 
# Forever Dreams

## Montana Brides, Book 1

## Leeanna Morgan
Copyright © 2014 by Leeanna Morgan

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

# Contents

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

Thank you

Excerpt From 'Forever In Love'

Enjoy Other Novels By Leeanna Morgan

# About This Book

_She came to Montana looking for answers... and found forever._

When Gracie Donnelly, a schoolteacher from New Zealand, arrives on a Montana cattle ranch, she has more on her mind than mending fences and feeding chickens. She's secretly searching for her father and answers to questions that could destroy a family.

* * *

Just one look at the fiery five-foot-one redhead and Trent McKenzie knows Gracie's going to be trouble. Ever since the failure of his first marriage he promised never to listen to his heart again. Especially when his heart is saying he's falling in love—and the one thing Gracie's searching for is the one thing that could take her away from him forever.

* * *

_Forever Dreams_ is the first book in the Montana Brides series. All of my series are linked, so if you meet a character you like, you could find them in another book. For news of my latest releases, please visit leeannamorgan.com and sign up for my newsletter. Happy reading!

**Other Novels by Leeanna Morgan:**

**Montana Brides:**

Book 1: Forever Dreams (Gracie and Trent)

Book 2: Forever in Love (Amy and Nathan)

Book 3: Forever After (Nicky and Sam)

Book 4: Forever Wishes (Erin and Jake)

Book 5: Forever Santa (A Montana Brides Christmas Novella)

Book 6: Forever Cowboy (Emily and Alex)

Book 7: Forever Together (Kate and Dan)

Book 8: Forever and a Day (Sarah and Jordan)

Montana Brides Boxed Set: Books 1-3

Montana Brides Boxed Set: Books 4-6

* * *

**The Bridesmaids Club:**

Book 1: All of Me (Tess and Logan)

Book 2: Loving You (Annie and Dylan)

Book 3: Head Over Heels (Sally and Todd)

Book 4: Sweet on You (Molly and Jacob)

The Bridesmaids Club: Books 1-3

* * *

**Emerald Lake Billionaires:**

Book 1: Sealed with a Kiss (Rachel and John)

Book 2: Playing for Keeps (Sophie and Ryan)

Book 3: Crazy Love (Holly and Daniel)

Book 4: One And Only (Elizabeth and Blake)

Emerald Lake Billionaires: Books 1-3

* * *

**The Protectors:**

Book 1: Safe Haven (Hayley and Tank)

Book 2: Just Breathe (Kelly and Tanner)

Book 3: Always (Mallory and Grant)

Book 4: The Promise (Ashley and Matthew)

Book 5: Coming Home (Mia and Stan)

Book 6: The Gift (Hannah and Brett)

Book 7: The Wish (Claire and Jason)

The Protectors Boxed Set: Books 1-3

* * *

**Sapphire Bay:**

Book 1: Falling For You (Natalie and Gabe)

Book 2: Once In A Lifetime (Sam and Caleb)

Book 3: A Christmas Wish (Megan and William)

Book 4: Before Today (Brooke and Levi)

Book 5: The Sweetest Thing (Cassie and Noah)

Book 6: Sweet Surrender (Willow and Zac)

Sapphire Bay Boxed Set: Books 1-3

* * *

**Santa's Secret Helpers:**

Book 1: Christmas On Main Street (Emma and Jack)

Book 2: Mistletoe Madness (Kylie and Ben)

Book 3: Silver Bells (Bailey and Steven)

Book 4: The Santa Express (Shelley and John)

* * *

**Return To Sapphire Bay:**

The Lakeside Inn (Penny and Wyatt)

Summer At Lakeside (Diana and Ethan)

A Lakeside Thanksgiving (Barbara and Theo)

Christmas At Lakeside (Katie and Peter)
To my family and friends.

For believing.

# Chapter 1

"I'm the man you're looking for."

Gracie dropped her map of Bozeman Airport and stared into a pair of smoky gray eyes. If she hadn't been so tired, she might have smiled. But after twenty-three hours of nonstop traveling over two continents and countless time zones, her sense of humor had disappeared along with most of her worldly possessions.

With wide shoulders and a battered cowboy hat pulled low on his head, the man in front of her definitely wasn't who she was looking for. "I'm sorry. You've got the wrong person."

Bending down, he picked up her map and handed it to her. "Your name's Gracie Donnelly and you're a teacher from New Zealand. Gerald asked me to meet you. His mother had an accident and he's staying in California with her."

At least that explained why she hadn't found Gerald. After spending too much time waiting for her suitcases, then realizing they weren't going to arrive, she'd thought he'd left without her. Gracie moved her carry-on onto her other arm, glad to relieve the weight digging into her shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She took a deep breath, wondering what else could go wrong. "I've been looking everywhere for Gerald. I was worried that he thought I'd missed my flight. Is his mom all right?"

"She fell down some stairs and broke her leg. The school wants to wait until he gets back before you start teaching. Check your cell phone. He said he'd leave you a message."

Hunting through her carry-on, Gracie pulled out her phone. Two missed calls were waiting to be cleared. As she listened to Gerald's messages, her heart sank. Before she'd left New Zealand, everything had seemed so easy. For two weeks she'd work with Gerald, teaching at Bozeman Elementary School and living with his family. The next six weeks would be spent on a Montana cattle ranch. In between feeding chickens and looking after cows, she'd try to find her father.

Gracie was excited, her students were excited, and Gerald's class was excited. So she'd packed her suitcases, all four of them, and traveled thousands of miles to be met by a handsome cowboy, no luggage and no Gerald.

She wasn't so excited now.

"I'm Trent McKenzie, Ms. Donnelly."

A slow grin tugged at the corner of her rescuer's mouth. At any other time, Gracie would have taken a few minutes to appreciate the man behind the sexy grin. But not today, and not while she was in Montana.

"Nice to meet you, Trent. Thanks for telling me Gerald won't be picking me up. I can make other arrangements until he returns to Bozeman."

"It's my ranch you were coming to in a couple of weeks. You might as well start your visit now and we'll sort something out once he gets home."

" _Your_ ranch?"

"Mine and the banks."

"But I thought you'd be a lot older...not that you have to be old to own a cattle ranch. I spoke with your wife and I imagined you'd be..." Gracie closed her mouth before it landed her on a plane heading back home.

"I don't have a wife."

Gracie stared at Trent and tried to figure out why nothing was making sense.

He stared right on back, hands on hips and looking almost as tired as she felt.

"But I spoke to Mrs. McKenzie. She told me all about the ranch and what clothes to pack. She even invited me to her craft group...what?"

At the mention of the craft group, some of the tension left Trent's face. "You must have been speaking to my mom. Where are your suitcases?"

"Budapest."

Trent's eyebrows arched so high that they disappeared under the brim of his hat.

"It's sad but true," Gracie sighed. "The lady I spoke to didn't know how long it would take to get them sent back to Bozeman. I've filled out the forms and they'll call me when they arrive."

"Do you have any other clothes with you?"

Gracie shook her head. "Nothing apart from what I'm wearing."

Trent's eyes wandered down her red sweater and jeans. The corner of his mouth lifted when he saw her purple shoes with orange flowers stitched across the top. "Nice shoes."

Gracie looked down at her feet and thought longingly of all the other clothes she'd packed. She never went anywhere without at least half her closet jammed into her suitcases.

She'd spent hours sorting through what she'd bring to Montana and what she'd leave behind. It hadn't been easy, but with careful planning and more than one email to Mrs. McKenzie, she'd finally settled on the perfect wardrobe. Only now her suitcases were somewhere in Eastern Europe and her only accessory was an old baseball cap. It was enough to bring a tear or two to a woman's eyes. Or make her stomach growl like a wounded bear.

Gracie slapped her hand across her tummy. "Sorry. I didn't eat much on the flight."

Trent rubbed the back of his neck. "There's a café not far from here that serves great food. We could go there before heading to Walmart to find you some clothes. You're more than welcome to stay at the ranch until we hear from Gerald."

Gracie bit her bottom lip. The arrivals area was almost empty. She was tired, homeless, and hungry. She would have gone to the ranch anyway, so deciding what to do next wasn't difficult. Gracie was just grateful the six-foot cowboy standing in front of her wanted to be her knight in faded denim.

"Are you sure it's not too much trouble?"

"We've got everything ready and there's always plenty of work to do."

Gracie took a deep breath and felt her tense muscles begin to relax. "Thank you. I really appreciate all the trouble you've gone to. Consider me your newest employee."

"This way then, Ms. Donnelly." Trent's hand nudged her elbow as he steered her across the room. "Don't worry about a thing. You'll feel better before you know it."

"Trent?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Could you please stop calling me ma'am or Ms. Donnelly? My name is Gracie."

"Whatever you say, ma...Gracie." With a slow smile, he added, "Welcome to Montana."

Trent looked up as the doorbell jingled inside Angel Wings Café. Tess Williams had transformed the rundown diner into an old-fashioned eatery. Tucked between a florist and a craft store, it had been Bozeman's best-kept secret until a food critic from New York had stumbled through the door. Now every tourist made a beeline for the café to sample the food and enjoy a slice of Montana hospitality.

He kept a careful eye on Gracie as she drank her hot chocolate. Gerald had told him to look for a woman in her late twenties with red hair and pink suitcases. Not that the color of her luggage had made it any easier to find her.

When he'd first seen Gracie, his gaze had skimmed straight past her. With her hair pushed under a baseball cap, she'd looked like a teenager. It wasn't until most of the passengers had left, and her cap came off, that he knew how wrong he'd been.

"Why did you choose Montana, Gracie?"

"It was more like Montana chose me." A frown slipped across her face. "When I decided to come here, I thought it would be fun to spend some time teaching. I emailed the principal at a local school and Gerald said he was happy to have me help him. Since then our students have been keeping in touch with each other, learning about each other's lives. Both classes are as excited as I am about being here."

Gracie's purple nail polish gleamed under the pendant light hanging above their table. Her hands looked tiny and soft. Fancy hands for a woman who didn't belong on a ranch.

He nodded toward her nails. "That manicure won't last long when you're mucking out the barn. Are you sure you want to work with us?"

Gracie glanced at her hands, then dropped them onto her lap. "When I told my class I was coming to Montana, they wanted me to send them pictures of cowboys. Before I knew it, Gerald had contacted your mom and she recommended a working vacation on your ranch." She lifted her chin, almost as if she was waiting for him to argue with the twisted tale that had brought her to Bozeman. "I'm a hard worker. You won't regret letting me stay with you."

Trent wasn't so sure about that.

He smelled a rat. Not the common barn type variety, but the cuddly mother variety who could tie a man in knots and get up to all kinds of mischief at their son's expense.

Until a year ago, his mom had been content to play matchmaker from a distance. When that hadn't worked she'd changed tactics, inviting every single woman she could find to their family dinners. After months of driving him insane she'd stopped playing cupid. Or so he thought.

A family started singing happy birthday and his gaze swung to the table beside theirs. Two tiers of cake almost hid the little girl who was laughing behind it. Her giggles turned to delight as five princess candles were quickly blown out.

Gracie's gaze settled on the grinning birthday girl. A look that wasn't quite happiness filled her eyes.

He had a feeling there was more to this visit than she'd told him. "What else brought you to Montana?"

She fiddled with the handle of her mug. "Nothing. That's it."

"Really?"

Her eyes skittered toward his. "I have a couple of issues to sort out. I thought working on your ranch might help put my life into perspective."

"You've come a long way to sort out a few issues."

Gracie pushed her empty mug away, glancing once more at the family beside them. "I didn't have a choice."

Another round of excited giggles filled the café. Colored paper flew through the air and a collection of pink presents filled the party table. The birthday girl's parents took photos, laughing at the chaos in front of them.

He knew all about choices and how they could tear a man in two. "A wise man once told me that everything looks small under a big sky. And Gracie...you couldn't have chosen a bigger sky in the world. I hope you find the answers you're looking for."

"So do I," she said softly.

He kept his gaze on Gracie as he picked up his hat. She looked lost and sad, and more than a little embarrassed. An odd protectiveness crept along his skin, prickling his conscience into thinking that maybe she'd come to the right place after all.

She might not be willing to share what was gnawing away at her, but at least he could help in other ways. "Are you ready to find some clothes?"

A slow smile lit her face. "My credit card's warmed up and ready for action. Let's go."

Gracie stood in the entrance of Walmart and tried not to stare. She'd never seen a store so large. It looked as though they sold everything from can openers to tents. And clothes. Rows and rows of clothes built for people with long legs and long arms.

Trent tipped his hat back, frowning across the aisles. "Tell me again why we're looking for the children's section?"

" _Teens_ , Trent. Not children. Look at me." Gracie's cheeks warmed as his gaze did a quick but thorough inspection of her five-foot-one frame. "Most stores don't sell clothes that fit me."

"Maybe you've been shopping in the wrong places. There's nothing wrong with being a little directionally challenged."

Gracie sighed. "That's easy to say when you can see over the top of the shelves." She ignored the sea of trousers in front of her and turned right. Trent didn't understand what it was like to be short. Whenever she met someone, the first thing they noticed was her height. Anyone would think being petite was a huge issue. So what if she couldn't reach high cupboards and had to buy children's shoes? She had more important qualities than small feet.

"You're going the wrong way."

She jumped at the voice drifting across her shoulder. "Would you stop doing that?"

"What?"

"Sneaking up on me. You need to put a squeak in your boots. Otherwise, I'll end up having a heart-attack."

"If you listen carefully," he whispered, "you'll be able to hear my super stretched bones grating on each other. This aisle leads to the kitchen appliances." Placing an arm across her shoulders, he nudged her to the left. "I can see some girls' clothes that way."

Before she had a chance to look at where they were going, a shopping cart flew around the corner, almost crashing into some shelves. It tipped sideways and headed straight for them.

Trent pulled her out of the way, squishing her between his armpit and a stack of men's shirts.

"Caitlin Jones, I swear you'll last about as long in this job as you did in the one you just left."

Caitlin screeched to a halt. The shopping cart bounced on all four wheels, upsetting the towels stacked haphazardly in its basket. She rolled her eyes, glaring at Trent as if it was his fault they'd nearly had a head-on collision. "I can't believe I let my sister talk me into working here. Just look at the uniform. Who wears khaki pants nowadays? My granddad, that's who. I'm not even allowed to text anyone while I'm here. How archaic is that?"

"It must be devastating."

"And they've got a supervisor watching me the whole time," Caitlin whispered. "Like they don't trust me or something."

Gracie felt a sigh work its way around Trent's chest.

"It could have something to do with your work ethic," he said.

Caitlin frowned. "I'm sixteen. I don't need a work ethic."

The superior stare the teenage commando shot Trent almost brought a smile to Gracie's face. The half that wasn't squished under his armpit.

"I hate to interrupt," Gracie muttered. "But as much as I like the smell of your underarm deodorant, you can let me go now."

Trent's arm dropped from her shoulders.

Gracie stepped sideways, almost knocking a pile of shirts off their hangers. Her face felt hot. Her body felt bothered. And it most definitely didn't have anything to do with the grinning man beside her.

"You okay, Gracie?"

"Fine." The squeak in her voice annoyed her. She pulled her shoulders back and fussed with the shirts beside her, pushing them out of harm's way.

Caitlin glanced down, smiling around a mouth of high-tech braces. "You sound kind of strange."

"I'm from New Zealand." Irritated with herself for going mushy over a man she'd just met, Gracie gave the shirts another nudge.

The teenager stared at her with a blank look on her face.

Geography didn't seem to be one of her strong points. "New Zealand's in the southern hemisphere," Gracie explained. Still no light-bulb moment. "Have you heard of the All Blacks rugby team?"

Trent's smile got a whole lot wider as he looked at Caitlin. "Check the Internet when you get home."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever."

"Gracie's staying in Bozeman for a few weeks. She's teaching at one of the elementary schools."

A shiver passed through Caitlin's skinny body. Teaching must rank about as high in the teenage girl's career aspirations as working in Walmart.

Caitlin frowned at Trent. "I overheard Stella asking about you the other day. Said she hadn't seen you around in a while. Could be she misses your company."

"I've been busy. Haven't you got work to do?"

"I am working." A cheeky grin lit her face. "I'm pushing a shopping cart, aren't I? So how long have you and Gracie been dating?"

"We're not dating. Gracie's staying with me..."

"Shoot," Caitlin hissed, "the dragon lady's on her way over." With a sweet smile on her face, and a voice three times louder than it needed to be, she bellowed, "I'm glad I could be of help. Have a nice day." And she scooted off. On all four wheels.

Trent stared down the aisle. "That was probably the worst person to bump into."

Gracie smiled at the dragon lady as she power-walked past them, following Caitlin's escape path. The poor woman would need all her wits about her if she had to keep tabs on the teenage wonder-worker.

"Caitlin wasn't that scary, Trent."

"She might look harmless but, if she gets within ten feet of a computer, the whole world knows about your business quicker than you do."

"It's just as well she's not in front of a computer then, isn't it? By the end of the day she won't remember that she saw us. So who's Stella?"

Trent jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. "Let's find some clothes."

"I take it Stella isn't one of your most favorite people?" Gracie asked, jogging to keep up with his long-legged stride.

"No."

"Oh. Well." She scanned the aisle in case Caitlin made another unexpected appearance.

"Before the end of the day, half the town will think we're living together."

Gracie stopped in the middle of the aisle. The last thing she wanted to do was complicate his life with an early house guest and lots of gossip.

Trent glanced over his shoulder, stopping when he realized she wasn't behind him. "What's wrong?"

Gracie kept her eyes glued on his shirt buttons. "I'll stay in town until Gerald gets back. I've got some research to do, so it won't be a problem."

Trent took off his hat and raked his hands through his hair. "Ignore me. I'm over-reacting. It makes more sense to have you stay on the ranch."

The frown on Trent's face worried her. Gracie knew all about small town gossip and how it could ruin a person's life. She'd sleep on the street if it meant stopping the rumors before they made it around Bozeman. "I don't mind staying in town. It's a pretty place. You've already helped me and I don't want to make your life difficult."

"You won't make my life difficult. If I didn't want you working on the ranch, I wouldn't have said yes in the first place."

Trent crossed his arms in front of his chest. He didn't look as though he was going to give in and let her do the sensible thing. Staying in Bozeman would be the most sensible thing she could do, especially if he thought they were about to make the evening news. "Why would Caitlin think anything was going on?"

"It could have something to do with the way her eyes lit up when I told her you were living with me."

"But we won't be living together like a couple."

A faint tinge of red washed above the collar of Trent's shirt. "She doesn't know that and what she doesn't know she'll make up."

"Maybe it's not as bad as you think. She's a teenager. No one will believe everything she says."

Trent shook his head. "Forget about Caitlin. At least you'll have some new clothes when everyone comes visiting." He headed into the center of the store and pointed to a huge neon pink sign. "Do you think you'll be able to find something in here?"

Gracie stared at the racks of clothes designed for teenagers. If she couldn't find anything to wear, she was in serious trouble. "I'll give it my best shot. If you lose sight of me, I'll be in the changing rooms."

She glanced quickly at Trent, then started hunting through a pile of T-shirts. It was time for some intense retail therapy. And if there was one thing she was good at, it was shopping in double-quick time.

# Chapter 2

Gracie smiled at the shiny blue bags stacked on the back seat of the pickup. She'd only found a handful of clothes in Walmart. But in the space of one short hour, Sandra Lee's Fashion Boutique had become her favorite store.

They'd come across the store by accident. Gracie called it fate. From the moment she'd seen the color-coded racks of clothes designed for women under five-foot-two, she'd known they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

"I think I've fallen in love."

Trent choked back a laugh as he turned onto the highway. "It's just as well Caitlin's not around to hear you say that. So the dreamy expression on your face means you're happy?"

"I'm so happy I could kiss the person who shoved my suitcases on a plane going to Budapest. If they hadn't messed up majorly and you hadn't suggested Walmart, then I might never have discovered Sandra Lee's."

"I take it you're planning a return trip into town?"

"At least one." Gracie reached for the catalog she'd left beside her carry-on. "I can even shop online."

"Why do I get the feeling you're about to max out your credit card?"

Gracie smiled at the worried look on Trent's face. "You don't know how hard it is to find clothes that fit me. Nothing needed to be shortened, tweaked or tailored. Ruby even said she'd call me when their next shipment arrives."

"Ruby?"

"The sales assistant. Ruby Monroe. She moved to Bozeman to be closer to her boyfriend and when they broke up, she stayed."

"You talked about Ruby's boyfriend while you were trying on clothes?"

"Ex-boyfriend and it's called multitasking. It's something women are good at." Gracie didn't need to see his raised eyebrows to know he didn't believe her. "It's true. Wait until you see me on the ranch."

That earned her a moment of silence. "Have you ever worked on a ranch before?"

She glanced at Trent, not sure how much his mom had told him about her. The only thing she knew about a ranch was to close the gates and watch where you put your feet. Most people probably wouldn't be too impressed with her limited work experience, but Trent wasn't most people. At least she hoped he wasn't.

"I've fed baby lambs from a bottle and watched sheep being sheared. Does that count?"

"It would if we raised sheep. We've got two and a half thousand heifers and not one sheep in sight." A frown slid across his face. "I thought New Zealand had more cattle than people."

"We do, but there's not much need for cows in the city, except on the supermarket shelves. I've taken my class to visit farms around Wellington, but we've only gone to see the animals and not help with anything else."

"Do you know what you've signed up for, Gracie?"

He sounded worried, and maybe disappointed, so she tried to make him smile. "Early mornings, late nights and lots of hay?"

Trent shook his head. "I hope you're ready for a steep learning curve?"

Gracie didn't think anything could be as bad as what she'd been through in the last year. "Ready and willing, boss."

Trent looked straight ahead and Gracie closed her eyes. After the constant drone of the airplane and a whirlwind shopping spree, her energy levels had dipped to zero.

Right about now, Trent was probably cursing his mom and Gerald. She didn't mind what chores she did as long as she got a few hours sleep tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough to rethink the plans she'd made for Bozeman. Plans that involved more than teaching and a ranch vacation.

She turned her head and looked through the window. Except for the blue-green mountains in the distance, they were traveling through a valley so flat that it looked like a giant had squashed his footprint into the land. Gracie was used to hills and roads that twisted and turned, but she'd never seen mountains as high as the ones surrounding them or a sky so blue that it took her breath away.

"You live in a beautiful part of the world."

Trent glanced across the cab. "I wouldn't live anywhere else. If you want to try something different while you're here, there's always fly-fishing. Or we can take you big game hunting if you know how to shoot a gun."

The thought of shooting an animal sent a shiver down her spine. "I think I'll pass on the hunting, but fly-fishing sounds like fun. What would you be doing if you weren't in your truck with me?" she asked.

"I'd be on my horse, moving cattle. We have more than thirty thousand acres on the Triple L. Moving stock over the spring and summer months is a big job."

Gracie heard the smile in his voice, sensed the deep pride he felt for his land and cattle. She could understand that kind of devotion. Teaching gave her the same rush of pleasure. It was more than the satisfaction of a job well done. It was knowing you were making a difference.

She glanced at Trent. With his hat sitting on the back seat, she was able to fully appreciate the sharp angles of his face. A strong jaw, pouty bottom lip and the hint of a dimple in his chin turned a rough and rugged cowboy into someone a girl should step carefully around. He had the kind of looks that could sweep an unsuspecting female off her feet and straight into his bed.

As she contemplated the likelihood of anyone sweeping her off her feet, Trent looked at her. Gracie's heart pounded. Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep her brain focused on safe questions. "How many people work on your ranch?"

"Including me, there are eleven of us. Less in the winter. You'll meet my brother, Jordan, when we arrive."

Gracie sighed. If Trent's brother was like him, she was in serious trouble.

Gracie could have sworn they'd passed the boundary of the Triple L Ranch over ten minutes ago, but she still couldn't see the homestead.

Trent pointed to what would have been a large lake, but the water level was so low that it looked more like a crater on the moon.

"The runoff from the mountains feeds a couple of large, spring-fed creeks. And the water from the creeks irrigates the entire ranch. At the moment we're in the middle of a drought, so the lakes we've created are only a third full at best."

"When did it last rain?"

"A couple of months ago. Every summer it gets worse. We're not as bad as other ranches, but it has the same impact. Feed prices skyrocket and we end up on water restrictions." He gazed through the window, looking across the fields toward the mountains. "Even with a drought, the land's still amazing. If you want to go hiking, I'll give you a map of some of the trails around the ranch."

"What about Yogi Bear? Does he ever come visiting?"

"It's not the grizzlies you have to worry about, it's the wolves. Especially high in the mountains."

Gracie swallowed. Apart from her mom's dog, Tornado, she'd never been particularly fond of four-legged canines. Most big dogs looked her in the eyes, and even though she was pretty quick, four legs could outrun two human feet any day. Skipping the long walks and concentrating on something a bit closer to the house, like fishing, suddenly took on more appeal.

"Do you have other people working on the ranch like I am?" Gracie asked.

Trent's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "You mean like a dude ranch?"

"Exactly. Campfires, cattle roundups and horse trails. I bet there are lots of people who would enjoy seeing Montana in all its glory."

"You're an exception. Group visits aren't happening here. This is a working cattle ranch, not an amusement park."

She knew she'd said something wrong as soon as she looked at Trent's clenched jaw. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't offend me." His death grip on the steering wheel relaxed as he settled back into the seat. "My brother's been trying to convince me to set up a dude ranch, but I'm not buying into all the cowboy hype. We earn our living off the land, not people."

She couldn't understand Trent's reluctance to open his home to strangers, but then she didn't understand much about his life. From what she'd seen so far, she was just glad he was letting her stay on the ranch.

The driveway turned toward a clump of tall pine trees. Peeking out from above green branches she saw the top of a stone chimney. As the house came into view, Gracie swallowed the lump in her throat.

Special didn't even come close to describing the incredible home. __ If ever a house lived and breathed the Wild West, then this was it. She'd seen pictures of log cabins, but never any of this size and beauty.

Spread over two levels, the log house sheltered under a high-pitched shingle roof. An enormous stone chimney rose from the center of the building. It teased her imagination into dreaming of roaring fires in the depth of a snow-covered winter. The side gable was made entirely of glass, supported by wooden beams shaped like spokes on a wagon wheel. A veranda wrapped around the front of the house, creating lots of comfortable nooks to take in the glorious view of mountains and pasture. __ Her jaw dropped when Trent stopped the truck by the entrance. "This is your house?"

Trent nodded.

"You live here all by yourself?"

"Sort of. Mrs. Davies, our housekeeper, has got her own living quarters attached to the far side of the house. Jordan moved into the bunkhouse a couple of months ago, but most days he comes across to raid the pantry. Apart from that, I'm on my own."

Sliding out of the truck, Gracie stared at his beautiful home.

Trent reached into the back seat, grabbing a few of the bags. "I'll show you where you're sleeping. We can get the rest of your shopping later."

Gracie took two more bags off the back seat and followed Trent. The inside of his home was every bit as wonderful as the outside. The ceiling in the foyer soared high above her head. Golden timber logs bathed the house in a warm and welcoming glow, seeping into her tired body. As Trent moved up the staircase, she ran her hands along the wood, absorbing the essence of what made this home special.

She thought about her mom's house back in New Zealand. The one-hundred-year-old villa had been her sanctuary. It had given her a sense of peace when her life had been a tumble of emotions, and stability when her world had crumbled. Trent's house gave her the same feeling of protection. She felt like she'd flown over eight thousand miles from home and found a haven for lost souls.

"Is everything all right, Gracie?"

"I don't know what to say. Your home is beautiful."

Trent grinned. "It's nice to know something can leave you speechless, little one."

"Be nice, Mr. McKenzie."

A deep rumble of laughter filled the stairwell.

"Is that you, Trent?"

He smiled at a woman coming out of a room farther along the landing. "Mrs. Davies, come and meet Gracie."

Mrs. Davies waited for them at the top of the stairs. She had a kind face that looked as though it laughed easily, and a shiny cap of silver hair that had been cut by someone with a good eye for fashion. But best of all, she was only an inch or two taller than Gracie.

"Welcome to the Triple L, Gracie. Please call me Adele. Trent and Jordan have called me Mrs. Davies their entire lives, and they refuse to call me anything else."

"Hi, Adele. It's nice to finally arrive."

A warm smile lit the housekeeper's face. "Your bedroom is ready for you. There are fresh towels in the bathroom and if you get cold during the night, there are extra quilts in your closet. If you need me for anything, just head downstairs and follow the hallway as far as it goes."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." She turned toward Trent. "Dinner's cooked and waiting in the kitchen."

Trent nodded. "Thanks, Mrs. Davies. I appreciate you helping at short notice."

"It's no bother. You'd better show Gracie her room before you drop all of those shopping bags on the floor. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Gracie followed Trent into one of the bedrooms. A huge bed with a brass headboard sat against one wall, piled high with blue and white cushions. A vase of bright yellow daisies sat on a white chest of drawers, and a rocking chair took pride of place in another corner. But it was the view of the mountains that drew her across the room.

Trent left her clothes on the bed and stood beside her, nodding into the distance. "That's Beartooth Mountain. If you look hard, you can just make out Granite Peak. It's the highest point in Montana. All of the ranges in front of us are part of Yellowstone National Park."

He stood in silence while she took stock of her surroundings.

"I take back any misgivings I might have had about coming here." A little catch caught the tail end of her voice. "This is the most incredible place I've ever seen."

"Don't talk too soon." Trent crossed his arms and scowled at the land. "Some folks get mighty sick of looking at the same view. Being isolated on a ranch in the thick of winter can drive people crazy. It's not an easy life if you're not used to it."

How anyone could get tired of looking at such amazing scenery was beyond Gracie. As she turned from the window, an enormous yawn locked her jaw in place.

"You're tired. Why don't I leave you to get settled? When you're ready, you can meet me in the kitchen for dinner."

The thought of a quick shower and clean clothes made her smile. "You've got a deal. Which way do I go to get to the kitchen?"

"Follow your nose down the stairs and turn left. Mrs. Davies put chicken casserole and dumplings in the oven earlier. You won't want to miss it for anything."

Trent took a quick look in the oven, then turned toward his office. He figured he'd have a good hour to check his messages and get some work done before Gracie made an appearance.

Half an hour and six messages later, Gracie stood in the doorway, scanning his office with a grin that put his blood pressure on full alert.

"I should have known you'd be organized. Not one file is out of place."

Sitting back in his chair, Trent surveyed the little redheaded minx that changed appearances like a chameleon. She'd left her hair hanging loose and fluffy around her shoulders. The overhead lights picked up copper streaks, glowing like a soft red halo around her face. Any resemblance to angelic perfection stopped the moment his gaze skittered down her body.

Gracie had opted for a bright red T-shirt that proclaimed her _Montana born and bred_ , and tight black leggings that did a lot for his appreciation of the female anatomy. Thick, baggy green socks completed an outfit made for comfort rather than style. He could get used to Gracie's brand of comfort real quick.

"I've got something for you." Gracie handed him a bag.

"When did you buy this?" He squeezed the Walmart bag carefully.

"I found it while I was looking for clothes. It won't bite."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Just open it." She laughed. "It's something that will come in handy on the ranch."

He opened the bag and pulled out a black T-shirt.

"Read the front." Gracie grinned from ear to ear.

His eyes narrowed as he read the large white lettering. _I'm not bossy. I just know what you should do._ He looked at Gracie. "Are you trying to tell me something, short-stuff?"

"Trent McKenzie, I do believe I see a faint blush on your cheeks." Leaning forward, she patted his shoulder. "It's okay. Your secret's safe with me. I doubt anyone else has noticed your assertive streak. Besides, it was either this T-shirt or one that said, _Save a horse. Ride a cowboy._ "

Gracie shot across the room, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

He wasn't going to ignore the dare shining as bright as a full moon in her direct gaze. Very slowly he began to unbutton his denim shirt.

Her eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

A slow grin spread across his face. "I thought I'd try on the T-shirt." Button two slid undone.

Color flooded Gracie's face. Her gaze locked on button number three. "Goodness. I think I'll just go and check...the chicken." Backing out of the room, she nearly collided with the kitchen wall. "It sure smells good."

He heard what sounded like a chair hitting the floor, followed by a very unladylike curse rocketing around the room.

"You okay out there?"

"I'm fine."

Trent stripped out of his shirt and pulled the new T-shirt over his head. With a smile on his face, he walked into the kitchen.

"Well? What do you think?"

Gracie nearly dropped the chicken casserole onto the floor. A blush hit her cheeks as she spent a long time appreciating her purchase. "You look...I mean...the T-shirt fits you."

Trent figured it was time to let her off the hook. Besides, there was only so much teasing he could take before his body started messing with his brain. The sparks shooting between them were nothing more than harmless flirtation. "I'll get the plates and wine."

Gracie cleared her throat and dished up Mrs. Davies' prize winning chicken recipe. "What time do you wake up in the morning?"

Trent grinned at his blushing guest. "I'm usually up by five-thirty and on the ranch as soon as I've had breakfast."

Gracie frowned.

"It's okay," he said. "You don't need to be ready that early. I'll come back to the house around ten o'clock and take you on a tour of the ranch. We'll sort out a schedule so you can join us each morning to help with a few of the chores."

Her frown turned into a scowl. "I came here to learn about ranch life, not sit on my laurels watching the grass grow."

"Don't get all huffy. We can always use another pair of hands around here, but tomorrow morning you can help Mrs. Davies." Man, the woman was as prickly as a porcupine when she thought she'd been given preferential treatment.

Little did she know that working with Mrs. Davies was like drawing the short straw of chores around the ranch. Between a never-ending stream of work needing to be done, and more than one hungry belly to feed, Mrs. Davies was always busy.

Gracie prodded a chicken leg with her fork. "Does Mrs. Davies work here full-time?"

"Almost. She works from six in the morning until one in the afternoon, Monday to Thursday. If we've got something major happening, she pitches in to help. We're left to our own devices for the rest of the time." A fork of mashed potatoes and gravy paused midway to his mouth. "Chicken not to your liking?"

"The chicken's great."

She poked at the greens on her plate. Nothing seemed to be going into her mouth.

"You might as well say what's on your mind. Mrs. Davies' chicken casserole is too good to let it get cold."

"Well," she cleared her throat. "I thought it might be good to get something clear." She looked him straight in the eye. "I want you to know that I didn't come here for anything other than learning about ranch life. I'm not, you know..." On a rush of air that left her breathless, she said, "after anything else."

Trent was glad he'd swallowed his last piece of chicken. Otherwise, he'd have choked to death. For safe measure, he took a big gulp of wine. At least his mom hadn't been waving her broken wand in his direction again. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not after _anything else_ either."

Gracie's shoulders sagged in relief, then she frowned. "Why haven't you got a wife or a girlfriend living with you?"

"I've been married before and I'm not interested in going down that path again."

That got her attention. "What happened to your wife?"

"She left."

Gracie's eyes widened as she waited for the next installment of his not so successful love life.

"Are all Kiwi girls this nosy or are you unique?"

"I'm curious. So?"

He sat back in his chair.

"Come on, Trent. I promise not to tell anyone."

A serious case of heartburn built deep in his chest. "Her name was Susan. We got married when I was twenty-five. She was a city girl and didn't like country life. Montana turned out to be too quiet, too cold. Too much of everything she didn't want, I guess."

"How long were you married?"

"Nearly two years." He wouldn't tell her they were some of the worst times of his life. At first, Susan enjoyed life on the Triple L. But after a few months of being left alone while he worked, the novelty wore off. Halfway through her second winter, she returned to the bright lights and packed city streets of New York City.

Until now, he hadn't wanted another woman in his life. "So what's your excuse?"

The look Gracie shot him would have pinned him to the ground if he wasn't expecting it.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"How old are you, Gracie? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine? If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn't let you out of my sight for eight weeks, let alone traveling halfway around the world, staying with complete strangers."

Gracie squirmed in her seat. "It's just as well I'm not your girlfriend, isn't it?"

He stared straight at her. "So, no boyfriend, no husband, no children?"

"You're as bad as I am," she muttered. "And just for the record, I'm twenty-seven." Crossing her arms, she glared across the table at him. "I've got plenty of friends who are males, but no one serious. I've never been married and I don't have any children."

"It sounds like I'm not the only person with relationship issues."

"I've got standards."

"Haven't we all."

Gracie sent him a superior stare.

"Are you going to tell me why you're in Montana?"

"I've already told you why I'm here."

He swallowed a fork of mashed potatoes and gravy, figuring it had to be healthier than laughing at the stubborn look on her face. "Yeah, you did."

Gracie pushed her dinner plate away. "I'm trying to figure out some things."

"Maybe two heads can work them out quicker."

"If I tell you, you have to swear not to say anything to anyone."

"I'll do my best." The frown on Gracie's face left him in no doubt that she didn't think much of his 'best'. "Okay. I won't say anything."

She rearranged her knife and fork. "I'm looking for someone."

She didn't seem too happy about whoever it was she'd lost. "Do they know you're here?"

"No." She shrugged. "I don't even think he knows I exist."

Trent wondered what he'd done to deserve babysitting a woman on the lookout for a man. Only he hadn't done a thing—his mom had. "What's his name?"

The hurt in Gracie's eyes pulled at something he'd buried deep inside himself. He didn't know what was going on in her life, but from the look of it, she had too much of everything she didn't need.

"His last name's not McKenzie, so you're safe."

Safe was about the last thing he felt around the pint-sized redhead. If a man wasn't careful, he'd be pulled into the center of her troubles quicker than he could blink. "You're not going to tell me who you're looking for, are you?"

"No." She took a deep breath. "Not yet, anyway."

"So how does this man fit into those high relationship standards you've been telling me about?"

Gracie looked even more uncomfortable. "My life's not that interesting."

"I guess that depends on who's doing the listening. Come on, Gracie. I've got all night."

She yawned, only it didn't look too genuine to him.

His lips twitched as he watched her stretch. "Nope. It won't work."

She yanked her hands back to the table. "Fine. I'm looking for my father."

"It can't be that difficult to find him. Have you tried the phone book?"

Gracie sighed. "If it was that simple I wouldn't have jumped on a plane and come here."

People didn't disappear off the planet unless they didn't want to be found. "Is he running from the police?"

Gracie kept her gaze locked on the table. Red curls almost camouflaged the heat turning her skin a deep shade of pink. "No. Something worse."

He couldn't think of anything worse, except a deranged ex-wife. "What is he running from?"

"Me."

If Trent hadn't been paying close attention, he might have missed the softly spoken word.

"He left before I was born. The thought of fatherhood must have been too much for him to handle."

Trent couldn't imagine anyone using a baby as an excuse to walk away from a relationship. Or leaving a child to carry the guilt for what went wrong. "It's his loss, Gracie."

"Maybe." She stood and reached for her plate and glass. "Do you want a cup of coffee?"

"If it comes with more information about your father, I'll make the coffee."

"Looks like it's my turn, then."

The smile on Gracie's face made him realize how long it had been since he'd had a conversation with a woman who wasn't related to him or someone else's wife. He really needed to get out more. "So what does your mom think about you coming to Montana?"

Her wineglass wobbled on her plate. "Are all McKenzie men like this?"

"Like what?"

"Bossy and single-minded."

"Only the best one." He smiled at her incredulous expression. "From the sound of all the banging on the porch, you're about to meet the other McKenzie brother. You can make up your own mind and tell me if I'm right."

Jordan McKenzie walked into the kitchen holding a bunch of wildflowers and a look in his eye that told Gracie he liked what he saw.

"Evening, ma'am. I heard Trent had a fancy woman living up at the house. I thought I'd better see for myself if town gossip was right."

The polite greeting that had been gathering in Gracie's head sank like a lead weight.

Trent swore under his breath.

Looking pleased with himself, Jordan said, "These are for you. Welcome to the Triple L." Thrusting the flowers at her, he sniffed the air appreciatively. "Is that Mrs. Davies' chicken casserole I can smell?"

"There's no food until you apologize for your smart mouth," Trent growled. "Gracie's come here for a working vacation."

Jordan looked at her with a suitably contrite expression on his face. "Sorry about my manners. I know why you're here. I thought I'd annoy my brother with the gossip that's going around town."

Gracie didn't know whether to laugh or cry. If half the town thought she was a loose woman, then Lord help her when the other half made up their mind.

Looking at Trent and Jordan, she thought she might at least get a sympathy vote from the women of Bozeman. Spending time around the two McKenzie brothers would drive any single woman to distraction. Apart from long legs, wide shoulders and a mile-wide streak of mischief, they were as different from each other as two brothers could get.

Jordan's brown hair fell over his blue eyes, brushing the edge of his T-shirt in a bad boy look that failed miserably as soon as he smiled. The dimple in his right cheek and the laughter in his eyes were more than enough reason to leave a girl spinning in circles.

Trent reminded her of a wolf. He had a lean body built for speed, and gray eyes that seemed to take in far more than he told anyone.

He crossed his arms, laughing at her as she compared their physical attributes.

"Gracie Donnelly, meet Jordan McKenzie. Hot shot cowboy, pain in the ass brother, and show-off extraordinaire."

Jordan gave his brother a teasing look. "Aw shucks. I didn't know you cared."

Gracie put her dishes on the table and reached out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Jordan. I hope Trent hasn't been painted too red by the population of Bozeman?"

"Nice accent, ma'am." Jordan grinned and shook her hand. "And don't you worry about his reputation. He hasn't had one for so long, that most people can't remember a time when he wasn't a heartbreaker."

Trent choked on his wine. "Keep that up, and you'll be eating with the rest of the cowboys for the next month."

"Talking about food..." Jordan took a plate out of the cupboard and filled it with hot chicken casserole.

Trent sighed. "There's one thing you'll learn really fast about my brother, Gracie. If there's food in the house, he'll sniff it out quicker than a hound dog."

"I'm wounded," Jordan moaned as he sat at the table. "I come here three nights a week for Mrs. Davies' home-cooked meals and occasional leftovers. The only thing you need to worry about are the lovesick cowboys. They'll be making their way to the homestead to meet the cute pixie that's taken up residence with my brother."

" _Pixie_? I'm five-foot-one." Gracie looked at Trent for moral support. No luck there. He was trying to stop from laughing so hard that he had tears in his eyes. Jordan didn't look much better.

She looked at Trent and groaned. "I can't believe my luck. Two of you in one family."

# Chapter 3

The next morning, Gracie's alarm clock rattled her out of a deep sleep. Crawling out of bed, she headed for the bathroom. Whoever said traveling around the world was an adventure had forgotten about jet lag. Her mind might be ready for action, but her body felt like metal plates had been strapped to her feet.

After a quick shower, she threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. With her last shoelace pulled tight, she opened her carry-on and took out a piece of paper. Written in black ink were ten names. Three men listed as James Green and seven J. Greens. Some of the names had addresses scribbled beside them, others had birth dates. All were strangers. One could be her father.

Smoothing out the edges, she studied the names for a few minutes before leaving the list on her bedside table. She'd felt like a modern day Sherlock Holmes tracking down clues about a man she'd never met.

After working out her father didn't live at the last address her mom had kept, she'd spent hours on the Internet searching phone directories, business guides and newspaper articles. She'd saved every scrap of information, hoping it might bring her one step closer to finding him.

Staying on the ranch until Gerald got back hadn't been part of her plan, but with any luck she'd be able to catch a ride into town with someone and hire a car. She had two months to find a man who had disappeared out of her life. Two months, ten names, and a lifetime of questions.

With a final glance around her bedroom, she walked out the door.

Adele was standing with her back to the landing, stacking fresh linen in the hall cupboard.

"Thank you for dinner last night. The chicken was delicious."

"You're welcome, Gracie. Go to the kitchen and help yourself to anything you want. If you feel like something warm, there's fresh bacon and flapjacks cooling on the counter." Adele turned back to the cupboard. "Oh, I nearly forgot. Trent said to tell you to meet him at the barn if you're awake before eight o'clock."

"Thanks." Gracie's mouth watered at the smell of the delicious food wafting through the house. She glanced at her watch. After a quick breakfast and an even quicker look in the local phone directory, she'd definitely be at the barn before eight.

Gracie's sneakers crunched on the gravel as she walked across the yard. She filled her lungs with clean, fresh, morning air and smiled at the sight of the barn.

Like the house, it was huge. Standing at least three stories high and painted bright red with white trim, the barn looked like something out of a movie set. A dozen doors opened into a large corral that was empty except for two dogs running around in the sun. A piercing whistle filled the still air and the dogs took off toward a fence. Within seconds Trent appeared, walking a black horse out of the barn. The dogs came to a screaming halt, waiting patiently while he tied the horse's lead to the fence.

Trent looked up as Gracie got nearer. She pretended not to notice how good he looked in blue plaid. Or the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled in that slow, contagious way that set her heart rate fluttering.

"Morning, sleepyhead. Glad you could make it."

"Me too," Gracie managed without tripping over her tongue. The children in her class would jump up and down like hot beans in a fry pan if they could see the cowboy standing in front of her. "If I hadn't set my alarm, I wouldn't be here. Jet lag is messing with my body." Reaching down, she patted the dogs. "What are their names?"

"The one on the left is Rufus, the other one is Spot."

Both dogs snuggled closer as she rubbed behind their ears. They looked like a cross between German Shepherds and Dingoes.

"You've got something in common." Trent grinned. "They're Australian Sheep Dogs."

Gracie kept rubbing. "Boys, you tell that boss of yours that New Zealand is separated from Australia by an entire ocean." She smiled as Spot licked her hand. "Much as I'd like to be genetically linked to you, we're worlds apart."

Trent laughed and disappeared inside the barn. Gracie kept patting the dogs, only slightly worried about the warhorse standing a few feet away.

She didn't know much about horses, but she guessed this stallion would be considered a prime example. His black coat gleamed in the morning sun and his tail flicked at imaginary flies as he waited for his owner.

Trent arrived back with another horse. This one stood half as high as her male friend and didn't have the same devilish glint in her eye. "Ever ridden a horse?"

Gracie swallowed. Even though the second horse wasn't as tall as the stallion, she still had to crane her neck to see the top of its back. "No, but I'll give it a go."

"That's my girl."

A flutter of something she didn't want to analyze settled in her tummy. Three days ago she'd been teaching math to a class of eight-year-olds. Now here she was, standing beside a big red barn in Montana, dealing with a butterfly stomach at the slightest praise from a cowboy.

"Gracie, meet Daisy. She's real gentle and won't spook easily."

Raising her hand to Daisy's nose, Gracie let the mare sniff her fingers. Warm air and tickly whiskers rubbed against her hand. "Hello, girl, don't mind me. I've never ridden a horse before." With more bravado than confidence, she whispered, "I'm sure we'll make a great team."

Daisy nudged her fingers, bending forward to push Gracie's hand onto her head.

"She's a sucker for a scratch. She'll be your friend for life if you itch between her eyes."

Gracie stroked Daisy's skin. She could have sworn her horse purred.

"I have to check a few fields. I thought you might like to see more of the ranch."

Gracie looked at Daisy. How difficult could it be to ride a horse who acted like an overgrown cat? She straightened her shoulders and looked at the saddle. "How do I get up?"

"Put your foot in my hands and I'll hoist you over the top." Trent pushed his hat to the back of his head. He leaned forward until his face was level with hers.

She looked down at his cupped hands, up at the saddle, then into his gray eyes. "You won't go too fast, will you?"

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "I promise not to launch you into space."

Gracie had trouble thinking with his body inches from hers. So much for butterfly wings. A herd of elephants stomped through her body, creating havoc with her brain cells.

"Are you ready, Gracie?"

She took a deep breath and stuck her foot in his hands. Half-turning toward him, she said, "Is this okay?"

His eyes deepened to slate gray. He cleared his throat. "When I lift you up, grab the front of the saddle."

Gracie looked at the leather saddle. The only thing she could focus on was Trent's warm breath as it slid along the back of her neck. "There isn't much to hold."

"You'll be fine. Just pull your leg over the top of Daisy."

Gracie nodded and Trent pushed her up. She scrambled onto Daisy's back, arms and legs going in all directions. Trent passed her the reins and with a victorious grin she stared back at him. She was ready for action.

"What do I do now?"

"Stay on the saddle."

"Very funny." Gracie looked at the ground. It was a long way down.

Trent adjusted the stirrups and grabbed a black helmet off the fence. "Put this on. I'll click the strap into place if you have any problems."

The grin slipped off Gracie's face. A riding helmet hadn't figured too highly in her dreams of being a cowgirl. But then falling off a horse hadn't either.

With a sigh, she rammed the helmet onto her head. Her hands fumbled with the straps until she gave up in disgust. Trying to keep upright on Daisy's back and clicking the strap into place just wasn't working.

Sticking her chin out, she glanced at Trent. He'd pulled himself up onto his horse and looked ready to spend the day in his saddle. "I need your expertise, Mr. McKenzie."

The gleam in his eye set her heart rate pounding. "You look about eighteen years old."

His warm fingers tickled the skin under her chin as he fiddled with the strap. A rush of heat sped to her cheeks. She couldn't remember feeling so off-center in her entire life. Apart from the fact that she was six feet in the air, clutching a gentle beast of a horse between her thighs, and regretting not visiting the bathroom before she left, life was just dandy. As a teenager, she'd had more common sense stacked in her little finger than what she did now.

Risking a quick glance at Trent, she was pleased to see a faint blush along his cheekbones. At least she wasn't the only one having a hormonal meltdown.

Trent's horse snorted as he moved away. "When you're ready, give Daisy a gentle nudge with your heels. Keep the reins loose and your feet in the stirrups."

Gracie nudged Daisy with her sneakers. Nothing happened. "Come on, girl. Let's show this cowboy we can do this." She tried again. Daisy moved forward and Gracie gripped the reins between her fingers. She pulled her legs tight and concentrated on keeping her bottom firmly attached to the saddle. Following Trent's lead, she kept a steady pace beside him.

"You're doing great. Loosen your hold on the reins; Daisy's won't take off in a hurry."

Gracie risked a quick glance in his direction. His hands weren't clamped around his reins like bands of steel. She unclenched her fingers, wiggling them against the leather straps as blood pumped through her hands. "I feel like I'm rolling on an ocean wave."

"As long as you don't get seasick, then I guess we'll be okay."

Gracie forgot how far down the ground was, forgot about falling off her horse. Her concentration zoomed in on the laughing cowboy beside her. She'd really hit rock bottom when a man's voice made her feel like a giddy teenager. Maybe jet lag was messing with her brain. Maybe she needed to get out more. Or maybe Trent's deep, sexy voice did the same thing to every female in town. She hoped not.

As they rode across the ranch, Spot and Rufus raced ahead, happy to explore on their own. Every now and then, Trent let out a high-pitched whistle and they'd sprint back, sniffing the air until another smell had them streaking away.

Gracie focused on the fields around them, trying to ignore the way Trent's body moved in time with his horse. And the way he'd turn in his saddle, waiting patiently for her to catch up when Daisy stopped to munch on the alfalfa.

While they were looking for fences that needed to be repaired, Trent told her about the ranch, about his family and the history of the land. For three generations, the McKenzie family had lived and died on the Triple L, working with nature to create a life they wouldn't trade for anything.

In the distance, Gracie watched a giant plume of dust create a summer storm across the ranch. "What's going on over there?"

Trent followed the direction of her hand. "The contractor's baling hay. After he's finished, the skid loader comes along and puts the bales onto a truck and then the hay gets stored in one of our barns."

"Do you think I could see the haymaking while I'm here?"

"Once we've checked a few more fields, I'll take you to see what's happening. At this time of year, our main job is to get enough hay stacked in the barns for winter. You'll be an expert by the time you leave."

After another hour of riding, Gracie doubted she'd be an expert in anything except the perils of riding a horse for the first time. She couldn't feel her bottom and the muscles in her thighs were cramping from gripping Daisy's ribs.

"Do you want to get down and stretch your legs?"

"You must have read my mind," she groaned. Looking at the ground, she tried to guess how far she'd have to jump. "I might need a hand getting off Daisy."

A cheeky grin spread across Trent's much too handsome face.

Gracie stomped down on the wayward thoughts pushing common sense out of her head. "Don't get any funny ideas, cowboy. Making the most of innocent women landing in your arms wasn't part of the deal."

"Who me, ma'am? I'd never take advantage of an innocent woman." He dismounted, wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, and reached for her.

She held Trent's shoulders as she swung her leg over the saddle.

Daisy moved forward.

Gracie slipped. She made a desperate lunge for Trent, tightly holding his shoulders and curling her legs around his waist.

Staggering back, he let out a surprised laugh. "You've got it wrong, Gracie. It looks as though you're the one taking advantage of me."

She didn't know where to look and she sure as heck didn't want to spend too much time staring into Trent's gray eyes. So she did what any single self-respecting female would have done. Gracie unlocked her legs and landed butt first on the ground.

"Hello? Is anyone home?"

Gracie dropped the last strawberry on the pavlova she'd made for dessert. Frowning at the clock on the kitchen wall, she wiped her hands on her borrowed apron and walked toward the front door.

"Can I help you?" Gray eyes, a replica of Trent's, gazed back at Gracie. "Mrs. McKenzie?"

"Call me Karen. I'm very pleased to meet you. I can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to this moment."

Gracie had expected a warm welcome, but something wasn't right. Mrs. McKenzie beamed at her like a long-lost relative. Or the woman who would make her son the happiest man alive. "Umm. It's nice to meet you. I'm Gracie. The teacher from New Zealand that you've been emailing."

A frown creased Karen's face. "You're Gracie Donnelly?"

Gracie nodded.

"Oh, dear," Karen sighed. "I was hoping you were...not to worry. I'm glad you've made it to Bozeman. I thought you weren't coming to the ranch for another couple of weeks?"

"Gerald's mom broke her leg, so Trent met me at the airport. I'm staying at the ranch until Gerald gets back. Would you like to come through to the kitchen? I could make you a cup of coffee."

"I'd love a hot drink, but I can't stay long. I promised Jordan I'd stop by and see him before dinner."

Gracie made sure the coffeepot was hot before looking for something they could eat. She opened a cookie tin and glanced at the clock for the second time. "Trent shouldn't be too much longer."

"It doesn't matter," Karen said as she sat on a kitchen stool. "At this time of the year the boys can be out on the ranch until all hours. If I'd known Gerald wasn't in Bozeman, I would have met you at the airport myself."

"It worked out okay," Gracie said as she looked for the sugar.

Karen walked around the counter and reached for an old jar at the back of the pantry. "If you're looking for the sugar, it's in here."

"Thanks. Trent has been great. My luggage was sent to Budapest by mistake, so he took me to Walmart. I'm just pleased I didn't lose my carry-on."

"You went to Walmart?"

Gracie poured hot coffee into two mugs, hoping the confused look on Karen's face had nothing to do with Caitlin.

A soft blush warmed Karen's cheeks. "Everything is beginning to make sense now. My friend Doris heard from her granddaughter that Caitlin had seen Trent's fiancée with him."

Gracie's hand hovered over one of the mugs. Karen thought her son was _engaged._ She couldn't look after a house plant without it dying a slow and painful death. She wouldn't know what to do with a fiancé. She'd never even dated someone for more than two months. As soon as any relationship turned serious, she got a serious case of cold feet and ran in the opposite direction.

"Don't worry," Karen said. "I'll give Doris a call as soon as I get home and let her know there's been a misunderstanding."

"Thank you," Gracie mumbled as she passed Karen a mug of coffee.

"It's the least I can do. If I hadn't made such a fuss about finding Trent a wife, Doris wouldn't have thought anything of her granddaughter's story."

Gracie almost felt sorry for Trent. Until she remembered the way her body lit up like a Christmas tree whenever they were within touching distance. Then she felt sorry for the females in Bozeman. Any man who had that effect on women should be quarantined as a threat to humanity. And common sense. And lots of other things Gracie hadn't thought about in a long time.

"But I'm not meddling in my son's life anymore. When he told me he wanted to get married, I couldn't have been happier. That's why I thought he'd brought his girlfriend out to the ranch. To see if she could make the Triple L her home. It's a lovely place to raise a family."

Good grief. Babies? Trent was looking for a girlfriend and his mom was thinking about grandchildren?

"I really am sorry for confusing you with someone else. You must think I'm one of those desperate mothers who want to see their son happily married."

"I think Trent's lucky that you care," Gracie said carefully. No wonder he didn't have a girlfriend. As soon as he went on a date, half of Bozeman would be planning their wedding.

Karen's cell phone chirped. "That'll be Jordan. He said he'd text me when he arrived home." She stood and gave Gracie a hug. "Everything will work out just fine. I'll call in and say hello to Trent before I head back into town." Karen left her mug in the sink and waved goodbye.

Gracie sank into a chair. She'd dodged matrimonial bliss for twenty-seven years. But within hours of arriving in Montana, a big chunk of the population thought she was engaged—to a man whose Mom thought he needed a wife.

At least her friends back home wouldn't hear about her near miss with a handsome cowboy. Unless town gossip or Caitlin Jones traveled at lightning speed.

Trent pulled off his boots in the mudroom. If he wasn't mistaken, Mrs. Davies had cooked some kind of beef dish for dinner. The smell of hot meat with loads of garlic and herbs made his mouth water.

The sound of pots and pans banging against each other filled the house. Someone was in the kitchen, and there was only one little someone at home. "Is that you, Gracie?"

She stood by the oven, a wooden spoon clutched in her hand and a gleam in her eye that he hadn't seen before.

"I hope you're going to stir something with that thing and not use it on me?" She didn't even blink at his attempt at humor. If anything, her grip on the spoon tightened.

"I don't know whether to feel sorry for you or be annoyed."

He stepped carefully around the kitchen counter and turned on the coffee pot. "Option one sounds good. What's wrong?"

"Your mom stopped by before visiting Jordan."

He froze on the spot. The mug of hot coffee he'd been looking forward to didn't seem quite so important anymore. "What did she say?"

The microwave beeped. Gracie took out a bowl of gravy and gave it a quick stir. "She thought you'd found the love of your life. Her friends think we're engaged."

He gulped. "Engaged?"

"As in almost married. M-a-r-r-i-e-d." Gracie leaned against the counter, fanning herself with a dishtowel. "I think I'm hyperventilating."

Raking his hands through his hair, he tried to sort out the jumble of thoughts racing through his brain.

"And then your mom said you want to get married. You forgot to mention that when you were telling me about your non-existent love life."

"Well, the thing is...I am kind of looking for a wife." Before she could interrupt, he said, "But I'd never marry you, so you don't have to worry."

"How can you be _kind of_ looking for a wife? You either are or you aren't." A frown crossed her face. "And what's so bad about me that you'd never marry me? Not that I'd marry you, anyway."

Trent pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down. "I'd better tell you everything before you see Mom again."

"I'm really looking forward to hearing this." She glared across the room at him. "But you'd better make it quick. Your mom's due back soon."

He shot out of his chair. "She's coming here? Tonight?" He struggled to lower the volume of his voice. Panicking wouldn't get him out of trouble, especially if his mom turned up with her granny bag. Gracie would think the whole family was loopy if she saw the baby clothes his mom insisted on knitting.

"After she's seen Jordan, she's calling in to see you. And scowling at me won't get you very far, Trent McKenzie. You started the rumors by smooching up to me in Walmart. If you didn't want the world thinking there was something going on, you should have kept your hands to yourself."

"I didn't smooch anything. I put my arm around you to save you from the shopping cart. Anyone would think I'd gotten down on one knee and begged you to marry me."

Gracie's face flushed crimson. She turned her back on him and started opening every drawer until she found a tablecloth.

She dropped it in front of him and walked back to the oven. "I didn't come here to find a husband. I've come to find my father. If he lives in Bozeman and hears any gossip, he'll think I'm a weirdo who jumps into bed with total strangers."

As far as Trent was concerned, there wasn't anything weird about having sex with a stranger. Well, maybe not a complete stranger. And knowing how quickly gossip traveled, it would help if the person wasn't from Bozeman. And it would be even more helpful if they didn't plan on staying for more than a few weeks. He glanced at Gracie.

"You can get that hopeful look off your face, Trent McKenzie. Whatever's going through your brain won't happen."

He threw open the tablecloth, then headed across to the cutlery drawer. "You can't blame a man for trying."

Gracie stuck her hands on her hips, looking ferocious and cute at the same time. "If you'd tried a little harder with someone else, we wouldn't be in this awful mess."

"You've missed the whole point, Gracie. I didn't want to try a little harder. Not until a few months ago, anyway."

"So put an ad in the paper."

"Clever, Gracie. Real clever. The talk from that piece of advertising would keep the gossip mill running for years."

"Well, it's better than doing nothing."

He cleared his throat. The next couple of weeks should be interesting. "I've got a few other ideas I'm working on."

He saw the frown on Gracie's face. She opened her mouth to ask the question he knew was coming next. "And no, I'm not telling you what I plan on doing."

Technically, he didn't have one girlfriend in mind. He had four. And if everything worked out the way he wanted it to, the best of the bunch would become his wife.

"Hello? I'm back."

Gracie turned off the oven and headed into the hallway. Karen sounded as chirpy as a spring breeze. Her strictly single son had disappeared upstairs half an hour ago, and Gracie hadn't seen him since. "Hi, Karen. Come on through to the kitchen."

"Has Trent come home yet?"

Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. "I'm right here, Mom." He walked through the doorway looking clean and shiny from a session under the shower. As far as Gracie was concerned, no amount of scrubbing would ever get him out of the black hole he'd dug himself into.

She watched him from across the kitchen. If you didn't scratch too far below the surface, a girl could be forgiven for thinking Trent McKenzie was the biggest catch of the century. Pioneer men had nothing on the rugged determination of the cowboy making his mom a mug of coffee.

"Mom, I need to clear something up."

Karen smiled at her son. "It's okay. You don't need to explain anything. I've already called Doris. She'll spread the word that Gracie's here for a vacation and she's not your fiancée."

The relief on Trent's face was more than a little disturbing. Gracie definitely didn't want anyone thinking they were a couple, but still, a girl liked to feel as though the possibility wasn't totally unpleasant.

"How did you think I'd found a fiancée from New Zealand when I haven't been out of the country in years?"

"It's not unheard of." Karen frowned. "I thought you must have gone onto one of those online dating sites and met each other that way."

Gracie tried not to laugh at the surprised look on Trent's face.

"I didn't know you knew about them."

Karen grinned at her son. "I did a computer class for single women at the library. Erin showed us how to set up our profile and upload photos. It's not all that difficult once you know how."

"You shouldn't be going on those sites. You're not single, you're a widow." Trent's voice hitched a few degrees higher. He didn't look pleased at the prospect of his mom taking an interest in any man that wasn't related to her. "It's dangerous. There are people out there waiting to take advantage of you."

"You're as bad as your brother. I'm sixty years old, Trent. If a nice man wants to take advantage of me, then I might listen to him." Karen ignored the shocked look on Trent's face and smiled at Gracie. "I've got my first date lined up for this Saturday."

"You've what?" Trent's coffee sloshed over the table.

Karen stared at Trent over the rim of her mug. She took a small sip, then grinned at her son. "A date. Something you haven't been on in months."

"We're not talking about me. You can't go on a date. It's...it's..."

"Exciting, terrifying, and scary all at once?" Karen added softly. "I haven't been out with a man since before I married your dad. I might be a little rusty, but I'm ready to meet some new people."

"But Dad..."

Karen clamped her lips tight. "Your dad died three years ago, Trent. I loved him like no one else on the planet. But it's time to push my comfort zone. I want to have fun and be happy, and maybe stay out all night and wait for a lecture from you."

Trent sank lower in his chair, rubbing his hand across his face. "Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I seem to recall saying the same thing to you and your brother, but it didn't make any difference." Karen stood up and moved behind her son. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave him a big hug. "Thank you for caring. I'll keep your number on speed dial."

"I guess there's no point asking who he is?"

"No." Karen grinned. "Otherwise, I'd have you and Jordan playing bodyguard."

Gracie watched the smile that passed between Trent and his mom. A knot of sadness settled in her chest. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes until all that was left was an empty hole of longing. Sometimes grief snuck up on her so fast that she didn't see it coming.

She missed her mom more than the day she'd died. Ever since Gracie had left home, they'd called each other most nights, catching up on what had happened during the day. When her mom had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, they'd spent more time together, making the most of every minute to balance out the ones that wouldn't be theirs.

For the last six months, she'd missed those phone calls and knowing her mom wasn't far away.

Trent laughed at something his mom said, and Gracie wondered if he knew how lucky he was.

Gracie curled her legs beneath her and settled on the couch. Tonight had been fun. Karen had stayed for dinner and Jordan had turned up with an empty plate in his hand. Gracie couldn't resist a man with a mischievous pout, so she'd joined them for dinner. Between stories about Trent's childhood and his mom's attempts to throw him in the path of true love, she hadn't laughed so much in months.

She closed her eyes and listened to the music drifting through the living room.

"If I offered you a hot chocolate, would you say yes?"

Gracie sniffed the rich, sweet brew that wasn't far away. She opened one eye. "If this is your idea of a peace offering, it works for me." She dropped her legs off the couch and reached for the mug.

"Not so fast. How desperate are you?"

Gracie dropped her hand. "I believe that should be my line, considering your need for marital bliss."

He held the chocolate out again, wafting it under her nose. "Double blend, made with a frothy cap of fresh cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon."

"Okay. You've exploited my one weakness in life. Hand it over and I'll listen to anything you say as long as it doesn't involve a ring or a marriage license."

He passed her the hot chocolate, then disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later he reappeared with another steaming mug in his hands.

Gracie raised her eyebrows.

"I didn't know if I'd be pushing my luck, so I only made one at a time."

"You should be scared. Before your mom came out to the ranch, she had us paired off and married quicker than you can ride your horse."

Trent sat opposite her, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "Don't take Mom too seriously. She's a matchmaker from way back. For the last few years, she's dedicated her life to finding me the perfect woman."

"All I can say is either your standards are too high or your mom's looking in the wrong places." As she sipped her hot chocolate, Gracie enjoyed the sugary sweetness hitting her taste buds. "Are you going to tell me why you're so desperate to get married?"

"I'm not desperate," he growled. "I've got options."

Gracie frowned. The last thing she'd heard, those options included a girlfriend, not a wife.

Trent stared into his mug of chocolate for so long that she thought he was trying to uncover the mysteries of the universe. He looked up. Every trace of laughter had left his face.

She put her drink on the table. Her gaze traveled from Trent's hands woven tightly around his mug, to the despair clouding his eyes.

"I didn't date much after Susan left. I guess I didn't want to fool myself into thinking another woman would want to live with me. Especially after the person I thought was perfect couldn't stand living here. When Dad died..." He cleared his throat. "I had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he wasn't around anymore. Last year, Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I guess that put everything into perspective quicker than anything else that's happened. I want a family. I want to raise my children on the ranch and watch them grow to love the land as much as I do."

Gracie bit her bottom lip. "Is your mom okay?"

Trent nodded. "They removed a lump from her breast. She had six weeks of radiation therapy and still goes to the hospital for regular scans. So far, everything's okay."

Gracie picked up her mug. Her hands shook as she took a sip. After all the heartache of the last few years, Trent wanted a future he could count on. She understood that need better than most. "I'm glad your mom's better. I guess we should be thankful she didn't bring a priest to the ranch."

"Or the women from her craft group. I'd prefer Father Michael over Doris, Jenny, and Kristina any day. As soon as I told Mom I wanted to get married again, she started making a wedding ring quilt. Heaven help me if I haven't found the perfect woman before it's finished."

"There must be lots of females only too happy to trot the light fantastic with a handsome cowboy."

"Not that I've found," he muttered. A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You think I'm handsome?"

Gracie frowned. "That doesn't mean I want to marry you." She tapped her fingers against the side of her mug. "So what qualifications would the future Mrs. Trent McKenzie need to have?"

"It's not a job," he muttered. "This is my life we're talking about. I want to find a woman I like. And I want children so that Jordan doesn't end up managing the ranch once I've gone. He'll turn it into a haven for stressed executives and city-slickers who want to play cowboy for the weekend."

"What's wrong with that? Look at me. I'm here, aren't I? And I don't know one end of a cow from the other."

"Precisely. And look where that got me."

Gracie stuck her nose in the air. "So this is all about your future and having children to inherit the ranch? What about love?"

Trent's level stare sent chills through her body. "I'm not letting my heart rule my head this time around. As long as we like each other and she wants a family, that's good enough for me."

Gracie's mouth dropped open. "You'd marry someone just to have children?"

He nodded, clamping his mouth together so tight that she wondered what else he was keeping to himself. Gracie tried to look as though a loveless marriage didn't bother her, but it did and he knew it.

Marriage and children had never featured highly on Gracie's list of things to do. She had to be the worst candidate for any male wanting a wife and two-point-five kids. But she knew all about love and how it could change a person's life. "I'm going to forget you're aiming for the bottom of the barrel and hope you find someone you love." She left her empty mug on the table in case she was tempted to knock some common sense into Trent's thick head. "So what's the minimum _experience_ a woman would need to marry you?"

"At the rate I'm going, if she was single and willing, I'd take her."

Gracie had no doubt about that. "Let me rephrase the question. You and I both know there's no way I'm ever doing the deed with you." Heat scorched her face. "I mean...I'd never marry you."

"Don't worry. I never took your comment any other way."

Gracie ignored the amused gleam in his eyes. "So, what is it about me that makes you realize I'm the worst possible candidate for the job? Desperate as you obviously are."

"Well, let's see." He put his mug down and began ticking points off his fingers. "You have absolutely no experience of ranch life, you don't know the first thing about Montana winters, you don't know how to shoot a gun or shoe a horse, you're bossy, and I've got heifers that are taller than you."

Gracie stared at him in amazement. "Don't hold back on account of me sitting here."

"The way I see it, the woman I marry has to have lived and breathed ranch life since the day she was born."

"It's no wonder your pool of potential applicants is severely restricted." She scowled. "Why don't you marry one of those tall heifers you're bragging about? They meet just about all of your criteria. You don't even need to talk to them, so they won't notice you're a bit intellectually deficient."

"You know, Gracie. That cutting comment would have hurt so much more if your face wasn't covered in a cinnamon and chocolate mustache."

A ball of heat rushed to her cheeks. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she gave him another glare for good measure. "What if I said I'd help you find a wife?"

"I'd get mighty suspicious."

He should be. Gracie wasn't about to let any unsuspecting female fall for a man who didn't believe in love. "My offer comes with a condition or two."

Trent smiled. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Gracie cleared her throat. A woman could be forgiven for overlooking certain character flaws when a man smiled at her like she was the best-kept secret he'd ever found. It was just as well she wasn't one of those women.

"You need a plan," she said, "A strategy for finding a wife. What do you do for company?"

"Talk to the cows?"

Gracie rolled her eyes. "You need to make a list of potential candidates."

"I'm one step ahead of you, short-stuff." Puffing out his chest, he looked incredibly pleased with himself. "I've already got a list."

"You have?"

"Yep." He hauled himself upright, disappearing through the living room door. He came back a few minutes later, waving a piece of paper in the air. "Top five candidates."

Gracie snatched the paper out of his fingers as he settled back in his chair. "I can't believe there are five women who qualify."

"Scoff all you like. That's the best I could come up with. Diane Pitman got engaged last week, so you can cross her off the list."

"I can see how that would eliminate her running appeal," Gracie muttered. "So what have you done about wooing the final four?"

"I'm not into wooing. I want a wife, not a love-sick puppy to keep amused."

Gracie slouched in her seat, a groan of despair hovering on her lips. "Do you really think a woman will simply turn up and tell you she's ready to be your wife? You have to market yourself." She tried to think of a suitable ranch like analogy. "Pretend you're in the cattle yard, wanting to attract the highest bidder. Someone will be desperate enough take home a bull of an unknown pedigree with enough brawn to keep a girl happy."

She ignored the snort coming from the chair opposite her. Tapping the list with her finger, she searched her brain for inspiration. "What you need is a barn dance. Music, food, dancing, and lots of single women as well as your final four. What do you think?"

"About being called a bull or the dance thing?"

"Pay attention, Trent. I'll call your mom tomorrow. She'll know all the ins and outs of a barn dance. How about we aim for a week on Saturday? That should give us enough time to get things organized."

"It depends on those conditions you were talking about."

"They're just itsy-bitsy details."

"The only itsy-bitsy thing in here is you. You'd better tell me before I put my life in your hands."

Gracie pulled herself a little taller. He wouldn't have much of a life left if he'd sat on her side of the coffee table. "You have to promise that you'll try to choose someone you love."

"I don't need to love someone to have children with them."

"But your children need to know their parents love each other."

Trent slouched in his chair. He took a deep breath and searched her face with eyes that were far too knowing. "I'll do my best."

Gracie nodded. Heaven help any woman mad enough to fall for a lonesome cowboy, let alone one with eyes that could melt the frost off any bad intentions. "So what about the barn dance?"

"I could probably spare a couple of men to help get things organized. If you think you can pull the dance together, go for it."

Leaning across the table, she shook his hand. "Trent McKenzie, you've got yourself a deal. Just wait and see. Before the end of the month, you'll be signed, sealed and delivered to a woman only too happy to take you on."

# Chapter 4

Two days later, a horn honked from the driveway. Gracie ran out to meet the red sports coupe idling in the morning sunshine.

Karen grinned from behind the steering wheel. "Are you ready to give the stores in Bozeman an early wake-up call?"

"Ready and willing. I've got Trent's credit card burning a hole in my pocket, a spending limit of astronomical proportions, and a list a mile long of what we need." Gracie reached for her seat belt. "I've also been given strict instructions to keep you away from all jewelry stores."

Karen winked. "Sounds like Trent's been a busy boy."

"Don't get your hopes up." Gracie laughed. "This dance is an investment in his future. If he doesn't find a wife soon, he'll drive me insane with his mumblings about dude ranches and phony cattle drives. Why did he ban jewelry stores from our shopping extravaganza?"

"Trent's trying to wean me off a harmless addiction to anything bright and glittery. There's a little store in Bozeman that calls to me in my sleep."

"Don't worry. You're in good hands with me. He doesn't know that I'm a bling girl from way back. If we stick together, he won't know what's hit him."

"Are you sure you don't want to skip the dance and become my daughter-in-law?"

"It wouldn't last." At least that's what Gracie told herself every time Trent sent her a melt-in-your-mouth smile. "We'd drive each other insane within a few months. Thanks for helping to organize everything."

"Send an S.O.S. out to me any day. Between you, me, and the girls, we've got every contingency covered."

'The girls' were an excited group of girlfriends and wives of the cowboys working on the ranch. A couple of Karen's friends had even pitched in to help. The day before they'd all met at the Triple L and settled in for a few hours of strategic planning, good company and Adele's chocolate chip cookies.

Karen and Gracie were in charge of the decorations. They planned on transforming the barn into a dance venue worthy of the best country club in Montana.

Gracie pulled a shopping list out of her bag. "Did the hire store get back to you about the tablecloths?"

"Thirty red and white checkered tablecloths will arrive in the next couple of days. Jake's happy for us to pick them up next week. And before you ask, all the fairy lights will be here on Tuesday."

Gracie put down the piece of paper, remembering another list that was never far from her mind. She'd tracked down two J. Greens this week. One was Jenny Green, a fifty-two-year-old bookseller in Bozeman who'd been only too happy to talk about another J. Green—her daughter, Janice. Two down, eight left to find.

Karen might hold the key to one of the James Greens on her list. Gracie wasn't going to miss the opportunity to ask her about him. "I noticed the Green family has been invited to the dance. Have you known them long?"

Karen smiled. "I've known Kristina and Jim for half my life. Their sons went to school with Trent and Jordan. There were plenty of weekends when the boys helped with the hay baling and ate us out of house and home. One of their sons is working in Great Falls. Alex is following in Jim's footsteps, touring on the rodeo circuit. Did Trent mention they were coming?"

"No, I was trying to work out which guests are ranchers and who work in town." Gracie bit her lip, feeling a little guilty about stretching the truth.

Karen glanced across the car. "Remind me to introduce you to Kristina. Has Jordan booked a band for the dance?"

"He made a few phone calls last night and found a group he's happy with." Gracie picked up her barn dance list and ran her finger down the things that needed to be done. "Trent will email the invitations. All we have to do today is organize the tables and chairs and buy the decorations. I thought I'd hire a car after we're finished."

"Trent must have a vehicle you can use."

"He does, but I don't want to take advantage of his hospitality. He's already helping me more than he needs to."

"In that case, there's a company in Durstan Street that can help with a rental. We might even have time for a little recreational spending of our own." Karen grinned. "What that son of mine doesn't know won't hurt him."

Gracie stumbled in the back door with an armful of parcels.

Trent glanced up from his computer. "You're back early." He hadn't expected to see Gracie until dinner time. But here she was, sunglasses perched on top of her head, and a look of satisfaction plastered across her face. He knew that look. A shopping trip that left a woman feeling that happy didn't come cheap.

He stood and stretched. "Tess called and left a message. She's emailing me the recipe for the pasta salad you enjoyed. You can give her a call if you've got any questions."

"Thanks." Gracie stacked her bags on the kitchen counter. "We had lunch at her café. We've been invited to a barbecue she's having next Saturday night."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Every second week I meet up with some guys for poker night. The trade-off is that we babysit their children on the in-between Fridays. Tess is part of the girls-night-out brigade and offered to have a family barbecue at her place."

Gracie frowned. "I didn't get the impression that Tess is married."

"She's not. She moved to Bozeman about a year ago. Tess became friends with the couple who started the whole Friday night thing."

"You might be too busy wooing your lady loves to come to a barbecue."

"My lady love might be there."

Gracie's gaze spun toward him. "Tess wasn't on your list."

He leaned against the doorframe. "But Katie and Jo-Jo are."

Gracie frowned. "If you know so many single women, why haven't you made a move on one of them?"

"I don't make moves." The truth was, he'd forgotten how. Jordan had tried to give him some tips, but every time he tried talking to someone he got tongue-tied and bolted for the nearest exit. "What kind of rental did you find?"

Gracie headed toward the fridge. She had a smile stuck to her perfect mouth, as if she knew he'd deliberately changed the subject. "A pickup. Your mom thought it would be safer than a smaller car. I visited the library while I was in town. They've digitized most of the local newspapers, so I had a good look through those. I met Erin, the librarian who runs the computer classes."

Trent hoped Gracie had kept away from the online dating sites. "Did you find any information about your dad?"

"Maybe. I found an article about a group of men who left on a world rodeo tour about eighteen months before I was born. I ran out of time to find out who they were, but Erin offered to do another search for me. If it's okay with you, I thought I'd head to the library at about three o'clock tomorrow. I want to see Erin and do a few more things."

"It's fine by me. Did you get everything you need for the dance?"

"We've ordered most of the furniture and I brought back some of the smaller decorations. I've left them in the barn so we don't have to take them across next week." She took a long, cold swallow of orange juice. "You'll be pleased to know that we barely spent half our limit."

His eyebrows rose. "I take it Mom didn't buy any jewelry?"

Gracie hid behind the glass of juice, taking another hasty gulp.

Trent waited while she rinsed the glass and composed her features. The makings of a grin skimmed across her face, curling a sliver of muscle tight in his gut.

"Umm. We had good intentions, but there was one little store on Main Street we had to visit. They had a half-price sale." Flicking him a quick glance, she said, "What could we do?"

"Not Dominique's? Please tell me Mom stayed clear of that store."

Gracie's eyes took a sudden interest in the view through the kitchen window.

He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "How much, Gracie?"

"A woman never discloses another woman's purchases. All I'll say is that I was incredibly surprised by her restraint."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?"

"You're a cowboy, Trent. You're used to living on the edge. Comfort isn't supposed to be your middle name."

"Sometimes a man needs to know his mom's still on the straight and narrow and not buying must have diamond pieces."

"You've got nothing to worry about. Your mom got one small item. It was half price and lovely. That's not to say that I didn't over-indulge, though." A saucy smile hovered on her lips. "My credit card didn't see the light of day in Dominique's, but I did find a store called Aladdin's Cave. Do you want to see what I bought?"

Without waiting for his answer, she dug through her stack of shopping. Out popped a shiny gold bag with a picture of a lamp printed on the side. Trent really didn't know if he should look. With Gracie staying on the ranch, he felt as though he was supporting a chapter of jewelry addicts anonymous.

Looking extremely pleased with herself, Gracie whispered, "Look at these."

He gazed at the assortment of bracelets, earrings, and necklaces laid out in front of him. Sunlight danced off the sparkly loot, sending a rainbow of color across the far wall. His mom was a goner with Gracie on the loose. The two of them would never be safe shopping together again.

"Very pretty. But there's not much need for sparkly jewelry in the middle of a cattle ranch."

"I don't need to be living in a city to wear them." She pulled a strand of 'diamonds' off the table, "I might wear this lovely necklace next time I ride Daisy. I'm sure _she'll_ appreciate the effort I've gone to."

"You'll probably spook all the other horses from the glare bouncing off the glittery bits."

"Have I ever told you there's not one romantic bone in your body, Trent McKenzie."

"More than once, honey."

Gracie gave him a bland look. She carefully put her purchases back in their bag and headed toward the stairs. "As much as I've enjoyed your company, I need to get changed and meet Jordan. He's showing me how to muck out a stall."

"Lucky Jordan."

Her snort of laughter brought a smile to his face. He walked back to his office and studied the spreadsheet on his computer. Gracie in jeans and a T-shirt was enough to give a man sleepless nights. But Gracie in a short summer dress and strappy sandals that showed off her pink painted toenails, just about had him on his knees. If she looked like that each time she hit the stores in Bozeman, he'd have to make sure he wasn't around to admire her purchases afterward.

He shook his head and tried to focus. Jordan would need his wits about him if he planned on teaching Gracie anything, especially if she got it in her head to be downright sassy.

Trent stared at his computer. Maybe he'd wander down to the barn once he'd finished the accounts and give his brother some moral support. God knows he'd need it with Gracie around.

An hour later, Trent threw his pen down in disgust. Since Gracie's unexpected return, he hadn't finished any work. His spreadsheet wouldn't balance and his Internet connection had died. What he needed was a cup of coffee and a piece of Mrs. Davies' vanilla cake. It had to be better than staring at a computer screen and wondering what Gracie and Jordan were getting up to in the barn.

Standing up, he glanced through the window. Who was he kidding? Even Mrs. Davies' cooking held little appeal compared to a pixie with pink toenails. He reached for his boots and pulled them on. He might as well put himself out of his misery and get some fresh air.

Before he'd made it three-quarters of the way across the yard, squeals of laughter came from inside the barn. He increased his speed just as Jordan's booming voice roared in the still afternoon air.

Rufus and Spot were barking their heads off.

Gracie let rip with a laugh that was quickly followed by a deeper male voice. He couldn't make out the words, but he knew for sure there was more going on inside those four walls than mucking out the stalls.

Trent stood quietly inside the barn, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light.

Gracie let out a peal of laughter, shouting, "Die, cowboy!" as she threw a pile of hay on Jordan's head from the overhead loft.

Pure delight shone from her face. She sat waist deep in the hay, a chaotic mess of red curls and hay stalks falling around her face. A sparkling tiara hung off one side of her head and if he wasn't mistaken, she'd added diamante earrings to her barn-girl meets Hollywood ensemble.

Rufus noticed Trent long before anyone else did. He barked an excited greeting, running backward and forward between Trent and the haystack called Jordan.

Gracie gazed down from the loft, giving him a cheeky wave. "Hi, boss. Want to come and play?"

All kinds of thoughts flashed through his mind. He frowned at Jordan, catching the gleam of laughter in his brother's eyes.

Yelling up to Gracie, he said, "Some of us have work to do." With a pointed look at Jordan, he added, "And some of us obviously don't have enough to do."

Gracie giggled from the heavens. "Don't be a spoilsport, Trent. Look around you...all the stalls are mucked out and clean. You couldn't ask for two more dedicated employees. This is play time before I start dinner."

Trent glared at her. "Would you mind telling me what you're doing stuck halfway up a three story barn, throwing hay over my idiot brother's head?"

"It's called having fun." She caught her tiara as it slipped off her head. "You should try it sometime."

He could feel his temperature rising at the saucy grin on her face. "Come down here. Your family won't thank me if I send you home in a box."

Leaning over the edge of the hayloft, she yelled, "What was that? I didn't quite catch it."

He moved further into the barn. "I said, come down—"

A pile of hay landed on his head.

Jordan hooted with laughter and Gracie giggled so hard that she fell backward into the loft. All Trent could see were her feet dangling in midair.

He shook his body like a wet dog, flicking hay everywhere. Great clumps fell from his head and he plucked rogue strands out of his mouth and from the front of his shirt. "Gracie Donnelly, you would have to be the most troublesome import Montana has ever seen."

Sticking her head over the side of the loft, she yelled, "Comes with being a Kiwi. We're tough, not like you girls from Montana."

Trent and Jordan looked at each other and grinned.

"She's all yours, bro'," Jordan said. "It's because of you she's here, so you should take some responsibility."

Trent moved toward the ladder leaning against the back wall. He started climbing. "You made a critical error of judgment, Gracie." He'd almost reached the hatch. "Always have an alternative escape route before you belittle a man's ego."

She sat in the middle of the loft, grinning like a cat who had caught a tasty mouse.

"Before you come any closer, just remember who's making lasagna tonight. Any funny business and the cook goes on strike."

"Who do you think cooked before you arrived?"

"You had leftovers from the night before?" She asked hopefully.

He shook his head, moving closer. "Nope."

Gracie wiggled backward. "Okay, hotshot. I take back my slander on your manly virtues. Let's call it quits and go downstairs."

"Nope."

Her gaze darted around the loft. "Jordan..." she yelled. "Are you still here?"

Silence.

Trent picked up two handfuls of hay and moved closer.

Pushing back as far as she could go, she scrunched her eyes tight. "Just watch the tiara." She held her breath, waiting for the hay to strike.

Trent gazed down at her upturned face. She looked like she was about to turn blue from oxygen deprivation. Something warm slipped along his veins and wedged in his heart. He dropped the hay and took another step forward.

"Come on, Trent. Just get it over with."

He knew this was a bad idea, knew it could be the beginning of the end of Gracie's stay on the ranch. But fool that he was, his body ignored what his brain told him was right. He knelt in front of her, planting an almost-not-there kiss on her lips, savoring the sweet touch of her mouth with something close to reverence.

Gracie jerked backward, staring at him with eyes the color of a Montana sky before a rainstorm hit; deep, dark blue, swallowing everything in its path.

It could have finished then. It _should_ have finished then.

He should have told her how sorry he was, what an idiot he'd been. But instead of pulling away, he ran his fingers along her jaw, brushing the edge of her lips with a hand that wasn't quite steady. As the pad of his thumb brushed over her mouth, Gracie moved forward, leaning into his body and undoing the last of his good intentions.

He tilted her face toward his, teasing the corner of her mouth with his lips. Gracie's hands curled in his shirt, pulling him closer until he felt the heat of her body against his chest. Her lips opened and her tongue flicked inside his mouth, sending all the blood in his body due south.

The need slamming through his body shocked him, left him trembling and so off-center that he couldn't think straight. Couldn't do anything except haul Gracie closer, groaning into her open mouth like a love-struck fool.

And that's when he knew he was in trouble. He liked Gracie. More than liked her.

If that didn't give him enough reason to run like hell, he didn't know what else would. He'd traveled down the same path before and look where that had gotten him. Married to a woman who'd happily traded him for a suit-clad executive in a concrete jungle. After saying goodbye to the only woman he'd ever loved, he'd buried himself so deep in misery that it had taken years to shovel his way out. And it wouldn't happen again.

"Gracie," he said, drawing back from her.

Taking a gulp of air, Gracie stared at him with a dazed expression on her face.

He didn't know where to look. He stuffed his hands in his jeans, moving as far back as he could without looking like he was on the run. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kiss you."

Gracie's cheeks flamed brighter than the feathers on a red-tail hawk. She scrambled to her knees, brushing hay off her clothes and seriously avoiding eye contact with him. "Don't think anything of it. It was just a kiss. I won't hold it against you."

Her face got a whole lot hotter.

He'd ruined everything. Lost his mind. But darn, she sure looked cute with the tiara hanging off her head. He reached out to catch it before it fell, but thought better of it. He grabbed her hand instead, hauling her the rest of the way out of the hay before he made an even bigger mistake.

"Come on, Gracie. It's time to leave the loft to the mice."

Gracie turned on the kitchen faucet, rinsing a bowl covered in smears of chocolate frosting. The last few days had flown by. In between ignoring the hottest kiss she'd ever had, she'd made a few more trips into town. The last decorations for the barn dance had arrived and thanks to Erin's list from the library, she'd tracked down another J. Green. Only it turned out he was too young to be her father.

When she wasn't in town or helping Adele in the kitchen, Trent let her tag along with him. He'd introduced her to the other ranch hands and taught her how to fix a fence. It was just a pity he'd spent more time laughing than helping mend the wobbly wires.

"Are you ready yet, Gracie?" Trent stood in the kitchen doorway, hands planted on his hips and sunglasses covering his eyes.

She didn't need to be a rocket scientist to know he was getting titchy. "If you hadn't eaten half the frosting, I would have been ready ages ago." Gracie put the cake into a box. "Did you get the chicken wings out of the fridge?"

"And the wine, and the salady things you made. Are you sure you don't want to take the kitchen sink?"

"It wouldn't fit in your truck." Gracie shooed him out of the way and raced upstairs, yanking a towel off her wet head. "Can I borrow your hair dryer?" she yelled over the banister.

"Top drawer on the left in the bathroom."

Gracie found the hairdryer and plugged it in. Bending forward, she let the hot air blow through her hair. She flicked her head up and looked in the mirror. Thank goodness for hair ties and baseball caps. The frizzy red halo staring back at her made her look like she'd been shoved into a power socket.

Jamming the hairdryer back into the drawer, she ran into her bedroom. In two seconds flat she'd pulled her chocolate splattered T-shirt off and found a clean one to wear. Ponytail, baseball cap, lip-gloss, a flick of mascara and she was done.

She took a deep breath and then remembered her camera. She opened her closet and started hunting. Trent had taken her to the cattle sale yards yesterday. She was sure she'd put the camera back on the shelf in front of her, but it wasn't there.

Gracie had a quick look under her bed and on top of the dresser. Not there either. She walked onto the landing. Trent was disappearing out the door with a box of food in his arms. "Have you seen my—"

"Your camera is in the truck."

"How did you know what I was looking for?"

Trent grinned over his shoulder and Gracie's traitorous heart went flipperty-flop. "It's turned into your third arm. I haven't seen you leave the house without it. You'd better hurry or the barbecue will be over before we get there."

Gracie glanced at her watch, stomping on her hormones as she headed downstairs. They were ten minutes late. "It's just as well I know you're exaggerating."

"Tell me that when you see the crowd of children waiting for food." He headed out the door.

Gracie's eyes darted to the nicely rounded bottom and long legs striding through the timber frame. Not that she cared what Trent's bottom looked like, of course. But a woman couldn't help but appreciate what was clearly outlined for the entire world to see. Especially a woman who'd been living with the body beneath those faded blue jeans for two weeks.

With one last look around the foyer, she locked the front door. Snug jeans or not, Trent McKenzie was completely off limits.

Gracie rushed across the yard and pulled herself inside Trent's truck. She sniffed the air. "You smell nice." She bit her lip, cursing her runaway mouth.

"You'll make me blush with all that sweet talk."

Gracie locked her seat belt into place and took a deep breath. Not a good move. She could practically taste pine and man rolled into one delicious package. "You should save your blushes for your future wife."

"Ouch. Do I detect a hint of grumpiness inside that little body of yours?"

"I'm not grumpy. Have you made any progress on your hunt for the perfect childbearing woman?"

The wheels on Trent's truck spun as he drove away from the house. "What do you think?"

Gracie knew he'd been working from dawn to dusk. Unless he'd started wooing someone on the phone, he hadn't been near any females except Gracie, Adele, his mom, and a few thousand heifers. "I think I'm being grumpy."

"Nice to know you're not perfect."

"Keep that in mind when you see Jo-Jo and Katie. From what I've heard, they'll be happy to whisper sweet nothings in your ear all night."

Trent leaned forward and switched the radio on. "Should be an interesting evening, then."

Gracie watched a group of children kick a ball around the backyard. Their parents sat on picnic chairs nearby, enjoying the last heat of the sun.

Tess's house sat tall and proud on a tree-filled street in the center of Bozeman's historic district. Surrounded by homes built nearly a hundred years ago, it made Gracie feel like she'd stepped back in time.

The hardwood floors had creaked under her feet when Tess had given her a guided tour of her beautiful home. Wood detailing gave the house bucket loads of character and the smell of lemon polish made Gracie feel a little homesick.

"Come and meet my friend, Kristina Green."

Gracie turned toward Trent's mom. "She's here?"

"I brought her as my date." Karen grinned. "Jim's running a rodeo course and I thought she'd enjoy catching up with everyone. We're sitting on the patio."

Gracie followed Karen across the yard. She spotted Tess sitting beside the deputy chief of police, a mountain of a man called Dan Carter. Trent sat beside Dan, with Katie Jenkins firmly planted beside him.

As soon as they'd arrived, Katie had introduced her nearly-six-foot-in-heels self, then tried to whisk Trent away. It hadn't worked. He'd stood beside Gracie until the last sausage had disappeared from the barbecue. She didn't know whether he'd stayed because he was hungry or because he felt obliged to keep her company.

With Katie tucked beside him, he didn't look as though he had much on his mind at all now.

"Gracie, this is Kristina."

Gracie looked at the pretty woman sitting on a wooden bench. "It's nice to meet you." Soft silver curls framed Kristina's smiling face. Deep green eyes, almost the same color as the oak leaves shading the patio, stared up at Gracie.

Kristina patted the seat beside her. "It's good to meet you, too. Come and sit down. Karen told me Trent has a guest staying with him out on the Triple L."

"And that I thought you would be my daughter-in-law," Karen added.

Gracie felt a warm blush skim her cheeks. From the way Katie's body was pressed against Trent's, Karen might not have too much longer to wait. Only it wouldn't be Gracie who would be joining the family.

Kristina laughed. "You'll embarrass the poor girl, Karen."

"Nonsense. Gracie knows I mean well. Trent's been talking about getting married for so long that I think he's forgotten he needs to meet a woman first. But we've got a plan, haven't we, Gracie?"

Gracie looked between Karen and Kristina. Did everyone in Bozeman know Trent was looking for a wife?

"Don't worry," Kristina whispered, "Karen hasn't told anyone except me about the reason for the barn dance. I think it's a great way to find someone special."

Gracie tried not to look too stunned. Trent wasn't looking for special. He was looking for desperate—someone who wasn't worried about her husband's lack of happy-ever-after tendencies.

She sighed as she took another peek at Trent. If he didn't set alarm bells off inside her body, she could almost imagine becoming more than his friend. But Gracie needed to know she was loved. And she had a life back in New Zealand. And a reason for coming to Bozeman.

She glanced at Kristina, wondering how to ask about her husband's past without sounding like she was ticking off bullet points engraved on her brain.

"Can I get anyone a drink?"

Gracie jumped. Her alarm bell man stood beside his mom, a grin plastered across his too handsome face. She looked behind him, trying to find his number one fan.

Trent's eyebrows rose. "Lost something, Gracie?"

She bit back the words skimming along her tongue.

"Come and join us, Trent. We were just talking about the barn dance." Karen moved along the bench, leaving a space between her and Gracie.

Gracie looked at the empty spot beside her, then at Trent. He had far more important things to do than sit squished between his mom and his temporary cowgirl. Things that involved a whole lot of squishing with someone that wasn't her.

"You'll get permanent wrinkles if you keep frowning at me, Gracie." Trent sat on the patio stones, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I'll sit here, Mom. It looks as though Gracie still hasn't forgiven me for leaving the steak in the fridge."

It wasn't the steak she'd been worried about and he knew it.

Kristina looked between Gracie and Trent, a smile hovering on her lips. "Karen told me you're a teacher, Gracie. How old are your students?"

"Most of the children are eight years old. I've been emailing them lots of photos of the ranch."

Trent pushed the brim of his hat back, giving Gracie the full blast of his laughing gray eyes. "She's taken about fifty photos of the cattle, and I don't think there's one cowboy that hasn't been snapped at least a dozen times."

Gracie wrinkled her nose. "You're just jealous that Jeb's photo ended up on the notice board in my classroom."

"I don't need to be cowboy of the week." He grinned when Gracie poked out her tongue. "You'd better watch your manners or else Kristina might think all Kiwis are cheeky little critters."

Kristina put her arm around Gracie. "I've known you for years, Trent McKenzie, and I think you've met your match." She gave Gracie an extra squeeze. "Keep up the good work. You've got to keep a man on his toes. Otherwise, he gets too comfortable in his own skin."

Gracie looked at the man in question. She blushed at the devilish gleam in his eyes. Just thinking about Trent's skin was enough to make her wish that cuddly Katie might suddenly appear and whisk the man of the moment away.

"The children in Gracie's class want to know everything about cowboys," Trent said to Kristina. "I told Gracie that Jim runs a rodeo school. Do you think she could visit and take some photos before she heads back to New Zealand?"

"Of course you can, Gracie. Just give us a call first in case we're between classes. Jim's away for the next couple of weeks, but any time after that is fine. He traveled around the world as a professional bull rider for quite a few years. We've got a lot of memorabilia he could show you."

Gracie's heart leaped in her chest. She looked at Trent. His body looked relaxed, but there was a stillness about his face that raised goose bumps along her arms.

"It must have been an exciting life," he said.

Gracie held her breath, waiting for Kristina's reply.

"Sometimes, but raising two boys on my own for most of the year took a toll on all of us. We knew his professional career wouldn't last forever. Sacrificing our time together for a few years seemed like the obvious thing to do if we wanted to set ourselves up financially."

Gracie looked at Kristina. "Was it worth it?"

"We couldn't have bought our ranch without the money Jim earned or started the rodeo school. But if someone in the same situation asked for my advice, I'd tell them to hold off having a family until they could all be together."

"What countries did Jim visit?" Trent asked.

Gracie's gaze locked on his face. The words had fallen off the end of his tongue as if the question wasn't the most important thing in the world to her.

Kristina dropped her gaze to her hands. She looked at Gracie, then turned back to Trent. "Jim visited a lot of places. His passport looks like an advertisement for the United Nations. He got so many stamps that we gave up counting how many countries he'd visited." She cleared her throat. "Who wants dessert?"

Gracie didn't think she'd be able to eat another thing. Her stomach twisted into a ball of knots. The questions she'd carefully thought about back in New Zealand seemed too personal, too much of an intrusion into Kristina's life. She needed to speak with Jim but, for the first time since she'd begun her search, she wasn't excited. She was scared. Scared of the answers to questions that had sat heavily on her shoulders for the last eight months.

"You go ahead, Kristina." Trent stood and held out his hand to Gracie. "I want to introduce Gracie to Jenny."

Gracie grabbed hold of his hand, staying close to the only person who knew what she was thinking.

"We'll be back soon." With his arm wrapped around her shoulders, Trent nudged Gracie toward the side of the house. "You've gone pale. Take a few deep breaths."

As soon as they were out of sight, Gracie leaned forward, bracing her hands on her knees. She sucked in a lungful of air, trying to clear the fuzzy dots drifting across her eyes. Trent's hand rubbed her back in slow, deliberate circles, centering a world that had tilted on its end.

"Are you all right?"

Gracie nodded. "I don't know why I got so wound up. Half the men in Montana know how to ride a bull." She stood up, trying to control her pounding heart. "I shouldn't get excited about Kristina's husband being in the rodeo. It could be a coincidence that he traveled a lot."

"What's your father's name, Gracie?"

"I can't tell you."

Trent's hand dropped to his side. "Can't or won't?" He stared at her with a mule-headed stubborn look on his face.

"If I find my father it could stir up a whole lot of issues. I don't want you getting in the middle of my problems when you've got enough of your own."

"Who is he, Gracie?"

Trent looked like he was fit to burst when she kept her mouth closed.

"It won't do any good keeping it a secret if you want help finding him."

"You have to promise not to tell anyone I'm looking for my father."

"You think I'd go around telling everyone?"

"Of course, I don't," Gracie sighed. "But he might not live here and the list of names I've got could be totally wrong."

"You wouldn't have come all this way if you didn't have an idea of who you were looking for. What's his name, Gracie?"

"James Green."

Trent's body stilled. "So it could be Kristina's husband?"

Gracie shrugged her shoulders. There had to be thousands of men in the world with her father's name. It would be pure luck if her father still lived in Montana. If he was still alive. "I don't know if he's Kristina's husband or not."

Trent's gaze traveled the length of the house, staring at a clump of trees sheltering the backyard. Children's excited voices cut through the silence that had settled on their hiding place.

"Jim won't be home for a while. That will give you time to locate some of the other people on your list."

"I guess I should be glad he stopped still long enough to settle in one place. At least I'll be able to find out one way or another whether we're related." Her lips wobbled into a half smile. A breeze stirred the nape of her neck. It was cool and inviting, taking the sting out of the late afternoon heat. "We'd better get back to the others before they think we've disappeared."

"Will you be all right?"

"I'll be fine." As they rounded the edge of the house more than one set of eyes followed them. "But I don't know about you."

A ball flew along the ground toward them, followed by a red-faced six-year-old looking like he'd nearly run out of steam. Gracie stopped the ball and kicked it back. The little boy's face broke into a grin as he threw the ball to the other children playing in the yard.

She watched him for a moment longer before turning to Trent. "I'm not about to stand between a man and his dreams."

"What dreams?" he asked.

"Marriage. Babies. If people see us spending time together, your wedding plans will turn to custard. Katie might be tempted to look elsewhere for her match made in heaven."

Trent bent down until his head was level with hers. A smile hovered on his lips and his gray eyes flashed brighter than the afternoon sun. "You've forgotten one thing, Gracie," he whispered. "I'm not looking for heaven."

# Chapter 5

Tossing the salad one last time, Gracie put it on a tray and headed out of the kitchen. This time tomorrow night, the first guests would arrive for the best barn dance Bozeman had ever seen.

Smoke from the barbecue stung her eyes as she walked through the French doors. She placed the tray on the wooden table and passed Trent a drink.

"Thanks, Gracie. How was your ride with Jordan?"

The sausages and steak sizzled on the hot grill. "Spectacular, breathtaking, inspiring...and that's only for starters."

"I take it you're talking about the scenery and not Jordan?"

Gracie laughed. "If I told Jordan he was all those things his head would swell so much that he wouldn't be able to get through the door." Smiling at the warmth in Trent's gaze, she ducked her head and fiddled with her glass. "In between admiring the mountains, we found enough wildflowers to fill the barn to overflowing."

"I take it you're hooked, then?"

In more ways than one, a little voice whispered. "It puts your life into perspective when you're sitting on top of the world, watching nature do what it's done for hundreds of thousands of years."

Trent nodded and turned over the meat.

Gracie took a sip of her drink. "I'm beginning to understand how you feel about the land. If I'd grown up here, I'd want to raise my family on the ranch, too."

Trent's mouth dropped open. "Be still my beating heart. Does this mean you'll marry a lowly cowboy?"

"No," she laughed. "Life isn't supposed to be that easy."

"You're a cruel woman."

She blew him a kiss. "That's what they all say." Thinking about his desperate bid to find a wife reminded her of the reason she'd come to Montana. Over the last week she hadn't had any luck tracking down any more J. Greens.

She'd even caught a ride into town with Jordan, convincing him to do a drive-by of two addresses she'd found in the phone book. He'd taken his beat-up work truck, sitting hunched in the driver's seat with his hat pulled low, just in case someone recognized him. He hadn't wanted to add stalking to his colorful reputation around town.

"I had a call from Gerald today." Trent turned back to the barbecue. "His mom's not doing as well as they expected. He's staying with her for another few weeks. He wants to know if you're happy to spend the first six weeks here and the last two in Bozeman."

Gracie held the cold can of lemonade to her flushed face. "How do you feel about that?"

"Fine by me. As long as you're happy?"

Gracie stared long and hard at his back. He didn't seem worried about living together for another four weeks. She'd almost been looking forward to going into Bozeman. At least that way she could get on with her life and leave Trent to find the perfect Mrs. McKenzie. Wanting to jump his bones every time she saw him hardly made for a stress-free living arrangement.

"Gracie?" Trent's back muscles clenched under his fitting T-shirt as he turned to look at her.

She dragged her gaze back to her drink. She really had to do something about her fascination with his body. "Okay, let's give it a go. But if I start annoying you, just tell me and I'll stay in town."

"Can I have that in writing?"

Gracie sighed. "I'll leave it on the kitchen counter in the morning. What time are you leaving for tonight's poker game?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Only when you've finished cooking dinner," she said sweetly.

"Just for that, you can have the burned piece of steak."

Jordan walked onto the deck, looking a lot cleaner than the last time Gracie had seen him. He'd spent the afternoon with his head buried in a work truck, covered in grease and engine oil, grumbling non-stop about idiot people who didn't know how to look after their vehicles.

"You need to have a serious talk with your brother, Jordan. He wants to give me burned steak for dinner."

"He usually saves that for me. You must be making an impression on him."

Trent choked on his lemonade. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glared at his brother. "And you would be here because?"

"I'm hungry, and you're giving me a lift into the game tonight." Jordan glanced at the barbecue. "Sausages need a turn. I'll get a plate before dinner's ready."

Trent watched his brother swagger into the dining room. "How did he know we're about to eat?"

"It could have something to do with the smoke signals you're wafting over the ranch." Gracie laughed. "It was probably the burned steak that did it."

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. Gracie stood in the kitchen, munching on a piece of toast and watching the first rays of sunshine peek over the horizon.

Trent walked into the room looking all sleep tousled and cuddly. "Gracie? What are you doing up and dressed so early?"

"Morning to you, too." Smiling at his stunned expression, she added milk to her mug of chocolate. "We're going into Bozeman for the farmers' market, remember?"

"Yeah, but it's only five-thirty. We don't have to leave for another hour." He yawned and scratched the back of his head. "Why aren't you still in bed?"

"I promised Karen I'd make more pavlovas for the barn dance. I made five yesterday and there's another two in the oven. By the time we leave, they'll be done."

Trent reached across the counter, pouring himself a thick, black mug of coffee.

Just thinking about the mega-dose of caffeine hitting his system was enough to make Gracie's stomach turn.

Trent leaned back against the counter. A look of bliss settled on his face as he swallowed his first sip. "I know, I know. This stuff's not good for me. But it tastes really good first thing in the morning."

Reaching for her hot chocolate, Gracie raised it in a salute. "We've all got to live dangerously at some point. How was the poker game?"

Trent shook his head. "Not good. Adam cleaned me out of chips twice." He glared across the room as Jordan came bounding into the kitchen. "What are you doing here this early?"

"Isn't that wonderful. A person gives up their Saturday morning sleep-in to be greeted by a grumpy old man." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Not exactly husband making material there."

Gracie coughed as a toast crumb disappeared down her windpipe.

Trent glared at her. "Gracie?"

"Not me, I haven't said a word. Scout's promise."

Jordan opened the fridge, pulling out last night's leftovers. "The trouble with you, big brother, is that you think we're all as blinkered as you are. Mom said you've been looking for a lady-love. What could be more romantic than meeting Ms. Right in the middle of a pile of hay?" He looked across at Gracie.

She felt herself blush scarlet.

Jordan stuck his plate of food in the microwave. "I've seen the guest list and the single girls are coming from far and wide. You're not the only one who wants to look good."

"You must think you're a lost cause if you're up at five-thirty to get ready." Trent poured another cup of coffee, holding it out to his brother as he walked past.

"Some of us don't need to stay in bed to look beautiful, and some of us need all the help they can get." Jordan stared pointedly at Trent. "As I'm not the man in the firing line, I can afford to be a little more relaxed about my ruggedly handsome features."

Gracie burst out laughing, earning her a sharp glance from Trent. Which made her laugh even harder.

Jordan winked at her. "Mom gave me a list of jobs to do this morning. After I've had breakfast, I'll go to the barn and make sure the decorations haven't fallen off the wall." He eyed the toast that had just popped. "Are you going to eat that or just look at it?"

Trent sighed, passing him the toast.

Gracie rinsed her dishes and put them in the dishwasher. "I'll be back in ten minutes, Jordan. I'll meet you at the barn and give you a hand until Trent's ready to leave."

Jordan grunted as Gracie left the room.

Trent followed her out of the kitchen. "Wait up, Gracie. I've got a surprise for you. Take a look in the living room."

She stopped in the hallway. "You've found a wife already?"

"Ha ha, very funny."

Gracie stuck her head around the wooden door on her left, not quite trusting the grinning cowboy behind her. "My suitcases!" She ran across the room and hugged her neon pink bags like long lost friends. "How did they get here?"

"Someone from the airport called yesterday afternoon. Jordan and I picked them up on the way to the game last night." A slow smile spread across his face. "The cases are almost as tall as you are. How many clothes did you bring?"

"I've got an outfit for every occasion in here." Gracie flipped a bag onto its end and extended the handle. "I never thought I'd see my luggage again."

"It's hard to miss four bright pink suitcases. We got some funny looks when we were wheeling them out to the truck. I'll give you a hand to put them upstairs."

Trent leaned forward, taking the case Gracie wheeled past him out of her hands. His fingers brushed her skin and a jolt of something she didn't want to name licked along her body.

He reached for another suitcase. "How's the hunt going for your father?"

She breathed a sigh of relief. At least he hadn't noticed the heat whipping along her skin. "Three crossed off my list, not including Kristina's husband." Gracie lifted the handles on the last two suitcases.

"Do you want help narrowing down the list?"

"I'll be okay. You need to concentrate on finding a wife."

Trent stopped in the middle of the room and scowled. "Have you thought about what will happen after you find him?"

"Until eight months ago, I thought my father was dead. Just knowing why he left would be better than nothing." She pulled on the handles of her suitcases and wheeled them past Trent.

"Wait a minute. Why did you think your father was dead?"

"Mom told me he died in an accident when she was pregnant." Gracie hauled her cases upright and turned to look at Trent. "He was a rodeo star. They met when he was touring New Zealand and she fell in love with him. For my whole life, I thought they were married." Gracie shook her head. She felt like a fool for all the daydreams she'd built around the happy family that had never existed.

"What kind of mother would lie about something like that?"

Gracie had wondered the same thing. She'd been angry and upset when her mom had finally told her the truth. But those feelings were nothing compared to the grief that had swept through her when her mom died. "She came from a small town. People talked. It wasn't like it is today. She was eighteen, pregnant, and her parents weren't happy. She ran away from home and lived with a friend in Wellington. She pretended she had a different life because it protected her from gossip and made it easier to make a life for us."

"What made her change her mind and tell you the truth?"

Gracie felt the same swell of emotion that built deep in her chest whenever she thought about her mom. "She was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Mom died six months after she first saw her doctor." Gracie bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back the rush of tears that never seemed to end. She took a deep breath and glanced at Trent. "It was her way of letting me know that I wasn't alone in the world."

Trent dropped the bags he was carrying and wrapped Gracie in a hug. She held onto his waist, burying her face in the musky scent that would always remind her of him.

"I'm sorry, Gracie."

"I'll be okay." She stepped away and wiped her eyes. "I promised Mom I'd try to find my father. But I don't know what will happen if I do find him or what I'll say."

Trent gently tipped up her chin with his fingers. His eyes were soft and sincere, and her heart melted. "I'll be here for you when you find him, Gracie. We can sort it out together." A grin crinkled the corners of his eyes. "But in the meantime, we've got four monster suitcases waiting to be delivered. You want to give me a hand?"

Gracie nodded. "Thanks, Trent."

"You're welcome, short-stuff."

Gracie enjoyed every minute of her visit to the Farmers' Market. As they'd wandered around the craft stalls, they'd munched waffles thick with fresh strawberry jam and cream. Colorful tents sat side-by-side under a clear blue sky, everyone happy to talk about what they were selling or to pass the time of day with a Kiwi tourist.

After the craft section, Trent took her to the fresh produce area. In no time at all they had the truck loaded with food, ready for the barn dance that night. As soon as they got back to the Triple L, Karen came bounding down the stairs followed by six of 'the girls.'

"Morning everyone." Karen opened the back of the truck and started passing out the boxes of fresh fruit and vegetables. "We've put the desserts in the living room so no sneaking samples, Trent. Jordan's already been banned. Corn, potatoes, greens, and bread all go in the kitchen. Jenny, can you take the fruit into the dining room and start on the platters?"

Karen commanded her troops with military precision. By early afternoon, they'd washed, cut, scooped and plated so many dishes that Gracie's head spun. They'd ended up with enough food to feed half the town and then some.

Trent stuck his head around the kitchen door as Karen cut the last tomato. "The barbecues are ready and we've unpacked the plastic plates and cutlery. Jordan's showing the band where to set up, so we're good to go." He stared at the kitchen. "Man, look at all this food. There's not one scrap of spare counter space anywhere."

Karen smiled, "It's good practice for a wedding reception."

Gracie watched the color drain from Trent's face. He wasn't happy. It would be a big night for everyone, even bigger for a man looking for the perfect wife. Maybe he had performance issues. Stress could do funny things to some people, but she was ready and willing to give him a pep talk before the guests arrived.

Trent flicked a glance her way. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll be with Jordan."

Gracie smiled as he made a quick getaway. The thought of a wedding reception must have scared him worse than she thought. He didn't stand a chance against four available women, let alone a mother who had marriage on her mind.

She added another handful of grapes to the fruit salad, moving out of Karen's way as she placed two huge bowls of strawberries on the table.

Roll on five o'clock. The scene was set. Now it was up to fate and a desperate cowboy to take the lead role.

Gracie stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Even if she said so herself, she looked pretty good for a greenhorn from New Zealand.

Her hair sat in a mass of soft curls around her face, thanks to half a bottle of conditioner and more than a few squirts of hairspray. A touch of eye shadow, a flick of mascara, and a coat of the palest peach lipstick she owned kept her makeup understated and fresh. Unlike her dress.

While she'd been shopping with Karen, Gracie had bought herself a saucy cowgirl outfit. As Karen had rightly pointed out, her reputation had already been embellished. A flirty little outfit should hardly come as a surprise to anyone who had heard Caitlin's Walmart story.

A pair of jeans and cowboy boots wouldn't do for a woman mad enough to jump on a plane and travel thousands of miles to live with a cowboy she'd never met.

The black cowgirl dress Gracie had chosen finished about four inches below her panty line. It hugged her body like a second skin. The only thing remotely demure about the outfit was the silver stitching embroidered around the collar and over the top of the short sleeves. A wide black belt sat low on her hips, complete with a big silver buckle covered with sparkly stones. Gracie slipped her feet into her favorite pair of ankle boots. Grabbing the black cowboy hat off her bed, she placed it on her head, admiring the way the crystal band twinkled in the bedroom lights.

By the end of the night, no one would be under the illusion that Trent McKenzie and Gracie Donnelly were a couple. Two of the four potential Mrs. Trent McKenzies would be crossed off his list, and two would have happy faces beside their names. Even if her feet lived to regret it, she'd dance with every cowboy in the room before she danced a single two-step with Trent. After tonight, he'd be on his own. Gracie had helped him find a wife. It was up to him to find true love.

Skimming an extra coat of gloss across her mouth, she gave her reflection one last look. She glanced at the list beside her bed, tweaked her skirt, and headed downstairs into party command central. Showtime had arrived.

Trent glanced at his watch for the third time. If Gracie didn't get here soon, she'd miss the first group of guests that were parking in the field.

A wolf-whistle filled the living room. He looked across at Jordan. His brother was almost drooling on the spot.

Turning around, Trent tried to see who or what had turned him to mush—and then he stopped breathing.

Blood roared through his veins as Gracie sashayed down the stairs in an outfit made for pleasure. The sparkly buckle sitting low on her waist drew a man's eye straight to her legs. She might not be tall, but she was perfectly designed.

Gracie had just the right amount of curves to set a man's mind to wondering how her body might feel nestled close against his. And a wicked sense of humor that knew what to do with those curves when she got there.

His body tightened. He knew what those curves felt like, and call him selfish, he wasn't inclined to share.

She walked toward him, placing one finger under his slack jaw. "You can swallow now, Trent."

He gazed into her eyes, nearly throwing her over his shoulder when he saw the mischief lurking in their depths. "You can't wear that dress in public."

Picking a stray piece of cotton from the front of his shirt, Gracie fluttered her lashes and whispered, "Where would you like me to wear it?"

Raw heat scorched his skin.

She gazed up at him with big blue eyes full of laughter. "Are you ready to woo your ladies tonight, handsome?"

He shook his head. If she walked into the barn wearing that outfit he'd spend all night making sure no cowboy wooed her. Keeping tabs on the four remaining women on his list seemed insignificant compared to keeping tabs on Gracie.

"Little Lady," Jordan purred. "Why don't you let my big brother sort out his guests while you and I take a walk on the wild side?"

Trent glared at Jordan. Hogtying him in a field sounded like a mighty fine start to the evening.

Gracie laughed and grabbed Trent's arm. "Thanks for the offer, Jordan, but your brother and I have something to discuss. Save me a dance." She ran her gaze around the room. "Come on, Trent. The only quiet place is your office. Just keep looking straight ahead. Otherwise, you'll be given something to do." She pulled him across the room, closing the office door behind them.

He watched as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Not a good idea. The bottom of her dress lifted half an inch toward heaven. Half an inch it couldn't afford. "You can't wear that outfit." He sat in his chair. "Every time you move, your dress rides up another notch."

Gracie looked at her dress and grinned. "It's not as bad as you think."

"That dress is every bit as bad as I think."

"No, it's not. I'm wearing black exercise shorts underneath, so I'm practically decent." She laughed at the disbelief on his face. "It's true, look." Lifting the bottom of her dress, she revealed a tight pair of black Lycra shorts that were a couple of inches shorter than her dress. "Happy now?"

Happy didn't go anywhere near to describing how he felt. It had been years since a woman had so innocently lifted her skirt for him. Lots of not so innocent thoughts raced through his brain as his eyes had an up close and personal encounter with her legs.

If he wanted to get out of this office in one piece, he needed to ignore her skimpy outfit and find out what was on her mind. "Okay, Ms. Cowgirl. Would you mind telling me why you hauled me into the office when our guests are arriving?"

"I want to make sure you understand what you're doing tonight. All the ladies on your short-list are coming, so you've got no excuse not to get your options down to the top two. If you don't manage that you won't stand any chance of being married this side of Christmas."

"Did you bring a list of questions you want me to ask?"

Gracie rolled her eyes. "Don't be tacky. But it wouldn't be a bad idea to ask them similar questions. Then you can compare their answers against each other."

"Are there any other pearls of wisdom you want to share before I brave the lion's den and search out my first victim?"

A huff of air escaped her lips. "You can't call them victims, Trent. They're dates...well, sort of. I'm sure you can manage to get around all four women in one night."

She sat on the chair opposite him and his mouth dropped open. Her skirt got a whole lot tighter and a whole lot shorter.

She crossed her legs and he almost fell off his chair.

"Umm, Gracie. I don't think it's a good idea to cross your legs like that. It might give someone the wrong impression." Heat rushed through his body as she stared at him with a bewildered expression on her face.

Looking down at her legs, she blushed like a ripe beet. "Oh, for goodness' sake. It's just a little bit of leg. I'm perfectly respectable." She did however, uncross her legs and stand up, yanking the skirt of her dress down to cover her shorts. "Now that you've finished ogling my legs, can we get back to business? How do you feel?"

Good grief, what did the woman want? Blood? The only word that sprung to mind was horny. But if he said that, he'd end up on the receiving end of a slap on the face. "Stressed." That just about covered every last inch of him.

Gracie walked across the room. Hot darts of pleasure scorched his skin as her fingers rubbed his forearm, intending to soothe his worries away, but creating a whole lot more.

"Don't worry. If you feel overwhelmed, just say you need to go to the bathroom or something. That way you can disappear for a few minutes and get yourself back on track. You'll be fine. I've got complete confidence in you."

She gave his arm a final squeeze before turning toward the door.

He needed that 'bathroom or something' stop now. "I feel sorry for any man unlucky enough to set your radar buzzing. He wouldn't stand a chance against you, Gracie."

"It all comes down to careful planning and good execution." She poked her head out the office door and her skirt rode even higher. "The coast is clear. Let's go, hotshot. Your ladies are waiting."

Gracie looked at the twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the rafters of the barn. She took another bite from her cob of fresh corn, blinking as a squirt of juice hit her in the eye. Her gaze swept the barn, watching everyone have a good time. It should have been easy to enjoy the dance, but she felt like the Christmas Grinch on a bad day. And it was all her fault.

She should have left Trent to sort out his own love life, but she couldn't leave him stranded in a sea of single females. So in blissful ignorance, she'd asked Karen to point out the women Trent had short-listed.

She'd already met Katie, but wrongly assumed her physical attributes were a genetic abnormality. After seeing the other three candidates, she knew she'd been wrong. So wrong that it would have been funny if it had been another man's list. The top qualifiers for a life of marital bliss with Trent McKenzie included legs that stretched as far as the moon and big boobs.

The cowboy in question was busy schmoozing lady number three. Even a snail would have noticed that they were enjoying each other's company. It looked like a mutual admiration society had formed in the middle of rural Montana.

Jo-Jo Allen turned out to be a brunette who more than met Trent's strict prerequisites. She also had a face Aphrodite would have been proud to call her own. Jo-Jo had worn a snug pair of jeans and a skimpy pink T-shirt that showed more than a few inches of toned midriff. She leaned into Trent when he spoke to her and, every now and again, her hand brushed along his forearm.

_Yuk_. Gracie knew there had to be something wrong with Jo-Jo to look so good but still be single. Squinting into the distance, she thought she could see the telltale signs of a woman on the verge of forty. But that could have been the squirt of corn juice blurring her vision.

She probably had the intelligence of a horse. Maybe even a body odor problem that kept men at bay.

Jordan sat beside her, a plate of food piled to the brim. "Cheer up. Trent knows how to handle Jo-Jo. She likes her men handsome and rich. Not necessarily single, if you get my meaning."

"Jordan McKenzie, it doesn't matter to me who Trent spends his time with. That's the whole point of the dance. To mix and mingle."

"Sure, Gracie."

Her face sizzled as hot as the steak Jordan chomped into. It was time to distract him from this line of discussion. Otherwise, she'd get herself into trouble. "Who's the blond girl in the red dress you were dancing with?"

A faint blush stained Jordan's cheeks as he looked across the barn. "Tracey Wood. She lives in Billings."

Gracie peered into his face. "Have you known her long?"

"Since college."

Picking up another cob of corn, she kept munching. Her feet ached from all the dancing she'd been doing, so she wiggled her toes, trying to ease the tension in her feet. If she'd had half a brain, she would have kicked her boots off by now and danced in bare feet. But she wasn't giving up the extra inches they added to her height. Especially after seeing Trent shuffle-step his way across the dance floor with lady number two, the voluptuous Katie Jenkins.

As the music continued to rattle through the rafters, Jordan kept her amused with stories about high-school. He pointed out so many people that she lost track of their names.

Karen sighed as she sat on the hay bale beside Gracie. "What a night. I don't think my legs have stopped dancing since I walked into the barn. How's everything going?"

Apart from figuring out that Trent had gotten further under her skin than she thought, Gracie felt just great. "Couldn't be better."

Karen shot her a suspicious look. "Have you seen much of Trent?"

Jordan laughed. "He's got a fan club circling him. Every time I see him, his arm is locked around a new woman."

Gracie should have felt relieved. She didn't.

Word must have gotten out that Trent McKenzie was looking for a wife. As soon as he'd hit the dance floor he'd been swamped with women trying his boots out for size. Their flirty glances and not-so-subtle wiggles were enough to make Gracie want to stay single for the rest of her life.

She sat a little straighter, determined to ignore Trent's fan club. Watching Mr. Desperate juggle a dozen women wasn't the only reason she'd come to the dance. "Have you seen Kristina Green, Karen?"

"She couldn't make it. Her son's competing in a rodeo competition in Idaho. With Jim still away, she decided to go and watch Alex."

Gracie sighed. Plan B had turned out to be a fizzer as well.

A tall man in his sixties walked toward them. He tipped the brim of his hat and smiled at Karen. "I thought I'd come and get you before you dance with someone else. Would you like some dessert?"

A soft blush skimmed Karen's cheeks. Gracie looked at Jordan. The twinkle in his eye told her that the man grinning at his mom wasn't a stranger.

"That would be lovely, Jeff." She stood and brushed hay off the back of her skirt. She hooked her hand around his elbow and smiled into his weather-beaten face. "Lead the way, my friend."

Gracie watched Karen and her dessert date circle the room. "Who's Jeff?"

"He owns a ranch about twenty miles from here. Mom's known him for years." Jordan's gaze followed Jeff and his mom. "He's a good man."

Tess sat down. "You both look far too glum for a barn dance." She handed Gracie a paper plate. A thick slice of cake was perched on top. "I recommend the chocolate mud cake Doris made. It's incredible. Hi, Jordan."

Jordan smiled, then looked at the plate in Gracie's hands. "Did you bring some for me?"

"Are you kidding?" Tess grinned at the disappointed look on his face. "I had to stand in line to get this much. There's more on the dessert table, but I wouldn't wait too long. There are a lot of sweet-toothed people here tonight."

Jordan shot up from the hay bale. "Nice talking with you ladies, but I've got a hot date with dessert lined up. See you later."

Tess laughed as Jordan's broad shoulders wove through the people on the dance floor. "That man lives for food. When he comes to town, he clears out my entire supply of muffins in one swoop."

"That's because you're a great cook and you love what you do." Gracie bit into the piece of cake. Gooey chocolate fudge melted in her mouth. "Delicious."

"I'm making mud cake next week in the café. Doris gave me her recipe. Who's Trent dancing with?"

Gracie scanned the dance-floor. Option one had her body squashed against Trent's chest, looking like a woman in lust. "Nicky Scotson."

"Gary and Maureen's daughter? I thought she'd left for some high-flying accounting job in Denver."

Denver sounded like a great career move. Especially when Nicky favored tight blue jeans and a white shirt. Gracie had spent half the night trying to ignore the women curled around Trent's body. He had so many choices for the next Mrs. McKenzie it was a wonder his head didn't spin off his neck.

"Are you all right?" Tess's blue eyes were full of worry.

"I'm fine. Just a little tired." And heartsore. Gracie took another bite of cake.

"I know just the thing to cure whatever's bugging you." Tess's smile was mischievous. "Grab that hat of yours. These two cowgirl imports are going to show the locals how a line dance should look."

Gracie looked in horror at the dance floor. The music had stopped, Trent had disappeared, and half the people around them were hustling into the middle of the barn. "You've got to be joking? I've never line danced in my life."

"Stick with me, you can't go wrong." Tess grabbed her arm and pulled her upright.

Before Gracie knew what was happening she'd been swallowed whole by the crowd, shuffle-stepping between denim-clad bodies moving in a wave across the barn. The only good thing about being vertically challenged was that she couldn't see what Trent was up to. And that suited her just fine.

Trent slipped out the side door of the barn. He needed to disappear before another woman hauled him onto the dance floor. Getting the four women on his list together at the same time had seemed like a great idea. But as soon as Jo-Jo Allen wrapped her manicured nails around his neck, he knew he was in trouble. By the time Mary-Beth curled her body around his, he'd been ready to make a run for his life.

"Are you looking for fresh air or safety?"

Trent jumped. His gaze shot to his right. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." His friend, Nathan, sat on an old wooden bench. He'd stretched his long legs out in front of him, looking like a man who didn't give a damn about anything.

"It's about time someone shook you up. It looks as though you're recruiting a harem."

The scowl on Nathan's face almost matched the mood Trent was in. He stared at the glowing string of lanterns Jordan had hung on the barn wall. Moths threw themselves at the glass cubes, bewitched by the promise of bright light. All the poor suckers got for their effort was an early exit plan and singed wings. He knew how that felt.

Trent moved out of the doorway and sat beside his friend. "I'm an idiot."

"I could have told you that years ago."

"I'm serious."

"When haven't you been?"

Trent let his gaze roam over the black night. Cozying up to four available females wasn't working. He didn't want any of them. Every time he looked up, Gracie was the first person he saw. And when he couldn't see her, he made sure he found her. "Why aren't you inside?"

"Same reason as you, except I'm not being hunted by a pack of females."

Trent crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You noticed."

"Hard not to. What's going on?"

He scuffed the heel of his boot on the ground. "I want to get married and have children." There, he'd said it, blurted it out to someone who'd understand the pickle he'd gotten himself into.

Nathan didn't laugh. He didn't say anything. His gaze landed on Trent with something that looked dangerously close to pity. "Your mom's told half of Bozeman you're looking for a wife."

Trent hung his head. The craft group had struck again. Put a bunch of mothers together with too much time on their hands and you had instant disaster.

"Most men opt for one woman," Nathan said. "You've got five of them in there watching every move you make."

"Four."

"Nope. Last time I looked there were five. Jordan introduced me to a cute little redhead by the name of Gracie. You forgot to mention that she's living with you. Sally thought she was your fiancée. But after all the back scratching that's going on in the middle of the dance floor, I'm not sure what's happening."

"Your sister heard wrong. If you'd come to the barbecue last week, you would have met her. Gracie came to Bozeman to teach at one of the schools. After that, she was supposed to stay on the Triple L to experience ranch life. She ended up on the ranch first."

He cleared his throat, hoping the convoluted tale he'd told made sense. "Mom organized it months ago." As if his mom added credibility to the sorriest state of affairs he'd ever been involved in. He should have listened to Gracie and married a heifer.

Nathan nodded. "Well, that makes your idiot tendencies about as clear as mud."

"Gracie's helping me find a wife."

"She must think we're all a bunch of losers if you need help finding a woman. Is it working?"

"I'm hiding here with you. What do you think?"

Nathan snorted. "You don't want to know."

The side door banged open. Trent leaped to his feet. "God almighty, Jordan. I thought you were Jo-Jo."

"Relax. She was tired of waiting for you. Last I heard, she disappeared with Stan Evans."

Trent sank back onto the bench. "Thank goodness for that."

"You'd better hold that thought because I'm about to make your night even worse. Gracie's not looking too happy about something. Dave's in there trying to cheer her up."

Trent leaped to his feet. "What's he doing?"

"Nothing you haven't been doing all night."

"He'd better keep his hands to himself or he'll have me to answer to." Trent stalked back inside, scanning the dance floor for his neighbor and a pint-sized redhead. Even when he couldn't see what she was up to, she tied him in knots.

And he knew exactly what he would do about it.

Gracie took one last look around the barn. Jordan and Tracey were busy hopping and bopping to a rock n' roll song. Tess had her feet resting on a chair beside Kelly Harris, the owner of the craft store beside Tess's café.

After two-stepping around the barn with a man called Dave, Gracie was ready to call it a night. Karen had organized a team of helpers to clean the barn the next morning, and she'd volunteered her services. At least that way she'd be free to disappear without feeling guilty about the mess she'd left behind. She made her way over to the barn doors, smiling and waving goodbye to the people she'd met.

"Where's Dave?" Trent moved in front of her, blocking her exit.

"I don't know." Gracie didn't know why he was scowling. A man who'd been surrounded by lots of adoring females should be happy.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed. It's nearly eleven o'clock." Gracie dropped her eyes to his shirt buttons. She crossed her arms in front of her chest before remembering what that did to the length of her skirt. So she held onto the lasso on her waist instead. "I promised Karen I'd help clean the barn in the morning, so I figured now was a good time to leave." Taking a step to her right, she tried to walk around him.

He took a step to his left, blocking her escape. "Did you talk to Kristina?"

"No. She couldn't make it." She tried making another move. He stepped closer.

"You haven't danced with me all night. How about one round on the dance floor before you call it quits?"

Clenching her fists into tight balls, Gracie looked into his handsome face. Lord help foolish women with reckless dreams. "I thought you'd be all danced out by now."

A shadow passed across his face. "A man could say the same thing about you. I don't think you missed a dance all night."

"Sure, Trent McKenzie. You really had time to keep track of me." She moved again.

He reached forward, holding onto her shoulders as she tried to spin away.

"Just follow my lead and we'll do fine." His hands traveled down her shoulders, skimming her arms until they curled around her fingers.

"I don't think so," Gracie said. She tried to find an excuse to leave, but she couldn't think straight with his fingers rubbing her hands. "My feet are sore."

He pulled her gently toward him. "I never thought I'd see the day when Gracie Donnelly would be scared to dance with a lonesome cowboy."

The hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "You haven't got a lonesome bone in your body, Trent McKenzie. And I'm not scared. I'm selective."

A lopsided smirk was all the response she got. The man had a nerve to dare her to do anything. After the way he'd been cavorting with girlfriends one through four, it was a wonder he could string two words together.

He tugged her hands.

" _Fine_. One dance and that's all." She set her jaw in a stubborn line, getting ready to be plastered from hip to cheek against his body.

He wasted no time hauling her close. From the moment they hit the dance floor, Trent pressed her firmly against him, wrapping Gracie in a warm cocoon of heat. As she relaxed against his chest, she struggled to remember exactly why she didn't want to dance with him.

Tonight had left her nerves raw and her heart pulverized. Watching Trent socialize with his four candidates shouldn't have bothered her half as much as it did. Dreaming up the barn dance was one of the craziest things she'd ever done. She'd even called the women, for cripes' sake, to make sure they'd be here to stroke Trent's ego in the hopes of becoming the next Mrs. McKenzie.

She'd never come to Montana with the thought of falling for a stubborn cowboy. She'd come to Montana to find her father. But here she was, battle weary and heartsore, still trying to work out where she'd gone wrong.

When the music stopped, Trent held her hand. "Come on. I'll take you back to the house."

"I'll be fine." Gracie let go of his hand and walked outside. She needed some distance between their bodies. She'd been lost in the touch and smell of a certain cowboy taking her on a two-person joy ride in the middle of the barn.

The crisp night air stung her hot skin, focusing her brain. Trent followed her, but she stood her ground, unwilling to share more of the evening with him. "Stay with your guests, Trent. I'll see you in the morning."

"No arguments. I'm taking you home." He draped his jacket gently around her shoulders, drawing the front panels close and surrounding her with his warmth.

"I don't need your jacket."

"It's cold out. A girl could get a mighty fine chill in the dress you're wearing."

The dress in question had caused quite a stir. More than one set of eyes had traveled down her body, and more than once she'd wished the skirt had been a little longer.

Gracie sighed. "If you need to walk with me, we might as well leave now."

Music followed them on the still night air, interrupted by bursts of laughter from the guests still partying in the barn.

As they reached the front door, Gracie handed Trent's jacket back to him. "Thank you. I'll see you in the morning."

"Not so fast, honey."

Gracie frowned when he followed her into the house. "If you want to talk about your four women, it will have to wait until the morning. I'm really not in the mood to dissect their good and bad points."

He hung his jacket on the coat stand. "This doesn't have anything to do with the four names on the list."

Gracie's patience was wearing thin. Standing in his hallway at eleven o'clock at night wasn't the best time to talk in riddles. Especially to a girl who felt like she'd just given away the major prize in a raffle without knowing how.

He moved closer, holding her hands in his. "I've wanted to kiss you all night. If this isn't something you want then you'd better stop me now."

Gracie prayed he couldn't feel the beat of her pulse throbbing through her veins. Or hear the rush of her breath as she struggled to ignore the hands wrapped around hers. This was _so_ not right, so much of everything that couldn't happen.

"What about the four women on your list?"

"There's only one I'm interested in and she's standing right in front of me."

Raising her hand, Gracie rubbed her finger along the dimple in Trent's chin. She couldn't quite understand how they'd gone from goodnight, to let's make out but, to a woman on the edge of a meltdown, his offer sounded pretty good.

She moved the tip of her finger from Trent's face to his chest, smiling at his soft groan. Excitement raced through her body. "Kissing you is probably about the worst thing I could do."

"But you're considering it?"

Gracie was more than considering it. "Just one kiss. I can't—"

Trent's mouth landed on hers.

A wave of longing swept straight to her heart. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pushed against his mouth, sliding her tongue along his, matching him stroke for stroke.

Trent pulled her into his arms, holding her between the wall and his body.

She melted against him, clutching his shoulders as his hips teased every last scrap of sense away. Just when she thought she couldn't let him go, he pulled back, gasping for air.

Resting his chin on the top of her head, he gently kissed her brow, then slid her to the ground. "I need to get back to the barn. We can talk in the morning."

"What?" Gracie stared at him. He couldn't have said what she thought he had.

"I'm going back to the barn."

"Now?"

He stepped away, the frown on his face telling her he didn't have a clue why she was upset.

"You can't kiss a girl senseless for the second time and then leave," she spluttered. "What do you think I am? A McDonald's checkout for sex-starved males?" Her temper spiraled almost as high as her hormones. "I never took you for a tease 'em and leave 'em kind of man, but I guess desperation brings out the worst in people." Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she glared with all her might, wishing she'd never locked lips with Trent McKenzie.

His mouth dropped open and a hot flash of heat scorched his face. "What did you want?" He stepped forward, staring at her as if this was her fault. "Did you want to finish what we started when there's a barn full of people outside? Did you want to keep kissing until neither of us had any brain power left between our ears?"

"It would have helped if one of us had more intelligence between their ears before we started," she yelled.

His eyes turned pitch black. She didn't like the predatory gleam sending danger signals along her body.

"There's nothing intelligent about this..." Reaching down, he lifted her off the floor, hauling her against his body. His mouth devoured Gracie in a kiss that made every bone in her body dissolve. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled him tight, gasping as he pushed against her body.

As her fingers ran through his hair, an image of Jo-Jo Allen fiddling with the same head of hair flashed through her brain. Gracie wouldn't be a convenient body for anyone. Her fingers tightened, yanking his head off her face.

She sucked great lungfuls of air into her oxygen-starved body. "Go back to the barn. There are other women in there who might be more receptive to your needs." Gracie swore she could see lightning streak out his furious eyes.

"It might help if you let go of my hair and unhooked your legs."

Gracie's hands dropped to her sides. Her feet dangled in midair before he let go of her bottom. A different kind of heat scorched her body. Embarrassment.

Without a backward glance, Trent stormed out the front door, slamming it shut on its hinges.

Gracie stared at where he'd been standing. Her legs wobbled so much that she slid to the floor. Trent McKenzie must have earned an honors degree in kissing. Her lips felt swollen and tingly. So deliciously used that she had to stop herself from imagining what else those lips could do to a woman.

So much for sorting out her life. She'd just made a complete fool of herself, twisting her life into so many knots that she doubted she'd ever be able to unravel the mess.

# Chapter 6

Gracie thought she'd be awake for ages after being kissed senseless. But she'd fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep until the first rays of sunshine streamed through her window. Like a bucket of ice-cold water hitting her in the face, she realized she'd had a lucky escape last night. Trent might have sent her hormones to heaven, but locking lips with him wouldn't solve either of their problems.

She groaned as she checked the time. If she didn't make a move soon, Karen would be here to start the monster clean-up.

Pulling herself out of bed, she threw on the first clothes she found and headed for the stairs. Halfway across the living room she smelled fresh coffee with a hint of toast thrown in. Either Karen had arrived early or Trent was already awake. She hoped like crazy she'd find Karen in the kitchen and not her kissing buddy from last night.

"Morning, Gracie."

She stopped in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat. Trent. "Morning," she mumbled. Her brain went into shut-down mode as she stared at the morning stubble shadowing his jaw. And nothing could have prepared her for the lips that were smiling in her direction. Remembering just how skilled that mouth had been sent a rush of heat to her face.

"Do you want me to put some toast down for you?"

"Hmm?" She wasn't paying attention. Her mind had wandered away from the kitchen and into the hallway.

"Toast. Do you want some?"

Nodding her head, she headed for the fridge. A glass of orange juice would unfuzz her brain quicker than a cold shower. And she needed both, real bad.

Trent dropped some bread into the toaster. "We need to talk. I've made up my mind about which woman I want to marry."

The bottle of juice thumped against the counter. She needed to sit down. Going from lustful images about an available male, to lustful images about a man intended for another woman's arms made her feel woozy.

She took a few deep breaths. Wondering which of the four women had caught Trent's eye was giving her a headache. It had to be Jo-Jo. She'd circled him all night, like a shark sensing fresh blood. Gracie had crossed her off the list as soon as she'd seen her long legs and other defining assets. She was far too shallow for her liking, but maybe Trent liked shallow?

The only other woman she'd considered had been Mary-Beth. Although she also had long legs and a full chest, Mary-Beth seemed like a really nice person. Maybe too nice for a rat-bag on the prowl for a wife.

The more she thought about Trent's problem, the angrier she became. It was beyond her how he could even contemplate marrying someone he didn't love. Plenty of people never got married, never had children. He wanted a wife for all the wrong reasons, and keeping his land away from Jordan had to be the dumbest one of the lot.

The man didn't deserve a nice girl like Mary-Beth or locking lips with someone like Gracie. He deserved to spend the rest of his days with a vulture like Jo-Jo. They could live the rest of their days auditing their bank accounts and breeding more prize-winning cattle.

If she was angry with Trent, she was even angrier with herself. Helping him find the answer to his dreams had seemed like fun at the time, but now it seemed plain silly.

Grabbing a glass from the pantry, she tipped juice into it and sloshed orange all over the counter. Glaring at Trent, she grabbed a dishcloth from the sink and waited for his final verdict.

She didn't care who he married. It was his decision and he had to live with it. "Let me know when you want me to move into Bozeman. I'll stay in a hotel until Gerald gets back."

He stopped buttering his toast. Guarded gray eyes studied the scowl on her face. "I want to marry you."

Gracie froze. "What?" Her hand landed in the puddle of juice.

"I want to marry you."

With her heart pounding, she waited for him to laugh at his joke. But he was leaning against the counter, butter knife in hand, looking for all the world like a man enjoying a normal early morning conversation.

Her brain felt thick and heavy, like it was wading through quicksand. "But I wasn't on the list." The more she tried to make sense of what he'd said, the less sense it made. "You can't marry me. I'm not getting married."

"Of course, I can marry you. It's a perfect solution."

"Who for? It's not perfect for me at all. I didn't come here to find a husband. I came here to look for my father. I want to find where I belong."

His knife clattered against the counter. He glared at her like she was a demented fool. "Why do you need to find yourself? You're standing right here in my kitchen and I've just asked you to marry me."

Gracie's toast popped with an almighty bang. She picked it up off the counter, swiping a thick knife of butter across the top. She didn't care about fat content and calories. She needed comfort. And if the only comfort she could find was with a thick inch of butter, then that was good enough for her.

Biting into the toast, she chewed like her life depended on it. "I'm not marrying you, so you might as well forget you ever asked me. Go for number two." With a growl she added, "I'm sure you're keeping your options open."

"What's gotten into you? Last night you were all over me like a good dose of poison ivy. Now you're acting like you can't stand the sight of me. What's changed in the last few hours that I don't know about?"

"Me. That's what's changed. Last night was a mistake. It should never have happened. My father abandoned me because he didn't love me. I flat out refuse to be part of any relationship, let alone marriage, not being loved for the person I am." Gracie threw the rest of her toast in the bin. "I will not be a convenient baby incubator to a man with half a brain. I've got a great life back in New Zealand. I don't need to marry someone like you." She stormed out the kitchen, heading for the front door.

"Come back here, Gracie." Trent bellowed. "We haven't finished discussing this."

"Yes, we have," she yelled from the porch, heading at top speed toward the barn.

Trent shoved his hands through his hair, trying to figure out what had just happened. What a mess. He'd just blown any chance of ever convincing Gracie they were perfect for each other. He wanted a wife, someone he could enjoy living with. He wanted children. He wasn't looking for love or any of the frilly extras that made a man forget what was important in life. And his land was the most important thing to him.

"What's going on in here?" Jordan stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and a no-nonsense look on his face. "I could hear you yelling from my truck. Where's Gracie?"

"She's gone to the barn." Trent pushed off from the edge of the counter and walked toward the deck.

"I don't know what you're hoping to achieve by bullying her, but it's stopping right now." Jordan followed him outside. "If you can't treat her with respect, I'll take her to Mom's house. At least she'll be safe from whatever hornet's buzzing in your brain."

"Butt out of something you don't understand." Trent braced his hands against the railing. "I'm not bullying Gracie. We had a difference of opinion."

"You could have fooled me."

Trent stared at the mountains, gripping the wooden railing tighter. "I asked her to marry me."

Jordan frowned. "You need to work on your approach. You're in serious trouble if that's the reaction you get from the woman you love."

"It wasn't that kind of marriage."

"What do you mean? How many kinds of marriage are there?"

Trent let go of the railing. "I want a family. I want children who will inherit the ranch. I like her, and I know she likes me." At least he thought she did. A woman who kissed a man until he forgot where he was must feel something for him.

" _You like her?_ No wonder she left." Jordan looked toward the mountains, then back at his brother. "Do you love her?"

Trent stuck his hands in his pockets. "Of course, I don't love her. Fifteen years ago I thought I was in love and look what that got me; a whole pile of emotional blackmail that twisted my mind in twenty different directions. I loved a woman who thought her life was over if she couldn't use her cell phone."

"Gracie's not like that."

"Yeah. She wants wooing. She wants roses, chocolates, and candlelit dinners."

"It's called love, Trent, not some phony excuse to stand in front of a priest and sign her life away."

"Tell that to the thousands of couples who get divorced each year."

"Forget the marriages that don't work," Jordan growled.

"Easy for you to say when you've never been there."

"I'd say Gracie had a lucky escape if having children is the only reason you want to marry her. If Mom knew what you were up to she'd be ashamed." Jordan let his words sink in before turning toward the house.

"Where are you going?"

"To the barn. Someone needs to make sure Gracie's okay."

The front door slammed as his brother left the house. Acid churned in Trent's stomach. He didn't want to think about his mom and dad's marriage. If he could have found someone who loved him as much as his parents had loved each other, he wouldn't be standing outside feeling like a jerk.

He may not love Gracie, but he liked her. A lot. Too much. Even he didn't know how he felt about her. But he did know that she was the perfect choice for him. Gracie wanted love, commitment, a future. She wanted to find her father. He wanted children.

Maybe they could both get what they wanted. He might grow to love her. Maybe, over time, the toe curling heat that spiraled inside him would turn into something more. And marriage would give Gracie the time she needed to find her father. She could search every state in the country and never have to worry about visas or work permits again.

He leaned against the wooden railing, staring off into the distance. If Gracie wanted wooing, then that's what she'd get. He could woo a woman senseless if he put his mind to it. He wanted Gracie in his life, and he planned on doing everything he could to make sure that's what she wanted too.

Gracie Donnelly didn't know it, but her single days were numbered.

Gracie collapsed the legs on a table they'd used last night. Her temper had calmed down to a slow simmer, leaving her feeling grumpy and hollow.

Jordan walked into the barn and lifted the table out of her hands, stacking it against a wall. "You did all of these on your own?"

"Yep." Gracie moved to the other side of the barn. She didn't feel like making small talk, big talk, or any kind of talk. Her heart felt like it had been squished under size thirteen cowboy boots and hung out to dry.

Jordan kept giving her sideways glances as she yanked crepe paper and balloons off the walls. He must have known something was up because he didn't say much. He just pointed at the next job that needed doing.

"You okay?"

Gracie looked up from sweeping the floor, flicking straw dust from her face. "Just dandy."

"You've worked your butt off in here. Why not call it quits for the morning? You can take my work truck and go exploring. I'll get a ride home with someone else."

Looking through the barn doors at the early morning sunshine, Gracie was tempted to make a run for it. There were lots of places she hadn't seen and lots of reasons why she didn't want to stay on the ranch. Her conscience tweaked at the thought of the work left to do. "What about the rest of the furniture?"

Jordan looked around at the near spotless barn. "The rest of the clean-up crew will be here in an hour. They can load the tables and chairs into the truck." Jordan grabbed her jacket, pushing her toward the barn doors. "Go."

Gracie looked at her watch. It was the perfect time to go hiking in the mountains. She'd be able to enjoy the scenery without having to dodge tour groups or families out for a day in the sun.

She took the keys dangling from Jordan's fingers and held them tight. "Okay, I'm going. Just keep that brother of yours away from me. He's not in my good books at the moment."

Jordan grinned. "I never would have guessed."

When Gracie left the barn, she didn't pay much attention to the sound of tractors working in the fields or the breeze flicking the sheets on the clothesline. All she cared about was keeping as far away as possible from Trent. His truck was nowhere in sight, so she drove across to the house and raided the kitchen for a picnic lunch.

After grabbing her backpack and a map, she left a brief note on the counter and headed outside. She doubted Trent would be worried about her, anyway. He had far too many other pressing things on his mind. Like finding a woman desperate enough to live out here so he could raise his children and talk to the cows all day.

As she drove along the highway, the knots in her stomach slowly unraveled. Whoever married Trent would need to know the full extent of his relationship issues. It was just as well she'd seen his proposal for what it was. If she'd been sucked into believing the man had feelings for her, it would have been a disaster.

She turned right, following the road signs to Bridger Bowl. As soon as she'd parked Jordan's truck, she grabbed her map and headed to one of the hiking trails. The farther she walked, the less she thought about Trent. So she kept walking, kept pounding the dirt trail taking her deeper into the mountains.

An eagle rose in the sky, screeching its early morning wake-up call to the world. Sunshine bathed the meadow in a dew fresh glow and Gracie breathed in the clean, sweet smell of pine trees.

Thousands of people came here every year and it was easy to see why. The slope of the mountain was perfect for a blanket of thick white snow. Gracie could almost hear the soft swish of skis as they cut across the dips and ridges surrounding her. She sighed, knowing she wouldn't be anywhere near Montana when winter arrived.

After another half hour of walking, she pulled a bottle of water out of her backpack and took a long, cool drink. A squirrel poked his head out of the wildflowers growing on either side of the trail. He looked at her, then scuttled behind some rocks, his gray speckled body disappearing out of sight. Gracie grinned when his head popped up again, farther along the trail.

She pulled out her map and ran her finger along a red dotted line. The next fork in the trail didn't look too far away. It was such a beautiful day that she couldn't see any reason not to keep walking.

She gazed at the mountains soaring above her and took a deep breath. She had no idea how to get herself out of the mess she'd created with Trent or what to say when she got back. But maybe it didn't matter. Maybe everything would sort itself out without any interference from her. And maybe a pink pig had just floated past in the sky.

"Where have you been?"

Gracie dropped her backpack on the kitchen floor and risked a quick glance in Trent's direction.

He stood in his office doorway looking like Lucifer reincarnated. With his hands braced on his hips and a stubborn jut to his jaw, it could only mean one thing. Trouble. All he needed was steam coming out his ears and he would have had the whole package wrapped up tight.

So much for not knowing what to say when she returned. Giving him a level stare, she reached inside the refrigerator for the juice. "I drove to Bridger Bowl and went for a hike along one of the trails."

"On your own?"

She knew where this conversation was going and she didn't like it. "Yes, _on my own_ , Trent McKenzie. I'm twenty-seven years old. I know how to look after myself." At his disbelieving stare she asked, "Didn't you get my note?"

"You mean the one that said you were going for a walk and you'd be back in a couple of hours?" There was no maybe about it. Steam curled from his head, warning her of an imminent eruption. "That was six and a half hours ago," he roared.

Gracie bit her tongue. She would _not_ get annoyed with him. "I lost track of the time. I'm sorry if you were worried."

Uncrossing his arms, he took a deep breath, letting his gaze travel slowly down her body.

Raw heat scorched every inch of her bare skin. Lucifer had definitely arrived.

"You're sunburned."

She didn't know whether he was annoyed or relieved that she'd escaped any major damage.

Trent scowled some more. "Next time let me know where you're going and take your cell phone."

Her teeth snapped shut. A bloody tongue would put the finishing touch on his lecture for irresponsible behavior. If he didn't quit soon, she'd lose what patience her hike had inspired and let him know exactly what dark thoughts were swirling around her head.

"Okay," she ground out. "I can do that."

Rubbing his hand along his jaw, he stared at her backpack. "Are you hungry?"

"What?"

"Food. Did you take anything to eat?"

"Of course, I took food with me."

Trent crossed his arms in front of his chest, then dropped them to his side. "Good. That's good."

Turning back to the counter, Gracie poured some juice into a glass and wondered what else was on Trent's mind. He never fidgeted, but right now he looked as though he didn't know what to do with himself.

"I want to apologize. For this morning." He cleared his throat. "I want to apologize for putting you in an awkward position. It was never my intention to upset you with my offer of marriage. Can we still be friends?"

Her glass sat forgotten on the counter. An apology had been the last thing she'd been expecting. Before she'd left Bridger Bowl, she'd decided that everything that had happened between them couldn't possibly work itself out. She needed to head into Bozeman before she got herself more involved in Trent's life. Now she didn't know what to do.

Gracie gazed at the six-foot cowboy standing uncertainly in the middle of the room. Why wasn't he sulking like all the other men she knew? He hadn't gotten what he wanted, would never get what he wanted from her, so why was he suddenly being so nice?

In some perverse way, it made total sense that he would be the exception to every rule she could imagine. From the moment she'd waved goodbye to her friends in New Zealand, nothing had gone according to plan. So why should Trent be any different? Here he was, apologizing for asking her to marry him. Apologizing for not loving her enough to give her what she really wanted.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to conjure up a spark of self-righteousness. It didn't work. Whenever she was around Trent, her body refused to listen to her brain. Some massive chemical imbalance reduced her mental agility to zero. She had to squash the soft spot inflating near her heart.

Attempting not to look like a total pushover, she walked across to him, slowly extending her arm. "Friends."

His eyes lit up at the softly spoken truce.

Damn. The soft spot inside Gracie just got bigger.

He clasped his warm hand around hers. "Friends."

Gracie buried herself deeper under her quilt, ignoring the banging on her bedroom door.

"Are you getting out of bed, sleepyhead, or do I have to come in there and wake you?"

"Go away. It can't be five-thirty yet."

"On the dot. If you're not downstairs in ten minutes, the deal's off."

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Gracie squinted at the alarm clock and groaned. They'd both been trying hard all week to forget about Trent's unwanted marriage proposal. So far, their truce had been working.

A late night at Karen's house had left cobwebs in her brain that needed to be swept away. Trent had offered to take her to Yellowstone National Park for a hike to Union Falls. It was supposed to be one of the most spectacular waterfalls in the park and she wasn't about to let the opportunity pass her by. But she needed to be downstairs and ready to help on the ranch by six. Otherwise, there'd be no trip anywhere.

As she dragged her feet downstairs, she sniffed the unmistakable scent of freshly brewed coffee. At least one of them would be wide awake. "Ready and willing to work, sir."

Trent grinned. "I don't think you'll make the army with that salute. Here's your toast. I'll meet you by the chicken coop in fifteen minutes."

For the next hour and a half, Gracie did her chores, catching up with Trent as he walked back to the house. By eight o'clock they'd packed their lunch and were heading toward Yellowstone National Park, ready to discover the world of Yogi Bear.

She looked up from the guidebook she was studying. "It says here that the Union Falls are two hundred and fifty feet high. Imagine the speed the water must get to, traveling from that height."

"Mmm."

"And look at this. Did you know there are three hundred geysers and nearly three hundred waterfalls in the park?"

"No kidding."

She shot Trent a sideways look. "Do you care about what I'm telling you?"

"Sure, I do. I've just got other things on my mind."

"Like who you'll marry?"

He glanced at her. "I've given up on that for the moment. After you went to bed, Jordan came back for his truck. He talked nonstop about his dude ranch ideas. My brother is crazy to think I'd let city slickers come to the ranch."

Gracie put away her book. "I think it's a great idea."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"You told me that you're making the land better than you found it. It makes sense to show people how special it is and to let them experience it for themselves."

"Jordan's been talking to you, hasn't he?"

Gracie squirmed in her seat. "Maybe, but his ideas make sense. The old barn would make a great bunkhouse for visitors. They could help with all types of chores. Jordan could take them on some of the hiking trails and four-wheel-drive routes he's taken me on. They could even help with the cattle round-ups and haymaking."

"It's a lot of outlay for little return."

"It will be in the beginning, but once word gets out about what you're doing, bookings are bound to pick up. But it's more about letting people enjoy the land. Jordan doesn't want the ranch to be like an amusement park. It's a way of helping the land speak for itself and keeping it whole for the next generation." That she wouldn't be part of. Just thinking about a house full of junior Trent McKenzie's was enough to make her heart sink.

Trent looked straight ahead. "At the rate Jordan and I are going, there won't be any future McKenzies. But I get your point."

Getting her point was more than he'd done in the past, so things might be looking up for Jordan's plans. While Trent drove, Gracie opened her guidebook and thought about family trees.

Gracie trudged along the trail behind Trent, sucking oxygen into her gasping lungs. "I thought you said we'd be hiking for four hours?"

"We're nearly back at the truck. Only another twenty minutes to go."

"That's what you said ten minutes ago."

"I lied." He grinned. "Fire me."

Gracie tried for a growl, but the noise coming out her mouth sounded like a scraggy wheeze.

Trent stopped in the middle of the path and took off his backpack. "I need a drink."

She gave him a withering look. "Of course, you do." Dropping her pack to the ground, she collapsed beside it. "I don't think I'll be able to move again."

"I could always give you a piggyback ride to the parking lot."

Gracie turned up her nose at his suggestion. "Do you know how embarrassing it would be if someone saw me clinging to your back like a leech? Thanks, but I don't think so."

"Suit yourself," he shrugged. "It's your legs."

Reaching inside her pack, Gracie grabbed a bar of chocolate. As it melted in her mouth, she looked up at Trent. He was swigging back some water. "You know, cowboy. Apart from being bossy and emotionally deficient, you're a pretty good guy."

A spray of water exploded from his mouth. "What do you mean, _emotionally deficient_?"

Gracie sucked on a piece of chocolate that had stuck to her back teeth. "Well, let's see. You don't want to marry for love, you just want the perks, including, but not limited to, the Triple L and children." Leaning back against her pack, she crossed her ankles in front of her. "I think you're scared to let someone into your heart again. You've emotionally detached yourself from human relationships because you were dealt a lethal blow after your first wife left and you've never recovered." Smiling sweetly at his scowl, she asked, "Want a piece of chocolate?"

Trent moved sideways as a group of tourists walked around them.

Gracie gave them a friendly wave in case they mistook her for a sweaty slug and stepped on her. After they'd gone, she caught a look on Trent's face that wasn't healthy. She stood up real fast.

Her pack bumped against her back as she high-tailed it along the dirt trail. Thirty feet later, Trent still hadn't made an appearance. Looking over her shoulder, she yelled, "Come on. What's taking you so long?"

"I refuse to walk with a woman who thinks _I'm_ emotionally deficient, when she hasn't allowed herself to fall in love with a man. All that tells me, Gracie Donnelly, is that she's worried he'll leave her, just like her father."

She stared back down the trail. Trent didn't move. Even from this distance she could feel how hurt he was. He was looking for a wife, and she'd turned the whole thing into some kind of sideshow. It wasn't as if she was the leading expert on how normal people acted. For most of her life she'd run scared from any kind of relationship and, until now, it had suited her fine.

"I've fallen in love."

"Yeah? Who was he? And anyone under the age of sixteen doesn't count."

Gracie stuck her hands on her hips. "I've forgotten his name, okay?"

"Yeah right. If I'm emotionally deficient, then you're an emotional chicken."

"I'm not a chicken."

"Prove it."

"How? By marrying you? We've already been down that road and it leads to a dead end."

Trent walked toward her. "You could do a lot worse, you know."

Yeah. She did know. She liked living with him. She enjoyed his company and even laughed at the corny jokes he thought were hilarious. And then there was the chemical explosion that left her feeling wobbly whenever they touched. It was just the bit about him not loving her that made marriage the worst thing they could ever do.

Trent stopped in the middle of the path. "What's going through that pretty head of yours?"

She gazed at the heartthrob standing in front of her, wondering how she could have been so thoughtless. "I'm sorry about the emotionally deficient comment."

He took a deep breath, staring at her so intently that she felt as though he was looking into her soul.

Gracie's heart raced, waiting for what he would say next.

Trent reached forward and rubbed his thumb along her cheek. "No chicken feathers here, either."

She let go of the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. A bubble of mischief fizzed inside her body. "I must be the craziest woman in the world to turn down your offer of marital bliss. And I think you really need to reassess your chicken testing technique." Dropping her pack to the ground, she started flapping her arms in the air, chirping like a chicken on steroids.

Trent burst out laughing. He moved toward her, dodging her arms as she spun around in circles. "Come on, chickadee. If you won't marry me, then the least I can do is give you a lift home." He moved his pack to his front and knelt on the ground. "All poultry aboard."

Gracie laughed as she crawled onto his back, hooking her legs around his waist. "As long as you don't want to pluck me, I'm all yours."

Laughter rumbled through his chest. "You'd better watch out, honey. That's the best offer I've had all week."

# Chapter 7

Trent walked into the kitchen. "What do you think about Vegas, Gracie?"

She looked up from the table, a slice of cold roast beef dangling from her fingers. "You mean as in casinos, naked ladies, and lots of glitzy shows? Can you hand me another slice of bread?"

"Here's the bread, and yes to the naked ladies."

"I think I'd only want to take a few dollars into a city like that. Otherwise, I'd be broke within an hour. Do you have any mustard in the pantry?"

"Forget the mustard, I've got a better offer for you. How would you like to come on an all-expenses paid weekend with me to Sin City?"

Her eyebrows shot in the air.

"Get your mind out of the gutter." He grinned. "I've got a conference there this weekend and two tickets burning a hole in my pocket." At her look of disbelief, he walked into his office and came back waving the tickets in the air. "You could shop during the day and see a show with me in the evenings."

Gracie wiped her hands on her T-shirt and reached for the tickets. "How did you get _two_ tickets?"

"The Cattle Raisers Association worked out a deal. If you bought one, you got another for free. The hotel probably thinks the second person will spend up large at the casinos."

She leaned back, chewing on the pickle, beef, and cheese sandwich in her hand.

"You've got two minutes to make up your mind before I phone Jordan. He'll go with me." Trent couldn't believe it was taking her this long to decide whether she'd go to Vegas. Two nights in the city that never slept sounded like a sure-fire winner over a quiet evening on the Triple L. Especially with what he had planned. It was time to shake up Gracie's world—and Vegas was just the place to start.

She sipped her glass of water, staring at him like she was hunting for any ulterior motives behind his offer. He had plenty of those, but he wasn't about to let Gracie in on his plans.

"I'm coming on one condition."

"You only ever came with conditions attached. I'd die a happy man if just once you agreed to something without putting a catch at the end of it."

Gracie dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "I'm not that bad." She smiled at the frown plastered across his face. "I'll come with you if I pay for my flight and half the accommodation."

After living with her for nearly a month, Trent knew she wouldn't go anywhere with him unless it cost her a week's teaching salary. "Fine, whatever you say. I'll find out the cost of the flight, but the accommodation is on me. It would cost me exactly the same if I was going on my own."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'? It's a perfectly fair split of the expenses."

Gracie put her empty glass on top of her plate. "I want my own room. I refuse to share with a man who snores like a beached walrus."

Trent ignored her grin. He'd give in with dignity and then play dirty once they got to Vegas. "Okay, deal. I'll email the hotel today. We leave here at four o'clock on Friday afternoon."

Scooting around the table, Gracie gave him a happy smile. "Sounds like a good excuse for a shopping trip into town. But, for now, I have to find Jordan. He's taking me on one of the trails with Daisy." She stacked her dirty dishes in the dishwasher and headed to the back door. "We should be back by five. Tell Adele I'll cook the vegetables and fold the washing when I get home."

Standing at the kitchen door, Trent watched her skip down the stairs. "Remind Jordan not to go too far into the mountains."

Gracie turned and gave him an exasperated stare. "Yes, Daddy."

Man, she was a cheeky wench. Life had been a whole lot simpler before the Donnelly factor arrived on his doorstep.

He turned toward his office. There'd been another wolf attack on a neighbor's property a few days ago and everyone was on full alert. He didn't want Gracie anywhere near the mountains in case the wolves came back for more cattle.

He stared through the office window, catching sight of her as she walked across the yard. Gracie frustrated the heck out of him, but he enjoyed having her around, enjoyed the chaos she created. She had a way of filling up a space so that all the energy in the room was sucked dry when she wasn't in it. He'd never felt this much attraction for anyone in a long time. Whenever he saw her working outside in her tight jeans, or heaven forbid, the skimpy little blue shorts she favored, he felt like a drooling fool.

The weekend in Las Vegas had come at the right time. He hadn't planned on attending the conference this year, but if a desperate man ever needed a little divine intervention, then it was him. He wasn't sure Hooty and Charles would see themselves as divinities, but as Association President and Treasurer they'd provided him with the perfect excuse to get Gracie alone and naked.

Not that the naked bit was compulsory, of course.

Gracie slid into a chair in Angel Wings Café. She smiled at two women sitting at a table pressed against the front glass window. Gracie had met Jessie and Doris when she'd been out shopping for barn dance decorations with Karen. Doris and her husband owned the biggest hardware store in town. Between the two seventy-if-I'm-a-day women, there wasn't much news that didn't float their way.

"You're a bad influence on me, Karen." Gracie pulled another chair out, dropping some of her shopping on the seat and leaving the rest on the floor.

"I'd say we're just about as bad as each other. Remind me never to wear high heels when I go shopping with you. You'd walk the hind legs off a horse the way you gallop around the stores."

Gracie laughed as Karen slowly lowered herself into a chair. For the last three hours they'd been looking for a dress that Gracie could wear to the conference dinner in Las Vegas. And for shoes, makeup, and another couple of other items that had snuck their way onto her credit card. More than a couple if Gracie counted all the bags under the table, which she wasn't terribly inclined to do.

Tess grinned as she walked toward them. "Someone's been having too much fun."

"Don't look at me," Karen said. "Gracie's the one that made Sandra Lee's day."

"I think I helped Sandra exceed her monthly sales figures. But if I don't have a hot chocolate in the next five minutes, I'll fall down from exhaustion."

Karen smiled at Tess. "Gracie's main problem is that she doesn't know how to pace herself. I tried talking her into having a break earlier, but no, she had to keep pounding the sidewalk looking for the perfect dress."

"Does the perfect dress have enough room for a slice of hot apple pie with whipped cream?" Tess asked.

"That's not fair," Gracie groaned. "You shouldn't tempt me like that. Especially when the dress in question has lots of shimmery sequins that show every little ripple on my hips."

"There are no ripples anywhere," Karen laughed. "Except where it counts. Apple pie and cream sounds divine. I'll have mine with a low-fat cappuccino."

Gracie glanced at Tess. "You'd better make that two apple pies and cream. I still have to find gifts for my class in New Zealand."

"I'll be back in a couple of minutes. I'll even throw an extra sprinkle of chocolate on your drink if I can peek at the dress."

"It's a deal." Gracie watched Tess disappear around the far side of the counter. The café smelled like cinnamon and chocolate, with the tiniest whiff of freshly baked bread thrown into the mix. "I'll put on ten pounds just inhaling the smell of the food in here."

"We'll have to walk fast around the stores if we want to burn off the extra calories. Talking about calories..." Karen's eyes practically watered at the decadent dessert Tess put in front of her. A three-inch high slice of double-crust apple pie, golden and hot, sat on the table. A ball of half-melted cream rested against the pastry shell, curling around the dessert like a sweet river of indulgence.

"And one low-fat cappuccino." Tess laughed at the look on Karen's face. "Yours is coming right up, Gracie."

Karen dipped a fork into the center of her pie. "I've died and gone to heaven."

The doorbell jingled and Gracie glanced across the room. Kristina Green walked in. She stopped in the middle of the room when she saw Gracie.

"Don't stand there looking like a fish out of water." Doris' voice cut through most of the conversation spinning around the room. "Grab yourself a chair and say hello."

Karen smiled at her friend. "Kristina! It's good to see you. How was Idaho?"

A tight smile settled on Kristina's mouth. "It was fine. Alex did well." She stared at the chair Doris had pulled out. "Umm...I really can't stay. I forgot to pick something up for Jim. Have a good day." She disappeared out of the café quicker than she'd arrived.

Karen watched Kristina leave. "That's not like her. I hope everything's all right."

Doris turned back from staring through the window. "From the way she marched down the street, I'd say there's something going on that she doesn't want us to know about."

"Maybe Alex hurt himself again." Jessie chipped in. "The doctors over in Billings gave him merry-hell after the last fall he had. Told him he wasn't to ride any bulls this side of Christmas."

Doris rearranged the periwinkle blue sweater around her shoulders. "When have you ever known those Green boys to do what's best for them? When God created that family, he swiped all the boys with the same brush. Just look at Jacob. He's so busy making gold out of everyone's misfortune that I wonder how he sleeps at night."

"He's not as bad as that." Karen looked across at Gracie. "Jacob is a property developer. He buys ranches and builds large homes and apartment buildings on the subdivided land."

"And half the town don't think much of his career," Doris said. "The half that are holding onto their land by the skin of their teeth."

Karen stirred her coffee. "Maybe Kristina's a little flustered now that Jim's on his way home."

Even to Gracie's ears, her explanation rang hollow. "When is Jim due back?"

"Either late tomorrow night or early the next day. He was still trying to book his flights when I last spoke with Kristina."

"Here you go." Tess left Gracie's apple pie and hot chocolate on the table. "Don't worry about Kristina," she whispered. "Doris and Jessie find something interesting in every little thing that happens around here."

"There's nothing wrong with our hearing either," Doris said. "And you mark my words. If more people took an interest in the workings of this town, we wouldn't be in half the trouble we're in."

Tess rolled her eyes. "I'm sure everything's all right with Kristina and her family, Doris." She turned toward Gracie and winked. "Enjoy the pie. Don't forget to show me your dress before you leave."

Gracie's suitcases had been sitting in her room for the last two days, waiting for her trip to Las Vegas. The new clothes she'd bought in Bozeman took pride of place in her neon pink bags.

"Are you ready to go?" Trent stood in the foyer, hollering up the stairs as if he was rounding up a herd of cattle.

Poking her head over the banister, Gracie yelled back, "I'm on my way. I've just got to check my makeup case."

Throwing a spare mascara into the bottom of her bag, she zipped it up. Even though she had serious misgivings about going anywhere with Trent, she figured it couldn't be much worse than spending the weekend with him on the ranch.

She'd tried everything she could think of to keep her distance. But her misbehaving body kept whispering sweet nothings about a lonesome cowboy that had a hankering for marital bliss. She'd ignored every accidental touch, turned away from the liquid heat in his gaze and tried really hard to stamp down on her wayward thoughts. And so far, it seemed to be working. Almost.

Dividing the evenings between Jordan and Karen had provided the perfect cover at night and the days had looked after themselves. Keeping busy with the cowboys on the Triple L had been easy, until she'd gone fencing with Trent.

There was something altogether tempting when a man took off his shirt to cool down. Way too tempting. Her sore back and legs were nothing compared to the ache coming from other parts of her deprived body.

She hauled three suitcases to the top of the stairs and gave them a gentle nudge toward the bottom. "There you go. Three cases and one carry-on all accounted for. Let's go."

Trent collected the bags at the bottom of the staircase. "Haven't you forgotten a bag? I'm sure you came into the country with four. We'll be gone for a whole two-and-a-half days."

Lifting her nose in the air, Gracie extended the handle on one of the bags. "Actually, I arrived with no luggage apart from my trusty carry-on. And you've got the right number of suitcases in front of you. I'm traveling light."

Trent made a scoffing noise as he lined her suitcases up beside his one overnight bag and suit hangar. "You sure know how to make a man happy."

"Don't talk too soon." Gracie slung her carry-on over her shoulder. "I've got two days of shopping ahead of me."

As the airport shuttle drove down the Strip in Las Vegas, Gracie didn't know which way to look. Resorts loomed on each side of the road, each one more spectacular than the last.

"Did you see the lights on the fountains over there, Trent? Ooh, look at that one." She stared in amazement at the hotels lining the street. Disneyland rubbed shoulders with Paris and the Wild West tried to overshadow a giant Egyptian pyramid.

Trent leaned forward. "This is our stop."

Gracie turned and looked at where he was pointing. Her jaw dropped and she couldn't move an inch. "This can't be where we're staying."

"The Venetian Hotel. Over four thousand guest rooms ready and waiting for action."

Gracie ignored the mischief in his eyes. "Don't get too excited. The only action your room will be seeing, Trent McKenzie, is the sight of a shoe coming through the door if you come anywhere near me."

Hauling himself out of the shuttle, he held out his hand. "Watch your step onto the sidewalk, Gracie. I'd hate that foot to get permanently lodged in your mouth."

Mumbling under her breath, she jumped free of the door. As she turned to grab her carry-on, she nearly fell over backward. Music and light spilled from the hotel. Huge painted murals, framed with thick ropes of gold, decorated the ceiling of the covered entrance.

" _Look at that!_ "

"You're catching flies again." Trent turned to look at the entrance. " _Wow_."

"I saw the making of this hotel on a documentary back home." Gracie didn't know which way to look first. "This is so exciting. It's an exact replica of Venice, right down to the stonework, gondolas, and canals."

Trent pulled her toward the entrance. "Come on, short-stuff. A man is waiting to take in our bags."

The hotel porter navigated with practiced agility through the crowd of people standing in the lobby. Camera flashes lit the room as people focused their lenses on the ceiling. It all seemed a little odd, until Gracie followed the direction of their cameras.

"Look up, Trent. It's the Sistine Chapel." Stretching from the hotel registration desk to the casino entrance, thick gold plaster framed a replica of Michelangelo's angels and saints.

Trent left her staring at the ceiling while he checked them into the hotel. "Are you happy if we drop off our bags, then find somewhere for dinner?" He passed her the key card to her room, laughing at the expression on her face. "Something tells me we won't get much sleep tonight."

"Something tells me you're oh so right," she smiled. "Who needs sleep when a girl can get lost in the streets of Venice?"

Gracie's suite was breathtaking. She stared at all the gadgets and furniture, not quite believing that any hotel would provide this much luxury for their guests. She had her own living room and dining area. A beautiful silk canopy fell either side of the king-size bed. Carved furniture and brocade drapes added more than a touch of glamor to the room she'd call home for the next couple of days.

When she saw the huge sunken bathtub, she thought she'd died and gone to heaven. Lots of little bottles of complimentary lotions and potions were begging to be investigated. She nearly closed the door and ran a bath. If it wasn't for the lure of the Venetian streets waiting to be explored, she could have spent a few hours enjoying the luxury surrounding her.

Grabbing her key card, she closed her door and knocked on the room beside hers. "Are you decent in there?"

The door swung open to reveal a grinning cowboy. "As decent as I'll ever be."

Gracie stepped into an exact replica of her own room, right down to the gift basket of goodies sitting on the table. "What do you think of your room?"

"Pretty fantastic to a cowboy more used to the inside of a log cabin. Have you unpacked your clothes yet?"

Gracie laughed as she watched him unzip his overnight bag. "No, not one dress has made it into the closet. There's plenty of time for that later. I just want to explore the streets of Venice. And Trent?"

He looked up.

"I've been living in your log cabin and you've got nothing to worry about. Your home beats this glamour-puss hands down."

He threw his bag into the bottom of the closet and held her hand. "On that cheery note, let's go paint Venice red, my dear."

After Trent registered for the conference, they explored the hotel. Everywhere they looked people were enjoying the sights and sounds of a temperature controlled Venetian evening. From shorts and T-shirts, to diamonds and fur, all types of tourists were walking along the boulevards and canals, looking at the attractions or looking to be seen.

Leaning over one of the bridges spanning the Grand Canal, Gracie stared into the water. "Look how blue and clear the water is."

Gondolas meandered up and down the waterway. The sound of Italian songs filled the boulevards as gondoliers sang to their passengers. Trent moved closer to Gracie. If she leaned any further over the bridge, she'd tip head first into the water she'd been admiring.

"Have you ever been to Venice, Gracie?"

She looked over her shoulder. "No, but I bet this little slice of Italy is just about as good." She waved to some laughing tourists as they floated toward her. "Let's go for a gondola ride."

"How about food first? I'm starving."

"Okay, but it's my shout. No arguing."

Trent frowned at her. "Shout? You have some of the most confusing ways of speaking, Gracie Donnelly. I take it a 'shout' means you want to pay?"

"The man is positively brilliant. Let's find some food."

They eventually came across the Canaletto, a beautiful Italian restaurant overlooking St. Mark's Square.

After they'd ordered pizza, Trent opened the wine list. "A glass of prosecco for madam?"

"Now look who's talking in riddles."

"Italian champagne. Would you like a glass?"

"Yes, please. How do you know about prosecco?"

Trent nodded at a waiter circling the tables. "I had a four-month vacation in Italy a few years ago." He grinned at her expression. "Even cowboys get to leave the ranch occasionally."

Their pizzas arrived just as a quartet of musicians started playing in the Square. Farther along the canal, a bride and groom were posing for photos.

Gracie smiled. "That's the third bridal couple I've seen since we've been sitting here. Do you think they're trying to tell you something?"

"Like maybe we should get married and live happily-ever-after?"

"Dreams are free, cowboy." Gracie bit into a slice of pizza. "Yum, this is amazing."

Trent sighed. She'd already said she wouldn't marry him. The chance of Gracie changing her mind was almost zero, but he'd bet on worse odds before. He swirled the wine in his glass.

"So what have you been doing to find Ms. Right?"

"Nothing, Ms. Wrong. At this stage, either fate will take a leading hand and throw someone at my feet or I'll have to pay someone to marry me."

Gracie's eyebrows rose. "Well, you've come to the right city. Imagine the possibilities if you'd come alone. You could have brought a blushing bride back to the Triple L and introduced her to the family as Mrs. McKenzie."

"There's still time, honey." The little frown on her forehead told him his comment hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Well, while you're contemplating the next Mrs. Trent McKenzie, I'll look at the dessert menu. The pizza was far too healthy for my first night in Venice."

Trent bit into another slice of pizza. A sugar rush might be what they both needed.

By midnight, Gracie was ready to call it quits. They'd toured the shops of the Grand Canal until their feet were sore. They'd licked sorbet and gelato from sugar cones in the marketplace and enjoyed mugs of hot chocolate in the Tintoretto Bakery.

On their way back to the hotel, she'd bought some beautiful Venetian glass jewelry boxes. Clutching them carefully in her hands, she listened to the music filling the elevator as they made their way to the twenty-first floor. "I've had a great night. What time do you want to meet for breakfast?"

"I've got to be at the conference by eight thirty, so how about we meet at seven? Whoever's ready first can bang on the other person's door."

The elevator doors pinged open and Gracie headed toward her room. "I've got a hot date with the bathtub all lined up, complete with every smelly potion I can find."

Trent gazed at her, a wicked smile slipping across his face. "If you need a hand to wash your back, just holler."

"Don't wait up," she grinned. "I like my baths deep, hot, and on my own."

"Spoilsport."

She opened her door and smiled. "Sweet dreams, Trent. I'll see you at seven." She blew him a kiss as the door shut in his face.

Trent glanced at his watch. Seven o'clock and he'd heard nothing from the room next door. He put his key card in his pocket and knocked on Gracie's door. "Are you ready?"

A muffled voice came from her room. "I'll be ten seconds."

Gracie opened the door with a black towel wrapped tight around her body. "Sorry. I'm not quite ready."

He cleared his throat. His breathing almost stopped as he followed a water droplet dripping down the side of her face, disappearing between her breasts. He jammed his hands in his pockets in case he was tempted to do more than look.

It was just as well Gracie had no idea of the thoughts racing through his brain, and other more obvious places. She'd run a mile if she came close to guessing what he'd like to do with all five-foot-one of her, standing almost naked in front of him.

A family walked down the hallway, staring with open mouths at Gracie.

She pulled him through her door. "Wait here. I won't be long."

He looked around her room, sucking in a few deep breaths. At some stage she'd attempted to unpack. Two empty suitcases were piled on top of a table and the other sat open on the end of her bed. It looked like a squirrel had ransacked its contents, sending clothes flying in all directions.

"Ready."

He glanced up. Gracie had changed into an orange dress with a deep blue sweater thrown over the top. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, the damp ends of her hair making something twist deep in his gut.

"That was quick. I thought I'd be here half the morning waiting for you."

"No way, handsome. Vegas awaits. I've already been to the gym this morning. You should see it; all the latest whiz-bang exercise equipment you could imagine is up there." She ran back to her bed, hunting in her suitcase for something. A pair of sandals appeared in her hand. "I can't wait to explore Las Vegas."

He grinned at her enthusiasm. "Let's have breakfast. It sounds as though you'll need all the energy you can get."

Gracie groaned in pure bliss. She'd booked a massage and full makeover at the Canyon Ranch Spa. At the end of a hot day spent walking from casino to casino, she'd needed the gentle kneading to soothe her tired muscles and re-energize her body.

After the massage, she floated through to another room and sank into a luxurious sofa. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander. This was so much better than feeding animals and digging fence posts. An image of Trent with his shirt off and sweat running between his shoulder blades filled her mind. Fixing fences had major side benefits as long as it wasn't her on the end of a post digger.

Biting her bottom lip, Gracie remembered the way Trent's eyes had crinkled at the corners when she'd thrown his shirt at him. The next time she'd looked into those eyes, she'd seen a heat so raw blazing from their depths that she almost forgot she wasn't the woman Trent needed in his life. And that he wasn't the man for her.

Gracie knew there was only so much muscle a woman could stand before she did something she'd regret. So she'd run. Straight into Daisy, who'd snuck up behind her to munch some grass. Trent had given her a lopsided grin and taken his sweet time clicking the snaps of his shirt together.

She'd learned one very important lesson from her post digging exercise. Trent McKenzie had muscles galore. Muscles that would get her into trouble if she wasn't careful.

After a couple of glasses of ice-cold mineral water, a woman called Gina took her through to the makeup studio. Gracie immediately felt at home among the creams and lotions stacked with an eye to sales around the room. She sat back, ready to enjoy a girly session guaranteed to banish a certain male from her mind.

After an hour of pampering, she looked in the mirror at a different person. You couldn't mistake her for a cowgirl on trainer wheels now. In the blink of an eye she'd graduated to a city slicker knock-out.

At half-past five, Gracie knocked on Trent's door.

"You found your..." His jaw went slack and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Gracie grinned at his stunned expression. "What do you think?"

Trent blinked. "You look amazing."

"Thank you, sir. You look handsome, too." As her eyes traveled the length of his body, she had to swallow her sigh.

A man on the lookout for a bride might get the wrong impression if she started drooling at the sight of a navy blue pin-stripe suit. Gracie smelled his musky aftershave and went weak at the knees. Stepping forward, she touched the lapel of his jacket. "I've never seen you in a suit before. You should wear one more often."

His eyes turned slate gray. Moving a step closer, he lifted his hand to her face, whispering in her ear, "You haven't seen anything yet."

His breath tickled the side of her face, but it wasn't his breath she was worried about. It was the lips running along her jaw, sending hot and needy signals to other parts of her body. And the biggest problem was that she liked those feelings way too much.

Gracie moved her head, trying to stop Trent's lips from doing even more damage to her fragile resolve. As soon as she moved her head, she came face to face with his mouth. A mouth that tempted and teased and left her hungry for more.

She leaned into Trent. She didn't care about the consequences. She'd live for the moment and worry about tomorrow when it came.

She nipped Trent's bottom lip. He groaned, and desire streaked down her spine.

He pulled her inside his room, nudging her against the back of the door. Gracie felt every nerve ending scream in pleasure as he sunk deep into her mouth.

Yanking the bottom of his shirt clear of his trousers, she ran her hands along his ribcage. Hard muscles flexed under the gentle pressure of her fingertips.

"I don't know if I can stop."

"I don't want you to." Leaning back, she slowly undid each button of his shirt, her lips following the path of her fingers.

Heat radiated off Trent's skin and his breath fanned her body in short, raw bursts. He moved his hand down her back, lifting the hem of her dress until she felt his hands gliding over her bottom.

"Don't stop," she panted.

"Hold my shoulders."

Gracie reached up, clinging to his shirt like a lifeline. Trent took a step forward, pressing her into the wall. Pressing his fingers right where they needed to be. Gracie groaned as an orgasm tore through her body. Every time her muscles clenched, Trent rubbed a little deeper, a little different, until she didn't know where one climax finished and another began.

Her arms dropped to his waist. She leaned her head against his chest, trying to remember to breathe. Trying to remember when she'd last felt so loved.

She groaned.

"It's okay," Trent murmured, holding her gently. "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "That was...I mean...you were..."

Trent bent down and caught her lips in a soft kiss.

"...amazing," Gracie sighed. She felt his chest move, caught the chuckle drifting over her head. She felt him relax. Well...parts of him relax. Gracie nudged his bare chest with her nose. Her fingers danced over his hot skin.

He wasn't so relaxed now.

"Your turn," Gracie whispered. She reached for the button at the top of his trousers, nearly ripping it off when it wouldn't budge. Trent pulled back, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He undid the button, and Gracie pushed his trousers down his legs. He stepped out of them, nearly falling flat on his face when they caught the top of his boots.

A wicked gleam lit his eyes. "You nearly had me on my back in two seconds flat."

Two seconds seemed like a good timeline to Gracie. "Promises, promises," she whispered.

A grin spread across Trent's face. Kicking his boots off, he stepped free of his trousers. "I want to see you, Gracie. All of you."

Taking a deep breath, she reached behind her, slowly unzipping her dress. Trent's face tightened. One strap slipped off her shoulder. His pupils dilated to fill his eyes with a desire so deep, so total, that she nearly melted on the spot.

She heard his sharp intake of breath as her dress slithered down her body, landing in a blue sequined puddle on the floor. Lacing her fingers through his, she pulled him across the room.

They landed on his bed in a jumble of arms and legs.

She moved restlessly as he left hot and hungry kisses on her skin, teasing her until she couldn't think beyond the need clawing between them.

Gracie writhed on the bed as she spun out of control. "Now, Trent. I need you inside me."

"I have to..." He reached for his jacket.

She sat up, needing him against her, needing more than she'd ever wanted from anyone. She nipped the side of his neck with her teeth and felt him tremble.

Trent turned toward her, his eyes glowing with desire and something more. Something that made a different kind of heat spiral between them. He caught her mouth in a hungry kiss, melting every bone in her body.

Gracie pulled him on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist, showing him exactly what she wanted. She shuddered as he moved in slow deliberate strokes, teasing her until she was panting for more.

"Now," she whimpered. He surged forward and she bucked under him. They came hard and fast, pushing each other over the edge and into oblivion.

When their heartbeats slowed down, Trent rolled off her, pulling her tight against his side.

"I can't believe we just did that." She gently rubbed her nose across his chest. Trent's skin was slick with sweat, his heart beat fast beneath her cheek.

"Sure beats happy hour in the cocktail lounge."

A horrible thought crossed her mind. Wiggling into a sitting position, she pulled the cotton sheet under her arms. "You do realize that this, this...interlude doesn't mean I'll marry you."

"Ma'am, the way I'm feeling right at this moment, I could stay unmarried to you for the rest of my life if you'd be happy to share my bed."

Gracie frowned. Then huffed. "Well. I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not, but this...thing that happened between us, it can't happen again."

"You might as well tell the wind to stop blowing if you think what happens between us can be flicked off at your bidding. It can't." Trent pulled the sheet, and Gracie landed flat on her back. "And for the record, short-stuff, what happened between us was no summer breeze. It's a full-blown tornado."

He leaned forward and gently caressed her lips. She sighed as her body rippled into life. Her mouth opened and Trent slid in, hot, hungry, and needy.

Gracie groaned as a slither of sanity edged its way into her brain. Lying naked under Trent wasn't how she'd imagined spending her time in Las Vegas. And if she didn't move soon, they'd be spending even more time curled around each other.

She pulled her mouth away, gasping for breath. "I need a shower."

His cheeky grin made her smile.

"In my own room."

"Are you sure? We could try some bubble bath in my tub."

"Nice try." She grinned. "But I'm leaving." Slipping out the side of the bed, she grabbed the duvet and wrapped it around her body.

"You look like a snowman."

Gracie glanced up.

Trent had a goofy smile plastered across his face.

"Don't look too smug, Trent McKenzie. We still have the conference dinner and show to go to. Unless you get out of bed quick smart, we'll be walking in late. And guess what everyone will think?"

"That we've been dicing with danger in the casino?"

"No." Gracie walked toward the door with her clothes in one hand and the extra miles of duvet in the other. "These are ranching folk we're talking about. They'll know exactly what we've been doing."

Gracie put her ear to the door and listened for footsteps. When she was sure no one was around, she poked her head around the doorframe. All she saw was beige-on-beige carpet. No tourists, no housekeepers, and no families waiting to see an almost naked woman streak between rooms. As she rushed out of Trent's room, all she heard was his laughter following her into the hallway.

Heaven help her now.

# Chapter 8

Trent hooked his arm around Gracie's shoulders. After the conference dinner and the Cirque du Soleil show at the Venetian, they'd escaped with three other couples on a tour of Las Vegas.

Halfway through the night, Gracie discovered frozen raspberry margaritas. As they'd moved in and out of the shuttle bus, she'd become less steady on her feet, purring like a pussycat against his body.

The Fountains of Bellagio were the last stop of the night. Everyone had been looking forward to the spectacular water, light, and music show on the lake outside the casino. While they were waiting for the next performance, they walked into the hotel, heading toward the bar.

Trent looked at Gracie. Big blue eyes stared straight back at him. "Are you sure you want to order another margarita? What about an orange juice?"

With a slightly dazed look in her eyes, Gracie reached up and brushed her lips across his neck.

He held back the groan that swept through his body.

"Don't worry. You can tuck me into bed when we get back if you like."

"I don't think it's a good idea to have another margarita."

She trailed a hand along his jaw. "Last one, I promise."

Trent kept a careful eye on what she was doing. He'd never seen her tipsy, and doubted she'd ever drunk this much alcohol in one evening.

When her drink arrived, Gracie sipped it delicately, like a butterfly savoring a glass of nectar. Nectar with a healthy punch that would leave her with a massive hangover the next morning.

When everyone started moving into the hotel entrance, he grabbed the half-full glass out of her hands and left it on a table.

Gracie headed across to the lake, taking an unnatural interest in the water. He held her waist firmly beneath his hand. Her little blue dress didn't stand a chance against the shimmering fountain and skinny dipping wasn't on tonight's list of attractions.

Ted Davidson, a cattle rancher from Ohio, stood beside them. "What do you two lovebirds have planned for the rest of the evening?"

Gracie turned to Ted and in a matter-of-fact voice said, "We're getting married."

The hiccup at the end was a dead giveaway to her level of intoxication. Either Ted didn't hear it or he didn't think such a sweet-looking woman could get plastered on four margaritas.

Trent coughed into his hand as he stared at Gracie's innocent expression. If you didn't know her too well, you'd think she was stone cold sober and working on all six cylinders.

Before Trent could stop him, Ted yelled across to his wife, "Did you hear that, Marianne. Gracie's getting married."

A squeal of delight erupted from somewhere behind him.

"What's that you said? Married?"

Marianne, a woman in her early sixties with enough diamonds dripping from her neck to keep his ranch afloat for a decade, walked across to Gracie and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"That's so romantic, darlin'. And here I was, thinking you and your man were only here for a bit of romancing under the Nevada stars."

The rest of the conference group gathered around them like honeybees to a hive. Gracie swayed slightly on her feet, accepting all the congratulations like a seasoned pro. Trent tried telling everyone it wasn't going to happen, but no one seemed remotely interested in listening to him.

"When are you getting married?" Marianne asked in a hushed whisper.

Gracie gazed up at him. With an alcoholic grin painted across her face, she told them, "As soon as we find Elvis' chapel."

Trent nearly burst out laughing. He didn't know she'd found out about the Elvis weddings, but the stories had stuck in her brain.

As if reading his mind, Gracie turned in his arms. "Gina told me." And in an almost wistful voice she added, "Gina with the long legs."

He didn't care who Gina was or how long her legs were. He needed to get Gracie out of here before they ended up married. "Let's go, Gracie. It's time to call it a night." He pulled her hand, then yanked harder when all five-foot-one inches of her slightly sloshed body refused to move.

"I want to get married." Her bottom lip quivered and he could have sworn real tears shone in her eyes. Or maybe it was the alcohol. "You promised, Trent. And cowboys never go back on their promises. That's what Gina told me."

He wondered what else Gina had been saying.

"Aw shucks, little lady," Ted bellowed. "Don't go getting all teary-eyed on us."

Marianne stepped forward with a tissue clutched in her hand. "It's all right. Tell Marianne what's worrying you."

Trent nearly hauled Gracie over his shoulder. He didn't know what pearls of wisdom would come out of her mouth. "Come on, Gracie. I'll take you back to our hotel."

"What about your wedding?" Marianne's voice carried across the still night air. Every head seemed to turn in their direction.

Trent gazed across the lake, trying to think fast before he ended up married to a slightly drunk bride. He wanted to marry Gracie, but she didn't want to marry him. She'd strangle him in the morning if they got within three feet of a wedding chapel.

He could see one of those intersections on life's highway coming up. If he didn't take the opportunity that had presented itself in a swirl of alcohol and sequins the ranch could end up serving beef and biscuits to suit clad executives. If he went along with tipsy Gracie and hunted out a chapel, his ranch would be safe and he'd have a wife. And maybe a family, if parts of him lived long enough to repeat what had happened earlier in the night.

Trent looked around. Gracie had moved toward the fountain, sitting close to the water's edge. He dodged a few tourists, trying to reach her before she ended up waist deep in the water. He could hear Gracie discussing her wedding dress with Marianne.

What was a man to do?

Ted took matters into his own hands. He rounded up the group who'd traveled together in the shuttle. In a booming voice he said, "Now listen up, folks. We're getting this lovely lady married tonight, even if it kills us."

Ted didn't know how close he might get to death once Gracie was working at full throttle again.

"Trent, I take it you want to marry this little lady?"

Now was his chance. Tell the truth or lie like his ranch depended on it. He made his choice.

"I do." Heaven help him. He'd never been a religious person, but he had a strong urge to pray for deliverance. A five-foot-one redhead was going to make his life a living hell.

"Then let's get this show on the road." Ted looked at him. "Do you have a license?"

He cleared his throat. "Ah. No."

"Don't worry. I came here for my brother Frank's wedding last year. I know exactly what to do. All aboard the shuttle, folks. Next stop is the Regional Justice Center. If luck's on our side, we'll get there before they close."

Trent clutched his marriage license in his sweaty hand. All it had taken was fifty-five dollars and thirty minutes. The shuttle driver was now speeding toward a chapel of love.

Gracie wasn't saying much and moving even less.

The other ladies were more than making up for Gracie's lack of enthusiasm. They fussed over her hair, checked her lipstick and reminisced about their own wedding days.

Gracie smiled and nodded at everything going on around her. If anyone noticed her slightly glazed expression, they didn't comment.

Ted kept slapping him on the back.

Trent felt slightly queasy. He'd never done anything this underhand in his life, but his ranch depended on him. There was nothing more important in his life than his land. But man-oh-man, Gracie would kill him once she found out what he'd done.

They pulled up at a drive-through chapel where Elvis was on checkout.

"Damn. If this isn't the most romantic wedding I've ever been to." Ted wiped a tear from his eye.

After a few hasty "I do's" and a couple of signatures, Elvis had done the deed and Trent had a wife. He should have felt relieved. He didn't. He felt sick.

Gracie didn't look much better.

The only thing he knew for certain was that he wasn't looking forward to telling the bride they were married.

Gracie groaned as a blast of sunlight seared the back of her eyeballs. She tried to turn her head to move from the inferno. But as soon as the thought hit her brain, her head felt like exploding and her stomach heaved.

She fell out of bed and crawled to the Italian marble bathroom, gripping the toilet bowl with what little strength she had left. She'd never felt this sick in her life. She remembered drinking a couple of margaritas, but they wouldn't have left her feeling this bad. She must have picked up a horrible virus.

As another wave of nausea hit, Gracie gave up on being brave and started crying. She had no idea why she was so upset. It must be the virus, making her an emotional wreck. She couldn't remember much of last night. She had a vague recollection of the conference dinner and the Cirque du Soleil performance at the hotel. If she tried really hard, she remembered some pretty music, flashy lights, and water. Lots of water shooting everywhere. And Elvis. She felt her head for a temperature.

Had she been hallucinating?

And where was Trent? He must be sick. Otherwise, he'd be here with a cold washcloth and words of comfort. They'd slept together last night. That must count for something when she felt like her head had been ripped off and stuffed on backward?

Gracie pushed away from the toilet and rested her face on the cold floor tiles. She waited there while her head was spinning and her stomach heaving. It vaguely crossed her mind that the floor of a hotel bathroom wasn't the most hygienic place to put her face, even if it happened to be the Venetian. But she was beyond caring.

"Are you all right?"

Her eyelids blinked. She stared at the toilet rolls stacked in a fancy wire basket under the wall-hung vanity.

"Gracie?"

The voice got closer. She blinked again.

Trent crouched on the ground beside her, feeling her pulse and checking her body. "Can you hear me? Are you bleeding? Do I need to call a doctor?"

It was too much. She winced as his voice boomed off the tiles. "Trent?"

"Can you move? Are you hurt anywhere?"

More questions. Too many questions all at once. "My head hurts and I want to be sick."

"Do you want me to lift you back into bed?"

"No. I need to be close to the toilet." Gracie took a deep breath, hoping some part of her body was filtering all the bugs on the floor. She tried to pull herself together. "What's wrong with me?"

"It's called a hangover."

"Hangover? But I only had two drinks all night."

"No. Four."

"Four?" she groaned.

"Umm. And there's one more thing." Trent cleared his throat and moved toward the toilet rolls. "The thing is, last night, while we were taking in the sights of Vegas...well...we got married."

Gracie froze. Her brain tried to compute what he'd said. Married? She pulled herself onto her elbows and waited for the room to stop spinning. "Who got married?"

"We did."

"Us?"

"Yep."

Gracie stared at him. She needed pain relief and she needed water. She dropped her head back to the cold tiles. "Ha, ha. I so _don't_ believe you." He had a sick sense of humor if he thought that was funny.

"It's true. You're my wife."

"Go away. I'm not in the mood for your jokes." Wiping dribble off the side of her face, she rolled onto her side. "Just leave some pain relief and a glass of water by my bed. I'll be okay."

By lunchtime, Gracie's head had stopped pounding enough to enjoy a cheesy pasta dish in St. Marks' Square. Before Trent left for the conference, she'd drunk a gallon of water and swallowed enough painkillers to tranquilize a horse. He'd ordered room service and she'd tried to eat a piece of toast. It hadn't gone down well. The fruit juice had felt better, so she'd stuck with that and planned her day.

Going for a slow walk around the Venetian had seemed like a sensible thing to do. It was about time she did something sensible. Four margaritas had to be the most insensible thing she'd ever done.

Reaching for her sunglasses, she gently pushed them onto her nose. If she didn't move too quickly, she could almost pretend she was normal.

As she gazed at the tourists shuffling along the street, a lady with bouncy gray hair came hurtling toward her. She vaguely recalled seeing her last night at the dinner, then on a bus tour of Las Vegas. Margaret? Marion? Definitely not Margarita.

"Gracie, darlin'. How are you?"

She gave the woman a polite smile. She must have seen Gracie's fall into an alcoholic stupor and was concerned about how she felt. Parts of last night were slowly coming back, but most of it was still a big black ball of fuzz. She only hoped she hadn't done anything too embarrassing.

"I'm much better. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, but I'll be fine in another hour or two."

The lady beamed a megawatt smile down at her.

"Did you enjoy last night?" Gracie asked, not sure whether she really wanted to know.

"It was the most romantic thing I've seen in a long time."

Gracie thought she must be referring to the Fountains of Bellagio. That was one tour stop she remembered. Even to a woman who was tipsy, the fountains were definitely something she wouldn't forget in a hurry. "I agree. The lights, the music, and the water were incredible."

"No, darlin'. I meant your wedding. It was so romantic. Ted and I would have done the same thing if we were your age." In a whisper she added, "You keep that man of yours happy. Lots of good lovin' and good food is the secret to a long marriage."

Gracie hadn't moved a muscle after the word _wedding._

She was married?

_Married_?

The lady looked at her watch. "I must dash. I'm catching up with Ted for lunch. It was a pleasure meeting you little darlin'." With a wave of her hand, she disappeared into a crowd of tourists.

Trent was in trouble, big time. No, more than that. Trouble so big, he'd be lucky if she got on the flight back to Montana with him. She thought he'd been joking when he'd told her they were married. Yeah, right. The man was certifiably insane to think she'd happily go along with his harebrained scheme. Gracie Donnelly was no one's doormat.

The slimy, unscrupulous, devious toad had just blown any friendship with her. She wouldn't stay Mrs. Trent McKenzie for long. If a woman could get married in Vegas, then she could get divorced just as quick.

Gracie sat and fumed for another ten minutes, carefully planning her exit strategy from Trent's life.

"Would madam like something else?"

Gracie looked at the waiter standing beside her. "How about a divorce? Can you order that to go?" She had to give him credit. He wasn't fazed in the least by the petite redhead asking him a crazy question.

"No madam, you'll have to visit a lawyer for that. There's plenty along the Strip." He grinned. "Good luck."

Gracie grabbed her handbag, added a healthy tip to her bill and headed toward the nearest exit. Thanks to a demented fool of a cowboy, she was now shopping for a divorce.

Trent paced back and forth along the hallway. There was still no sign of Gracie. In half an hour, their shuttle was leaving for the airport and he hadn't seen her since breakfast. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to figure out where she might have gone.

She was probably shopping up a storm in one of the boutiques. Or maybe she was watching another show before they left. Or maybe she wasn't answering her door on purpose. He banged again, loudly, just in case she had the television on full volume.

"Trent, how are you?" Marianne Davidson walked toward him with a pile of shopping bags clutched in her hands.

Trent tipped his hat in her direction. "Ma'am. Nice to see you again."

"I saw your lovely wife at lunchtime. Such a nice person. I told her how much we enjoyed your wedding. Ted hasn't stopped talking about it."

Trent stared at Marianne. Oh, boy. When he'd left Gracie this morning, she still didn't believe they were married. She'd definitely know they were husband and wife now. "Gracie hasn't come back from shopping and we need to leave soon. Can you tell me where you last saw her?"

A frown creased Marianne's brow. "I hope she's all right, Trent. Now let's see. I went to the shark reef just after I left her. So that must mean I was in the Mandalay Bay Resort."

"Thanks. I'll phone the hotel to see if they can page her."

Marianne wished him well and disappeared into a room down the hallway.

The elevator pinged open as Trent slotted his key card into his door. Out stepped Gracie. She looked hot and disheveled, with a mutinous scowl in her eyes that didn't bode well for him. But at least she was alive. "Thank goodness you're back. I've been worried."

"I don't know why, Trent McKenzie. You weren't worried last night when you signed my life away on that tiny little marriage license." She reached inside her bag and waved a piece of paper in the air. "This license is worth zip, Mr. McKenzie."

"Gracie, look..." He reached out to calm her down.

"Don't you dare touch me. I've spent the last three and a half hours trying to find some way out of this marriage. All I've got for my troubles are sore feet, another headache, and a bad temper. I'm going to have a quick shower and get my bags ready for the shuttle. If I never speak to you again, it will be too soon."

Gracie stormed past him in a flurry of cotton and anger. She didn't wait for the door to close softly in her wake. Giving it a good shove with her arms, she slammed it loudly against the frame.

Trent stared at the closed door. He was in trouble now.

Gracie flicked through a magazine for the third time. Not because it happened to be particularly good, but because it saved her from having to talk to the crazy man sitting beside her. The plane trip back to Bozeman had been uneventful, unlike the hostile shuttle ride to the airport. She'd nearly thrown her carry-on at Trent's head as he'd been ever so pleasant at making sure she was ready for their flight.

As soon as she returned to Bozeman, she'd book into a hotel. She wasn't going anywhere near the Triple L. Trent might have married her, but she wouldn't spend another night under the roof of her husband. He was on his own.

Gracie threw the magazine down in disgust. Reading about the latest celebrity marriage to hit the skids was so unfair. She'd give anything for her marriage to be null and void.

"At least let me tell you how it happened." Trent touched the top of her shoulder.

She pulled her arm away. "I'm not discussing anything with you. And I know how it happened. The lady in the chapel showed me the recording." And that had just about left her in tears. She'd looked so happy, grinning like a fool as Elvis serenaded the newly married couple.

"Please. Just listen to me."

Clamping her lips tight, Gracie refused to even look at him. She thought about sticking her hands in her ears. It seemed childish, but marrying someone when they were drunk didn't exactly reek of mature behavior either.

"You told Marianne you were going to marry me. I tried to tell her and Ted we weren't getting married."

She sent him an evil glare.

"Okay. I didn't try too hard," he admitted. "But you were talking about wedding dresses and flowers and things, so I thought, why not? Why not marry Gracie? So I did. I mean, we did. Get married, that is. With Elvis. At the drive-through."

She kept quiet. She remembered Elvis, she remembered signing her marriage license, and she remembered feeling like the luckiest woman alive. Damn.

"I like you a lot. There's no one else I'd sooner marry."

Gracie balled her hands into tight fists. 'Like' didn't even come close to how a man was supposed to feel about his wife. 'Like' wasn't how she wanted her husband to feel about her.

"You had four choices," she hissed. "And I wasn't one of them."

"I didn't want any of them."

"I'm not staying married to you."

Trent sat back and closed his eyes. "Fine," he sighed. "I'll file for a divorce when we get home and you'll never hear from me again."

Folding her arms across her chest, Gracie glared at her soon to be ex-husband. "We wouldn't be in this mess if you weren't so pig-headed about having children. Why would you throw your life away with a woman you didn't love?"

"Why did you start searching for your father?"

"That's got nothing to do with getting married," she huffed. "And anyway, you know why."

"Spell it out again. If I'm the simpleton you think I am, I should have forgotten what you told me."

Gracie speared him with a look sharp enough to slice him in two. "I want to know who my father is, where I belong."

Trent frowned at her. "That's the easy answer. Why keep looking for a father who might want nothing to do with you?"

"You can be a real bastard sometimes," Gracie growled.

"Not in this lifetime. My parents were married when they had me."

Gracie froze.

Trent's gaze shot to her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it came out."

She looked through the window, closing her eyes against the bright glare of the sun. She wanted to disappear, pretend that the last couple of days hadn't happened. Pretend that she'd never started searching for someone that didn't want to be found.

Trent's hand brushed her arm. "Gracie?"

She opened her eyes and focused on the seat in front of her. A heavy sadness settled inside her chest. "You're surrounded by a family who loves you. Three generations of McKenzies have put down roots so deep that a tornado couldn't loosen their grip on your land."

Gracie frowned at the shuttered look on Trent's face. "I've got a hole in my heart that I can't fill. Sometimes I get a pain in my chest, and it hurts so bad that I can't imagine a time when it will ever go away." She closed her eyes, trapping her grief behind her lids. "I need to know who my father is, why he never contacted me. I've traveled halfway around the world to fill that hole with something that might take the ache away."

"I guess we're not so very different after all."

Gracie looked up. "If we're both looking for the same thing, then why are we making such a mess of our lives?"

"Maybe we're trying too hard," he sighed.

Gracie's gaze dropped to his mouth. The same mouth that had set her blood on fire, coaxing her body into a tight bundle of need. She didn't want to remember the tender way he'd held her or the possessive way his eyes had roamed over her body. She didn't want to remember feeling as though he was the most amazing man she'd ever met. Or that she was loved.

But she did remember.

Trent's jaw clenched tight, flexing under the strain of emotions that were as complicated as hers. "The ranch is the most important thing to me. I've given everything I have to make the Triple L somewhere that future generations will be proud to call home. It's in my blood." He gazed over the heads of the people sitting in front of him. "I need a family to pass the ranch on to. I want my children to love the land as much as I do."

"Life doesn't come with guarantees. Even if you do find someone to marry..." Trent raised his eyebrows. Gracie poked her nose in the air. "...that isn't me...your children might not want to spend their lives on the ranch."

"I'd better aim for a dozen children then, hadn't I?"

The grin on his face nearly undid what was left of her anger. Not that there was much left, anyway. She needed time to think and having his body pressed against hers wasn't helping.

Trent looked at her hands, clenched tightly in her lap. "You haven't found your father yet. If you stay married to me, you can live in Montana for as long as it takes to track him down. You can be my wife in name only. No one needs to know our marriage isn't for real."

Chewing her bottom lip, Gracie squinted at the man beside her. "That's a low down devious way to get me to stay married to you."

Trent wiped his hands along his jeans. "It's not devious. I'm desperate."

"You won't get the dozen children you've planned." She frowned at the gleam in his eyes. "You won't even get one because I won't be having sex with you again."

Heads turned in her direction. Gracie sank low into her seat, scowling at Trent's laughing face.

He leaned toward her. "I'd settle for Mom not introducing me to every single woman in Montana."

His breath tickled the side of Gracie's face and she could have sworn his lips brushed her hair. She ignored the shiver running down her spine and the tingling going on in other parts of her body. They were chemical reactions to forced proximity, that's all. Just like yesterday. Gigantic, raw, chemical reactions that had blown her socks off and left her panting for more.

"What about your mom and Jordan?"

"What do you mean?"

"If we carry on with our bogus marriage...and get that hopeful look off your face, Trent McKenzie. I only said if. _If_ we stay married for the next few months, they'll think it's for real."

"I hope so. Otherwise, it defeats the whole purpose of getting married."

"But it will only be until I find my father."

Trent sat back in his seat. "If that's what you want."

"Of course, it's what I want," Gracie muttered. "I wanted to spend eight weeks in Montana, not my whole life. As soon as we arrive in Bozeman, you have to get the paperwork ready for our divorce."

"You don't believe in wasting time, do you?"

"I'm not the only one," she growled. "And if we do stay married there will be some ground rules."

Trent frowned. "When isn't there?"

She ignored his comment. "There'll be no more touchy-feely business. I'll hold your hand in public and look like an adoring wife, but it stops at the bedroom door."

"Fine," he said. "Next rule."

Gracie glared at him. "Are you laughing at me by any chance?"

"Not at the moment."

She sighed. Even under extreme pressure the man was hopeless. "Okay, rule two. If either of us forgets rule one, then the other person has to back off real fast."

Trent glanced at her. "What if we both forget rule one at the same time?"

Heat shot through her body, sending a tidal wave of color from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "It's not going to happen." Heaven help both of them if it did. "One of us has to back away or the deal is off."

"Should we toss a coin at the time, or do paper-scissors-rock?" A grin replaced his worried frown.

"This is a serious discussion. Not some frivolous chit-chat about the latest stock yields. This is my life we're talking about."

Trent held her hand. All the humor disappeared out of his face, replaced by something so tender that Gracie had to look away. "I take your life very seriously. And I understand how important it is for you to find your father." He pushed a stray lock of hair over her ear. "If you'll have me, Gracie McKenzie, you've got yourself a deal."

Trent lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of her fingers. Prickles of heat traveled up her arm and straight into her heart. She should have felt happy that she could stay in Montana for as long as it took to find her father. That she had time to search the whole of America for him. That Trent had only married her to give him some breathing space from his mom. But disappointment filled her heart.

"There's a third rule, Trent," she said softly.

"There is?"

Gracie nodded. "Either one of us can pull out of this marriage at any time. I need to be back in New Zealand in four weeks for my friend's wedding. Before I leave, I want our divorce papers signed, just in case I decide not to come back."

His face turned gray. "You'd leave without telling me you weren't coming back?"

"Considering you married me when I was drunk, I'd say that would just about make us even."

"I didn't ask. You told everyone we were getting married."

"Do you want to stay married to me or not?" Gracie snapped. A dozen heads turned in their direction. She felt like they'd become onboard entertainment for the economy class.

Trent glared at her. "Yes, I want to stay married to you. But your walkout clause works both ways."

Gracie sucked in a deep breath. She felt like swatting him over the head with her magazine. "Fine. Welcome to your new life."

# Chapter 9

They arrived home to the smell of beef casserole simmering in the slow cooker and a note from Adele hoping they'd had a good time.

Gracie snorted. Getting married probably ranked as a good time in someone's life, but not hers.

Trent carried her bags up the stairs, hesitating at the door to her bedroom. "Where do you want to sleep?"

The blood drained from Gracie's face. She hadn't thought about their sleeping arrangements. Adele would know something fishy was up if they came back from Las Vegas as husband and wife, but kept sleeping in separate rooms. The no touching rule looked shaky already.

"How big a bed do you have?"

A smile caught the edge of Trent's mouth. "How big do you need?"

She sat down on the top stair as a wave of heat rushed through her body.

Trent put her bags on the floor and sat beside her. "Have I ever told you how much I enjoy having you around?"

"Don't speak too soon. I'm here for a few more weeks yet."

He leaned sideways and kissed her cheek. "My bed is huge, but if you want to sleep in your room, that's okay."

"I'd forgotten about Adele. If everyone in Montana has to believe this marriage is for real, then I guess I'd better bunk in with you. But don't get any ideas about a repeat performance of Las Vegas. It won't happen."

"Yes, ma'am." He grinned as he moved down the hall with her bags.

Gracie watched his back disappear into their room. All she had to do was remember that they were in this marriage for reasons that had nothing to do with love and commitment. And the sooner she found her father, the sooner they could get unmarried and live happily-ever-after.

"How was Vegas?" Jordan sniffed the air appreciatively as he swaggered into the kitchen.

Gracie's fork dropped against the side of her plate.

Trent reached for a glass of water. He cleared his throat, looking across at his brother. He didn't have any idea how Jordan would take the news of their wedding. And he hadn't thought about how he'd tell his mom. If he was totally honest with himself, there hadn't been much thinking going on at all in his pea-sized brain.

Jordan filled a plate with mashed potatoes and beef casserole. "Come on, Trent. It was a simple question. Did you see any of the shows?" His brother sat at the table, reaching for the salad.

"We saw the Cirque du Soleil on Saturday night." About an hour and a half before he'd married his wife. Trent rubbed his hand along his jaw and braced himself for his brother's reaction. "Gracie and I got married in Vegas."

Jordan dropped the salad servers. He looked at Gracie and frowned. "Where's your ring?"

Trent looked down at her left hand. Damn. Gracie gripped her knife and fork as if she was getting ready to use them as weapons. She stared at him with what most people would call a loving expression. He wasn't fooled.

"Trent's taking me shopping tomorrow, aren't you darling? I couldn't find anything I liked in Las Vegas."

The twinkle in her eye made his credit card sink deeper into his wallet. He had a feeling the ring wouldn't be cheap.

Jordan's gaze bounced between Gracie and Trent. "You mean it's for real? You're not joking?"

Trent looked at his little brother. He didn't seem upset, just confused. "No joke. This is for real."

"Have you told Mom?"

"Not yet." Trent picked up his fork and tried to eat some casserole. It stuck in his throat.

Jordan pulled out his cell phone, hitting speed dial.

"What are you doing?" Trent grabbed for the phone, knowing exactly what his brother was doing. He wasn't ready to talk to his mom and, from the way Gracie was staring at them, neither was she.

Jordan leaped away from the table, diving out of reach. "Hi, Mom. Guess what? Trent and Gracie got married in Vegas." He pulled the phone away from his ear and laughed. "What did you say, Mom? Okay, I'll tell them."

"She's on her way over. Man, you two have some serious explaining to do. Goodness, me. Look at the time. I hate to be a party-pooper, but I have to leave." Jordan picked up his plate of food and headed toward the door. "See you in the morning, folks." He gave Gracie a wink and hot-footed it out of the room.

Gracie pushed the food around her plate. "Two down, one to go," she muttered.

"Two?"

"Mrs. Davies knows."

Trent's chair nearly fell backward. "She was here?"

Gracie shook her head. "While you were having a shower, she called to see if I enjoyed Las Vegas. I told her we got married. It was probably better than her starting work in the morning and seeing me walk out of your room."

He looked at Gracie, not quite trusting the grin on her face. What had he gotten himself into?

"Cheer up, Trent. It could be worse. You might have married Jo-Jo. Then where would you be?"

"Not sitting here waiting for my mother to ask me why she wasn't invited to the wedding," he grumbled.

Karen made a record dash over to the Triple L.

Trent only had time to turn on the dishwasher before his mom burst through the back door.

Gracie had her feet up on the couch, reading a book in the living room.

"Trent McKenzie. Did Jordan tell me the truth? Are you and Gracie married?"

"Yes, Mom. We got married last night."

"Why didn't you tell me you planned on getting married in Las Vegas? I would have organized a little welcome home celebration."

As if he really needed a houseful of wedding guests to make his life complete. "It came out of the blue." Preceded by the best sex of his life and four frozen raspberry margaritas, but his mom didn't need to know about that.

"Where's Gracie?" she asked.

"Here I am."

Karen gave her a big hug. "Welcome to the family. I knew Trent had fallen for you. Every time he looked at you at the barn dance, he had a love-struck expression on his face. Just like his daddy used to look at me."

Trent sincerely doubted his dad had ever looked at his mom's dress riding higher and higher on her hips. Or watched her dance with so many partners that he'd gone dizzy trying to keep up with who she was with.

Gracie walked toward the kitchen. "Adele left some cake for us, Karen. Would you like a piece?"

"That would be lovely."

While Gracie made hot drinks and organized the cake, Trent shooed his mom into the living room. He found himself on the receiving end of one of her no-nonsense stares.

In a low voice, she whispered, "I hope, Trent McKenzie, you have honorable intentions and haven't married Gracie for the wrong reasons."

He took a deep breath, crossing his fingers behind his back. "Of course not."

His mom gave him a suspicious stare.

"Coffee's ready." Gracie walked in with three steaming mugs and a huge plate of cake balanced on a tray.

Trent sank into one of the big armchairs. It would take more than a slice of cake to make him feel comfortable stretching the truth tonight. He just hoped his mom didn't intend staying too long. And heaven help them all if she wanted to see some photos of the wedding.

Gracie seemed to be taking their fake marriage in her stride. She positively glowed as she told his mom about their trip to Vegas and the drive-through Elvis that officiated at their wedding. If he hadn't been present when she'd called him all the low-life names she could dredge up, he would have been fooled by her tales. You'd think she'd spent a romantic weekend away exploring the delights of her new husband by the smile on her face. But he knew better.

Gracie McKenzie was up to no good, and whatever devious plan she was hatching was bound to be bad for his health.

"That went well, Trent."

"You think?"

"Of course, I do. Your mom seems happy with the half-truths we spouted. It's a wonder your nose hasn't started growing with the number of fibs you told."

"I didn't see you running away when I put my arm around you."

Gracie glared at his back as he took their empty cups out to the kitchen. "I'm only here for another four weeks, then I get a reprieve from staring at your handsome face every day."

He glanced over his shoulder. "It's just as well I knew you were smiling when you said that. Does this mean we're _not_ shopping for a wedding ring tomorrow?"

"Wishful thinking. If we're doing this properly, a ring is essential. Don't worry, I don't have expensive taste."

"There's no such thing as a woman with cheap taste," Trent scoffed.

He disappeared into the kitchen and Gracie sighed. It hadn't felt the least bit satisfying lying to Karen, let alone lying to herself. Pretending Trent was the sun, moon, and stars all wrapped up in one amazing package hadn't been hard. Because if she was really honest with herself, he was amazing. Totally drop-dead-in-your-face amazing. And _so_ not the person she needed in her life.

"I bought something for you in Las Vegas."

Gracie looked at the bag dangling from his fingers. He gave it a wiggle when she didn't reach for it. Whatever was in there must be important. She'd never seen Trent so excited about a shopping bag. Especially a little blue one. With white handles and a logo she couldn't quite read.

"Take it. And before you ask—no, it's not a T-shirt."

She reached for the bag before he dropped it in her lap. The words, 'Tiffany & Co.' blazed back at her. She stared at Trent.

"Open it, woman."

Gracie looked inside the bag and pulled out a blue box tied with a white ribbon. She ran her fingers along the satin, not sure whether opening it would be a good idea.

"Sometime in the next few minutes would be okay."

"I don't know, Trent. The box alone probably cost more than most of the jewelry in my room."

"I didn't buy what's in there to compete with your other things." He sat beside her. In a soft voice that melted her heart, he whispered, "Open it, Gracie."

She untied the bow and lifted the lid. The most spectacular opal pendant glowed inside the box. Red, blue, and green swirls of color streaked across the surface of the gemstone. It looked like little pieces of the solar system had been gathered together and placed inside the pendant.

Trent moved closer. "The colors remind me of the rainbow we saw over Union Falls in Yellowstone."

"It's beautiful, but I can't accept it. It's too expensive."

"Nonsense. I bought it on the first day of the conference. As soon as I saw it I knew it was meant for you." He ran a fingertip along Gracie's clenched jaw. "I can't return it, so you might as well accept it."

She gazed down at the pendant, then back at Trent. A line of fire ran along her skin where his finger had touched her face. She didn't want to feel the rush of warmth filling her heart to overflowing. Or the shiver of need that teased her body.

Trent lifted the opal out of the box, locking the clasp into place at the back of her neck. "All done," he said softly. "Now turn around so I can see what it looks like."

Gracie swiveled in her seat, reaching up to touch the gemstone sitting above her heart. Trent's gaze dropped to the pendant. She swallowed when she saw the longing on his face. He was a good man. She didn't want to hurt him, didn't want to be the one to leave, but eventually she'd have to. She couldn't stay with him and give him what he so desperately wanted. Not without love.

"What are we going to do?" she sighed. "I have to teach in Bozeman in two weeks and then I'm going home for my friend's wedding. What will we tell your family when I leave?"

Trent didn't say anything for a few minutes. He turned back to the table, staring at the half-eaten plate of cake. "We'll tell them you're coming back to Montana after your friend's wedding." He looked up, staring into Gracie's eyes. "Until then you can return your rental and use the Nissan to commute into Bozeman. If you decide not to come back from New Zealand, I'll tell everyone that ranch life wasn't for you. It won't be the first time it's happened."

Gracie took a deep breath. Thinking about how his family would take the news of her departure made her feel miserable.

Trent pushed himself off the sofa. "It's been a long day and we're both tired. Come to bed. We can work something out in the morning."

She looked at the hand reaching out to help her to her feet. Maybe a good night's sleep would help put everything into perspective. But the thought of going to bed with Trent didn't exactly send her into a slumberous mode. "You sound like an old married man already. Just remember the rules. No touching."

A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, ma'am. I wouldn't dream of breaking the rules."

Gracie didn't like the look of that grin. Keeping to the rules didn't seem to be one of Trent's strong points. And if the gleam in his eyes was anything to go by, he didn't really care.

"What on earth are you wearing?"

Gracie looked down at her pink pussycat pajamas. She thought she'd play it safe on their first night together, just to make sure both of them remembered their sleeping rules. Flannel pajamas buttoned to the neck, complete with thick, green socks seemed a sensible option for a girl whose hormones had a mind of their own. "Did you think I'd be wearing a sexy French negligee?"

"If I had to guess what you'd be wearing, I wouldn't have chosen pink pajamas with cats on them." A hopeful note crept into his voice. "Do you have some whiskers and a pair of pointy ears in your closet as well?"

"Wrong dream, cowboy. That one has a black leather cat-suit and a whip."

"Darn, disappointed again. You'll have to move out of the children's section, Gracie. Otherwise, I might have to ban flannel from the bedroom."

"Ban away and see how far it gets you." Disappearing out the door, she came back carrying six pillows. She threw them at Trent and crawled into bed.

"Is this when you start building the Great Wall of China?"

"If it worked for the Chinese Empire, it's good enough for me." She rearranged the pillows until they were stacked in a straight line, two high and three long. Snuggling under the duvet, she stared dubiously at her masterpiece.

"Gracie?"

"Yes?"

"What will happen if the pillows fall over during the night?"

Gracie sighed. "I'll build them up again."

A laugh drifted across the cotton and foam wall. The pillows weren't exactly enough to keep a big, bad, wolf away, and Trent could be really bad when he put his mind to it.

"Trent?"

"Yes?"

"What are _you_ wearing?" He'd already dived under the duvet before she'd arrived in the room. Knowing Trent, he'd push the limits of their 'no touching' rules to his advantage.

"Nothing."

There was a moment's silence from Gracie's side of the bed. "Nothing? What do you exactly mean by _nothing_?"

He moved in the bed. Two seconds later, his head popped up over the top of the pillows. "Want to have a look and see?"

Gracie turned on her side and gave him an unrestricted view of her pink pussycat back. "No, thank you. I've got principles, unlike someone else I know."

"You've forgotten that I've been living with you for the last month. I'll turn out the light."

Gracie scrunched her eyes tight as she heard him push back the duvet and move around the bed. When the light went out, she opened her eyes a smidgen. She started breathing again when she felt Trent's side of the bed move.

"Sweet dreams, honey. I hope all that pink flannel doesn't get too hot in the middle of the night."

Gracie hoped so, too. She could already feel her temperature rising, but whether that was from the flannel or the man lying buck naked beside her, she didn't know.

So much for the pajamas keeping her safe. They might end up being her downfall.

Two hours later, the Great Wall of China collapsed in an almighty heap on the floor.

"Gracie McKenzie, would you _please_ stop twitching and jumping around like you've got fleas on your side of the bed. I can't sleep with all that bouncing going on."

Trent's grumpy voice irritated Gracie even more than she already was. "Don't you, _Gracie McKenzie_ me. I'm hot and I can't sleep with all these layers on."

"For goodness' sake, woman. Take something off and go to sleep."

Gracie grumbled for a few more minutes, tossed some more, then finally got out of bed. "Do you promise on your best Boy Scouts promise not to get all touchy-feely on me?"

He growled. "I was never in the Boy Scouts. But if I had been, I would swear profusely on my honor not to touch any part of your anatomy. I've got to be up in four hours. I need to get some sleep."

Gracie looked at the shadowy lump in the bed beside her, cursing hot flannel. Tiptoeing back to her room, she whipped her pajamas off and slipped a nightshirt over her head. Her whole body quivered as the cool cotton touched her skin. As quietly as she could, she made her way back into their room.

"Tiptoeing won't do much good at this stage."

"I was being respectful."

Trent grunted and rolled onto his side.

"Hey, where have the pillows gone?"

"Don't push your luck, short-stuff. After the last couple of days we've had, I'm more interested in sleep than exploring nocturnal activities with you. Goodnight, Gracie."

"Goodnight," she muttered, settling down for a good night's sleep. What was left of it, anyway.

Gracie woke up before Trent stirred. She doubted even the cows were mooing, it was so early. Dragging her feet to the floor, she stumbled toward her bedroom. Trent wouldn't catch her anywhere near his bed on their second official morning of being married. She liked a little adventure in her life, but she'd be pushing her luck way too far if she thought she could get away from his wandering hands.

A slight detour in their marriage plans wasn't what she needed. Slight detours could be lethal, especially given their detour in a hotel room in the middle of Sin City.

She smiled as she quietly pulled on her jeans. It wasn't often a girl woke up on the first day of her marriage, well, the first day she knew she was married, getting dressed in another bedroom. She'd bet her last paycheck that most new wives wouldn't want to be out the bedroom door before their husbands opened an eyeball. But here she was, Gracie McKenzie, on the run and proud of it.

"Gracie?"

"Out here." She pulled a sweatshirt over her head and ran onto the landing. "I'm about to go downstairs to make breakfast."

Trent stood in their bedroom door, squinting at the glare coming through the windows. "What are you doing up so early?"

"It's six-thirty. The cows are calling your name."

Glancing down at his watch, he groaned. "It must be the emotional toll you're taking on me. A man's nerves can only stand so much stretching until something has to give."

Gracie's eyes traveled over his half naked body. She frowned at the grin slipping across his face. "You'd better be careful it's not the elastic in those boxers doing all the giving."

He leaned against the doorframe. "Are you worried you might like what you see?"

She laughed as she skipped down the stairs. "Have you forgotten? I've already seen what you've got." And he didn't need to bother asking if she'd liked what she saw. He knew she had.

"I'm not going in there."

Grabbing Gracie's hand, Trent pulled her toward Dominique's. "There's no way I'm buying you an engagement ring from Aladdin's Cave. It's Dominique's or nothing."

"Would you stop causing a scene," she hissed. "I will not spend thousands of dollars on a chip of diamond that won't be on my finger for long."

"Stop being so pessimistic. You'll be old and wrinkly before you know it and still threatening to divorce me."

Pulling her hand out of Trent's grasp, Gracie scowled at him. "You might as well give in because I'd sooner go without."

He looked down at his pint-sized rottweiler. Gracie's red hair practically sizzled with indignation as she glared up at him. It didn't matter how long she stayed his wife. She'd remember each week with more than a chip of synthetic crystal attached to her finger. If it was the last thing he ever did, she'd be wearing the biggest diamond he could find. But looking at the scowl on her face, it wouldn't be happening today.

"Fine. Forget about an engagement ring. We'll only get our wedding bands from here." He pulled her through the door and up to the front counter before she had time to argue.

A sympathetic man might have felt insulted by the withering look she sent his way, but he was made of sterner stuff. Trent glared right on back, until the sales assistant interrupted their contest to see who could glare for the longest.

After a lot of debate, Gracie finally chose a slim gold wedding band. No decoration, no inset jewels. Just a plain, gold band. The sales assistant tried her best to entice Gracie toward some of the more flamboyant designs, but she wouldn't listen. Plain gold suited her just fine.

While Trent paid for the ring, Gracie shot outside.

"Was the sight of all those diamonds too much?"

She poked her nose in the air. "No. I just needed some fresh air after all that schmoozing you did with the sales assistant."

"Schmoozing? Whatever do you mean?"

"You know very well what I mean, Trent McKenzie. Every time that woman got near a tray of diamond rings, you drew her attention to their setting and color. The poor girl thought all her commission days had come at once."

"Weren't you even a little tempted?"

"Nope."

Trent smiled. "Not even by the princess cut diamond you kept zig-zagging back to?"

"I didn't zig-zag back to anything," Gracie said. "I was just trying to get out of the store before you charmed the poor girl behind the counter into marrying you as well."

"One wife's enough. We'd better get something to eat. I need food before you chew my other leg to the bone about the cruel barbarian I've turned into."

Gracie managed a half decent huff, but still snuggled under his arm when he held her around the waist. His heartbeat picked up a notch when he remembered the snuggling that had gone on earlier in the day.

After they'd had breakfast, Gracie left to do her chores and he'd caught up with Jordan. Five hours later, he'd gone back to the barn. Gracie was up to her elbows in water, washing Daisy after a run in the lower fields. Somewhere between the water and the horse shampoo she'd ended up in his arms.

Gracie had kissed the daylights out of him in a way that made the hay bales look like a mighty fine landing pad for a set of newlyweds. Until Jordan turned up, that is.

Like the bucket of cold water Jordan tipped over Trent's head, his brother's arrival had cooled the temperature down to a low simmer. Gracie hadn't hung around to help him dry off. She'd used Jordan's arrival to resurrect the no touching policy and had disappeared quick-smart into the house.

"What do you feel like for lunch?"

Trent blinked. The only thing he wanted wasn't on any menu he'd heard about. And Gracie wasn't open to an all you can eat buffet. "How about we head across to the Emerson Grill?"

"Sounds good to me. Isn't Sandra Lee's somewhere around there?"

A groan built in his chest at the thought of another monster shopping trip.

Gracie rubbed the side of his waist with her hand. "I promise not to be too long."

Trent looked down at the long, dark lashes fluttering in his direction. His breath caught in his throat. He'd turned into a ball of mush. No one would believe how much disruption this woman had caused to his well-ordered life. Just when he thought he was heading in one direction, she'd do a three-point-turn and twist him around in knots. The slightest glance out of her big blue eyes left him hanging in midair, wondering when the ground had disappeared.

"There's another person I need to see while I'm in Bozeman."

"Don't tell me," he said. "You want to repeat our magic moment in Vegas and renew our wedding vows?"

"Not quite. Erin's found some more information for me. I said I'd call in to the library on our way home."

"Sounds like it could be a long afternoon."

"Don't worry, Trent. I won't lead you astray."

He wouldn't have been so sure about that.

# Chapter 10

Trent pulled himself out of his truck, staring at the rag-tag bunch of vehicles parked along the street. Greg and Jenny Matthews had bought their single-story cedar home more than five years ago. They'd been busy renovating it ever since; in-between three children, two dogs and a cat of dubious pedigree.

"Hey, dude."

Trent turned and grinned at Alex Green. His friend walked toward him with the gait of a man confident in his own skin. He looked like the type of cowboy who spent his life falling off bad-tempered steers.

The break in Alex's nose had long since healed, but the crooked bump remained. He thought it gave his face character. Trent told him he was after a sympathy vote from the ladies.

"I didn't know you were back in town," Trent said. "I heard you got roughed up by a pretty little steer in Idaho."

"Nothing pretty about wrestling with six hundred pounds of prime beef. Mom said you've been doing a little wrestling of your own. I didn't even know you were dating anyone."

Trent had wondered how long it would take the gossip mill to broadcast his marriage to the world. Five days had to be one of the slowest turnaround times in the history of Bozeman. "It happened quickly."

"You can say that again. She must be something to make you walk down the aisle before you came home."

There hadn't been much walking involved. Sitting in the shuttle while Elvis officiated at their five-minute wedding hardly seemed like the most romantic way to start married life. But then Trent hadn't been interested in romance. Not then.

He didn't have a clue how to explain his marriage to a group of men he'd known for most of his life. Call him a coward, but he hadn't planned on coming into town for the babysitting half of his Friday ritual. But Tess had convinced Gracie to head over to Billings with the other halves of the men sitting inside Greg's home. He was just relieved that Jordan had decided not to come and watch his brother make a fool of himself.

Trent rang the doorbell and waited for someone to unlock the gates of hell. He could hear Greg's three boys screaming like banshees inside the house, and a deeper voice, probably Greg, making even more noise.

Ben Taylor opened the door, balancing his five-month-old niece in his arms. His wide grin couldn't hide the dark smudges under his eyes. Unexpected fatherhood hadn't been easy on him. "I don't know if I should let you in. I lost twenty bucks to Nathan because of your wedding vows. You've never had an impulsive bone in your body. What happened?"

"The love bug bit him on his ass." Alex laughed over Trent's shoulder. "And she'll give him grief for the rest of his life."

Ben stood back and let them pass. "Maybe you deserve to come in, then. Look around before you decide to add a few more munchkins to this gang of kids. It should put you off for life."

Nathan walked toward them. "Unless it was a shotgun wedding."

"Jeez," Trent groaned. "I'm not even in the door and you've got me booked into antenatal classes. Gracie's not pregnant." But the thought wasn't all that hard to swallow.

Nathan scowled. "Well, don't just stand there. Come and get a drink before Greg makes another circuit with the kids. You'll get flattened in the stampede."

"I'll meet you out there," Ben said. "Emma needs to go to sleep."

Trent followed Alex and Nathan through the house and onto the deck. He looked around the backyard, smiling at the bikes and scooters parked against the fence.

Nathan passed him a can of beer, still cold from the bucket of ice stashed beside the house. "We've all heard the condensed version of what happened in Vegas. Now you'd better tell us what really happened."

Trent looked at Nathan. "How did you find out?"

"Mom," Nathan said. "She told me word started circulating on Monday that you got yourself hitched. I've been waiting for a call."

Adam Jefferies poked his head through the kitchen window. "And Doris told me when I called into Jake's Hardware."

Out of all of Trent's friends, Adam was by far the tallest. Built like a beanpole, he had arms and legs that hadn't made it past the gangly teenage stage. But the man could move when he needed to. Especially when a woman decided she wanted to be a lawyer's girlfriend. It was unfortunate that the lawyer in question didn't believe in long-term commitment. Adam preferred short-term parking rights with a number of women, one after the other.

Greg appeared on the deck with his sons trailing after him. "Don't say anything until I get back. I'm putting the boys to bed."

Adam came out of the kitchen with a can of cola in one hand and a thick steak sandwich in the other.

Trent sat on one of the chairs, risking a quick glance at his friends. They all stared back. "You can't all be desperate for news of my wedding?"

"Desperate isn't a word I'd use," Nathan drawled. "Stunned, shocked...maybe even amazed would sum up what I thought when I heard you were married."

Trent shot a glance at Alex. The grin on his face was enough to give Trent itchy feet. There was no he'd get away from his friends in a hurry, so he settled down for a long interrogation.

Ben rushed into the room. "Have I missed anything?"

"Nope," Nathan frowned. "We're just waiting on Greg, then Trent will tell us why he let the rest of us single men down by getting married."

Trent thought better of drinking alcohol. He left his can of beer on the deck and grabbed a cola. Four pairs of eyes followed his every move.

Before they talked about his sorry excuse for matrimonial bliss, he needed to do some digging of his own. "So," he cleared the frog that marched up his windpipe. "How's your dad, Alex? I haven't seen Jim around much." And that would have to be about as subtle as a sledgehammer.

Alex reached for a bag of potato chips. "He's been working in Texas for a couple of weeks. Before that he went to California. Some movie producer wanted his rodeo scenes to be authentic."

Ben took the chips out of Alex's hands. "He should have hired real cowboys to wrestle the bulls, not pretty-boy movie stars."

"You saying I'm not pretty?" Alex grinned.

Ben laughed. "You've got so many scars and bruises that only someone with bad eyesight could call you pretty."

Trent let the easy banter continue. He needed answers, but there was obvious, and then there was stupid. He'd been both when he'd married Gracie, and he wasn't going there again. After everyone had said something, he turned the conversation back to where he needed it to go.

He passed Alex a cold can of cola. "Gracie's a teacher and her students are interested in the rodeo. Kristina invited her to look at the things your dad collected while he was overseas."

Alex raised his eyebrows. "And I take it Gracie is your dearly beloved?"

Trent nodded. Gracie wouldn't consider herself his dearly anything, but his friends didn't need to know that.

Alex tipped back his head, swallowing a gulp of cola. "Dad's got half a lifetime's worth of rodeo stuff stored in the garage. We used to go poking through the boxes when we were kids."

Nathan disappeared into the house, coming back with a plate of steak in one hand a bag of bread in the other. "We'd better eat something before Adam comes back for seconds. Who's got the ketchup?"

"Here." Greg came outside waving a red container in the air. "What have I missed?"

Alex cleared a space on the table for the steak. "Her name's Gracie, and the girls in her class like bull riders."

"She teaches eight-year-olds in New Zealand, not twenty-two-year-olds." Trent moved his chair, making room for Greg.

Alex groaned. "There goes fantasy number six."

"I don't want to know what the rest of your fantasies involve." Trent sighed. "When did your dad tour New Zealand?"

Alex speared a piece of steak with a fork and dropped it onto some bread. "Let's see..." He reached across for the ketchup, squirting a healthy dose over the meat. "It was the last rodeo tour Dad ever did outside of the States. Mom was still pregnant with me when he left, so it must have been about twenty-eight years ago."

Trent choked on his cola.

"Jeez, dude," Alex grinned. "I know I'm getting a little long in the tooth, but you don't have to act so surprised."

He glanced across the table. Nathan wasn't laughing. His eyes were seeing far more than Trent wanted anyone to see.

Ben slapped his back as he dropped a steak sandwich in front of him. "Eat up, bud. You've got a tale to tell and a horde of women due back in a few hours."

Trent looked around the table. They'd all had their share of ups and downs, some worse than others. But through it all they'd always been there for each other. No matter what had happened, they'd never deliberately lied to each other. They might have twisted the truth sometimes, but never lied. He was about to change that.

Four weeks ago, he thought Jim Green stood a good chance of being Gracie's father. Now he knew there was almost no chance he _wasn't_. He couldn't let anyone, especially Alex, know what was happening. If he got a whiff of something weird going on with his dad, he'd be on the phone to Jim, digging into twenty-eight years' worth of secrets.

If that wasn't bad enough, as soon as Gracie had her answers she'd head back to New Zealand. Away from Montana and away from him. And that caused an ache deep in his heart that he couldn't begin to understand.

Trent stared at the steak sandwich sitting in front of him. He'd just lost the appetite he'd arrived with, and he might have lost Gracie as well.

The following night, Trent watched Gracie twirl in front of the full-length mirror in their room.

Light blue fabric floated in the air and settled in a soft silk cloud around her legs. She couldn't have looked more like Tinker Bell if she'd tried. Her hair was folded into a fancy knot on the back of her head, drawing attention to her high cheekbones and long expanse of neck.

Heat spiked through his body as he remembered nibbling on her neck in Vegas. That heat dipped a few degrees when he thought about the news he hadn't told her. Maybe he'd wait until tomorrow. Maybe not.

A heavy dose of guilt had kept him awake half the night. He'd tossed and turned so much that Gracie had vanished into her old bedroom, grumbling about needing sleep.

"What do you think?" Gracie frowned. "Trent? Are you listening? Is the bodice too revealing for the Sweet Pea Ball?"

He moved his eyes away from her neck and down to her breasts. If she asked him about any other part of her anatomy, he'd explode on the spot. "Umm..." He cleared his throat. "The bodice looks fine."

It wasn't the tight, low-cut bodice or the layer of lace around the edge that made his brain malfunction. It was the way the silk pushed up the creamy skin inside the bodice that made him want to indulge in a quiet night on the ranch. He swallowed a laugh as Gracie started jumping on the spot. If that wasn't enough to set his heart-rate hammering, she bent forward and jiggled her boobs. _Right in front of him_.

She must have been happy with whatever experiment she'd been conducting because she gave him a satisfied smile and reached for the necklace sitting on the dresser. A goofy grin spread across his face. It was the opal pendant.

"Could you do this up for me, please?"

His hands shook as he clicked the clasp into place. He took an extra few minutes to gently rub the nape of her neck, hoping to rekindle a spark of chemistry. But Gracie wasn't in a biting mood. She didn't wiggle her shoulders or even take the time to glare at him. Damn.

He peered over her shoulder to see how the pendant looked. Bad move. The opal rested quite happily on the upper slopes of her super-enhanced cleavage. Trent knew what that felt like. It was one place he'd like to visit again if he got half the chance.

As far as he could make out, that wouldn't be happening anytime soon. Apart from one kiss that had given him false hope, Gracie had dodged all snuggling opportunities. He'd have thought sharing a bed with someone would open possibilities that might have been lacking in the middle of a field. But, no. Gracie had been up at the crack of dawn each day, outmaneuvering every attempt he made to keep her tucked up in his arms. Rule number one was still in force and he hadn't had to worry about getting anywhere near the second rule.

Gracie moved closer to the mirror, squinting at her lips. Looking slightly happier after a quick lip smacking pucker, she turned toward him. "Are you ready to go?"

Trent straightened his tie. He'd put on the same suit he'd worn in Vegas, hoping Gracie might get a sudden urge to re-explore what was underneath. But she didn't look even remotely tempted. "Ready and willing, honey."

Grabbing his hat, he bit back a laugh. He should have known marrying Gracie would always create more problems than it solved.

A bubble of excitement lodged in Gracie's throat as she walked through the entrance of the Jefferson Ballroom. Everyone had dressed in evening gowns and suits, ready to dance the night away at the Sweet Pea Ball.

Her gaze wandered around the room. From the silver, shimmering fabric draped over the walls to bowls of deep red roses decorating each table, the ballroom looked majestic. Tall arched windows overlooked the setting sun and a huge marble fireplace, at least twice her height, stood in the middle of one wall.

"Do you know if Kristina's coming to the ball with her husband, Trent?"

He glanced down at her, then looked across the room. "They'd normally be here, but they've gone on vacation for a couple of weeks."

Gracie smiled at an elderly couple. "I'm beginning to think they're avoiding me," she whispered.

"Who? The people who just walked past?"

"No. Pay attention, Trent. Kristina and her husband. Every time I think they'll be somewhere, they don't show up. I've never known two people to be so busy all the time."

"Jim runs his own company. He travels a lot."

"All I'm saying is that it seems odd. Adele said you've known their son Alex for years. Has he ever mentioned anything about his dad's life on the rodeo circuit?"

"Not a lot. There's Mom." Trent pointed across the room. "Let's see if she knows where we're sitting."

Gracie frowned as Trent pulled her across the dance floor. If she didn't know better, she'd swear he was deliberately evading her questions. As they wove through the crowd, he didn't seem inclined to linger with anyone. She'd learned more about Kristina and Jim from Adele than Trent had ever told her, and he'd been the one who had offered to help find her father.

Karen stood beside Jordan and Tracey, the same girl Jordan had been smitten with at the barn dance.

Karen kissed Gracie's cheek. "You look beautiful. Is that the pendant Trent bought you?"

Gracie nodded. "He must have inherited his good taste from his mom."

"Thank you." A soft blush skimmed Karen's cheeks. "It's a wonderful thing when a man has an eye for what looks lovely on his wife. Trent's dad had a lot of good points, but choosing jewelry wasn't one of them. He was always happiest out on the ranch, not poking around a shopping mall."

Jordan wrapped his arm around Tracey's waist. "Come on, everyone. Let's get a drink and head to our table. Dinner starts in half an hour."

"Trust you to be thinking about food, little brother." With a grin, Trent turned to Gracie. "Would you like a margarita?"

Her face flamed, remembering the trouble margaritas had gotten her into not so long ago. "No, thank you. A mineral water will be fine."

"It won't work, you know."

Gracie could have swatted her husband's smiling face with her evening purse, except she didn't want to crease the satin. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Leave your wife alone, big brother. Can't you see she's dying of thirst?"

It wasn't thirst making Gracie feel desperate, it was her husband.

Trent leaned forward and gently kissed the side of her face. "I'll be back soon."

Watching his tall frame wind through the hall of party-goers, Gracie let out a long sigh. Seeing Trent in the same suit he'd worn in Las Vegas hadn't helped unfuzz her brain. Since they'd left the ranch her memory had been replaying, in minute detail, where that suit had ended up.

"You look as though you've won a major lottery and don't know how to claim the prize." Jordan's eyes twinkled. "It's the same newly wed stare Trent gets when he looks at you."

"He's probably just sleep-deprived and exhausted." Throwing her purse over her mouth, Gracie wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

Jordan laughed.

Thank goodness he didn't know the truth. The first week of married life had been exhausting, exciting, and plain hard work. But not for the reasons anyone else would imagine.

Each day she got out of bed before dawn to avoid Trent's warm body. No matter where she went on the ranch, thoughts of his ready smile, quirky humor, and sexy body weren't far from her mind. The more time she spent around him, the more she had to control her wayward thoughts. She needed to focus on the end goal of finding her father and forget about the in-between bits. But there was one obvious fault with _that_ plan. It was the in-between bits that were causing her the most problems.

"Here you go."

Gracie jumped at the sound of Trent's voice.

He held a glass of mineral water in his hand.

"That didn't take long."

"Nathan's on bar duty. He thought I'd come to pay my debt from poker night, so he let me jump ahead of everyone else. I can always get you something a little stronger if you want to live dangerously."

Gracie ignored the grin on her husband's face and took a sip of the water.

Trent passed his mom a glass of white wine. "Jeff said to save him a dance, Mom. He arrived a few minutes ago with the Carringtons."

Jordan smiled at his mom. "I think he's smitten."

"Nonsense." Karen blushed. "We're too old to be smitten. Jeff's my friend."

"Just remember your curfew, Mom. Doris said you didn't get home until after eleven o'clock last Wednesday night."

"Good Lord," Karen huffed. "Is there nothing Doris doesn't know?"

Jordan shrugged his shoulders, "Beats me how she finds out things."

"It's Tess's café," Trent said. "Between that and the craft group, she has all her bases covered."

Trent was doing a fine job of covering his bases, too. Gracie frowned as he moved his arm around her back and began rubbing his fingers in small circles against her skin. If that wasn't enough to make her body lean toward him, then the look in his eyes told her he didn't care about cafés and craft groups.

Gracie felt her stomach muscles clench. Her body began melt-down mode. She gulped more cool water. He'd just broken rule number one.

Trent kept his expression bland as the conversation continued around them, and his hands kept wandering around her. She tried to catch his fingers and hold them to her side, but the rascal kept pulling them away. As soon as Jordan left to get more drinks, Gracie stepped away from her misbehaving husband and started talking to Tracey.

It looked as though Trent was tired of playing by the rules. If the determined gleam in his eye was anything to go by, their hands off policy wouldn't be making an appearance anytime soon. It would be up to her to tell him to stop or live with the consequences.

She had a feeling she'd be living with the consequences.

Later that night, Gracie sat back with a smile on her face. She'd enjoyed every minute of the Sweet Pea Ball. The dinner had been delicious and the band kept her feet tapping and hands clapping even when she wasn't on the dance floor.

Her eyes wandered around the room, coming to a sudden stop at a brunette wobbling toward them on five-inch heels. Wearing a tight red dress that left nothing to the imagination and even less room for breathing, she headed straight for Trent.

She looked at him with all the anticipation of a woman getting ready to enjoy something tasty for supper. The smile lost its punch when she realized Gracie was sitting beside her catch of the day. "Well, aren't you a sly one? I heard you were married. What a surprise."

Trent cleared his throat. "Gracie, this is Stella Lawton. Stella, Gracie."

Gracie stared at the woman making cow-eyes at her husband. So this was the mysterious Ms. Stella that she'd first heard about in Walmart. With the amount of eyelash fluttering going on, Gracie had a feeling Stella wasn't too worried about the marital status of the men she met.

Gracie might not have Stella's cleavage or the lashes to work with, but she did have the man. She leaned against Trent, draping her arm along the back of his chair. Her fingers rubbed the nape of his neck in slow, obvious circles.

"Why thank you, Stella. I can highly recommend married life. I've got a wonderful husband." Gracie tried to look adoringly at Trent, but the laughter lurking in his eyes told her she'd failed miserably.

Trent, however, wasn't slow off the mark. Without any extra encouragement, he leaned forward, plastering the hottest smooch on Gracie's lips she'd ever enjoyed in public. When she came up for air, Stella had disappeared, Jordan had a grin stuck across his face and Karen looked like the proudest mother-in-law Gracie had ever seen.

Tracey sat with her mouth open, looking with a new-found respect at Jordan's sister-in-law.

Gracie's skin felt like it was on fire, scorched from the inside by raging hormones running out of control. So much for being cool, calm, and collected. Hot and steamy had nudged them out the door within seconds of locking lips with her husband.

"Time to dance."

Gracie reached for the hand that Trent held out to her. One look in his eyes and she knew she wasn't the only one overheating. "Do you promise to be good?"

Trent drew her toward him, holding her close. He leaned down and whispered, "Real good, honey."

Gracie groaned. This wasn't going to plan. "I'm bringing rule two into play."

"What did you say? I'm developing a severe case of husband deafness."

"It means there's no touching allowed."

Trent pulled her into his arms. "We didn't make a rule that said dancing wasn't allowed."

As they circled the ballroom, Gracie tried hard to remember why snuggling with Trent was banned. But as soon as the reason popped into her brain, it disappeared in a puff of heat.

"I'm taking you home in half an hour," he said. "So make the most of the ball. After this, it's just you and me."

A tremor slipped through her body as she rested her head against his chest.

She needed a new plan. Fast.

Trent looked across the truck at his wife. "Are those pre-dawn wake-ups and long days making you a little sleepy?" He watched Gracie try to hold in another yawn, but her body refused to cooperate.

"You're working me too hard."

His eyebrow rose. "Some might say not hard enough."

Gracie choked back a laugh. "Just keep your eyes on the road and get us home in one piece."

"Do you want to know something?"

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

He ignored her ungracious comment. "I've finally worked out how to beat you at your own game. Your days of pretending there's no attraction between us are over."

A strangled gasp came from her side of the cab. "The only attraction I feel for you is when I put my cold feet on top of yours. Your feet are better than hot water bottles and much cheaper to run."

"Tell me that when you're lying on top of me at three o'clock in the morning."

"I haven't been on top of you since we were in Las Vegas. And there wasn't much lying down involved."

He could almost feel the heat flaming off her cheeks. "What I need to do is lull you into a false sense of security, then pounce when you least expect it."

"And you're telling me this, because?"

"I'm giving you fair warning, honey. I'm getting ready to pounce." He could have pounced on her at any stage tonight and she wouldn't have minded. The way she'd melted against him when they'd been dancing still left him feeling slightly lightheaded. Every time she'd held his hand or moved in his arms he'd felt an odd possessiveness creep into his heart. And that wasn't the only feeling that had made itself known.

"You could try pouncing. But I got my vaccination against horny husbands when you took advantage of my inebriated state and married me. You're looking at a pounce free zone."

Gracie looked pleased with herself. Her button nose tilted in the air, stubbornly refusing to admit anything was going on between them. She might not be quite so confident when they arrived home.

"We'll just have to see then, won't we?"

"Don't push your luck, cowboy."

Gracie crossed her arms. Her gold wedding band cast a dull glow against her skin. He only wished she'd let him buy her a big flashy engagement ring. More men than he cared to admit had looked twice at his pint-sized bride. But after one look from him, they hadn't paid quite so much attention next time they'd glanced her way.

He should have been happy that Gracie was still living at the ranch, that she hadn't thrown the twisted logic keeping her in Montana back in his face. But sometimes he felt like a noose was hanging around his neck. It got tighter each time he told a lie to make everyone believe that Gracie was more than his temporary bride.

Each time he told Gracie he was helping her find her father.

Gracie woke up plastered to the side of Trent's body, her nose stuck under his armpit. Wiggling her fingers, she felt smooth, warm skin.

This definitely wasn't a dream. Last night she'd barely evaded Trent's wandering hands. One cold shower and a mound of pillows jammed between their bodies had done nothing to squash the heat pulsing through her body.

Her nose twitched and she let rip with a giant sneeze.

Trent jerked upright, tossing Gracie against the bed. "What the...?" He rubbed his eyes and peered around the room. "Gracie?"

"Who else were you expecting?" She smiled at the muddled look in his eyes.

Confusion turned to a scowl, and then turned to something else altogether.

She didn't want to analyze where that expression was going. It was time to get up.

Trent lunged forward, trapping her between his chest and the bed. "Where are you going?"

Gracie swallowed. The gleam in his eyes wasn't a good sign. She needed to move fast. She tried wiggling a little to the right, but parts of Trent's anatomy moved to the right as well. Gracie froze.

Trent grinned.

She slid her hands carefully toward his waist, breathing a sigh of relief when she felt the silky smoothness of satin. He'd worn boxers. "Duty calls, boss. Gotta feed the chickens."

Trent leaned forward, rubbing his nose along the edge of her cheek. In a quiet voice he whispered, "It's five o'clock in the morning. We didn't get in until after one. I think the chickens can wait at least another hour for their food." He moved his lips to the bottom of her ear, nibbling on her lobe.

Heat pooled in parts of Gracie's body that shouldn't be awake at this time of the morning. Imagining the possibilities of an early wake-up call with a six-foot cowboy wearing nothing but satin boxers made her squirm.

"Umm, Trent?" Her voice came out in a high-pitched squeak. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Trent." She groaned as his lips took an unnatural interest in the side of her neck. Her body melted into the bed. "The rules. Remember the rules."

"Which one?"

Gracie tried to remember which rule they were breaking. She frowned when she felt her fingers lightly rubbing his back. How did that happen? She jerked her arms away, gripping the sheets in case her traitorous body ignored her brain.

Dancing in his arms last night, then trying to evade his warm hands when they'd made it to bed had been bad enough. Lying under her husband with a cotton nightshirt and a pair of silky boxers between them was asking for trouble.

Trent lifted his chest off hers, using both arms to push up from the bed. She breathed deeply as a puff of morning air cooled down her overheated skin. Her top half might be safe, but her bottom half now bore the weight of Trent's not so inconsiderable body. A gentle twist of his hips dissolved Gracie into a ball of unfulfilled lust.

She groaned as Trent pushed a tad deeper into the bed. He stared down at her with a wicked light in his eyes. The toad was using every devious trick he could think of to tease her. And her two-timing body was enjoying it. Every single second of it.

"I want to pounce, Gracie."

Holding her breath, she gathered all her resolve into a mushy ball of willpower. She smiled. He should be worried. Very worried.

Trent wiggled his hips.

The one brain cell left between her ears kicked into gear. To get away from Trent, she needed to be on top. The only way she'd be able to do that would be to play along for a while, then jump off his delicious body in super quick time.

Gracie let go of the sheets, rubbing the palms of her hands across his chest. Trent growled low in his throat as her fingers circled his nipples. Licking her bottom lip, she let her hands wander over his biceps, gently scratching his hot skin.

She opened her legs, sending the hard length of him into her soft body. She moaned as the contact of silk on cotton nearly undid all her bad intentions.

Trent used his hips to rock against her body in little movements that made her vision blur.

Planting her legs on either side of him, Gracie lifted slightly, just enough to give him the idea that she needed what he was so generously offering. The problem with that flawed logic was that her body _did_ want what he was offering. She could even feel herself lining up for seconds and thirds before the main course had been served. Greedy. She wanted to be greedy.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Her breath came out in little gasps as Trent took full advantage of her slip in concentration. She needed to get on top. _Now_.

Gracie ran her hands over his shoulders. She gave him a little push. "On your back, handsome."

He grinned, flipping them both over in the bed.

Little did he know that disappointment was about ten seconds away.

Trent pulled her bottom snuggly onto his groin and her legs slipped either side of his hips.

Gracie groaned as her body rose and fell to accommodate the rocking cowboy under her. He moved her forward, pushing against her body until she cried out his name in a strangled growl.

Maybe she could give him thirty seconds of delusion before she raced out the door. He rocked her forward again. Okay, so she'd turned into a pushover. Forty seconds, and that was her best offer.

Trent's hands started their own exploration of the front of her nightshirt. He reached down and pulled at the hem, trying to yank it free from between their hot bodies. She wiggled her bottom. Trent seemed to forget about the nightshirt.

His hands stopped moving and his knuckles turned white against the balled up cotton in his hands. A wave of heat skimmed his jaw and flushed his cheeks.

Gracie gasped at the naked possession clouding his eyes. She watched as they told her exactly what he felt. She was his and he meant to have her, every last inch of her, wrapped around his body and pleading for release.

"If you're even thinking about rule number two, you need to do something about it now, Gracie."

She sucked in a lungful of air, trying to find the right words to stop this insanity.

A deep and powerful awareness settled in her heart. Even though it was the last thing she needed, she knew she loved this man. She'd loved him from the moment he'd wrapped his body around hers in Walmart. She loved every stubborn, crazy, funny inch of him and it had gotten too hard to pretend otherwise.

She knew that if she wanted to take the plunge, Gracie McKenzie would be loved like no other woman on the planet.

She wasn't pretending anymore. She was playing for keeps. Gracie lifted her hips and pulled her nightshirt over her head.

Trent sat up and suckled her breast. Her groan of pleasure filled the bedroom as he licked and stroked all reason out the door. Gracie didn't care about anything except the taste and smell of her husband as he wreaked havoc on her quivering body. She pushed harder and faster, gasping as Trent's body bucked beneath her.

He held onto her hips, lifting her off his lap and onto her back. He wrestled her panties down her legs, jerked as her hands found the waistband of his boxers.

Gracie slid her hands under the satin, squeezing and stroking until his breathing turned hot and labored. Wiggling down in the bed, she followed her hands with her lips, smiling at the low growl vibrating in Trent's throat.

He hauled her up his body. Grabbing a condom, he growled into her ear, "Now, Gracie. I need you, honey."

He moved above her and she locked her legs around his waist, eager for their joining. He teased her until they were both hot and slick with sweat. Using the heels of her feet, she pulled him deep, hard, and fast into her body.

Trent moaned her name into the pillow as his body shattered above her, leaving them both gasping for air.

She wrapped her arms around him and wiggled her hips. "Are you still alive, cowboy?"

"I don't know," Trent groaned. "But if you keep doing that, you'll find out." He rolled onto his side, pulling her with him.

"I think I have a problem setting boundaries."

Trent reached for her hand, kissing her knuckles. "As long as those boundaries sit tight around the two of us, you won't hear any complaints from me."

"That's twice we've made love. Twice in one week."

"I'm happy to make it three."

She closed her eyes and realized she'd have to do some serious reconsidering about her future plans. Gracie McKenzie loved her husband, and she wasn't sure what to do about it.

# Chapter 11

Trent rolled down the window of his pickup, wishing he was heading anywhere except into downtown Bozeman. He felt like a fool. Or maybe an idiot. Probably both.

He didn't know what had changed Gracie's mind about the no touching clause in their marriage, but he sure liked it. Ever since the Sweet Pea Ball, she'd been happy to indulge his addiction to her body. He was worried at how easily they'd slipped into the role of husband and wife.

After six weeks of living together, he figured they should be having disagreements; squabbling over what TV channel to watch, whose turn it was to load the dishwasher, or who'd left the toilet seat up for the hundredth time. But that hadn't happened.

He even thought Gracie might have had revenge on her mind for their less than honest wedding ceremony. But that didn't seem to be happening, either. They'd fallen into a simple pattern that he looked forward to each day. And each night they'd fallen into other patterns that distracted his mind and turned his body into a quivering wreck. When he made love with Gracie, he felt like he'd run three marathons in a row and still had enough energy left to conquer the world.

Now he had to organize their divorce. He'd made a promise and whether he wanted to be here or not wasn't important. He'd make sure he didn't mess up his last chance to show Gracie he had some scruples running around his half-baked brain.

Parking in front of Osborne and Sons, he stared at the big concrete letters plastered over the entrance. The red-brick building owed a lot of its architecture to the traditional values of the founding families of Bozeman. Solid. Dependable. Safe. Everything he wasn't. He felt like a man staring down the barrel of a gun instead of someone sorting out the mess he'd created.

Pulling himself out of his truck, he jammed his hat on his head. He needed to get this over with before he chickened out and never made it through the front door.

"Can I help you?"

Trent looked at the woman behind the reception desk. With a smattering of freckles sprinkled across her nose, she looked as though she should have been in school and not reigning supreme in a lawyer's office. She'd twisted her dark hair into some kind of knot. Bits of it stuck out all over the place, like a sparrow had been nesting and lost track of what he'd been doing.

She patted her head. "Still not right, huh? I'm trying for the sophisticated executive look, except my dog ran away with my clips. They're probably buried halfway to China by now."

Trent didn't know what he should say, so he took off his hat and waited.

She stood and reached over the counter. "Annie O'Leary, fill-in receptionist and part-time baker."

He squinted at the grinning woman. "Trent McKenzie, ma'am. I've seen you before. You work at Angel Wings Café with Tess."

"That's me. I'm helping here while Mrs. Daniels is on vacation. Who did you come to see?"

"Adam. Is there more than one lawyer now?"

Annie shook her head. "Only Adam, but there's a chiropractor along the corridor and the Montana Chamber of Commerce are upstairs." She looked at her computer and smiled. "You're on time. Go down the hall and take the second door on the left."

Trent nodded and trudged along the brown carpet. He'd walked down the same corridor for the same reason, fifteen years ago. Last time he didn't have a choice. This time he wanted to turn tail and run. He flicked his knuckles against a wooden door and walked into the room.

Adam looked up from an inch thick block of paper lying in front of him. "Perfect timing. You've saved me from drowning in deposition hearings."

"Don't get too carried away. You won't like what I've got to say."

Adam dropped his pen and sat back in his chair. "Sounds serious. Have a seat."

Trent couldn't have sat still if his life depended on it. So he paced backward and forward until he felt dizzy. "I need a divorce."

"A what?"

"You heard me. Gracie and I want to get divorced."

"But you've only been married for a couple of weeks."

"I know. What do I need to do?"

"You need to go home and sort out whatever trouble you've gotten yourself into."

Trent stood still long enough to glare at his friend. It didn't do much good. Adam stared straight back. "Is this your legal opinion or something you spout off to every idiot who walks through your door?"

"I don't see many idiots who want a divorce after two weeks of marriage. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Well, that much is obvious. You didn't mention anything about a divorce at the barbecue, so what's happened?"

"It's a long story," Trent muttered.

Adam grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.

"Where are you going?"

"I need fresh air and coffee. We're heading across the road before I'm tempted to throw you out the door on your backside."

"What about my divorce?"

"It's called a Petition for Dissolution of Marriage. And you really don't want to go there until I've had my morning dose of caffeine."

When Adam got to the reception area, he leaned over the counter and clicked something on the computer. "We're heading to the café, Annie. I'll be back in half an hour."

"Choose the blueberry muffins. I made them this morning."

Adam smiled. "If you used the computer half as well as you cook, I'd give you a permanent job."

"You'll have to settle for seeing a little less of me then, won't you?"

"Come on, Trent. We'd better get out of here before Annie realizes she's better off with Tess and packs her bags for good."

Trent followed Adam onto the street. He didn't care about Annie or Tess. He needed a divorce and the one person who could help him was more worried about his stomach. Trent stumbled and Adam grabbed his arm.

"You'll end up in an ambulance if you don't pay attention."

A car sped past them, its horn cutting through the fog in Trent's brain. At least he wouldn't have to worry about getting a divorce if he was six feet under.

Adam opened the café door, hauling Trent in by the arm. "Two coffees as thick and black as you can make them, Tess, and three blueberry muffins."

"One to go?" she asked.

"You know me too well."

"I know Annie and her sweet tooth better." Tess pulled the muffins out of the cabinet. "You'd better put that smile away, Adam Jefferies, or you'll leave a hole in my heart."

Trent cleared his throat. A man in crisis didn't want to hear flirty talk, especially if one the flirtees was supposed to be his friend. He looked around the café, wondering how a sane man could have dug himself into such a mess. At least he could make himself useful and find a table while Romeo worked his magic.

"Yoo-hoo, Trent. Over here." A white handkerchief waved in the air. Doris and Jessie sat at a table overlooking Main Street. He ignored their expectant faces and headed to a table on the other side of the room.

"Over here you two," shouted Jessie. The conversation in the café dipped to nothing.

Trent dragged his feet toward their table. "Morning, ma'am."

Doris picked up her patchwork handbag. "We were just about to leave, wasn't that right, Jessie."

Jessie nodded. Her hands were busy stacking empty plates in the center of the table. "Gracie and your mom went past about fifteen minutes ago with a box of chalk in their hands. I'd say they're about to add their doodling to the sidewalk."

"And there'll be no space left for us if you keep talking," Doris grumbled.

Adam stopped beside Jessie. The smell of rich coffee sank into Trent's bones. He needed a mug of caffeine real bad.

"You're such a worry-wart, Doris." Jessie folded a paper napkin in half and added it to the dirty dishes on the table. She glanced across at Trent. "Is everything all right? You look a little under the weather."

"I'm fine."

"It doesn't look that way to me, young man." Jessie frowned as she spotted Doris halfway through the door. "I haven't got time to talk. When you see Gracie and your mom, say hi from me." She shot away from the table, disappearing with Doris into the crowd of people outside.

Adam put their coffee on the table. "Do you think it's safe to sit down?"

"You'd better check for hidden wires. They didn't put up enough of a fight to find out why we're here." Trent left his hat on the chair beside him. He sat with his back to the window just in case Doris came back and used her lip-reading abilities to see what was going on.

"Here you go. Two blueberry muffins with an extra one bagged for Annie. If you need anything else, let me know." Tess left the muffins on the table and walked back to the counter, already smiling at the next customer waiting to be served.

Adam took a long sip of his coffee. "Doris and Jessie aren't the only ones wanting to hear your sordid tale. You can start from the beginning while I'm eating."

Trent watched most of Adam's muffin disappear in a couple of mouthfuls. He leaned forward, just in case someone else had an interest in what was happening on the Triple L. "Gracie wasn't exactly stone cold sober when we I married her. The next day she wasn't too pleased that we'd tied the knot."

Adam coughed into his fist. "Really?"

"I'm glad you're taking my problem seriously." Trent slouched in his seat, glaring across the table.

"Don't I always?" Adam polished off the rest of the muffin and wiped his hands on a napkin. "So why did you wait two weeks before coming to see me?"

"We...umm." Trent took a deep breath. "Gracie wants to find her father and I want a wife. I thought if I could convince her to stay married to me until she finds her father, she might decide she likes me enough to stay."

"And?"

"I've found her father."

"She must be happy."

Trent swallowed some coffee. "She doesn't know."

Adam sat forward. "Will you tell her?"

"Of course, I'll tell her. Eventually. But she'll be upset." Upset didn't even come close to how she'd take the news. "I've known for a few weeks."

"So let me get this straight. You fell in love with her, got married, found her father, don't want her to leave, but you want a divorce?"

"Sort of. The love thing got a bit jumbled along the way." Trent watched Tess take a couple of coffees to the people sitting at the next table. "The day after we got married, I promised Gracie I'd organize our divorce. So I'm here, only I don't want a divorce. But as soon as I tell her about her father, she'll be gone anyway."

"You don't believe in keeping your life simple, do you?"

Trent picked up his muffin and took a bite. At least that way he could concentrate on something that didn't involve a five-foot-one redhead.

"I can start the paperwork rolling, but Gracie needs her own lawyer." Adam looked up as someone came into the café. "We'll need to negotiate the property settlement."

"The what?" Trent's hand connected with his coffee, spilling half a cup over the table. He grabbed a handful of napkins, soaking up the black liquid before it hit the floor.

"Property, Trent. Little things like the ranch and whatever else you own."

"But we've only been married for a couple of weeks."

"It makes no difference. You don't get special treatment for acting like a fool."

Trent dropped a handful of soggy napkins onto his plate. "How long will it take?"

"Once I've filed the paperwork, you should be a free man in about five weeks. Are you sure Gracie wants a divorce?"

"When she finds out how long I've known about her father, she won't want to talk to me, let alone stay married to me." Trent stared through the window. Every day he spent with Gracie left him even more confused. She'd wound her way into his heart, buried herself inside him so darn fast that he didn't know when he'd started falling in love with her. And he wanted her to stay with him. Live on the ranch and be part of his life forever. Only forever wouldn't last any longer than a few more weeks.

As soon as their divorce was final, she'd leave Bozeman with his heart and half his ranch clutched in her hands.

Gracie walked with Karen along the main street of Bozeman, gazing at the chalk drawings on the sidewalk.

A group of school children giggled as they added finishing touches to colorful masterpieces in front of them.

She stopped to admire a rather ferocious looking grizzly bear with pink fur.

"Here you go. Time to draw our pictures." Karen handed Gracie a box of chalk and they bent down to draw in the afternoon sunshine. 'Chalk on the Walk' was one of the fun activities the arts festival committee organized every year. Judging by the number of pictures linked along the sidewalk, half of Bozeman had added their drawings to the ground.

"What did you buy when I disappeared into the changing rooms?" Karen picked up a yellow piece of chalk. A huge golden ball appeared in the middle of her sidewalk square.

Heat crept along Gracie's face. She'd met Karen in town for a shopping spree that had left her feeling a little lightheaded. Seeing Karen's shopping prowess in action was something she wouldn't forget in a hurry. Gracie's credit card had only given a slight tweak at the purchases she'd made. Karen's card had almost run away in horror.

"I bought a new nightie," Gracie mumbled. Except she didn't think she'd be doing much sleeping when Trent saw the babydoll lingerie she'd bought.

She hadn't meant to buy anything, but she couldn't resist the soft lilac silk or the way the lace bodice clung to her body. The red satin slip with black lace trim that made its way onto the counter had been an impulse buy. Gracie wasn't given to impulse buys, but then she'd never been one to buy babydoll lingerie either. Trent McKenzie had a lot to answer for.

Karen smiled at the picture Gracie drew. "I like your cowboy. Reminds me of a certain son of mine."

Gracie gave up trying to hide her flaming face. "It might be the only time when I can put Trent exactly where I want him."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. The way he looks at you, I think you could wrap him around your little finger without even trying."

Stopping to fan her hot face with her hand, Gracie glanced up the street. Kristina Green was walking toward them, sun hat perched on her head and a smile on her face. The smile fell straight to her shoes the moment she saw Gracie.

Karen looked up. "Hi, Kristina. Have you come to draw on the sidewalk?"

Kristina's gaze shot to their pictures. "No. I've come into Bozeman for something else. You look busy. I'll leave you to your drawings."

"Gracie and I are nearly finished." Karen stood and rubbed her hands together. Chalk dust floated in the air. "Do you want to have a coffee with us?"

"Maybe another time," Kristina said. "I've got an appointment that I'm already late for."

Karen frowned. "Okay, well...another time then."

Kristina darted a quick look in Gracie's direction, then hustled down the street.

Gracie would have bet a hundred dollars that there wasn't a smile to be seen anywhere near Kristina's face now. "I think it's me."

"What do you mean?" Karen asked.

She stood up, wiping her hands on the side of her jeans. "It's me that's causing the problem. I don't think she likes me very much."

"Nonsense. There's not one thing _not_ to like about you. I saw Kristina last week and she asked all sorts of questions about why you were here. She didn't seem the least bit worried about anything. I don't know what has gotten into the woman."

Gracie's gaze shot to Karen. "I thought Kristina and Jim had gone on vacation for a few weeks?"

"No, they've been at home since Jim got back from Texas. They've had their hands full with the rodeo school."

It didn't take much to work out that Trent McKenzie had been deliberately telling Gracie a bunch of fibs. He hadn't been helping her. He'd been leading her away from Kristina and Jim. Of all the rotten things anyone could have done, this had to be the worst.

Karen picked her shopping bags off the sidewalk. "She's probably heading over to the library."

"Why would she be going there?"

"Jim's giving a talk about his life on the rodeo circuit and the school they run. It's part of a community education program the library runs each year."

"What time does it start?"

Karen glanced down at her watch. "In about half an hour."

"I think I'll go and listen, too."

"That's a great idea. You can take Trent as well."

Gracie looked sharply at Karen. "Trent?"

"He's walking straight toward us."

Gracie stared down the street. Trent was heading toward them and not looking anywhere near his normal sunny self. Funny that.

He stopped in front of Gracie and raked his hand through his hair. "We need to talk. Mom, do you mind if I take Gracie away?"

"Of course, I don't mind. We were just about to leave, anyway. Is everything okay?"

"It will be. I'll call you later." His gaze landed on the parcels at Gracie's feet. "Are these yours?"

She nodded, not wanting to go anywhere with him, but knowing what she needed to say couldn't be said in front of his mom. "Thanks for the shopping trip, Karen."

"Anytime. Take care with that son of mine."

Gracie scowled.

Trent grabbed her hand, pulling her down the street in double-quick time. "Where's the Nissan parked?"

Gracie pulled him to a stop. "Whatever you've got to say you can tell me here. I only came with you because I didn't want your mom to hear what I've got to say."

Trent frowned at the crowd of people still drawing on the sidewalk. "What's wrong, Gracie?"

Nothing that a good cry wouldn't fix, she thought. But she wasn't going there. "I was about to ask you the same thing. Did you get our divorce papers organized?"

"Adam has started the paperwork, but he said you'll need to organize your own lawyer." His boots scuffed the ground.

"I don't need my own lawyer."

"Yes, you do. We need to work out a property settlement."

Of all the things she thought he'd say, that didn't come close. "I don't want your property. I want a divorce."

Gray eyes snapped at her. "You don't have a choice."

Blue eyes snapped back. "Yes, I do." Gracie rummaged around in her handbag, pulling out a pen and a scrunched up piece of paper. In big bold letters she wrote, "I, Gracie McKenzie, do not want any property or assets that Trent McKenzie owned before or after I married him." She added the date and her signature and waved it in front of her husband's nose. "Give that to our lawyer. Are you going to tell me what else is churning you up or do I have to guess?"

Trent stared at the piece of paper in her hands.

"It won't do much good hanging in midair." Gracie shoved it in his pocket.

"I think I've found your father."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Who is he?"

"Jim Green. Kristina's husband."

Gracie blinked once, then again, just to make sure the water gathering behind her eyes didn't make it to her face. It didn't work.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. Don't cry."

She shrugged Trent's hand off her arm. It felt like a branding iron, hot enough to blister her skin. "I'm going to the library."

He frowned. "Why?"

Something inside Gracie snapped. She didn't care two hoots about Trent McKenzie. The last six weeks had left her emotions raw and her heart in shreds. Searching for her father, getting married, falling in love with a stubborn cowboy—it was too much. A whole bunch of lies had twisted into an ugly mess and she wanted it to stop.

She yanked the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. "I won't be going to the library to look at the information Erin spent hours researching. And I won't spend another three hours hunting through newspapers. And I've already gone through every phone book in three states, so it can't be for that."

Trent's jaw dropped. "You know about your father?"

"Not until about ten minutes ago. I thought Kristina didn't like me. Every time I saw her she ran a mile. When your mom told me she's been asking questions about me, it all fell into place. Kristina has known for weeks that I could be her husband's daughter. How long have you known?"

Trent cleared his throat. "I had a feeling it was him the week after you arrived in Bozeman. I found out for sure last Friday."

"Five weeks? You kept this news to yourself for most of my stay and didn't think I'd be interested?"

"I didn't tell you because I don't want you to leave."

"I won't stay with a man who lies to me about one of the most important things in my life," Gracie yelled.

"I didn't lie. I just didn't...I mean, I..." Trent dropped Gracie's shopping on the sidewalk. "I care about you."

"You've got a warped way of showing it." She glanced down at her watch. "I've got to go."

Trent frowned. "To the library?"

"Jim Green is the guest speaker." Gracie snatched her shopping off the ground.

"Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Nothing I've done since I got here has been a good idea, so what difference will this make?"

"We'd better hurry, then."

"I'm going on my own."

"No, you're not. I'm coming with you whether you like it or not."

Gracie stared at his stubborn face. No amount of arguing would get her anywhere.

"Please yourself." She turned on her heel and stalked across to the library.

Gracie sat as straight as a board while they waited for Jim Green to arrive. Trent had reorganized the entire back row so he could sit beside his wife. Darn fool man, she fumed. She didn't need him interfering with her life any more than he had.

The flyer in her hand fluttered to the ground. Picking it up, she read the brief details of Jim's life. He'd been busy. Over the years, he'd visited lots of countries with a rodeo company and made a successful career out of doing what he loved.

"Kristina's here."

Gracie looked up. Trent nodded toward the front of the room. Kristina sat in the first row, looking tense and pale under her Montana tan.

Applause filled the room. Gracie's gaze landed on a set of double doors opening on her right. A man in his mid-fifties walked into the room. He stopped behind the speaker's podium and smiled at Kristina.

Gracie's vision blurred. She felt like she'd been slammed headfirst into a concrete brick wall, knocking every ounce of oxygen out of her body. Hands continued clapping around her. People moved in front of her, finding a seat at the last minute.

Jim Green took some notes out of his pocket. He said something to the woman standing beside him and she smiled.

He had bright blue eyes. Eyes that were the same shape and color as Gracie's. When he smiled, she could have been looking at a mirror image of her own smile. When he stood in front of the tall window, his brown hair glowed with copper highlights.

Trent's hand clasped hers, squeezing life into her bloodless fingers. "Breathe, Gracie."

She turned, panic rising like a waterless tide through her body. "It's him. That's my father."

He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. "Just listen and see what he has to say."

"But he's got my eyes and mouth. And I'd bet anything his hair was once as red as mine."

Trent gently held onto either side of her face and looked straight into her eyes. "Just listen to him. We'll figure the rest out afterward."

Gracie gripped Trent's hand. Right at this moment, she didn't care that he hadn't told her who her father was. She didn't care that he'd lied when she'd asked him about Kristina and Jim. All she cared about was the man standing at the front of the room.

She listened as Jim told the audience about his life, the places he'd visited, and the program his students went through to ready themselves for the professional rodeo circuit. At the end of the talk, he asked if there were any questions. Gracie wanted to jump up and ask if he knew he had a daughter. But common sense and Trent's hand kept her bottom planted firmly in her seat.

"Do you want to meet him?" Trent asked.

Gracie shook her head. It was too soon, too much of a shock to finally meet the man she'd been searching for.

"Okay. Let's go outside and get some air." He led her around the chairs, moving to the entrance.

"Trent? I thought that was you at the back of the room." Jim Green smiled and moved toward them. Gracie froze.

Kristina looked up from talking with someone and turned white.

"It'll be okay," Trent whispered to Gracie. He smiled at Jim, shaking his hand and introducing Gracie.

She thought a zap of high voltage electricity would shoot down her arm when she touched her father's hand. But nothing happened. His skin felt rough, his handshake firm. Gracie squared her shoulders and tried a tentative smile.

"Are you all right, little lady? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Gracie opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She tried again. He must think she had two loose screws rumbling around her head. "I'm from New Zealand." This wasn't how she'd imagined meeting her father. She wanted to impress him. Wanted to sound intelligent, but she couldn't think of anything to say. "I...um...I married Trent." Still no better. She looked at Trent, hoping he'd help.

Kristina stood beside her husband. "We need to head home now, Jim."

"There's no hurry," he said. "I haven't seen Trent for months. I heard you married this little lady in Vegas."

"It was a spur-of-the-moment thing." Trent looked down at Gracie and she nodded. "Do you have time for a coffee? Gracie has a few things she'd like to ask you."

"No," Kristina said. "We really need to go."

Jim looked between his wife, Trent, and Gracie. A frown settled on his face.

"Is it important?" Jim asked.

"No, it's not important." Kristina's voice cracked like a whip in the quiet room. She cut a razor-sharp glance toward Trent and Gracie. "You don't know what you're doing. Jim's not who you think he is."

A group of people stopped and stared at the commotion at the back of the room. Gracie glanced at their audience. Ears were pricked to full alert and tongues would be wagging before the afternoon was over.

Jim looked in the same direction. "There's a café on the other side of the library."

Kristina held onto her husband's arm. "No, Jim. We don't need to listen to what they've got to say."

"I think we do. What's going on, Kristina?"

"Nothing." Tears gathered in her eyes.

"It sure doesn't look like nothing to me," Jim said softly.

Kristina shook her head. She sniffed and then pulled back her shoulders.

Jim wrapped his arm around his wife's waist. "Let's find a table and some coffee."

Trent nodded and followed Jim and Kristina out of the library.

Gracie held onto Trent's hand, watching her father move through the crowd of people gathered in the library entrance. After they'd ordered their drinks, Gracie looked between Jim and Kristina. "I'm looking for my father."

Jim frowned. "I don't know if I can help, Gracie. Was he on the rodeo circuit with me?"

She nodded, almost overcome by the kindness shining in his eyes. "I was born twenty-seven years ago on July 27 in Wellington, New Zealand. My mother's name is Sarah Donnelly."

Jim's face lost its color, turning his skin a pale shade of gray.

Kristina stared across the café. She didn't look at her husband, didn't look at anyone.

"I've had a good life." Gracie stopped, glancing at Trent. "I have a great life. I don't want to mess up your family. I just want to know if you're my father. I want to fill in some gaps."

Jim took a deep breath. He leaned his elbows on the table, dropping his head into his trembling hands. "I was in New Zealand, and I knew your mother, but I don't think I'm your father, Gracie." He glanced at his wife. "I'm sorry, Kristina."

Gracie's heartbeat stuttered. She looked between Kristina and Jim. They weren't touching, weren't speaking. Weren't doing any of the things Gracie had imagined would happen.

With a sigh, Jim pushed back in his chair, resting his head against the wall behind him. "I met Sarah in Auckland. I was young and foolish." He glanced at Kristina and then looked back at the table. "She followed the rodeo around the country. It didn't matter where we went, she was always there. One thing led to another and, well...I'm not proud of what I did. When our tour was nearly over I realized what I had at home was more important. So I came back to Montana." Tears gathered in his eyes as he looked at his wife. "I swear that I haven't looked at another woman since."

Kristina ignored the hand Jim placed on her arm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

A waitress came across with their drinks. She gazed around the table and made a hasty move back to the front counter.

Kristina looked at Jim's hand, then up into his face. "I've known about your affair for twenty-eight years." Her voice rasped raw against the chatter filling the café.

Jim's mouth dropped open. "How?"

Gracie held her breath.

Kristina stared at her coffee. "A letter arrived a few months after you got back from New Zealand. I knew something had happened while you'd been gone, but you wouldn't talk about it. The letter was from Gracie's mother. She said she was pregnant."

Jim stared at his wife. "What happened to the letter?"

Kristina took a deep breath. "I burned it."

"Why would you do that?"

"Jacob was three years old. I was pregnant with Alex. I loved you. I didn't want you going back to New Zealand. I didn't want one mistake ruining our life together."

"The baby was my child." Jim pulled his hand away from his wife's arm. "I could have done the right thing by both of you."

"The right thing would have taken you halfway around the world. You might not have come back."

"It wasn't your choice to make," Jim said.

Kristina glared at him. "I didn't have a choice. You destroyed my trust in you. If you hadn't dropped your pants in the first place, this wouldn't have happened." She bit her lip, glancing across the table. "I'm sorry, Gracie, you didn't need to hear that. It was wrong of me to burn the letter from your mother." Kristina turned to her husband. "I can't stay here with you. I'll see you at the ranch later."

Jim watched his wife as she left the café. He turned toward Gracie. "I'm sorry. I didn't know Sarah was pregnant. I don't know what you want from me."

"I don't want anything." Gracie could have curled into a ball and wept. "But if you want to talk to me, I'll either be on the Triple L or in New Zealand." She pulled a pen out of her bag. With a trembling hand, she scribbled her address on a paper napkin. "That's where I live in Wellington."

Jim stuffed the square of tissue into his pocket and stood. "I need time to think things through. Look after Gracie, Trent." He left the café and walked into the sunshine.

Gracie pushed her mug of chocolate away. She knew who her father was. She'd talked to him, found out more in the last ten minutes than she'd ever known before. But she felt a burn, deep in her chest, when she thought about Kristina and what would happen next.

"I've hurt them."

Trent leaned forward, resting his arm on the table. "They'll work it out."

"What if they don't? What if they can't get past all the hurt? I've destroyed a family because I wanted to find mine."

"How you ended up in the world isn't your fault. Jim made a mistake. A huge mistake."

"Maybe I did, too. I shouldn't have come here."

Trent wiped a tear off her face. "Everything that's happened in your life has made you the person you are today. And that person's special to me. Don't let regret take anything away from what you've achieved. You've found your father. You've even become a half-decent cowgirl."

Gracie pulled a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose. "With a horse who thinks she's a cat."

Trent passed her another tissue.

"What will I do?"

"I guess that's up to you, Gracie."

Gracie arrived back at the ranch feeling like a fugitive on the run from the law. Her gaze shot around the yard. No truck. That meant she had time to pack her clothes and leave the Triple L before Trent got back. She needed to sort out the jumble of emotions running through her head, and she couldn't do that on the ranch. Not with Trent living under the same roof.

She piled her clothes into her suitcases. After putting three bags in the Nissan, she headed back inside for the last case. Gracie flicked her nightshirt out from under the pillow, picked her socks up off the floor and jumped a mile.

Trent stood in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and a scowl chiseled into his face. "What are you doing?"

Gracie stuck her nose in the air. Bluffing was her specialty and there was no way she'd let Trent see how upset she felt. "I'm leaving. I'm packing the last of my clothes." When he didn't move, she asked, "Do you want to check my bags?"

"Don't be a fool."

"I might be a fool, but I married an even bigger one." She picked her suitcase off the floor and gripped her nightshirt and socks in a tight fist. "Now if you'll excuse me, I want to be back in Bozeman before it gets dark."

He didn't move from the center of the doorway.

Gracie walked toward him.

He stayed exactly where he was.

"You can't keep me in this room forever. Move out of the way."

"You're not going anywhere until we sort this out."

Trent grabbed her nightshirt. She pulled it back. "There's nothing to sort out. I agreed to stay married to you until I found my father. I've found him." She tugged hard again. "You can always marry the next person on your list."

"I don't want anyone else. I want you."

"Well, you can't have me." Gracie let go of her nightshirt. She held onto her socks in case he tried to take those as well. "I'm leaving."

Still he didn't move. A girl had her dignity, but even that was wearing thin. If Trent kept looking at her like his favorite puppy had died, she'd start bawling her eyes out. And that wouldn't happen.

"What about Jim and Kristina?" he asked. "I thought you wanted to stay in Montana to get to know them."

"I don't think they'll want to speak to me again."

Trent stared at her, his knuckles turning white against the pink cotton in his hands. "What will it take for you to stay? Do you want money? I can give you a bigger share in the ranch. We could do some traveling together. Anything, just tell me what you want."

Gracie's jaw dropped. Goose bumps ran along her skin. The man she loved had just offered her a bribe to stay married to him. She needed to get out of here before she vomited all over his miserable life.

She tightened her grip on her suitcase and heaved it forward, ramming it into his stomach.

Trent staggered back, almost catching the edge of Gracie's T-shirt as she bolted through the bedroom door.

She dropped the case at the top of the stairs and flew down the steps. Grabbing the keys off the hall table, she sprinted across the yard. Trent yelled her name from the bottom of the veranda as she yanked the Nissan's door open. She shoved the keys in the ignition, planted her foot on the accelerator, and tore down the drive in a shower of gravel.

Her heart raced as she pulled out onto the main road. She'd left her favorite pink nightshirt in Trent's hand and a suitcase full of sweaters on the stairs. But she'd left the house before one tear slipped down her face.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down. She'd almost been fooled. Almost believed that Trent might have been a little in love with her, but after today she knew better. Taking advantage of her drunken stupor had been bad enough, but offering her money to stay married to him was plain disgusting. He didn't think much of himself, and even less of her, if he thought she'd ever consider taking money to solve his problems.

She reached across the seat for a wad of tissues. The darn fool hadn't realized she'd stay married to him forever. For free. All she wanted was his love.

Trent watched the dust fly as Gracie sped down the drive, spitting gravel and dirt high into the air.

He rubbed his stomach. The edge of her suitcase had caught him off guard, but it wasn't his stomach causing him the most grief. If it had been, he wouldn't be standing in the middle of his yard calling himself every idiot under the sun. He'd been so relieved to see the Nissan sitting outside that he hadn't thought about what was happening inside.

"Hey, Trent. I saw the dust cloud down the drive. Is everything okay?" Jordan jumped off his horse and stood beside him.

"Gracie's left."

Jordan pushed the brim of his hat up. "What do you mean, left? As in gone into town? Or gone for good?"

"For good."

"Jeez. What did you do?"

Trent felt his fists bunching at his sides. "It's a long story."

"Must be to have her take off like that." Jordan kicked the stones in front of him. "So, what are you doing about it?"

"Nothing. There's absolutely nothing I can do." Trent stared down the drive. No amount of wishing would get Gracie back. She'd found what she'd been looking for, and that didn't include him.

"So you're just letting her leave?"

"What do you want me to do? Chase her down the drive like some love-sick fool? I don't need to be told twice that I'm not wanted. She made it perfectly clear that she hates me."

"She's your wife. You've only been married for a couple of weeks. You have to do something."

"No, I don't. I've got work to do." He gazed down the drive one last time before heading across the yard.

"Whatever happened can't be as bad as..."

"Leave it, Jordan." Trent kept moving. He needed to forget about Gracie. Forget about the mess he'd made of his life. Gracie was gone and she wouldn't be coming back.

Trent spent the rest of the day stacking hay in the barn. He ignored the loft as he shoved bale after bale into every nook and cranny he could find. Remembering a redheaded pixie perched high in the rafters wouldn't get her out of his mind.

He threw the forklift into reverse, picking up the last bale. He'd be damned if a five-foot-one minx would put him in a tailspin. He had work to do. He didn't have time to worry about a woman who didn't want anything to do with him.

When he'd finished in the barn, he walked home. A long hot shower would wash away the dirt and dust caked to his skin. Maybe even clear his head and make him feel half-human again.

He wiped his arm across his face and jumped when his cell phone rang. His heart pounded, but when he looked at the caller display, he groaned. It was his mom. Heaven help him if he kept thinking his wife would be on the end of each call, telling him she'd be home soon. He held his phone to his ear.

"It's your mother, Trent. What's going on between you and Gracie?"

He knew that tone. He frowned, trying to figure out how she knew that Gracie had left. There was only one person who knew what had happened. His brother's big mouth must have been working overtime the minute he'd left the ranch.

"It's not as bad as Jordan made out, Mom."

"Don't you Jordan me, Trent McKenzie. He had nothing to do with it. Gracie turned up here two hours ago with her suitcases and your Nissan, wanting to leave the truck here for someone to collect. She looked about as miserable as a cat caught in a snowstorm, so I convinced her to stay with me. I've sent her off to get some groceries while I talk to you. Now what's going on?"

Trent kept walking toward the house. At least Gracie hadn't broken her neck between the ranch and Bozeman. "We had an argument. A bad one."

"No kidding. It doesn't take nearly forty years of mothering two boys to know when someone's upset. She's your wife. Gracie's thousands of miles from home. You're the person she loves, so sort out whatever's causing the problem and take her home before she's gone for good."

He took a deep breath, dreading what he had to say. It was all well and good knowing your wife didn't love you and your fake marriage was falling apart. It was another thing telling your mom. "Gracie and I are getting a divorce."

Silence hissed down the phone.

"What do you mean, you're getting a divorce? You've only been married two weeks. No one gets a divorce after two weeks."

"We shouldn't have gotten married." Trent felt sick. His stomach clenched in tight knots as he remembered Elvis and the shuttle full of excited witnesses.

"Nonsense. A blind man could see that the two of you are meant for each other. Sit down with Gracie and talk about what's going on."

His mom sounded like she was trying to explain something to a five-year-old. There were lots of problems she didn't know about and he'd make sure it stayed that way.

"It's not as easy as that. Gracie and I have some...issues that we can't sort out."

"Issues my petunia. Get that head screwed on straight, Trent McKenzie, or your wife will be heading back to New Zealand."

"Gracie's not coming back, Mom. Tell her she can keep the Nissan for as long as she needs it. Let me know when her flight leaves and I'll have one of the boys pick the truck up from the airport. I'll call you later."

He turned off his phone. His mom would be furious, Gracie hated him, and Jordan was in for a grilling. His life had taken a serious nosedive.

Gracie emptied the last of her suitcases into the bedroom closet and gazed through the window. Two children zoomed past Karen's house on their bikes, a streak of color filling the quiet suburban street. She hadn't intended staying here. In fact, she nearly hadn't stopped to drop Trent's vehicle off at his mom's, but she didn't know where else to leave it.

When Karen suggested she stay with her until she left for New Zealand, she wasn't sure it was a good idea. Lying to Trent's family and friends about their relationship had been bad enough. Living with his mother after she'd walked out on their phony marriage wouldn't help anyone. Karen didn't agree, but then she didn't know the reason why Gracie had left her son. After a bit of not-so-subtle arm twisting, Gracie had agreed to stay.

"How's it going? Did you manage to squeeze all of your lovely clothes into the closet?" Karen stood in the doorway with a smile on her face and a hot coffee steaming in her hands.

"Mostly. I've left the cowgirl outfit and a few other bits and pieces in my bag."

"Come and have a hot drink. I thought we'd head into town for a picnic. There's a great line-up of musicians playing in the park tonight. It's guaranteed to bring a smile to your face."

The only thing Gracie felt like doing was shutting the bedroom door and letting the world pass her by. But that wouldn't solve anything. She gazed at Karen. The worried look in her gray eyes reminded her so much of Trent that she nearly cried on the spot.

"That sounds like a good idea." She pulled a clean pair of sneakers out of the closet. Falling in love with a headstrong cowboy who refused to believe in love had never been part of her plan. Falling in love with _anyone_ had never been part of her plan. She'd come to Montana looking for her father and to enjoy the company of the students she'd met through cyberspace.

She'd found her father. In a couple of days she'd meet Gerald's students and settle into her two-week teaching role. Mission accomplished, goals achieved.

Apart from a broken heart and two marriages left in shreds, she should have been the happiest person alive.

# Chapter 12

Gracie rolled onto her back, pulling the duvet around her chin.

There it went again.

Opening one eye, she frowned at the window opposite her bed. Something or someone tapped lightly on the glass. She held her watch up to her nose. Six-thirty. Who on earth knocked on a window this early in the morning? And why were they using the window? There was a perfectly good front door about ten steps to their right. Swallowing a yawn, she sat up and grabbed her sweatshirt off the end of the bed.

She hesitated before pulling back the curtains. Surely it wouldn't be Trent? It couldn't be. He didn't have any reason to be at his mom's house this early.

The pulse at the base of her neck beat furiously. Catching the edge of the curtain in her hand, she slowly pulled it back. " _Jordan_? What are you doing here?"

"I had to pick up some supplies." He gave her a cheeky grin. "Where's my cowgirl gone? You're usually in the barn with Daisy by now."

"I'm on town time now." Gracie looked down at the garden under his boots. "Come around to the front door before you trample your mom's plants to death. I'll let you in like a civilized person."

Jordan tipped the brim of his hat with his fingers. "Appreciate that, ma'am."

As soon as his feet passed through the door, he headed into the kitchen, hunting for leftovers.

Gracie smiled as she listened to him mumble something into the refrigerator. "We had dinner in Bozeman last night."

Jordan gave a satisfied grunt. He closed the door and waved two chicken drumsticks triumphantly in the air. "I knew Mom wouldn't let me down."

Gracie made herself a cup of hot chocolate and sat at the table. "So, what are you doing here?"

Jordan stopped chewing and looked across at her. "I thought I'd visit my runaway sister-in-law."

Gracie groaned, sinking lower in her chair. "How did you find out?"

"It didn't take much. You sent a mile-high dust cloud into the sky on your way out. Trent must have annoyed you big time to send you rushing away like that."

Gracie stuck her elbows on the table, resting her head between her hands. "We're getting a divorce." She waited for Jordan to at least look surprised, but he kept chomping on the drumsticks. He paid more attention to what was going in his belly than the runaway bride sitting in his mom's kitchen.

"Fast work. Almost puts my love life to shame." He threw his chicken bones in the trash and grabbed a cup of coffee.

"You've been talking to Trent."

"Hard not to when he's stomping around the ranch like a wounded bear." Jordan looked at her for a long time.

Gracie's gaze drifted around the room. Those blue eyes of his had a way of eating into her heart and she wasn't ready to let anyone see what was crashing around in there.

"Since you're not enjoying the delights of the Triple L tonight," Jordan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "how about you come with me to Charlie's Bar and Grill? We can enjoy a night on the town, Bozeman style."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not up to going anywhere."

"Come on. It'll do you good. Besides, if you're worried about meeting up with Trent, it won't happen. I can't remember the last time he came into town on a Saturday night."

Gracie stared at Jordan. "Between you and your mom, I've got a busier social life than the day I arrived in Bozeman."

"We've got to keep you out of mischief somehow. At least if you're with me, I can keep you on the straight and narrow."

Gracie laughed at the smile on his face. The man didn't have a straight bone in his body and he knew it.

He grabbed his hat off the table. "I'll pick you up at seven-thirty tonight. And wear something casual but sexy. I don't want my image tarnished by a lovesick ex-sister-in-law mooching in the corner."

Gracie threw a dish towel at his laughing back as he headed out the door.

"Was that Jordan?" Karen walked into the kitchen, covered from chin to foot in a purple chenille robe. She yawned and headed toward the coffeepot.

Gracie nodded. "He had some supplies to pick up in town. He's invited me out tonight."

Karen leaned her hip against the kitchen cupboards. "That's Jordan for you. He'll have you dancing your troubles away faster than a speeding train." She took a coffee mug out of the cupboard. "There was a message on the answering machine when we got back last night. Kristina called."

Gracie froze. "What did she say?"

"She wants to come over this morning." Karen pulled out a chair and sat down. "I called her straight back. She told me about Jim and the letter."

Gracie's head dropped forward. Tears gathered in her eyes. "I think I've done more harm than good coming here."

"It needed to come out into the open." Karen patted her hand. "Secrets and lies can fester under your skin until they poison your whole body. I imagine there's been a whole lot of talk going on in the Green household since yesterday, so don't sell them short. We're a tough community. Family is family, and we don't forget that in a hurry."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was looking for my father. I didn't even know if I'd find him here."

"You've found him and that's all that matters. Now go and wipe those tears off your face and I'll make breakfast. Kristina will be here around nine o'clock. If you don't want to see her, then you'd better call her soon. Her cell phone number is in the notebook on top of the refrigerator."

Gracie looked across the room. Butterflies dipped and swirled in her stomach. She didn't know what she'd say to Kristina. Didn't know what Kristina would say to her. But she had to meet her.

After dropping a bomb on Kristina and Jim's life, it was the least she could do. "I'll go and get changed."

When Gracie opened the front door, it wasn't only Kristina waiting for her on the porch. Jim stood behind his wife, holding a battered cowboy hat in his hands.

"I've been acting like one of the prize-winning steers we raise on the ranch," Kristina said. "I thought if I kept my distance you might give up and stop looking for your father. I should have known you'd have the Green stubborn streak. I'm sorry."

A rush of tears filled Gracie's eyes. She hugged Kristina tight.

Kristina rubbed Gracie's back. "I always wanted a daughter, but the good Lord only saw fit to bless me with big, strapping sons. I guess he's the one having a laugh now. Are you okay with Jim and I coming to see you?"

"I'm pleased you've come." Gracie wiped her eyes. "Karen's gone for a walk to give us time to talk. We made a batch of muffins if you'd like to have some?"

"If those muffins come with a strong cup of coffee, then you can count me in," Jim said.

Gracie smiled at her father. "The strongest you like. Trent...umm, Trent likes his coffee as thick as tar, so I've had plenty of practice at getting it right."

Gracie walked into the kitchen, hoping Kristina and Jim didn't see the heat washing up her face.

"Where is Trent?" Kristina asked. "I called the ranch last night and Adele said you were staying with Karen."

"He...well, we had a disagreement about something and I'm staying with Karen until I can think things through." Gracie caught the look that passed between Kristina and Jim.

"Gracie," Jim said. "Take some advice from someone who's done more damage to a marriage than most people do in a lifetime. You can't work anything out alone. It takes two people to make a marriage work and two people to sort out any problems."

Kristina gazed at her husband. "Even good men can be idiots. Follow your heart, you'll work it out."

Following her heart wouldn't get Gracie out of the mess she'd created. It would just dig her twenty feet deeper. She looked at the muffins cooling on the counter. "I didn't know if you'd be talking to each other."

Jim sighed. "I've still got a long way to go to make up for hurting Kristina. I hurt a lot of people, Gracie, including you."

Kristina walked to the pantry and took out three mugs. "I'd like to write a letter to your mother, Gracie. I need to apologize for destroying the letter she wrote to Jim. If you get a chance, I'd be grateful if you could give me her address."

Gracie's hand hovered over the coffeepot. "Mom died earlier this year."

Kristina left the mugs on the counter and touched Gracie's arm. "I'm sorry."

Gracie nodded. "I'd always thought my father was dead. It wasn't until mom was diagnosed with cancer that she told me the truth."

Jim left his hat on the counter, looking a little lost. "I'm sorry about your mom, Gracie."

Gracie's vision clouded. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and poured hot coffee into their mugs. "I'm just happy that you want to talk to me."

"We want to do more than that," Kristina said. "Jim and I had a good talk about everything last night. We want to get to know you. If you'd like to get to know us, it would mean a lot."

"I almost forgot," Jim said. "I've got something for you and Karen. I'll be back in a minute." He disappeared out the kitchen door.

Gracie took the sugar from the pantry and put some muffins on a plate.

"Look what I've got." Jim walked into the kitchen with a big basket of strawberries dangling from his hand. "Fresh from our garden."

"They're huge." Gracie had never seen strawberries as big or red as the ones in his hands.

"We breed things super-sized out here in Montana."

Gracie smiled at his lopsided grin. "I've noticed that."

"Don't believe a word he's saying," Kristina laughed. "You need to show Gracie some photos of her great-great-grandparents. They were both five-foot nothing, but tamed a wild piece of land better than anyone twice their height could have done."

Gracie smiled. She had great-great-grandparents. She had a whole family tree branching out all over the place. She wasn't Gracie Donnelly, only child, anymore. She had roots.

Kristina passed Gracie a mug of coffee. "Put those strawberries on the counter, Jim, and have your coffee."

"Yes, ma'am." He grinned at his wife. "I thought you might like to visit the ranch one day, Gracie. You're too small for a bronco, but if you want to learn how to barrel race, I could teach you the basics."

"Don't listen to that husband of mine. He'll have you on the rodeo circuit before the end of the year if you let him."

A bubble of happiness grew inside Gracie. She'd found her father and a family she hadn't known existed. She should have felt like the luckiest person alive. And she did. Almost.

Later that evening, Gracie was ready for a night on the town with Jordan. After talking with Karen, she'd decided to wear a black miniskirt and a deep blue glittery top. She'd twisted her hair into a topknot and added small diamante earrings from her favorite store in Bozeman.

Jordan was busy talking to his mom when she walked into the living room. "You're here early." Gracie smiled as his eyes skimmed her outfit. "Do I look okay?"

"More than okay. Half the men in Bozeman will want to find out who the pretty little redhead is, and the other half don't count 'cause they're married. And before you ask, Mom has already fed me. Are you ready to paint the town red?"

"I don't know about red. A pale shade of pink is about all the fun you'll get out of me tonight."

Jordan hooked his hand under Gracie's arm. "Did I ever tell you that pink is one of my favorite colors? See you later, Mom. Don't wait up."

Gracie walked over to Jordan's mom and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "I've got my key. Thanks, Karen."

Charlie's Bar and Grill was in the historic district of downtown Bozeman. The red-brick building was built more than a hundred years ago. Inside, a long, thick timber bar ran along one side of the room with a square hatch providing easy access to food from the kitchen. Wrought iron lights hung above each wooden booth, shining soft cream light on the people laughing and talking below. A jukebox glowed red and orange in the far corner, picking random country songs from its playlist. The restaurant was full of people enjoying thick steaks, cold beer, and toe-tapping music.

Jordan introduced Gracie to a group of his friends. She enjoyed a few dances with some of the men and easy conversation with their female partners. Word hadn't made it onto the general grapevine that Trent and Gracie were getting a divorce. To her relief, no one seemed to think it strange that Jordan had brought his sister-in-law to the restaurant.

Jordan's bottle of beer dropped to the table. "Don't look behind you, Gracie. Trent's arrived."

Gracie choked on a peanut. Jordan's big, beefy hand thumped her back, nearly sending her flying across the room.

"Oops, sorry. I forgot you're such a tiny thing." He pulled her close, trying to hide her beside his considerable bulk. "Just stay there and don't move. If we're lucky, he'll ignore me and not see you."

Gracie rotated her shoulder blades, checking no bones had been broken. She quickly grabbed her glass of water off the table, trying to control her coughing before Jordan tried his anti-choking moves again.

"Are you okay, Gracie?"

Looking up into Trent's gray eyes, she gulped back the water. Other than the love-of-her-life standing in front of her, not willing to admit he felt the tiniest bit smitten toward her, she was just dandy.

"Fine, thanks. You?" Gracie stretched her face muscles into what she hoped was a polite smile. Forty-eight hours ago, she was happily living on the Triple L. She'd resigned herself to being Gracie McKenzie for another few months and staying with her temporary husband. Her biggest worry was how she'd tell Trent's family that their marriage was a lie.

Two days later here she was, passing the time of day with her soon to be ex-husband, in a downtown bar in Bozeman.

Gracie stared at Trent's clean-shaven face. He didn't look as though he'd become an emotional wreck without her in his life. He looked, well...normal. She thought he would have looked a little rough around the edges. A little lacking in sleep. But he looked...perfect. Too perfect.

"What's taking you so long, sugar?"

Jo-Jo Allen squeezed her size one body between Jordan and Trent. With everyone's attention focused on her tight white T-shirt, she hooked her hand through Trent's arm and snuggled close.

The piranha of the West had arrived.

"Trent darlin', I'm ready for you," Jo-Jo gushed.

Gracie's eyebrows rocketed off her face.

Trent cleared his throat.

He'd need to do a lot more than that to keep Gracie from throttling him.

Jordan bristled at her side. He glared at Trent, tugging Gracie out of Jo-Jo's reach.

Pulling her spine stiff, Gracie maximized every last inch of the heels strapped to her feet. At least one brother had morals. Her husband's standards had dropped so low that if he scuffed his boots against the ground, he'd be knocking on the gates of hell.

Trent sent a sizzling look toward her.

Gracie glared back. If the man thought one look would bring her to her knees, he was sadly mistaken. Parading his piece of hanky-panky on his arm in front of his soon-to-be-ex-wife didn't add to his charm. He only needed one wife at a time, for cripes' sake, not an entire herd.

Gracie smiled at the thought of Jo-Jo wrapped in cow skin. That thought alone gave her an extra spark of encouragement in the grim reality of Trent's two-timing tendencies.

"It looks as though you've got your hands full, Trent. I'd hate to keep you from your _friend._ " Gracie grabbed Jordan's hand, pulling with all her might. "Come on cowboy, you promised me the next dance." After a couple more tugs, Jordan got the message and started gravitating toward the far side of the room.

Gracie pushed him around the dance floor, doing her best to lead him in time to the music. "I thought I'd have to get out the cattle prod to get you moving."

Jordan sent the meanest look Gracie had ever seen in the general vicinity of where Trent was standing. "Of all the no-good, low-life, idiotic things to do. Jo-Jo Allen's at the bottom of the feeding chain. Trent knows she'll lick anyone's leftovers quicker than you can blink. What's the man thinking?"

Gracie didn't like the sound of Jo-Jo's tongue getting the chance to lick any part of Trent McKenzie's anatomy. She twisted around to see where Jo-Jo's tongue currently resided. "I can't see what they're up to. Give me a commentary, big man."

As they shuffled around the dance floor, Jordan kept his eyes plastered on his brother, and Gracie kept her ears plastered on Jordan.

"She's leaning forward and fluttering her eyelashes at him, like she's got an allergy or something."

Gracie grimaced at Jordan's description of Jo-Jo doing what she did best. It would have been funny if it hadn't been her man on the receiving end of those lashes.

"What's he doing?"

"Standing there like a man caught in the glare of headlights. Hang on a minute."

"What?" Gracie tugged on his arm to remind him he was supposed to be her eyes. "Spit it out. What's happening?"

"Trent's turning toward the door. It looks as though he's leaving."

Gracie almost didn't want to ask, but knew she had to. Too bad if it made her look desperate. A woman had to protect what was hers, well almost hers, if you discounted running out on your husband and telling him you wanted a divorce. In her books, that still counted as proprietary rights.

"Where's Jo-Jo?"

Jordan's shoulders relaxed as he moved to the right. "She's sidled over to Frank McCall. He'll keep her occupied for the rest of the night."

Gracie heaved a sigh of relief. Disaster averted. There'd be no licking on the Triple L tonight.

Trent jammed his hands in his pockets and walked across to his truck. Of all the dumb-ass things to do on a Saturday night, he had to pick the one bar Jordan had brought Gracie to. The ranch had seemed too lonely since she'd left. He'd been wandering around the house picturing Gracie in every room. Even his first wife hadn't confused him as much as Gracie did. In six weeks he'd turned into a messed-up fool, needing a female to make him feel good about himself. And damn his brother for taking Gracie out on the town. Whose side was he on, anyway?

He looked over his shoulder and reversed out of the parking lot. Gracie's pink suitcase sat on the backseat. He'd drop it off at his mom's place, but didn't want to run the risk of bumping into Gracie. So much for good intentions. He'd not only found her in a bar, but he'd nearly ended up on Jo-Jo Allen's menu.

Gracie hadn't seemed interested in the fact that Jo-Jo had designs on him. That really showed how much she was over their two-week marriage.

How much she'd gotten over him.

What she didn't know was that half of Bozeman happened to be on Jo-Jo's list of appetizers. Only the chosen few got to be main courses, and Jo-Jo had been after him since she'd first worn lipstick. He hadn't been interested then, and he wasn't interested now.

He turned right into Jackson Drive and glared at the red traffic lights. It was Saturday night in downtown Bozeman and here he was, a thirty-nine-year-old man, heading over to his mom's place for a cup of coffee and some company. How sad could life get?

"Trent McKenzie. Get your sorry ass down here before I kick it into the next galaxy!" Jordan stood at the bottom of the stairs, bellowing through the house.

Grabbing his watch off the bedside table, Trent nearly fell out of bed. One o'clock. What the hell was Jordan doing screaming at him at this time of the morning? Even the roosters were still asleep.

Trent thumped down the stairs two at a time. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out cavorting with my wife?" If Jordan wanted to pick a fight, then he'd better be prepared for the argument of the century. He'd had enough of people meddling in his life. First, his mother had paraded every single woman who still had her own set of teeth in his direction. And now his brother was working overtime, trying to get on the good side of his wife. Even Mrs. Davies was dropping not-so-subtle hints about missing Gracie.

Trent needed to get rid of some of the testosterone building in his bloodstream, and Jordan had put himself right in the firing line.

His brother stared at him like he'd turned into an insane fool. Maybe he had, but that was no reason to yell his house down at one o'clock in the morning.

"I didn't cavort with anyone," Jordan growled. "Gracie needed a bit of company, that's all. I've been trying to protect what should be yours before someone else gets in on the action. But you're obviously too thick-witted to realize just how special she is. And what were you doing with Jo-Jo? If you were hoping to convince Gracie you miss her, then you're living on another planet. All that stunt did was make her appreciate what a lucky escape she's had."

Trent pushed past his brother and headed toward the kitchen. He needed a cup of coffee. "Jo-Jo wasn't planned. She practically landed on top of me when I walked in the door." Grabbing a mug out of the pantry, he glared at his brother. "Gracie didn't seem the least bit upset that Jo-Jo was there, so why should you care?"

Jordan crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I care because you're my brother and you're making the biggest mistake of your life. What were you doing at Charlie's __ anyway? You never go out on a Saturday night."

Trent poured hot water into the coffeepot, nearly burning his hand in the process. "I thought I'd catch up with some friends. Is that all right with you or can't I have a social life?"

"You don't have a social life when you're married," Jordan roared. "You look after what's yours and keep your wife happy. Gracie is not a happy woman."

"She won't be my wife for much longer, you idiot," Trent slammed the refrigerator door closed. "Gracie's never been my happy-ever-after wife. She can do whatever she wants. No one, including me, has the right to stop her heading back to New Zealand. If she wants to make a love nest with some other sucker, that's her decision." He threw some milk into his cup, waited for the coffeepot, then took an almighty gulp of hot liquid. _"Damn."_

He rushed to the sink and grabbed an empty cup, filling it with cold water. He drank it faster than it spilled out of the faucet.

Jordan burst out laughing. "You've got it real bad. Gracie will always be a big part of your life, only you're too thick to see it."

"What are you talking about? If it weren't for the fact that she's staying with Mom, I wouldn't even know where she's living."

Jordan disappeared behind the refrigerator doors. "Thank goodness for Mrs. Davies. At least you've got decent leftovers." A plate of cold meat and a bag of bread ended up on the counter. "This is what we need. I'll make some sandwiches and you can tell your little brother all your troubles."

Jordan stacked slices of bread with meat.

Trent grabbed the salad and mayonnaise. If he had to talk about his non-existent love-life, he might as well eat in style. They could be here for a long time.

"How was your first day at school?" Karen stood at the kitchen counter, putting the finishing touches on a pie.

"I had a great time. The children were really pleased to see me and Gerald has a nice teaching style. The next two weeks should be fun. Do you want me to make a salad?"

Karen nodded at the refrigerator. "Everything you'll need is in there." She put the pie in the oven and turned on the coffeepot.

Gracie chopped some peppers and started deseeding a handful of grapes. "There's a new exhibition at the Crazy Horse Gallery next week. One of the teachers is exhibiting and gave me two tickets for opening night. What do you say we put on our bling and mix and mingle with the glitterati for the evening?"

"Sounds exciting." Karen took a sip of coffee and watched Gracie as she shredded the lettuce. "I know this is none of my business but, I need to say it, anyway. Trent seemed downright miserable when he dropped your suitcase off the other night. You haven't been looking all that happy yourself. In fact, looking at those dark rings under your eyes, I'd guess you haven't had much sleep over the last few days."

Gracie tucked her chin down, hoping Karen didn't spot the heat flaming across her face. She knew Karen meant well, but she didn't know the truth about her marriage. It wasn't sitting too well in Gracie's heart knowing she'd deceived Trent's family. She considered them good friends, and they only wanted the best for her and Trent.

She started to slice the tomatoes, then stopped. Maybe if Karen knew the truth about their marriage, she wouldn't feel so heartbroken that they'd parted company. "There's something I need to tell you."

Karen sat at the kitchen table, waiting for Gracie to continue.

This would be harder than she thought. "The thing is...Trent and I didn't get married because we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. I got a little tipsy and it just sort of...happened. We couldn't get a divorce right away, so we agreed to stay married until I found my father." Gracie waited for the shock to hit Karen's face. It didn't look as though she was shocked at all. Maybe she hadn't understood. "We don't love each other."

"Ah. Now _that_ I can disagree with." Karen sat forward. "I'd have to have half a brain not to know something wasn't right when you got back from Las Vegas. But until you came along, Trent wasn't interested in courting anyone. He was too busy managing the ranch." Karen patted the seat beside her. "Come and sit down."

Gracie reluctantly sat in the chair.

"The last few years have been hard on all of us. When his first marriage ended, Trent lost all interest in everything except the ranch. And when his daddy died, something inside of him broke, and he didn't know how to fix it. Trent and his father were like two peas in a pod. Sometimes when he laughs I'd swear Wayne was here, filling the room with happiness."

Karen rested her arms on the table. "Last year I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My two boys kept me going. It scared us all, but Trent took it the hardest. He got it into his head that he wanted a family. Anyone would think that I hadn't been trying for the last ten years to get him interested in the opposite sex. But he couldn't find the right woman. Until you, Gracie. I know my son, and that man loves you. Give him time to figure things out before you leave."

Tears welled in Gracie's eyes. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she tried to stop the quiver sweeping through her body. "It's no use. Trent doesn't love me." She took a deep breath. "I won't spend my last two weeks in Bozeman crying over a man who wants me in his life for all the wrong reasons."

Karen rubbed the top of Gracie's hand. "Apart from my wayward son, how's the rest of your visit been?"

A small smile tugged at her mouth. "Amazing. I hoped that I'd find my father, but I've found so much more."

"Life sometimes has a habit of working out just fine." Karen held her gaze. "Don't give up on Trent. He just needs a bit of time."

Gracie rose from the chair and kissed Karen's cheek. "Thanks for caring. Now I'd better finish the salad before I get fired by the boss."

Trent happened to need a few supplies from a store in Bozeman at around two thirty on Wednesday afternoon. Just to be considerate, he had a shower and threw on some clean clothes before making the trip into town.

Jake Stanley, the owner of Jake's Hardware, sniffed the air as he walked past. "I smell me a man on the path of true love."

Trent scowled. Jake had a sick sense of humor. "What's wrong with taking a bit of pride in my appearance?"

Jake hooted with laughter, "Pride? Who needs pride when they're mucking out the barn or driving cattle across miles of land? It's not pride that makes a man reach for the deodorant. It's love, that's what it is. A woman can tie a man up so bad he forgets he needs a certain amount of sweat to be manly." Jake puffed his chest out and thumped his hand on the counter. "Mark my words, Trent McKenzie. A good woman changes a man's life forever."

Trent took in the precision creases in Jake's shirt and the carefully trimmed hair sitting just above his collar. "Looks to me like you should know a thing or two about being tied up. That shirt sits perfectly on those shoulders of yours."

Jake beamed. "Got me a fine woman. Sometimes a man has to put up with the more genteel ways of the fairer sex in order to get the fringe benefits." Jake winked. "If you get my meaning."

Trent choked back a laugh. "Thanks. I got it loud and clear." Grabbing a coil of twine, he placed it on the counter. "Put this on my account and I'll see you next week."

Trent glanced at his watch as Jake zipped the barcode through the till. Quarter to three. Plenty of time to reach the school before the final bell rang. He figured if he was in Bozeman, he might as well take a quick detour and make sure Gracie was okay.

He threw the twine on the back of his truck and hoped they didn't have stalker patrol outside the school. He could get himself into serious trouble sitting in the street waiting for a glimpse of one of their teachers. A pretty little teacher with fiery red hair and a temper to match.

Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Trent watched the front entrance to the school. He'd spotted his Nissan sitting in the staff parking area fifteen minutes ago, so he knew Gracie must still be in the building.

Children in all shapes and sizes had come out the main doors ten minutes ago. And still no Gracie. Just when he'd almost given up, she walked into the sunshine beside a man who stood far too close. Before Trent knew what his legs intended, he'd jumped out of the truck and was heading straight toward them.

Gracie's head tilted up, __ laughing at something the guy said. A rope of muscle tightened in Trent's throat. The thought of his wife taking more than a casual interest in another man wasn't altogether pleasant.

Her blue gaze flicked across the grass, catching him mid-stride. "Trent? What are you doing here?"

He cleared his throat. Gracie looked so good he wanted to take her home. He soaked in every last inch of her, including the scowl plastered across her face. "You'll get permanent wrinkles with that bulldog look, honey."

Gracie spluttered, turning her back on him.

This wasn't working out how he'd imagined it.

"Richard, this rude man is Trent McKenzie. Trent, Richard."

He shook Richard's hand in a firm grip. Keeping his eyes locked on Gracie's face, he waited for her to make the first move.

She frowned, not looking too happy at his unexpected visit. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Richard. Thanks for lending me the books."

"No problem." Richard looked across at Trent. "Will you be all right, Gracie?"

Trent felt his hackles rise. Of course, she'd be okay. He'd been her husband for over three weeks. What did the guy think he'd do? Kidnap her?

"I'll be fine, Richard. Have a nice afternoon."

Trent watched Richard the Lionheart exit stage right. "Who's the human bodyguard?"

Gracie's eyes narrowed, her red hair practically frizzing on the spot. "He was looking out for me, Trent McKenzie." She unlocked the four-wheel-drive, dropping her books on the back seat. "You conveniently forgot to answer my question. What are you doing here?"

He should have gotten down on one knee and begged for her forgiveness. Even pledging his undying love would have helped smooth turbulent waters. But all that came out of his stunted brain was, "I had to come into town, so I thought I'd see how the Nissan's going."

Gracie slammed the door.

He cringed.

"Your vehicle's running fine. Now if you'll excuse me, your mom and I have a date to get ready for."

"A date? Why are you going on a date?" Trent's roar upset a flock of birds sitting in a tree. They screeched indignantly and flew into the air, a ripple of black feathers against the blue sky. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself down, but that only gave his brain time to catch up with his mouth.

"You've only been gone from the ranch for six days and you're going on a date? Who is he? Not that Richard guy, I hope?"

Gracie planted her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

At this rate, she'd be lining up for Botox by the time she turned forty.

"And what's wrong with me going on a date?" She asked. "I'm an almost single, no strings attached woman. I can do whatever I like."

His body wanted to explode. "No strings? What am I? A pasta noodle?"

Gracie gave him a sugar sweet smile that hid a heart of stone. "If only life were that simple. Goodbye."

Storming around to the driver's door, she revved the engine and nearly reversed over his foot. Darn fool woman would get one of them killed at the rate she was going.

He couldn't do anything else but follow her back to his mom's house. Saving other drivers from his whacky wife was the noble thing to do.

Noble his ass. He wanted to know more about the date she'd planned.

He pulled out of the parking lot, keeping a watchful eye on the truck speeding down the road. Who was he trying to fool? He'd already ruined what could have been a romantic reunion with his wife. Gracie didn't have a romantic bone in her body toward him. He'd be lucky if she ever spoke to him again.

Gracie watched the midnight blue truck overtake every vehicle behind her, then sit right on her tail.

Trent was delusional if he thought he could boss her around after she'd walked out on him. She slowed as she rounded the corner into Walnut Drive, indicating to turn into Karen's property.

Part of her hoped Trent had followed her to make sure she got to his mom's home safely. The other part...well, she wouldn't consider what that part wanted.

When she got out of her truck, Karen was on her hands and knees, weeding the front garden.

One look at Gracie's face must have been enough to warn Karen that something wasn't right. She looked down the driveway and frowned at her son. "Trent? What are you doing here?"

"What is it with you two? Can't a man visit his mom without feeling like he needs to make an appointment?"

Gracie walked toward the front door. "I'm going inside to get ready for the exhibition." She looked over her shoulder, hoping that Trent got the message and left.

"Just yell if you want me to scrub your back."

Gracie shot him a dirty look. Muttering unladylike things under her breath, she stomped into the house. She didn't know what she'd ever seen in the man. How could a girl fall in love with such an egghead?

Her vision blurred as she pulled the most insanely sexy dress she'd ever bought out of her closet. If ever a woman needed an outfit to bolster a flagging spirit, then this was it. And if Trent McKenzie happened to be around the house in thirty minutes, he'd better be prepared for life as he knew it to never be the same again.

Gracie ran her hands down the front of her dress, staring at the wanton hussy in her bedroom mirror. The strapless red gown pushed her not inconsiderable assets up and beyond the limits of her double-D bra. A healthy expanse of creamy skin sat provocatively above the tight bodice, casting a flirty shadow between her breasts. The floor length dress hugged her hips, cocooning her legs in a tight silk wrap. The skirt looked positively demure compared to the knock-out bodice. Until she moved, that is.

Gracie slipped on a pair of fire-engine red, five-inch heels made for seduction rather than comfort. When she took a step forward the concealed split on the right side of the gown opened to reveal a shameless expanse of leg. From the top of her thigh to the tip of her red painted toenails, Gracie was all woman.

Taking another look in the mirror, she smiled at her reflection. If she didn't know her exact height down to the last eighth of an inch, she'd have sworn she looked six feet tall.

She peeked out the curtains to see if Trent's vehicle was still parked in the driveway. One mud-splattered truck sat behind her truck.

Squaring her shoulders, she re-touched her lipstick, fluffed her hair and left the room. Gracie was ready to dice with the devil and the devil would lose.

Trent dug another hole in the ground. With the way his shovel plowed through the soil, you wouldn't think he'd spent the morning digging post holes on the ranch. He stepped back and his mom positioned a plant in the soft dirt.

Gracie was taking a long time to get herself ready for her date _._ And what was with his mom going along? Did she need a chaperone that badly?

After a bit of encouragement, his mom had mentioned that they'd made reservations for an early dinner. Then they were going to the grand opening of a new art exhibition. That didn't sound too wild. Gracie wouldn't be able to get up to too much mischief in a room full of arty types.

A couple of hours of intellectual conversation and creative chit-chat should bring her home at a reasonable time. If he had to camp out on his mom's couch to make sure Richard the Lionheart didn't take too long saying goodnight, he'd do it.

Trent turned at the sound of the screen door banging against its frame.

The shovel dropped to the ground and __ collided with his foot. _"Damn."_

His mom looked up from positioning a shrub in the hole. "Trent McKenzie, watch your language."

He didn't hear much else of what his mom said. The pain in his foot receded to a dull throb. He could have sworn he felt dribble skimming down his chin.

Gracie leaned against the doorframe in a flaming red silk dress. A blaze of heat roared through his sleep-deprived body. __ His breathing screamed to a shuddering halt and his blood surged as Gracie smiled.

"The shower's all yours, Karen. I'll wait for you inside."

His mom tried to hold back a grin as she dusted the dirt off the knees of her jeans. "Thanks, Gracie." She turned and looked at Trent. "Play nice or you'll have me to answer to."

He doubted she had anything to worry about on Gracie's behalf. He couldn't think beyond the curve of Gracie's breasts pushed up against the top of her dress. His mom should be more concerned about him if the gleam in his wife's eyes was anything to go by.

"Do you want a drink?" Gracie stood in the living room with a bottle of juice in her hand.

Trent's body told him he needed something stronger than vitamin C, but his brain told him he'd better stick to a non-alcoholic drink. He'd need all his wits about him with Gracie standing in front of him like a pint-sized Venus.

"Juice would be fine, thanks." He sat down, bouncing to his feet when Gracie walked back into the living room. His jaw went slack as his eyes zeroed in on the naked thigh sauntering toward him. Holy cow. No wonder Gracie needed a chaperone. That dress would pull in any single male within a hundred yards.

She needed more than his mom as chaperone tonight. She needed him. And he would be coming whether or not she liked it. Looking down at his jeans and black shirt he decided they'd spruce up pretty fine after a quick dab with a wet cloth. "What time does the art show start?"

Gracie gave him a suspicious stare. "About seven. Why?"

"I thought I might come along with you and Mom."

"You can't come. I've only got two tickets."

Their fingertips touched as Gracie passed him the glass of juice. A spark of heat shot through his body. _He must be getting desperate._

Gracie rubbed her hand on the side of her dress and scooted across the room.

"What about that Richard guy?" Trent asked. "Did he have his own ticket?"

"What are you talking about? I've got no idea whether he's got a ticket or not."

Trent glared at the split in the side of her dress. At least he could cross one male off his watch list. "It doesn't matter how many tickets you've got. Who's the artist?"

Gracie folded her arms under her ample cleavage, sending ripples of flesh toward the edge of her bodice.

Taking a long drink of his juice, he yanked his gaze up to her furious face. She wasn't leaving his mom's home without him glued to her side. A thick sweater zipped to her chin wouldn't be a bad idea either.

"Luallen Dempsey."

"Ha?"

"The artist, Trent. Luallen Dempsey is the artist exhibiting tonight."

Clearing his throat, he headed across the room and picked up the phone. "There's one good thing about small town life. I know just about everyone here."

"It won't do you any good. The tickets sold out last week."

"I'm sure Luallen will be able to find another ticket for an old classmate." He laughed at the evil glare Gracie sent him.

She walked toward the sofa, sat down, and crossed her legs. His tongue fell out of his mouth. A knowing grin slipped across her face and galvanized his brain into action.

Either he got an extra ticket for tonight or she wasn't moving from her seat.

At ten-thirty that night, Gracie sat perfectly still in the front seat of Trent's truck. She'd just been on the receiving end of one of the slickest manipulations she'd ever seen.

"That was nice of Diana to invite Mom out for coffee."

Gracie tapped her foot on the floor. "I didn't need to leave with you. I could have found my own way home."

"It's getting late. She must have been thinking about your beauty sleep. I'm a sucker for a good night's sleep as well."

Heat scorched along Gracie's skin. She knew a lot of things that Trent liked doing in bed. Sleeping didn't even make the top five.

She kept her gaze focused on the road. Her almost ex-husband had stayed squished to her side all night. You couldn't have passed a feather between their bodies as he introduced her to the people who had come to Luallen's exhibition. With the way he'd acted, no one would have known they were almost divorced.

"Did I tell you how good you look?"

Gracie held back a groan. "More than once." Halfway through the night, she'd regretted her choice of dress. It was easy being brave in front of a mirror. But she hadn't felt quite so confident with a six-foot human hunk machine plastered against her body. The dress was supposed to have been thirty minutes of payback time, not an evening of self-inflicted torture.

The front porch light of Karen's house loomed up ahead.

Trent parked on the curb. Gracie threw open the truck door. She wouldn't be left alone with him for one minute longer than she needed to be.

She grabbed a handful of skirt, pulling it above her knees so she could make a quick escape. "Thanks for the ride." Her feet hit the grass at a run and her five-inch heels sunk into the soft soil, tilting her body like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

Trent laughed.

"It's not funny." Gracie yanked her shoe out of the ground and wobbled as the other heel disappeared. Pulling her feet out of the offending shoes, she glared at Trent. So much for her quick getaway. He stood beside his truck, arms crossed, with a smile on his face that left her breathless. Trouble wasn't far away.

Bunching the hem of her dress in one hand and her shoes in the other, she headed toward the front door. She focused every last scrap of intelligence on getting the key in the lock and the door closed in Trent's face. Mr. McKenzie and his wandering hands could stay outside in the crisp evening air.

Gracie didn't hear him come up behind her, didn't feel his body against her skin until he hooked her under his arm, lifting her through the door like a football. "Trent McKenzie, you put me down right this instant before I sock you with my heels."

He grinned at the wiggling bundle in his arms. "You've got a lot to learn about this cowboy." He flipped her against his chest, making sure her feet weren't touching the ground.

Just as she started to let rip on another round of demands, his mouth covered hers in a hot and hungry kiss.

She didn't mean to kiss him back. She really didn't. But her body had a mind of its own and it wasn't listening to her anymore. Her mouth opened, starting its own greedy inspection of his soft lips and demanding tongue. Her legs wound around his waist, pushing against parts of his anatomy that showed her what he had on his mind.

Trent held her bottom, lifting her against his body, groaning as she made full use of the extra leverage.

Gracie let her hands wander. She needed to feel his hot skin beneath her palms, tease all the places that turned his body into liquid fire. As her mouth devoured his, her fingers undid the buttons of his shirt. Slipping her hands beneath the cotton, she sighed at the feel of his muscles bunching under her soft caress.

Gracie rubbed the tips of her fingers across his chest and Trent moaned. Only it wasn't the sound of a man in love. He sounded like a wounded animal.

Trent staggered backward, dropping her to the ground. _"Oww."_ Bending forward, he rubbed the back of his head.

Gracie blinked a few times and tried to work out what had happened. The coat stand beside Trent wobbled on its legs. "That was close," she whispered.

Trent gave his head another rub. "We could be closer." His voice washed across the room in a husky whisper.

Goosebumps broke out all over Gracie's body. Trent's eyes were almost pitch black, his breathing as shallow as hers. She stepped away from him. "I can't do this. I won't stay married to you because you want to add to your family tree. The thing that happens between us has to stop."

Trent's mouth snapped into a grim line. "This _thing_ has nothing to do with having children. Since when has sex ever needed to be anything more than sex?"

"Since you tricked me into marrying you so you could keep Jordan's hands off the ranch, that's when. You can forget about getting me all hot and steamy. Ripping up our divorce papers isn't going to happen." She stared at the nincompoop in front of her. "And talking about divorce papers, where are they?"

"I don't know. And why would I want to rip them up?" His voice matched her low roar. "A man would have to be half-dead to want to tie himself to a tease for the rest of his life."

Gracie's temper sizzled. " _Tease?_ Who are you calling a tease, Trent McKenzie? You didn't seem worried a minute ago when your tongue was dancing inside my mouth. Maybe you should go home and think about your definition of the word tease." Gracie threw the front door open. "On second thought, thinking's not what you do best. So why don't you just go home."

Trent's eyes were as cold as an arctic wind. He took one last look at her before heading toward his truck. Without a backward glance he started the engine and drove away.

Gracie stood in the open doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. She stared down the street long after Trent had gone, long after the last of her tears dried on her face. With a sinking feeling, she knew she wouldn't be seeing her husband anytime soon.

# Chapter 13

Gracie's head bounced off the headrest as Jordan drove like a maniac over a mountain trail. "Are you sure this surprise doesn't involve Trent?"

"Don't look so suspicious. In all the time you've known me have I ever lied to you?"

Gracie grabbed hold of the edge of the seat, bracing herself for another bone jarring jolt. "No," she muttered. "But I wouldn't put it past you to stretch the truth like a rubber band."

"I'm wounded."

"Yeah, right," Gracie snorted. "Not as wounded as my body. Your ranch has some amazing trails. Couldn't you have chosen another one?"

"This one will get you to your surprise the fastest. Hold on tight, Gracie girl. We've just about reached the end of this dip and then it's straight up."

Her body lurched to the left, straining against the seat belt. "Tell me again why I'm here and not enjoying the waffles your mom said she'd cook for me?"

"She offered to make both of us waffles. Just goes to show how much I enjoy your company when I'd give up Mom's breakfast for you."

"Or how much you're not telling me."

"That too." He grinned. "We'll be there soon."

Gracie glanced across the cab, trying to figure out why it had been so important for Jordan to drag her out of bed at the crack of dawn. For her last Saturday in Bozeman, she'd planned a quiet day of retail therapy, revisiting all her favorite stores.

Lumbering up the side of a mountain, even if it was an impressive mountain, wasn't part of her de-stress plan. In fact, her stress levels had rocketed out of control when she realized where Jordan was taking her. All week she'd kept herself busy, ducking for cover whenever anyone mentioned Trent's name. Now here she was, sitting beside his brother and driving over his land as if nothing had happened.

Jordan hadn't been kidding when he said they'd be going straight up. Her body pressed into the seat as the truck lurched forward, taking them higher than she'd ever been. She peered over Jordan's shoulder and closed her eyes real fast. She couldn't see the edge of the trail. Fluffy white clouds wouldn't cushion their fall if he drove them off the side of the mountain. And she didn't like the grin stretched across his face either.

"Tell me you're not leaving me here to commune with nature."

Jordan glanced across the cab.

"Keep your eyes on the trail," she squealed. They ran over something hard and lumpy, throwing the front of the truck into the air. Gracie held her breath, waiting to see if they landed on the dirt or halfway down the side of the mountain. The truck thumped to the ground.

Jordan hooted with laughter. "You've gone green, Gracie. I thought we might have roughed up those city slicker edges of yours by now."

"You'll get city slicker, Jordan McKenzie. If I'd known where you were taking me I never would have come."

"Why do you think I didn't tell you?" He rounded a bend and stopped the truck.

Gracie took a deep breath and unlocked her fingers from the edge of the seat. Daisy stood twenty feet away, saddled up and ready for a ride. Tears gathered in Gracie's eyes. "Maybe you're not so bad after all."

"Gee thanks. At least now you won't be tempted to rip me into shreds as soon as we leave the truck."

"You run too fast for me," Gracie joked. "This is really sweet. Thanks."

"Sweet my ass. We're here to move cattle. You'll earn every cramped muscle you'll have by the end of the day."

A huge grin spread across her face. A cattle drive. A real cattle drive. She'd finally be able to say that she'd qualified as a bonafide cowgirl. The smile on her face wobbled. "Your brother won't be happy when he finds out what we're doing."

"Wipe that frown off your face, little lady. You can't leave Bozeman without going on at least one roundup. It wouldn't be right. Besides, what Trent doesn't know, won't hurt him."

Gracie released her seat belt with a determined click. She wouldn't worry about Trent McKenzie and his stupid rules. Jordan was right. She needed to get in touch with all her reckless bones and start living dangerously again. Besides, by the time Trent found out about the cattle drive, she'd be long gone. Almost as far away from Montana as anyone could get.

Three hours later, Gracie pulled her cowboy hat off her head, letting the cool breeze fan her hot skin. Every inch of her body was covered in grit. Dust and dirt had worked its way inside her clothes, making her feel like a living, breathing sheet of sandpaper. But she wouldn't trade one minute of her time on the mountain for the air-conditioned comfort of Sandra Lee's Fashion Boutique.

Daisy's muscles rippled as they rode from one pasture to the next, shooing stray cattle back into the herd. She took a deep breath, wanting to hold on to everything happening around her.

Jordan had moved across to her right, keeping an eye on a renegade bull that had dogged Gracie's attempts to keep him with his buddies. Another cowboy, Jeb Baker, was on her left. Jeb had been looking after the cattle for the last week and would take her back to town, leaving Jordan to do his rotation. Jeb's wiry frame and sun-wrinkled face bore the mark of a man whose life had begun and would end on Montana soil.

He'd told Gracie that he'd been working with the McKenzie family for thirty-nine years. When she'd looked into his sun-bleached eyes, Gracie felt the raw energy of a man who knew his worth in the world and the worth of the land he loved.

She breathed in the musky odor of the cattle and caught her breath at the incredible view surrounding them.

From halfway up the mountain the fields looked like an antique patchwork quilt, stitched together with fence posts and wire. Emerald green squares brushed shoulders with areas lightly dusted in purple flowers. The pale glow of dried hay disappeared under clouds of dust, and the huge hay baling trucks looked like black dots on the fabric of the land.

She'd miss this when she left. Miss the characters that made Bozeman unique, miss the people that had opened their homes and hearts to her. The thought of never seeing the Triple L or one stubborn, opinionated male again made her heart ache.

"Lunchtime, Gracie."

She rode across to Jordan, slipping off Daisy's back like a seasoned pro. It wasn't until her feet hit the ground that she groaned.

Jordan watched her rub her legs. "You're doing a great job for a greenhorn. We'll have to hire you as the first ever cowgirl on the Triple L."

"You'd have to ask Trent first and he wouldn't agree."

"You might be surprised." Jordan passed her a sandwich out of a bag strapped to his saddle.

Jeb rode across the meadow, heading toward the cattle.

"Where's Jeb going?" Gracie asked.

"Back to keep an eye on things. Wolves attacked the ranch across from ours last week. They got six of their heifers down before they scared the pack off. It's put us all on high alert for any renegade groups prowling the mountains."

Gracie swallowed the mouthful of sandwich she'd been chewing. "I thought wolves only hunted at night?"

"Nope. Wolves can be a real problem. They hunt day and night in packs that attack faster than you can blink. Some years are worse than others."

"Is this one of the bad years?"

Jordan nodded. "You can't go anywhere near them, Gracie."

"Is that why you and Jeb have a gun on your saddles?"

"Yep."

Gracie thought about the cowboys left on the mountain alone and what they would do if a pack of wolves attacked.

"Did Trent tell you about the plans we've got for the Triple L?" Jordan asked.

"Trent and I aren't on speaking terms. We had an argument last week and I haven't seen him since."

"That might explain why he's been yelling at everyone."

Gracie didn't want to know what Trent had been doing. He was probably grumpy because he'd been out cavorting with his bridal candidates and needed more beauty sleep.

"What plans have you been working on?"

"An architect came and looked at the old barn. She reckons we can convert it into a bunkhouse without too much bother. We'll be able to sleep about a dozen guests at a time. Trent wasn't keen on the dude ranch concept, so we looked at other options. A few of our neighbors have set up working ranch experiences for paying guests. The people staying with us will help with real work, depending on the season, and learn about what we're doing to conserve the land."

Gracie's jaw went slack. "But he thought it was the worst idea he'd ever heard. That's why he..." Gracie closed her mouth before she got into more trouble.

With a twinkle in his eye, Jordan said, "I know why he wants children. He thought I'd run the ranch into the ground. It's taken some time, but he's finally learning there's more than one way to keep the ranch running at a profit. Once we've renovated the barn, I'll be in charge of looking after the guests who come here."

Gracie reached for her water bottle. "That sounds exciting."

"Man. You two are made for each other."

"What do you mean?"

"Neither of you are willing to admit you're wrong. You should talk to Trent before you head back to Wellington. Just don't flash those baby blues at him. They can be mighty distracting to a man on the edge of reason."

Gracie threw her lunch wrapper into a bag of trash. She wouldn't be going anywhere near Trent before she headed home. As far as she was concerned, he could find someone else to play happy families with.

The sound of bellowing cattle filled the air. Gracie stopped, listening to the panicked cries. The land shook as the herd thundered across the ground, churning a dust-cloud high into the sky.

Jordan surged to his feet.

A gunshot tore through the chaos, making Gracie's blood run cold.

Jordan grabbed her hand and ran toward their horses. He hauled her onto Daisy's back before vaulting onto his own horse. "Stay right beside me. And whatever you do, don't move unless I move."

Another shot rang out.

Gracie's heart slammed against her ribs as they raced to the terrified cattle.

Jordan swore when he saw Jeb's horse limping toward them. Jeb clung to the saddle, holding his rifle across his legs as he tried to soothe the terrified animal.

"We got hurt," Jeb growled. "A pack of wolves came through the trees, attacking the cattle. A couple of them had a go at Trixie before I got off two shots. I scared them away, but they got one of the calves."

Gracie looked at Jeb's leg. A gaping wound ran from above his knee to the top of his boots, oozing a river of blood down his jeans.

Jeb saw where she was staring. "Just a scratch, ma'am." He looked across at Jordan. "I'm not leaving Trixie."

Jordan tossed a first aid kit across to Gracie. "I'll help you off Trixie, Jeb. We need to get that blood stopped."

Gracie jumped off Daisy. Taking a deep breath, she tried not to faint at the sight of so much blood. She didn't need to look very hard to see bone beneath the tangle of sliced flesh. She focused on Jordan's hands, wrapping pressure bandages around the raw wound.

"We need to make a splint for Jeb's leg, Gracie. Have a look around for a couple of straight sticks, but stay where I can see you."

She found a couple of thin branches a few feet away. Jordan stripped the wood bare with his knife, then bound the branches to Jeb's leg with extra bandages. He stood up, staring at the trees in the distance.

Reaching for his gun, he handed it to Gracie. "Do you remember how to use the rifle?"

She nodded. Most days when Jordan had taken her for a ride in the mountains, they'd finished the day at an area he used for target practice. She wouldn't win any shooting competitions, but she knew how to reload and shoot a gun.

"We've got to cover the calf to stop the ravens from circling. We don't want more wolves or grizzlies coming this way." Jordan pulled a black tarpaulin out of Jeb's supplies. "I need you to watch my back."

He looked down at Jeb's pale face. "Keep your gun handy. We'll be back soon."

They rode across to where the calf had been attacked. Gracie's eyes followed a spray of blood seeping into the hard-packed earth. The calf hadn't stood a chance against the feeding frenzy that had attacked it. She gagged at the smell, heaved even more when she saw the pool of deep red blood under the mutilated corpse.

Daisy stomped her feet, shaking Gracie out of the shock pounding through her body. Her gaze skimmed the fields around them, picked through each pine tree on a ridge not far from where they were standing.

"How are you doing, Gracie?"

"Okay. Just hurry." She watched Jordan wrap the plastic sheet around what was left of the calf. With one last look at the mountain, he got back on his horse and they rode to Jeb.

"I have to get help now, Gracie. There's no cell phone coverage this high, so you have to stay with Jeb. Listen to what he says and don't move from his side. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Gracie tried to stop shaking. Quivering like a nervous wreck wouldn't help anyone and Jeb needed help fast. His skin was pale and sweat coated the hard planes of his face. Tightening her legs, Gracie felt the strength of Daisy's muscles under her body. Everything would be okay. Jordan would get help and then they could get Jeb to the hospital.

"You'll be fine, Gracie. Use the rifle if you need to."

She took a shuddering breath, then pulled her spine straight. "Go and get help. We'll be waiting for you."

Trent had been unloading a truckload of wood when he got the call from Jordan. A wolf attack was bad enough. When Jordan told him Jeb had been injured and Gracie was on the mountain, his heart had plummeted. He'd run so fast across the yard that he'd nearly scared Mrs. Davies half to death. He'd started making calls, putting into practice the routine they'd worked out many times before.

One of his neighbors, Steve Douglas, would be arriving in the next few minutes with his helicopter. Steve would take Gracie and Jeb to the hospital, while Trent stayed to keep the remaining cattle safe.

All of the ranchers surrounding his property had been called, warning them to be on guard against a wild pack of wolves. The cowboys on the Triple L were getting horses saddled up ready to head into the mountains, and a vet was on her way to do what she could for Jeb's horse. As Trent walked toward the back field, he called the Forest Service to get someone on the ranch to verify the wolf attack.

The next twenty-four hours would be long and hard. He cursed his brother's stupidity at taking Gracie into the mountains. Jordan knew about the wolf attacks, but he'd still gone ahead, not using his brain beyond telling his mouth what to say. He prayed that Gracie and Jeb were okay.

As soon as he spotted the white helicopter in the sky, Trent raced across to their meeting point. Waiting by the fence, he checked his rifle for the last time and took a deep breath. They'd done what they could to keep everyone safe. Now he needed to see Gracie.

Trent spotted the herd of cattle grazing on the western ridge. Steve landed the helicopter and they both ran over to Jeb and Gracie. Trent had never been so glad to see anyone in his life. "Are you all right?"

Gracie nodded as she handed him Jordan's rifle. "I'm fine, but Jeb's leg needs to be looked at by a doctor. I've bandaged Trixie's wound as best I could to stop the bleeding."

Trent put the gun down and hauled her against his chest. He buried his face in her hair. Gracie was okay, but Jordan wouldn't be so lucky when he got hold of him.

He kissed Gracie's lips hard before he let her go to check on Jeb.

"Glad to see you've got your priorities right, boss." A tight grin crossed Jeb's pale face. "This little lady and your brother probably saved my life."

"The wolf sliced his leg clean to the bone." Gracie shuddered at the dried blood coating Jeb's boots. "Trixie got bitten on her back leg."

Trent watched Gracie's small hands flutter to her waist. He hugged her shoulders and then bent down to talk with Jeb. "Steve will fly you and Gracie to the hospital." When Jeb tried to interrupt, he stopped him. "That wasn't a question, it was an order. I'll stay and look after Trixie until Jordan gets back. Then I'll walk her down to the vet, load her in the horse trailer and bring her home to the Triple L."

Jeb looked him in the eye. "I don't think her wound's too bad. You look after Trixie, boss."

Trent gave him an equally level stare. "You know I will." Trent nodded to Steve, and together they lifted Jeb into the helicopter while Gracie stayed with Trixie.

After Jeb was ready for the flight, Trent ran back to Gracie. "Your turn, honey. I'll be back at the ranch later tonight. Will you do me a favor?"

Gracie looked up at him, her blue eyes full of raw emotion. He wanted to pick her up and hold her close, not send her miles away. "When you get back from the hospital, stay at the ranch. Please."

She nodded. Trent hugged her again before she ran to the helicopter with Steve. She got on board, leaving the mountain and leaving him.

Trent's hand shook as he rubbed Trixie's head. He could have lost Gracie today, and that scared him more than the danger of a renegade pack of wolves. He rubbed his arm across his face, watching the helicopter disappear into the distance. Gracie was an important part of his life.

He wasn't letting her board a plane to New Zealand without putting up the biggest fight of his life.

Trent arrived back home a little after eleven o'clock that night. After he'd made it off the mountain he'd headed straight into Bozeman to check on Jeb.

Kicking off his boots, he sat down heavily on the wooden bench in the mudroom. For the last two years, they'd been lucky not to have had a wolf attack. Today they'd not been so lucky.

He shrugged out of his jacket. The trappers and the vet would be back first thing tomorrow. He'd need to keep in touch with the men watching the cattle, as well as finish the other jobs that couldn't be left. Rubbing his eyes, he knew Sunday would be another long day.

He could hear someone fussing in the kitchen. His heart raced at the thought of Gracie in the next room.

"Is that you, Trent?"

He breathed deeply. Mrs. Davies appeared in the doorway.

"You look exhausted, Trent. I put a meal aside for you. Do you want me to reheat it in the microwave?"

Trent shook his head. "Not at the moment, thanks. Did Gracie stay?"

"She's upstairs, sound asleep. Steve dropped her back after they'd seen to Jeb. The poor girl looked ready to drop on her feet. She had a big bowl of soup and a hot bath before she went to bed."

"Thanks for your help today." He leaned his head against the wall. "I don't know how we could have done it without you coordinating the troops down here."

A faint blush stained Mrs. Davies' cheeks. "It was no trouble. Your mom arrived about an hour after you left. Between the two of us, we bossed the men around without too much difficulty."

Trent managed a tired smile.

"How are Jeb and Trixie?"

"Jeb's got a track of stitches down his leg, but the doctors don't think there's any permanent damage." He yawned. "Trixie had the wolf bite cleaned and re-bandaged. The tetanus shot and the first dose of antibiotics didn't go down well, but I think that's because Jeb wasn't there."

Mrs. Davies kissed his cheek. "You did well today. I'm going to bed now. Your mom said to tell you she'll be here tomorrow morning to give you a hand."

"Thanks."

Mrs. Davies left, and Trent dragged himself toward the stairs. Two weeks of tossing and turning had finally caught up with him. He needed a shower, and he needed sleep.

He'd dealt with the wolf attack as best he could. Tomorrow would be soon enough to talk to Gracie.

By the time he'd finished in the bathroom, the moon had climbed high in the sky. There was enough light coming through the windows to find his way to the bed and sink into its softness. Trent slipped between the cool sheets and sighed. He stretched his tired muscles and nearly leaped out of bed.

_Holy crap._

Gracie had tucked herself into a little ball under the duvet. She was so tiny he hadn't seen her body curled up on the side of the bed. If she'd been asleep before, she wasn't now.

"Hi, Trent." Her sleepy voice drifted across to him.

He sat up, leaning on one elbow. "How are you feeling?"

Gracie rubbed her eyes and turned toward him. "I'm feeling better." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I was really scared. The cattle were terrified, and Jeb's leg was a mess. I've never been happier to see a helicopter in my life. How are Jeb and Trixie doing?"

Trent's eyes drifted over the shape of her body, half in shadow from the moon. "Jeb's still in the hospital. The doctor said you did a good job of stopping the blood loss. He'll be there for a few more days. Trixie's bandaged up and full of antibiotics. She should be fine."

Gracie stretched and yawned.

"Nice T-shirt."

"Is it okay that I borrowed it? I didn't have any spare clothes here."

"Take whatever you want. I'm just pleased you're not hurt." Trent rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing in my bed?"

Gracie paused before answering. "I was worried the wolves would come back for you. I tried to sleep in my room, but I couldn't. So I came in here."

If he reached across and touched Gracie's face, he knew he'd feel the heat of a blush staining her cheeks. He sat still, waiting for her to continue.

"If you want me to go back to my room, I'll go. I just wanted to make sure you were safe."

Trent swallowed the lump gathering in his throat. If he didn't tell Gracie how he felt about her, he might never get the chance.

He rolled onto his side, wondering where he should start. "I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to blurt it out. If I get things mixed up, don't worry about it. The thing is...well...I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you. I loved you before we got married, only I was too thick-headed to realize it. There's no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Trent swallowed. Not a whisper of sound came from Gracie's side of the bed. "You haven't gone to sleep, have you?"

"No. I'm still awake."

Trent peered at the outline of her body. He could have sworn he heard a laugh in her voice. "You're not laughing are you, Gracie?"

"Who me?"

She was definitely laughing at him now.

Trent groaned. He'd just declared his love to the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and she was laughing at him. "Fine. Laugh away." He rolled onto his back, scowling at the ceiling. "You wouldn't be laughing if the love of your life nearly got mauled by a pack of wolves."

"I didn't get mauled," she hiccupped. "I'm laughing because I'm happy."

A mound of duvet rose in the air and a ball of cotton landed against his chest. A very warm and wiggly ball. Trent wrapped his arms around Gracie's body and held on tight. She relaxed against him, resting her cheek against his chest. He could feel her breath against his skin, stirring his body into life.

She wiggled her bottom.

A groan rumbled through his chest. "Keep still you little minx. I've got something to ask you."

Trent clamped his hands on her hips. She wasn't listening.

"I want you to marry me again. Here, on the ranch, in front of our family and friends. I want you to be part of my life forever."

Gracie stopped moving. He could almost feel her mind working overtime.

She pushed up on her arms, staring down at him. "Is this about you wanting a family so Jordan doesn't run wild?"

Trent nudged a lock of hair over her ear, tracing the side of her face with his fingertips. "I love you. I'd give up the ranch if it helped you believe me. The ranch means nothing if you're not part of my life. Before Dad passed away, he told me a man needs the love of a good woman to make his life complete. And he was right."

Gracie slid her bottom along his body. "Not too good I hope."

Trent groaned. "We can always negotiate the terms."

Gracie rolled off his body, flipping onto her back.

Trent gazed at her silhouette. "So is that a yes or a no?"

"Jordan told me about the plans to create a working ranch experience. I think it's a great idea."

"Gracie, will you marry me or not?" He was worried. More than worried. He was terrified she didn't love him enough to spend the rest of her life with him.

"And he's really excited about managing the project."

He didn't know where this conversation was going, but he'd bet it didn't have much to do with wedding bells. And it would have even less to do with a long night that didn't involve much sleep.

"What made you change your mind?"

"Can't we talk about this later, Gracie?"

She poked a finger in his ribs.

He took that as a no. "Jordan's idea makes sense and he's a natural around people. He knows what he wants to achieve and he'll get there." Trent heard Gracie moving. At least she was moving toward him, and not out the far side of the bed. That had to be a good sign. Maybe.

She snuggled up to him and whispered in his ear, "So, cowboy. Do you want to get married next month before you turn forty, or the following month when you're practically ancient?"

Trent let out his breath and hauled Gracie close. He groaned as she moved her hand along parts of his anatomy that weren't showing any signs of old age. "I go for the young stud time frame. Does that give your friends enough time to come across for the wedding?"

"Are you kidding? My friends have the market covered on unexpected events." Her fingertips did more wandering. "You could always be my partner at the wedding I'm going to in New Zealand."

Trent's breath caught in his throat as Gracie's lips joined in the exploration of his body. "I'll have to sweet talk Jordan and see..." He groaned. "Honey, if you keep doing that we'll be going nowhere for the next couple of weeks."

A chuckle drifted up from under the duvet. "I don't think you'll have any problems with Jordan. Now, what were you saying about young studs?"

Trent hauled her up his body, pushing her onto her back. Rubbing his lips along her jaw, he whispered, "I love you, Gracie McKenzie."

"Love you too, cowboy." Gracie reached up and gently kissed his lips. "For real and forever."

* * *

**THE END**

# Thank you

Thank you for reading ****_Forever Dreams. ****_ I hope you enjoyed it! If you did...

  1. Help other people find this book by **writing a review.**
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* * *

Keep reading for a preview of **_Forever in Love,_ **Nathan and Amy's story, available now!

* * *

To discover what happens to Grace and Trent eighteen months after they were married, read **_Forever Santa!_**
[ ![A Baby. A man. A secret.
            Amy Sullivan's life might have been lonely but it was safe - until she found a baby on her doorstep. With her alcoholic mother gone, and a five-month-old sister to look after, Amy has no choice but to give her sister what she never had - a family - and that means moving back to Montana and the only man she's ever loved.
            Nathan Gray is as pleased to see Amy as a bear with a splinter in its paw. Nine years earlier she left him faster than a howling nor'wester and now, burnt and broken after a barn fire, he has even more reason to keep his distance. Only this time fate and a meddling family have other ideas and their lives are about to come crashing down. Right on top of each other.
            Forever in Love is the second book in the Montana Brides series and can easily be read as a stand-alone. All of Leeanna's series are linked. If you find a character you like, you could find them in another story!](images/foreverinlove_cvr.jpg) ](http://www.leeannamorgan.com/forever-in-love.html)

**_Forever in Love_**

**_Montana Brides, Book 2_**

Amy Sullivan's life might have been lonely but it was safe, until she found a baby on her doorstep. With her alcoholic mother gone, and a five-month-old sister to look after, Amy has no choice but to give her sister what she never had - a family - and that means moving back to Montana and the only man she's ever loved.

* * *

Nathan Gray's life has turned upside down and the last person he wants to see is Amy Sullivan. Nine years earlier she left him faster than a howling nor'wester and now, burned and broken after a barn fire, he has even more reason to keep his distance. Only this time fate and a meddling family have other ideas and their lives are about to come crashing down. Right on top of each other.

* * *

Keep reading for a preview of **_Forever in Love,_ **Nathan and Amy's story, available now!

# Chapter 1

"What the heck?" Nathan dropped his pen and stared through the window of his father's office. The half-light of dusk painted the Montana ranch in a soft pink glow, almost picture-perfect if it weren't for the blue pickup truck roaring down the gravel driveway. Its horn cut through the still evening air, tapping out a tuneless masterpiece that set his trouble radar humming.

He grabbed his jacket and headed toward the front door, wondering what mischief his sister had gotten up to this time.

Sally stopped her truck, leaping out of the cab before he'd made it off the porch.

"What's wrong?" he asked, not trusting the grin plastered across her face.

"Nothing's wrong."

Nathan had seen that smile too many times over the last twenty-seven years not to know something was going on.

"Guess who I've got in the truck?"

Nathan glanced at the tinted windows. Sally had a soft spot for strays, and she'd brought home more tourists and animals than anyone else he knew. Last time she'd said those words his parents had ended up playing host to a family from Los Angeles. They'd been looking for an authentic cowboy vacation. It hadn't occurred to Sally that her parents might not want to show off their sprawling cattle ranch to city-slickers, or that they'd come smack bang in the middle of calving.

But then Sally didn't often think beyond the first impulsive idea that streaked through her brain.

He walked across the yard. "You know Mom and Dad won't be back for another week, so you'd better make other arrangements."

"You're such a grump." Sally spun toward the truck as the passenger door opened. "Ignore him. He's having a mid-life crisis."

A snort of laughter filled the air. A ladylike snort that reminded him of someone he knew. A blonde head appeared, pitching his heart into the soles of his boots.

"Amy? What are you doing here?" A long time ago she'd brushed him out of her life faster than a mosquito buzzing around her head. Cold, heartless and so damn fast he hadn't seen it coming. His parents and sister were the only people alive who could convince her to come back and visit – and that hadn't been often.

Sally poked him in the ribs. "That's a great welcome for someone you haven't seen in ages."

"You didn't tell him?" A blush as red as the setting sun washed across Amy's face.

"I thought Mom would have, but he's here now. You tell him."

Amy's gaze skimmed across the ranch and settled on Nathan's face. He yanked the collar of his jacket higher, the warm sheepskin protecting him from the bitter wind and questions he didn't want to answer.

"I'm moving back to Bozeman," Amy said. "Your mom and dad offered me a place to stay until I find somewhere to live."

Nathan went perfectly still. Memories of her last visit tumbled through his head, leaving him confused, worried and angrier than he had a right to be. "I thought you liked living in Chicago. What changed your mind?"

Sally moved to the back of the truck. "Save the questions for later, Nathan. I want to get everything unloaded while there's still some daylight left." She flipped the tailgate open and stared at the bags. "Besides, we've got more in here than two hot women and a mountain of suitcases."

His sister had outdone herself this time. He waited for the sound of a dog barking or a cat screeching. "You didn't stop at the animal shelter, did you?"

"I'm trying to keep away. Dad said if I brought him another dog that's afraid of cows he'd make me come home and look after it." Sally pushed a suitcase into his chest. "Make yourself useful and take this inside."

Amy opened the back passenger door. "I'll help in a minute. I need to get Catherine out first."

"Who?" Nathan stared at Amy. He looked at Sally. Who was Catherine?

Amy pointed to the backseat.

He moved around the truck. A little girl was nearly asleep in her car seat. "You've got a baby?" She had Amy's blonde hair and pixie nose, and if he wasn't mistaken, her heavy lids were closing on the same chocolate brown eyes.

Sally cleared her throat. "Are you going to stand there gawking or help us unload everything?"

He glared at his sister. He felt like he'd been sucker punched. A baby. When had Amy ever let a man get close enough to create the ball of pink cotton-candy in the car seat? She'd nearly scratched his eyes out the last time he'd seen her. Then she'd run hundreds of miles away, back to Chicago. And, looking at the baby, straight into the arms of another man.

Amy leaned inside the truck, unbuckling the safety harness. He pulled his gaze away and walked toward the house, holding her suitcase in a death grip. No wonder she hadn't sounded happy about coming back. Amy had always dreamed big and nothing in Bozeman could ever make those dreams come true. And none of those dreams had ever included a baby.

He pushed the front door open, dreading the next few days. Why did she have to arrive now? He didn't need another set of females upsetting the routine he'd gotten himself into. Eat, sleep, moan some, then groan some more. There wasn't anything or anyone alive that could better the self-pity he'd hidden behind over the last few months.

But if his parents wanted Amy to stay on the ranch then that was up to them. He'd treat her the same as any other guest. He'd be Polite. Respectful. Courteous. All the things that had been drummed into him over the years.

He stacked the bags in the hallway and straightened his shoulders. He wouldn't make a big deal out of her arrival. Not this time.

Amy walked toward him with Catherine tucked in her arms. "I wouldn't have come unless I needed to."

"I already guessed that."

A flash of emotion streaked across her face. He couldn't tell if it was anger or regret. Amy's chin tilted in the air. Even with her don't-mess-with-me attitude she looked exhausted. The dark rings under her eyes almost swallowed her face whole. But she hadn't lost her grit.

After the last time they'd seen each other he'd begun to think the woman he'd once known didn't exist. But beneath her cool exterior, the real Amy Sullivan hadn't disappeared, and something inside him melted.

"Catherine's my half-sister."

His mouth dropped open. "When did that happen?"

"About ten months ago, give or take a few weeks."

He waited for her to tell him why she was looking after her sister and where her mother had gone. Amy's scowl told him she wouldn't be talking anytime soon.

"Where would you like us to sleep?"

Nathan didn't know. He'd finished work on the ranch an hour ago, just as his brothers were leaving for a night on the town. Matthew had yelled something over his shoulder about Sally. But before he could ask him what he'd said, his brother had dived into Sean's truck and taken off at break-neck speed down the driveway.

His sister stomped up the porch steps.

"Where's Amy sleeping?" he asked.

"Mom got Liam's old room ready before she left. Don't look so shocked, Nathan. We're quite capable of organizing our lives while you're busy on the ranch."

"I haven't been that busy," he growled. He couldn't believe his family had kept this little gem of information from him. He'd been staying at his parents' home for the last month and no one had bothered to mention Amy's arrival. Or the fact that she had a baby sister.

Amy moved Catherine onto her other hip, flicking her gaze in the general direction of his chest. "I'll put Catherine in bed, then come and give you a hand." She walked inside and left him staring into space.

He had a feeling he'd be doing a lot more of that before she left the ranch.

Sally stood beside him, frowning through the open door. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"And?"

"And nothing." He headed across to the pickup. Sally followed him, her gaze tearing through his shirt, studying every movement of his body like the never-ending team of doctors that had poked and prodded him until he'd been ready to scream. "I won't fall down after moving a couple of bags."

"It's not your back I'm worried about."

"I can look after myself." He ignored the sympathy on his sister's face, ignored everything except the bite of the nor'wester cutting across the yard.

Sally caught up with him and touched his arm. "I was supposed to tell you about Amy, but I didn't want you to leave. If it's too much, I'll move back into town and she can stay with me."

"And then Mom and Dad will be on the phone telling me I'm not looking after you."

"I'm not a baby," she huffed. "I'm an adult. You don't need to know what I'm doing every second of the day."

"Tell that to Dad." Nathan took a deep breath. "Amy and her sister can stay here for as long as they like. It won't make any difference to me."

Sally looked about as convinced as he felt. He walked inside with another bag, cursing a sister who thought she knew what was best for him.

His footsteps slowed as he reached the top of the stairs. He listened to Amy's voice as she sung a soft lullaby into the quiet house. The melody wove a gentle spell over his tired body, made him almost forget how long it had been since he'd seen her. He smelled honeysuckle and orange blossom. The same scent that had driven him crazy the last time she'd stayed on the ranch.

He stuck his head around an open doorway. Catherine lay on the floor, giggling as her little legs spun in the air like windmills. Amy sat beside her, unguarded laughter shining on her face. He'd forgotten what she looked like when joy snuck up on her, filling all the sad places with pure happiness.

He knocked softly on the wooden door and two pairs of brown eyes swiveled toward him. "I've got your carry-on. Are there any other bags you need up here right away?"

Amy stood up, reaching for her bag. "This will be fine. I'll get the others later." Her fingers hooked the long strap over her hand. Unzipping a side pocket, she pulled out a clean diaper and a tube of cream. "Can you keep an eye on Catherine while I get a warm washcloth?"

He looked down at the baby. An angelic grin lit her face and an answering smile pulled at his lips. "Sure. No problem." If he could drive a herd of cattle into the mountains, he could look after one little girl for thirty seconds. Catherine giggled, batting her dark lashes straight at him. He blinked back. The male population didn't stand a chance if those fluttering lashes were already part of her DNA.

"I won't be long." Amy disappeared down the hallway.

He stayed where he was. If he bent down to play with Catherine, it would take him ten times longer to get back on his feet. Ten times longer and a whole lot more pain that he didn't need.

Catherine looked up at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Her legs moved with purpose. Twisting her hips, she flipped onto her belly, giggling at being so clever. In two seconds flat she pulled herself onto her knees and took off across the room toward his legs.

His gaze shot around the doorway, desperate for something to throw in her way before she scooted between his legs. Her lips puckered into a determined grin. Sensing victory, her gaze zeroed in on the open space between his red socks.

He pulled his legs together. She swerved, heading left. He sidestepped into her path. She stopped, the blonde fuzz on top of her head nudging his legs. He stood still, praying Amy got back before Catherine dodged his legs and headed straight for the doorframe. He didn't want her knocking her head against the wood. She might hurt herself. And cry. And he'd look like a fool, outmaneuvered by a baby with high powered pistons trying to make the great escape.

He looked over his shoulder. Maybe Amy hadn't been able to find a washcloth? Catherine made a noise. He felt something grab his toes. His gaze shot back to the floor. She'd scooted onto her bottom and her fingers were plucking his socks. He wiggled his toes and a giggle filled the room. She lunged for his feet, grabbing the top of his sock with her fingers. A handful of red cotton nearly made it into her mouth.

"She's got a thing for feet."

Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. The cavalry had arrived. "So I noticed." He slowly wiggled his sock free of Catherine's determined fingers, but she had other ideas. Her little face, as sweet as apple pie two seconds ago, twisted into a scowl before she let rip with a wail that would have stopped his dogs in their tracks.

Amy ignored the outburst. She passed him the washcloth and towel, picked her sister up and took her across to the bed pushed against the far wall. "Could you open the towel on the bed?"

Towels he could do. As many as she needed.

Before Catherine got a chance to suck another lungful of air into her body, Amy had her bulging diaper off her bottom. A quick flick of the washcloth, a pat down to dry her skin, a smear of cream, and she was done. While Catherine stared bemusedly up at him, Amy opened a clean diaper and fastened it around her waist. He wasn't often impressed, but that had to be one of the slickest moves he'd ever seen.

Amy hunted through her carry-on, pulling out an empty bottle. "I'll take Catherine down to the kitchen and make some formula for her. Thanks for your help."

He hadn't done much, but still...the tired smile on her face had to be better than the scowl she'd aimed at him earlier. A man would have to be mad not to accept the olive branch dangling in front of his nose. "I don't know a lot about little children," he muttered, "but I know about calves. They've got to have something in common." Especially babies with big brown eyes and lashes long enough to throw soft shadows against their cheeks.

Amy shook her head. "Tell me that in another week's time." She walked past him and headed downstairs.

Nathan followed them both out of the room. He stopped on the landing, a sinking feeling anchoring him to the floor. He'd come a long way in the last few months, but Amy's arrival made him feel as raw and vulnerable as he'd been after the barn fire. He knew as surely as the next breath he took that he didn't want her here, sharing a part of his life she'd deliberately left behind. He didn't need her pity or the questions that would be left unanswered. He didn't want her to see the changes in his life or the man he had become.

Where had that thought come from? Since when did he care what anyone thought of him? He lifted his hand to the side of his face, rubbing his fingers across the raised web of scars marking him for life.

It looked as though he cared more than he thought he did.

The wooden stairs creaked under Amy's feet. Catherine swayed in her arms, sleep all but forgotten. Her sister's gaze flicked from the ceiling to the walls, taking in everything around her.

Amy held onto the banister, feeling the strength of wood that had been worn as soft as satin from generations of hands running along its surface. This home gave Nathan and his family more than warmth and shelter. It had been their refuge when times were hard. A place to celebrate new life and new beginnings. For Amy, it had been her sanctuary.

She could feel Nathan's resentment as he stood above her. Holding Catherine a little tighter, she braced herself against the emotions pounding through her body. Nine years ago she'd wanted to be an important part of his life. She'd almost convinced herself that she could be close to him and not remember what had brought her to Bozeman in the first place.

It didn't take long to realize that the only person she was fooling was Nathan. So she'd packed her bags and left, turning her back on the good and not so good parts of her life in Montana.

The moment she'd seen Nathan walk toward Sally's truck, she knew coming home would be harder than she'd imagined. She'd made a promise that she'd never back herself into a corner. Life was all about choices and Amy Sullivan would always choose wisely. But this time her choices had all but disappeared.

She headed down the hallway. The kitchen sat at the back of the house, renovated over the years to make cooking for large families and hungry cowboys much easier than Nathan's great-grandmother had ever known. Nathan's mom had spent a small fortune ripping out cabinets that had been around before man landed on the moon. Big box cabinetry in a soft shade of buttermilk now hugged the walls and a white stone counter sparkled under pendant lights. Cherry red blinds hung at the windows and a big bowl of fresh fruit sat on the kitchen table.

Amy smiled as she remembered her poky little kitchen back in Chicago. Finding somewhere to plug the microwave in had been enough of a challenge, let alone managing to have a bowl of fruit on the counter.

"I thought I'd find you in here." Sally grabbed the baby bottle out of her hands. "I'll make Catherine's drink. How does this thing work?"

"The formula's already measured out in the top. Just twist the cap, shake it, take the lid off, and put it in the microwave for thirty seconds."

Sally set the timer, then flicked on the kettle. "Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?"

Amy sat at the table, jiggling Catherine on her knee. "Hot chocolate. With an extra spoon of sugar."

"Living a bit dangerously, aren't we? What happened to the health conscious doctor who didn't use sugar on anything?"

"She disappeared when this little munchkin came along. I've got bigger problems than blocked arteries." The timer on the microwave pinged and Catherine's head turned toward the sound. "You know you've hit rock bottom when a ten-month-old thinks all food comes out of a microwave."

"You don't know that." Sally laughed. "She might just like the sound of the beeps."

"Does this reaction look like music therapy to you?"

Catherine's arms waved in the air and her eyes were as bright as new buttons. She followed Sally's movements as she put the lid on the bottle and closed the microwave door.

Amy grinned. "Watch what happens next."

Sally walked across the room, shaking the bottle and squeezing a dribble of formula on the inside of her wrist. Catherine's lips smacked together and her hands stretched into the air. As soon as she had the bottle safely in her hands, her little body melted against Amy. She slurped the warm liquid quickly down her throat, almost purring with pleasure.

"What a sweetie." Sally rubbed the side of Catherine's leg, earning a milky smile from the happy baby. "Now that one little girl's happy, I'll make the grown up girls a drink." She walked back to the counter and spooned chocolate powder into two mugs. "I'm glad you've come home."

"Me too," Amy sighed.

"Have you heard from your Mom?"

Looking down at her sister, Amy brushed a silky curl off her face. "Not since she left Catherine with me." That wasn't strictly true, but Sally didn't need to know about the screaming argument they'd had after she'd called Child Protective Services.

"Does she know you've moved back here?"

Taking a deep breath, Amy held Catherine a little tighter. "No. Maybe. I don't know."

"What?" The carton of milk in Sally's hands clattered against the counter. "You took her without telling your mom? She could have you arrested for kidnapping."

"What's that about kidnapping?" Nathan stood at the kitchen door, a baggy white shirt hanging loose over his blue jeans. He gazed down at Catherine, nestled in Amy's arms.

"It's nothing. Sally got confused." Amy glanced at her best friend, daring her to let rip with the questions she could see buzzing inside her head.

Sally opened her mouth, but Nathan jumped in before her. "You brought your sister here without telling your mom? What about Catherine's father?"

His voice sounded like jagged rock, sharp enough to cut through any lies or half-truths Amy had lined up ready to explain her sister's sudden appearance. "I don't know who her father is."

"What?"

Catherine's mouth dropped open and warm formula spilled down her chin. She stared at Nathan's frowning face. Amy looked up as Sally moved around the table, dabbing Catherine's face with a paper towel before her sister jammed the bottle back between her teeth. Baby brown eyes flicked between Amy and Nathan, waiting to see what happened next.

"I don't know who her father is, and I doubt my mom knows either." Amy's hands held Catherine firmly.

Nathan crossed his arms in front of his chest, then quickly dropped them to his side.

Amy hadn't missed the tightening of his face. The fleeting grimace that told her he'd been hiding as much from her as she was from him. "How's your back?"

Nathan's gaze landed on Sally.

"I didn't say much," she muttered as she made a hasty exit into the hallway.

"Running away won't solve your problems." His words might have been meant for his sister, but his gaze stayed locked on Amy.

"Yeah, but it'll keep me out of yours," Sally threw over her shoulder. "I'll start taking a few bags upstairs."

Amy barely heard Sally leave the room. Nathan's gaze trapped her to her seat. Unspoken words crashed between them, battering her tired body with too much emotion. Too much awareness of a man who'd never known when to leave good enough alone. He'd always expected more from her than she'd been willing to give, and given her more than she deserved.

"Are you going to tell me about Catherine, or do I need to do some digging of my own?"

She held her breath. "What do you mean?"

The look he shot her should have left her with fatal injuries. Maybe it would, given the amount of time she'd be spending on the ranch. She had two weeks to create a new life for her and her sister. Two weeks of keeping her heart firmly locked out of harm's way.

"Dan Carter's the deputy chief of police."

"You wouldn't do anything so low," she growled. Dan and Nathan had grown up together, inseparable buddies who created havoc wherever they went. She'd seen Dan briefly a couple of years ago when Sally had twisted her arm into coming home, just after he'd retired from the military.

Nathan sat at the table, settling back into his seat like a man who didn't plan on going anywhere in a hurry. "I've done a lot worse than snoop into someone's life."

Catherine pulled the bottle out of her mouth, a sleepy smile on her face. She gazed at Nathan, looking at him like he could do no wrong.

Amy knew better. If he wanted to know something he'd dig through whatever dirt he could find to get an answer. If she didn't tell him about Catherine, he'd be heading to Dan's office first thing in the morning. That was the last thing she needed.

"Mom turned up on my doorstep five months ago." Bile rose in her throat as she remembered the shorter than short miniskirt, five-inch heels and hot pink T-shirt her mother had been wearing. "I didn't even know I had a half-sister. The latest man in her life didn't want someone else's baby cramping his style, so she left Catherine with me." Amy quickly glanced at Nathan. He sat rock still. "I couldn't work full time and look after Catherine, so I left my job at the hospital and moved here. I don't know where our Mom is, and I don't care." Heat warmed her face. The lie hung between them like the final twist in a bad movie.

"Did she sign anything to give you custody?"

Amy shook her head. It hadn't been that easy. Even though she'd done everything she could to keep her sister safe, it might still be for nothing. "Child Protective Services have listed me as Catherine's caretaker. Mom has another five months to show she's able to raise Catherine on her own. If she can't, I get full custody." Amy held her baby sister tight against her chest, rubbing her back to get the last windy burp from her tummy. "She's not getting her back."

"The decision won't be yours to make."

Her gaze streaked to Nathan's face. She'd forgotten how blunt he could be. She took a deep breath, too scared about Catherine's future to disagree with him. "I've got Catherine now and that's all that matters."

Nathan walked over to the kitchen counter. "Adam might be able to give you some legal advice. I'll call him and make an appointment if you like."

"No, I don't like," Amy muttered.

Nathan's hand froze on the kettle. A heartbeat later he poured boiling water into a mug, adding enough coffee to keep him awake half the night. "I'm only trying to help."

"I don't need your help."

He walked back to the table, glaring at her with violet eyes. "I disagree, but then you've always done what you wanted to do without thinking about anyone else."

Heat rose in her face. "That's not fair." Catherine wiggled in her arms, dousing the anger that spiked inside her so fast that she felt breathless. "I've never had anyone else to think about. Everything I've ever done has been for a reason."

"Yeah, and that reason involved getting as far away as possible from here." His voice was low and angry. "You know better than most that life isn't fair. Bad things happened to good people and no amount of wishing can turn back the clock."

Amy stared at the steaming mug in Nathan's hands. She remembered a time when she'd thought his hands could hold a future for both of them. That maybe she could be happy with who she was, that she didn't need to be more than where she'd come from. Then reality had struck and she hadn't looked back. Until now.

"I visited you in the hospital. After the barn fire."

Nathan's hand lifted to his neck. Her gaze zeroed in on the scars wrapped around his jaw and he frowned, yanking his arm back to the table.

"I didn't know."

She wasn't surprised he couldn't remember. For the first few weeks after the fire, he'd been drip-fed a constant diet of morphine, reducing the pain of second and third-degree burns to a dull ache. If that wasn't bad enough, falling timber beams had smashed his bones like matchsticks, adding more worries for the team of surgeons looking after him.

"I couldn't stay any longer than a couple of days." Amy cleared her throat. She wanted to keep her voice strong and not let Nathan know how guilty she felt about leaving him and his family. "When I got back to Chicago, Mom arrived with Catherine. How are you?"

He kept quiet, ignoring her question.

"You'll have to tell me sometime."

"Why?"

She raised her eyebrows. If she hadn't been so tired, she would have smiled. Almost. "You're busy picking my life to shreds, but not willing to tell me about yours."

"There's nothing much to tell. Doc Johnson's happy with how everything's healing."

"That's not what I asked. How are _you_?" Catherine cuddled into her neck, snuggling closer as sleep sent her to dreamland. "Well?"

"I'm fine." He paused, scowling like a caged tiger. "There's no point rolling your eyeballs at me, Amy Sullivan. I'm not into all that mumbo-jumbo Doc Johnson's been babbling about. I got hurt and I'm dealing with it."

"I can tell." The sweet smile she plastered over her lips turned his scowl into a lethal weapon.

He leaned forward, grabbing hold of his mug. "I'm tired and I've got an early start in the morning. I'll see you tomorrow." He stood up and headed toward the kitchen.

"Someday you'll have to deal with what's eating you up."

He stopped and turned to face her, anger etched in the hard planes of his face. "And of course, you know all about sorting out your life. I'm not your patient. I don't need you interfering in something you don't understand."

Amy's jaw dropped. She sucked in a lungful of air, not sure whether she wanted to cry or scream. This wasn't the Nathan she remembered. The man who'd move mountains to help anyone. She blinked back the tears clouding her vision. It had been a long day and an even longer five months. If she'd known Nathan was staying at his parents' ranch she wouldn't have come, wouldn't have torn open a part of her life she wanted to leave behind.

"I'm sorry."

She looked up, not sure whether it was her imagination or an apology drifting across the room, almost gone before it started.

"I don't see any point talking about something that can't be changed." Nathan poured his coffee down the drain, leaving the mug in the sink. "The boys are heading into town tomorrow. If there's anything you need, make a list and I'll get them to pick them up for you. Good night."

He ignored the hurt pouring off her in waves, walking out of the room before she could tell him what a complete jerk he was. And then tell herself what an idiot she was for caring.

**Forever In Love**

**Available Now!**

[ ![Amy Sullivan's life might have been lonely but it was safe - until she found a baby on her doorstep. With her alcoholic mother gone, and a five-month-old sister to look after, Amy has no choice but to give her sister what she never had - a family - and that means moving back to Montana and the only man she's ever loved.
            Nathan Gray is as pleased to see Amy as a bear with a splinter in its paw. Nine years earlier she left him faster than a howling nor'wester and now, burnt and broken after a barn fire, he has even more reason to keep his distance. Only this time fate and a meddling family have other ideas and their lives are about to come crashing down. Right on top of each other.
            Forever in Love is the second book in the Montana Brides series and can easily be read as a stand-alone. All of Leeanna's series are linked. If you find a character you like, you could find them in another story!](images/foreverinlove_cvr-2.jpg) ](https://www.leeannamorgan.com/forever-in-love.html)

# Enjoy Other Novels By Leeanna Morgan

**Montana Brides:**

Book 1: Forever Dreams (Gracie and Trent)

Book 2: Forever in Love (Amy and Nathan)

Book 3: Forever After (Nicky and Sam)

Book 4: Forever Wishes (Erin and Jake)

Book 5: Forever Santa (A Montana Brides Christmas Novella)

Book 6: Forever Cowboy (Emily and Alex)

Book 7: Forever Together (Kate and Dan)

Book 8: Forever and a Day (Sarah and Jordan)

Montana Brides Boxed Set: Books 1-3

Montana Brides Boxed Set: Books 4-6

* * *

**The Bridesmaids Club:**

Book 1: All of Me (Tess and Logan)

Book 2: Loving You (Annie and Dylan)

Book 3: Head Over Heels (Sally and Todd)

Book 4: Sweet on You (Molly and Jacob)

The Bridesmaids Club: Books 1-3

* * *

**Emerald Lake Billionaires:**

Book 1: Sealed with a Kiss (Rachel and John)

Book 2: Playing for Keeps (Sophie and Ryan)

Book 3: Crazy Love (Holly and Daniel)

Book 4: One And Only (Elizabeth and Blake)

Emerald Lake Billionaires: Books 1-3

* * *

**The Protectors:**

Book 1: Safe Haven (Hayley and Tank)

Book 2: Just Breathe (Kelly and Tanner)

Book 3: Always (Mallory and Grant)

Book 4: The Promise (Ashley and Matthew)

Book 5: Coming Home (Mia and Stan)

Book 6: The Gift (Hannah and Brett)

Book 7: The Wish (Claire and Jason)

The Protectors Boxed Set: Books 1-3

* * *

**Sapphire Bay:**

Book 1: Falling For You (Natalie and Gabe)

Book 2: Once In A Lifetime (Sam and Caleb)

Book 3: A Christmas Wish (Megan and William)

Book 4: Before Today (Brooke and Levi)

Book 5: The Sweetest Thing (Cassie and Noah)

Book 6: Sweet Surrender (Willow and Zac)

Sapphire Bay Boxed Set: Books 1-3

* * *

**Santa's Secret Helpers:**

Book 1: Christmas On Main Street (Emma and Jack)

Book 2: Mistletoe Madness (Kylie and Ben)

Book 3: Silver Bells (Bailey and Steven)

Book 4: The Santa Express (Shelley and John)

* * *

**Return To Sapphire Bay:**

The Lakeside Inn (Penny and Wyatt)

Summer At Lakeside (Diana and Ethan)

A Lakeside Thanksgiving (Barbara and Theo)

Christmas At Lakeside (Katie and Peter)
