

### Contemporary Cowboy Romance

### 3 Book Box Set

### AMELIA ROSE

~~~

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 by Amelia Rose.

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

# Dedication

To YOU, The reader.

Thank you for your support.

Thank you for your emails.

Thank you for your reviews.

Thank you for reading and joining me on this road.

# Contents

Learning To Love (Carson Hill Ranch: Book 1)

1 - Chapter One

1 - Chapter Two

1 - Chapter Three

1 - Chapter Four

1 - Chapter Five

1 - Chapter Six

1 - Chapter Seven

1 - Chapter Eight

1 - Chapter Nine

1 - Chapter Ten

1 - Chapter Eleven

1 - Chapter Twelve

1 - Chapter Thirteen

1 - Chapter Fourteen

1 - Chapter Fifteen

1 - Chapter Sixteen

1 - Chapter Seventeen

1 - Chapter Eighteen

Mending Fences (Texas Heat Series: Book 1)

2 - Prologue

2 - Chapter One

2 - Chapter Two

2 - Chapter Three

2 - Chapter Four

2 - Chapter Five

2 - Chapter Six

2 - Chapter Seven

2 - Chapter Eight

2 - Chapter Nine

Stranded, Stalked and Finally Sated (License To Love: Book 1)

Other Books by Amelia Rose

Connect with Amelia Rose

About Amelia Rose

#  Learning To Love (Carson Hill Ranch: Book 1)

#  Chapter One

"Get the rope! Get it cinched on there tight now!" Bernard Carson called from his usual post, elbows propped on the split rail fence, overseeing the process of his two youngest sons helping with the calving. At almost seventy years old, the head of the Carson family no longer helped with the day-to-day process of running the ranch due to the years of hard physical work of being a drover, however his mind was still as sharp as ever.

"Got it, Dad," his youngest son called back, using his father's ancestral term of endearment. Jacob pulled the rope tight on the emerging calf's hind legs, pulling gently to help the heifer along with the birth of another head of prized cattle.

Bernard twitched his hands against the wooden rail, wanting desperately to leap the fence and get in on the day-to-day work of ranching. It was one small part of what had drawn him to this open land in the first place, the opportunity to stake out a claim of land under an immense sky that stretched on forever, filling that land with thousands of head of cattle, and making the trek north with them year after year. It was what the cowboys of the Old West had done, and the connection he felt to them and their old ways was never more powerful than when he went about his work under the immense sky.

Sure, some things had changed since then. The telegraph was gone and his ranch hands now carried satellite phones on their hips where cowpokes once carried revolvers. The plows pulled by oxen had been replaced by industrial tractors with enclosed, air conditioned cabs. The wagon train that moved a herd across thousands of miles of open, untouched land had been replaced with vehicles driven in shifts.

But just as much as things changed, sometimes, things stayed the same, like the amazement of a calf being brought into the world, made even more amazing by watching his youngest sons go to work.

Seamus tied off the rope with a slip knot against the post in the middle of the fence, ensuring that it would hold throughout the birthing but would cut loose in a moment if the mother was in distress. It was surprising his father was letting the two of them take this on considering how much was invested in this tiny, slippery calf. If it was a female, it would mean up to two dozen other calves in its lifetime. If it was a bull, that number would be tenfold. Every second counted to make sure that whatever price it would fetch, it happened intact.

Finally, the tiny creature—well, tiny for a cow—popped out into the open, its eyes opening and closing in shock at the bright sunlight and stark change in temperature. Jacob reached for it with the burlap outstretched, but Bernard intervened.

"Leave her to it, son, she knows what she's doing. This is her first time, but it's an instinct," he called, amused at the way his two nearly grown sons, young men who could take on just about anything the frontier threw at them, were as giddy as new fathers themselves over the new member of the ranch and the miracle they had just taken part in. And he was right. The mother, unfazed by the difficult process she'd just endured, turned her massive head to her newborn calf and began to lick, warming it and comforting it. Jacob and Seamus joined their father at the fence rail and leapt the shoulder-height fence with a quick climb.

"I see it a hundred times a year and it amazes me every time," Bernard said, gazing at the animals with admiration. "You did good, boys. It's a proud thing to watch your own sons take on at the ranch." The three cowboys, two fresh-faced and excited, one seasoned and respected, watched the animals in silence for a moment before turning toward the house, dusting their hands in the sawdust then brushing the grime from their leather coveralls as they went.

Bernard left Jacob and Seamus to clean up in the tack room adjacent to the barn and went into the main house. Walking into the foyer of the grand house never failed to leave him a little cold, feeling for the hundredth time the pang of loss of his wife, Margaret. She had been a true lady, even out here on the farm, and had always kept their home as a lady would. It had been only ten years since he'd lost her, dying shortly after the difficult birth of the last child to follow Seamus and Jacob, but it still hurt as though she had passed only yesterday.

These days, her home was nowhere near as grand. It was far from in shambles, but it lacked the womanly touch she'd always brought to it. The silver bowls she'd brought from the city when she came to this ranch as a new wife once held flower blooms she cut herself every morning from her garden, a task she wouldn't even leave to the hired help. Instead, it was normal to find a random collection of items in her silver, things men would leave lying around a ranch; a bowie knife, a wad of twine, a spur that needed repair, or some rusted nails.

_We need a woman around the place to make this a home again,_ Bernard thought wistfully, his mind immediately going to any of the six very eligible sons he had living on the ranch. Apart from the younger twins, there were a set of older twins as well, with two single brothers born in between. All of them were eligible to start looking, what with the older twins, Carey and Casey, being twenty-two for most of a year now. The trouble was the same problem they had with the cattle; eligible mates had to be found elsewhere.

Part of why Carson Hill Ranch was known for producing the best herd was because Bernard had learned from his own family's farming traditions that dated all the way back to his ancestors from Belgium. But whether it was sheep in the foothills of the Alps or steer in the Texas plains, one thing about these animals was universal, and that was the need to bring in outside mates from time to time to ensure a strong stock.

_Look at me, calling the future mothers of my grandchildren "stock,"_ the old man thought with some measure of disbelief. _Maybe I've been at this too long._

"So, Dad, how'd the boys do?" Joseph asked, coming up behind his father and patting him on the shoulder. "That last calf came out okay?"

"Sure did, the boys made proud work of it. But where are your older brothers? Shouldn't they have been around for this?" Bernard asked, his impatience showing on that last word. Unlike his sons, who'd grown up among the hired hands from the area and gone to school with some of the local kids, Bernard had spent his entire life on this ranch, even being schooled at home alongside the children of the ranch hands. By the time Bernard had inherited the ranch and began thinking of having a family, he had been some twenty years older than his somewhat younger wife. The two of them had been happy to stay isolated on the ranch, so much so that some days, Bernard felt as out of place on his own land because of the generation gap he felt all around him.

"They should still be working on that fence, if I'm not mistaken. We finally found the hole yesterday, and they were out before breakfast this morning to get to it before we have any more cows wander off."

"And you didn't help your brothers?" the old man asked, a teasing tone in his voice even as he prodded one of his two middle sons.

Joseph laughed. "I knew you were gonna say something about it! No, I've been out with one of the foremen all day, baiting for coyote." His father's face darkened. "I know, I know, you don't have to say anything. But I'm sorry, Dad, it has to be done."

Bernard had never understood the need to kill a weaker animal by luring it to its death. Taking out an aggressive scavenger that came onto your property was one thing, but actively bringing them to the land so they can die in pain, just to save a few cattle? That was more than he liked to think about.

"You know how I feel about it. I suppose this is why I have foremen, to make these decisions for me. But I don't have to like it and you don't have to brag about it," Bernard admonished.

"Yes, Dad," Joseph said, dropping his head a little. He hated to disappoint his father, but the coyotes had been coming to the ranch more and more frequently because of the lack of rain this past season, following the smaller prairie animals that came for the storehouses. But instead of catching the smaller animals, they ran the cattle to death instinctively. "But it would be different if they came and took out an old or sick cow once in a while because they needed the food. They don't even eat it. They just chase one until she dies, choking on her own tongue from exhaustion and fear. If you feel this sorry for a lousy coyote, try feeling sorry for the herd. That has to be a horrible way to die, especially when it's for nothing."

"Of course, you're right, my son," Bernard sighed. "But when you get to be my age, you don't like to think of anything dying. It's too close to home!" Joseph shook his head.

"Now we're not having that talk, Dad. You're not going anywhere, and neither are the rest of us. When I see the others, I'll tell 'em you're looking for 'em." He clapped his father on the back in farewell and headed back out to the stable to see to his horse.

#  Chapter Two

"Ah! There you are, boys!" Bernard called from his office as Carey and Casey passed by. "Come in here, I want to speak with you!"

Casey dropped his shoulders in defeat, but Carey nudged him sharply with his elbow, reminding him to straighten up. It had been a long, hot day and the heat hadn't let up in the slightest, even though the sun was nearly below the horizon. This is the time of day that even showering off in one of the dozen shower stalls in the washroom didn't cool a man off any, no matter how cold the temperature of the natural spring-fed water. Casey straightened and put on a smile for his dad.

"What is it, Dad?" Carey asked, always the polite one, the one who remembered to think of a lonely old man, even after a day of labor.

"Come, come. Sit in here. I was thinking today about the ranch and we need to have a meeting." Bernard stepped over to one of the wing-back chairs near the fireplace, a fireplace that hadn't needed to be warmed since last winter but that still served as an unofficial forum for conducting ranch business. Casey shot his brother a look, imploring him to get them out of this quickly. Instead, Carey took the seat directly across from his father and leaned close, ready to hear what the old man had to say. Casey sighed quietly in defeat but not quietly enough for Carey, who shot him a warning glance. Casey lowered himself onto a thread-worn flowered sofa and stretched out.

"So, my sons, I was thinking today...about your mother." Casey sat up straighter and Carey bit his lower lip.

"What about her, Dad?"

"I was thinking that we need to have a feminine influence here." Bernard interlaced his fingers in his lap and waited. Carey and Casey exchanged worried looks before Carey jumped up from his chair and reached for his father's arm.

"That's fantastic news, Dad! I didn't even know you'd been looking for a wife! When will she get here? She won't expect us to call her Mom, will she?" Carey asked, a little too eagerly. Bernard looked at him in wide eyed shock before breaking out in a robust laugh, its sound echoing from the high exposed rafters above them.

"No! No, son, not me. I'm too old for that kind of thing! Who would have a man my age?" He laughed some more before taking a deep breath and continuing. "It's you who need to find a wife, you and your brother here."

Casey got up from the sofa and peered at his father. "A wife? What? And just how do you propose we do that, sign up for an online dating service?" he demanded. Carey punched him in the shoulder, reminding him to be respectful. Casey cleared his throat and remembered himself. "In case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly swimming in eligible, hot girls around here. Seriously, Dad, are we supposed to put an ad in a newspaper somewhere? That's how you find stud cattle for the herd, not a human being."

"Go ahead and laugh, smart guy, but it was a perfectly sufficient way for your ancestors to meet their wives, if I do say so myself. Girls came from the east by train back then, sight unseen, and showed up on the frontier to get married!" Bernard sat up taller and bristled somewhat angrily at the insinuation that going looking for a wife was not good enough for his sons. "And as a matter of fact, online dating is all the rage. I do watch the news, you know." Carey and Casey looked first at their father and then at each other before racing to their father's desk and peeking at his computer screen to make sure he hadn't posted their info and made profiles for them somewhere. Their faces fell when they saw he'd been on the lesser known Internet dating site, CowboyLove.com, and had created profiles for each of them.

"Wanted..." Carey began reading.

"That's wonderful," Casey interrupted. "Right away, they're going to think we're trying to find a criminal, not a bride."

"Hush, you," Carey hissed before turning back to their father's handiwork. "Wanted, brides for the Carson Hill Ranch. Good stock, willing to breed--" Casey made an exasperated sound low in his chest, his face flushing from embarrassment, "—able to endure the winters with the drive. Must be willing to accompany the herd..."

"I added that part in especially for you," Bernard added, very pleased with his foresight. "I remember being so lonely on the drives after leaving your mother back here at the ranch. A good wife would go with her husband as he drives the cattle. She could cook for everyone, right? But your mother was always taking care of you boys, and she wouldn't leave you at the ranch, no matter how many local women I offered to hire to care for you." Casey shook his head slowly, still shocked and dumbfounded that his dad was doing this. It had to be a joke. There was no way this was real.

"Dad, this is so..." Carey began, his voice trailing off as he realized he couldn't find the words to finish his own thought.

"Stupid?" Casey muttered under his breath, in a voice he was sure could not be heard by his elderly father.

"Thoughtful!" Carey said too loudly, sending a message to Casey that he hoped his brother got, once and for all. "But I'm not sure this is the best way to find a wife. Maybe next year, when we drive the herd to Wyoming, we can talk to some people, maybe ask around and see if any of the families we know can recommend someone to us. But you can't just order a wife from the Internet the way we order plow blades from a catalog. And you certainly can't expect her to come all the way out here just to...make babies."

"But of course you can! Look! I see it right here!" Bernard got up and came over to the desk, clicking the mouse a few times to open some bookmarks he'd saved. "See? These women want to make a new start, a fresh start out in the wide open!"

"That's because they've been to prison, Dad. That's what they mean by a 'fresh start.' They want to move where no one knows about their past!" Carey argued.

"Carey," Casey warned in a low voice, "do something about this. I am not going to be bred like one of Dad's old cows!"

"My sons, sit back down and listen to me," Bernard began. Casey fought to maintain his composure, both from wanting to wash off the dirt from a long, hot day and finally eat a good meal, and from the prospect that his father had been posting information about him on the Internet like a pimp and wanted to talk about it. The last thing on his mind was listening to his father's grand plans for matchmaking. "When my ancestors first came to Texas, it took many, many weeks of travel. First, there was a whole ocean to cross, then there was almost an entire continent to cross, too. They arrived to find it was an empty place that filled men with empty feelings. It's still a wonder to me to look out and see forever, to see so many stars, where all my relatives used to see was the little bit of sky that wasn't hidden by the mountains around their village."

"But after such a long time to make it to their new home, the first Carson to try to stake a homestead claim had only been here for a short time before he knew this land fulfilled him in a way that the mountains never could. Here, he was a man who owned the very ground we walk on today. The Carson family ranching empire started with a small herd of only three cows and over the years, each generation built that herd into everything you see today. Now, I have a ranch that goes on for sixty miles in all directions, and a home with room enough for fifty men. What I don't have is someone to share it with me, to stand on the edge of my land and let me say to her, 'This is what my people built, and I share it with you'. You might think working the ranch is all there is and for right now, maybe you're right. But there will come a day when you want to look back and know you built something more than just a ranch. You'll want to know that you built a life."

The boys stood quietly, absorbing their father's heartfelt words. Losing their mother had been hard on them when they were young, but they barely remembered her. It was their father who had known her for much longer, who had finally found someone to share his life with after so long.

"When I found your mama, there was no Internet dating that you sneered at," Bernard said, flipping his hand in the direction of the computer to reflect their disgust with it. "She came here because, like me, she wanted to be a part of something that could be all hers. Your mama wasn't from the country, she moved here from a city, a loud and dirty place where no man, woman, or child could really breathe. Coming to this ranch for her was like being alive for the first time in her life. And yes, she and I took a long time to meet each other and get to know one another, but affection grows with time. You find a woman with the qualities that are important to you, and you treat her with the respect that is due to the person who gives you your children, and everything else will take care of itself. That is the way to happiness, my sons."

Carey coughed awkwardly, humbled by hearing his father say more words at once than he often spoke all day, words that were filled with an undercurrent of longing for something he had lost. "Well, Dad, you know best. Go ahead and submit those profiles, and we'll just see what kind of response we get, right?" He cringed at the thought of a woman showing up at the ranch, the kind of sturdy, grizzled woman who would be willing to even consider signing on for the life of a ranch wife, especially one who would come all this way with marriage on her mind. He couldn't bring himself to envision it but he couldn't argue with his father either, especially when Dad was apparently only thinking of them.

Bernard dismissed his oldest sons with a nod, patting them on their work-hardened shoulders as they turned to go. They didn't make it far before muffled laughter rolled down the staircase.

"You two look like you've seen a ghost!" one of their foremen, Jack, called out as he came down the last few steps. "Lemme guess, the old man had 'that talk' with you two? So you two are finally men now?" He leered at his own joke, enjoying the look of absolute embarrassment on Carey's face and utter humiliation on Casey's.

"Real smooth, Jack. And try to remember that the 'old man' is my father and your employer. Do you make it a habit to eavesdrop outside my father's office when he's conducting business?" Casey demanded, stepping up to stand face-to-face with Jack so quickly, Carey barely had time to put a hand out and pull him back. Jack only laughed harder.

"I sure do, 'specially when that business is about somebody getting to dip his wick in a pretty young girl. If we get any good offers from that Internet site of your dad's, maybe they'll be plenty to go around. I won't have to go visiting those strung-out, puny local girls if I had a wife of my own." He laughed as Casey lunged at him again, only to be held back by his brother. He turned to head back to the shacks that dotted the western edge of the property, his sickening laugh still sounding around them as he went.

"I can't tell you how much I hate that man. Good people get thrown off their horses or run over by tractors every damn day. Why can't he hurry up and do us all a favor, and get his brains kicked in?" Casey seethed.

"You don't mean that. Sure, he's a horse's ass, but he can get ten thousand cattle from here to Wyoming without losing more than a handful. That says something about the man. Besides, he's been with Dad for longer than we've been alive. That must say something for him."

"Yeah, it says it's time for him to go. He'll be one of the first ones to be sent walking out on the prairie without so much as a dried up biscuit in his pail when we finally run this ranch."

"Well, hopefully, that day is a long time from now. Speaking of biscuits, I'm so hungry my stomach thinks my throat's been cut. C'mon, let's wash up and see what the kitchen staff has for us." Carey put one arm around his twin's shoulders and led him to the back porch to the water stalls.

#  Chapter Three

"So, I hear we've got some love birds out on the ranch," Emma said under her breath to Dee as they leaned against the corner of the brick bar, supposedly to entice men to come in. The sad handful of men who'd already been lured inside were either too broke or too drunk on whatever Crazy Mack passed off as whiskey to pay any attention to a couple of skinny working girls waiting outside.

"What are you talking about?" Dee whispered back, a pathetic smile that was supposed to make her look alluring plastered across her face.

"Jack was in here two weeks ago for his usual," she said, rolling her eyes and making a face. "and he said the old man at Carson Hill Ranch was advertising for wives for his sons."

"Really? Which sons are getting married?" Dee asked, forgetting to pretend they weren't having a conversation. Crazy Mack banged on the large front window of the bar with the thick plank of wood he kept handy for breaking up late night brawls, pointing a black-nailed finger at the girls and gesturing for them to knock it off.

"Does it matter?" Emma answered after Crazy Mack went back to wiping shot glasses with the hem of his shirt. "Have you ever seen all of 'em up close? When they stand together, the six of them make you think you're seeing paradise. I'm just saying, they don't make 'em ugly at Carson Hill, if you know what I mean."

"I ain't never seen any of 'em up close, just when they come through town to do some shopping. By damn, I'd marry one of the little boys if it would get me the hell outta here," Dee promised with a surly glance in Mack's direction.

"Well, I don't know about 'little.' The youngest ones have to be getting big by now. The preacher told me last week that Old Man Carson's wife's been gone for at least ten years."

"When have you been speaking with the pastor, Miss Church on Sunday?" Dee teased, purposefully bumping into Emma with her hip as they danced for a small cluster of workmen who'd just stepped off the bus from the fertilizer factory.

"That's between me and his money," Emma said with a knowing look.

"Well, if they're the two boys I'm thinking of, they're a good bit older than twelve. Even if they're only boys, I wouldn't mind teaching them a thing or two," Dee hinted. "Every boy needs a good teacher, am I right?"

"Don't even think about it," Emma warned her. "The Carsons don't come in here. Their father would skin them alive and you know it."

"Well, then maybe I need to go out to the ranch and see what all this marrying business is about. I could see myself as a rancher's wife, especially on a place as big as Carson Hill," Dee said haughtily.

"Of course you could. You could teach everyone on the place all about mating!" Emma said with a good-hearted snicker. Crazy Mack banged on the window again. "Of course, getting away from this one would be rough. He ain't gonna let you go without making you sorry."

"Honey, he's been making me sorry ever since I stepped off the bus. I knew this part of the state was still a dangerous place, but I sure never thought I'd end up hiking up my skirts for sweaty factory guys and ranch hands for thirty bucks a pop, and that's before Mack takes his portion. I been doin' this so long, it's a wonder I haven't died of something nasty."

"Yeah, and that 'nasty' is what's gonna keep you off the Carson ranch. They're so high-and-mighty, they wouldn't spit on you if you caught fire right in front of their eyes." Emma continued dancing, turning toward the man who stepped into the shady bar, hoping to catch his interest. She lowered the strap on the flimsy cotton tank top she wore to advertise what she had to offer, but it was a sad state of costume as Mack was too cheap to even send for halfway decent clothes for the two working girls he owned.

"There's no damn sense in paying for fine clothes for these filthy jerks to leave their stinking stains all over 'em," he'd once said, ordering the girls back to their rooms above the bar when they'd asked about having decent clothes. "Besides, they ain't interested in what you're wearing, they want what you're hiding underneath."

Emma and Dee let their minds wander to what living on Carson Hill Ranch could have been like if they'd answered an ad for a bride from a dating site instead of falling for the Craigslist ad for waitresses and bar dancers, speculating quietly about husbands and children, clothes, and a home of their own.

+++

Casey turned off the ignition on the pickup truck and slid out to untie the heavy bundles tied down along the sides of the truck bed. He hefted them onto his shoulder and went into the local store, pushing the door open with the toe of one weathered boot.

"Morning, Casey," Samuel Peterson called out from on top of a ladder leaned against the high shelves that kept all of his stock off the ground and away from the dust that constantly seeped under the door. "What can I do for you today?"

"I brought some more hides from the last round of slaughter," he answered cheerfully, lowering the two bundles to the floor in front of the counter. "We can take credit to trade for a few things, or cash, whichever's easier for you."

"Of course, let me just grab these things and I'll get my book." He returned to his work and left Casey to wander among the shelves while waiting for the store owner to finish his business. Sam operated one of the last bastions of the Old West, something that looked very much like the great-great-grandchild of the old mercantiles. He sold a little bit of everything, both farm tools and makeup, but also operated a great online business in trading. Sam would take the hides of the Carsons' hands, and find a buyer in the leather market, while keeping a little commission for his time.

Casey's eyes gravitated toward the small rack of irritatingly feminine shoes, some gleaming in different colors and with ludicrous high heels, and he shook his head, wondering how much of that useless stuff Peterson ever managed to sell. Any woman who arrived in these parts would need sturdy boots and clothes that could take the punishment of everyday life, a life that would mean tanning hides, growing vegetables, and feeding the crew of kids that every farm needed. Living out here was a daily effort to survive—economically, that is, not life or death like in the olden days—even for a family as well-off as the Carsons.

The shoes made him think of his mother for some reason, and the talk his dad had had with him almost a month ago. Casey didn't remember much about his mother, other than that she always smelled nice and had soft hands. _The memory of her couldn't be right,_ he thought. _Because no woman could have made a home for her family out here and kept her hands so soft._ Those hands would have been bandaged because of the nearly daily wounds of the hired help and the six boys who ran wild on the farm, cooked four meals a day for nearly thirty hard-working men, and washed the clothes of an entire army of ranchers who would have been hell-bent on rolling in any patch of dirt they could find when working the cattle.

But somehow, that's what he remembered about her. Even more than her face or her voice, he remembered a sweet lilac smell and a soft touch to her hands. Somehow, it was hard to reconcile the same woman who had fancy dishes and floral-printed sofas put in at the ranch house to being the same kind of woman who would have helped his father build up the Carson property into what it is today.

"Let's take a look, Casey," Samuel said behind him, jarring him from his usually forgotten thoughts. Casey turned and untied the hides, laying each one out on the weathered counter top as Samuel slid his laptop over to the counter. Samuel measured each one as Casey unrolled them, recording the different thicknesses and measurements in a spreadsheet in his computer. He offered a more than fair price for the hides, holding out a rubber-banded ledger book for Casey to sign his name. Even with high-tech equipment and online trading, a man's signature was the most important part of the deal, and Casey liked it that way.

After giving Samuel his list of supplies and watching as the store owner tabulated the trade, he marked how much credit the Carsons would have in the shop for the next time they came into town for supplies. Samuel helped him load the household items into his sacks and secure them in the back of Casey's truck, putting a hand on the door handle when Casey started the ignition.

"Wait, there's mail for you," he said, waving his hands at almost forgetting. He dashed into the side room of the store that served as the small town's post office and came back with a small bundle, handing it through the open window to Casey and watching as the cowboy tossed it on the cracked upholstery of the passenger seat. "Sorry, I couldn't help but notice when it came in, there's a flyer announcing an auction just east of here. Didn't know if your family might be interested in bringing in a new breed at your place."

"Hmm, sounds interesting. Did they say how many head?"

"I can't remember now," the gray-haired man said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. "I want to say it was somewhere around two hundred head of redback and one hundred head of stroud. The owner up and moved away after they foreclosed on some of his property, and didn't leave any kind of forwarding address. Someone has to buy 'em up quick or they're gonna starve in the pasture once the grass is gone. And you know all the milking heifers are drying up, what with no one doing the milking. Animal control has been going out once a week and checking on 'em, making sure they have fresh water and stuff like that, but now they're state property. It's a shame that it's just going to waste, but that's the way of it here when the money runs out."

Casey nodded thoughtfully. _Good thing the Carson ranch was overrun with family and ranch hands,_ he thought to himself. With a wave, he put the truck in gear, then turned in the direction of the ranch and settled in for the one hour ride over unpaved, packed dirt and grass, looking above the visor of the truck to make sure his gun was in its holder, in case he needed it during the trek.

#  Chapter Four

"Dad, I received this announcement in the mail when I went into town today," Casey said, holding out the crudely printed paper with information on the upcoming auction. He pointed to the list of livestock and farm tools, making a special note of the spools of fencing. Apparently, the owner had acquired a few hundred additional acres and was readying the extra parcel for pasturing when the money ran out. That was the shame of it out here, a lot of newbies came along thinking farm life would equal a simpler, less stressful time, but every rancher knew that any family was always one solid drought away from losing everything they had. "That fencing will come in handy, especially if the river keeps coming up over the banks and taking out the posts. I was thinking we could move our current fence to the other side of it, away from the water's edge, and build a support that would keep the herd from getting out through the water. We'd have to build it up some, but we'd spend far less time building fences than we'd spend fixing them."

Anders, Casey's other middle brother, looked up from his computer and took off his glasses, nodding at Casey's logic and looking to Dad for approval. Anders had been born small and stayed indoors most of the time, but that made him an excellent ranch manager. None of the others minded having the fourth son learning to run the vast farm, not when there was physical work to be done that he couldn't do. Everyone contributed on a ranch, and this was Anders' strong suit.

"I would ordinarily say it sounds like a fine idea, but I can't say that now," Bernard stated. He looked to Anders, who looked at Casey before quickly ducking his head back into his numbers, recording the transaction Casey had made in town that day and mostly busying himself with anything but the conversation at hand.

"What's wrong with their stock, Dad? I know we've never raised stroud before, but it could be a good mix. I heard in town that they're a long-haired breed, not really suited well for Texas, but if we introduce them into our herd, they might make our stock hardier for winters up north. We could sell a better animal at a higher price if the farmers up there knew these were bred with something that tolerated the winter well."

"Yes, you make an excellent point, son. But I meant that the auction will not be going as planned. A buyer has come in and taken the whole parcel, the land, house, equipment, and the stock."

"Oh," Casey answered, not surprised as news of the auction was at least a month old. "That changes things."

"Not so very much, it doesn't. We could still establish the breed with this other farm. That parcel is only two miles from the edge of our northern boundary line," Bernard continued, "and I do expect to have a good relationship with that ranch, once the buyer moves in."

"Well, we can hope for the best but snatching up entire lots of land tends to make men greedy out here. I'd be more worried that this new owner might be just another idealistic new guy or some hippie who thinks he's going to sit around on his porch and eat free-range chicken eggs all day. With our luck, he's going to be another pseudo-environmentalist who thinks we shouldn't raise cattle because meat's deadly and their farts destroy the ozone layer or something. Besides, if there's a route through that parcel we can take when we drive the cattle north, he may want to charge us some hefty fees for passing through," Casey continued, a worried frown creasing his sun-browned features. Bernard only smiled.

"Yes, I would fear the same thing, if I didn't know the owner so well," he continued, his eyes dancing as he smiled. Casey looked from his father to Anders once again, bemused when his younger brother suddenly snapped his laptop closed and fled from the room with it, his pencil still in hand. Casey stared after him before turning a wary eye on his father, but Bernard only laughed. "Yes! I've bought the ranch! For you and your wife!"

Casey's shoulders sagged in defeat as his father opened this wound again. "What are you talking about, Dad?"

"This! This came today! The answer to the ad! I bought the land the same day I submitted your dating profile," Bernard explained as he pointed to an open email on his screen. Casey looked at the screen and rolled his eyes at the swirly font and formal greeting.

"Dad, any woman who writes like this isn't fit for the ranch. She's practically writing a poem, going on and on about the 'wondrous landscape of the frontier' and the 'challenges that seem insurmountable but can only be overcome by man's natural desire for exploration'. Is she writing a book, or answering an ad for a ranch wife?" Casey closed out the email and turned to him with his hands on his hips, readying himself for battle against his father's matchmaking.

"So we help her be fit for the ranch, both her husband," Bernard gestured to Casey, who threw up his hands in defeat, "and the staff of the ranch. It's not like there are no women here, women who can show her what needs to be done. They'll help her learn. She is obviously very smart and well-educated..."

"...which means she'll be useless the first time she has to boil down lard and smear it on a maggot-infested hindquarter..."

"...and eager to see the land. She sounds exactly like the kind of daughter I need here to make this place a home again and to make sure we don't lose this ranch in an auction on the day the last of us dies in our beds." Bernard was no longer laughing but rather, reminding Casey of the reason the neighboring property became available. "This ranch is my legacy to my sons, but what will you do without someone to leave it to? Will you have it broken up on the auction block and sold off in pieces to the highest bidder? Like a scrawny cow that can no longer give and is going to be someone's dinner?"

Casey didn't answer. Passing on the ranch someday to children of his own was something he instinctively knew he would do, but at the moment he was too busy doing the work of the ranch to think about the future of the ranch. With fences breaking daily, cattle to feed and repasture twice a day, and a staff of dozens to oversee, there simply wasn't time for giving any thought to dating, no matter how eager his father had been to sign him up online.

"But what about Carey?" Casey asked in a voice that sounded dangerously close to whining. "How come he doesn't have to get married?"

"Don't worry, his day will come next. There's been a ton of replies to both of your profiles, but this is just the first one that I feel good about, or at least good enough to bring out here for you to meet." Bernard took his silence to mean agreement. "Wonderful! I will send a reply right away and invite her down here. We'll need to get to work constructing a small house until you two are actually married, it's only polite..."

"Why do we have to build her a house? She can stay in one of the rooms upstairs," Casey argued, already envisioning a plan in which she hated ranch life so much that she fled.

"Oh, she will stay in an upstairs room. It is you who have to live outside. It's only fitting. We'll give her the terrace room that adjoins the one beside it, in case she wants to have friends come visit and see her new home." Bernard continued muttering to himself over the preparations as Casey stared after him in horror.

_I'm moving out?_ he thought miserably, shaking his head.

#  Chapter Five

"Excuse me? Aren't you getting off in Hale?" the bus driver asked, tapping the young woman on the shoulder. She opened her eyes, startled for a moment by the bright light coming through the grimy bus window. Gracie snored softly with her head on Miranda's shoulder, the younger girl's curls having long lost their ability to stay put in their ponytail over the four days of travel from Newark. It took her a moment to remember where she was and, more importantly, why.

"Yes, oh, thank you. I must have dozed off," Miranda explained, thanking the old driver.. She let her head fall back against the seat, hesitating to wake Gracie. It had been so difficult to get any rest, let alone privacy, during their trip west, she didn't even mind her younger sister's assumption that she could use her as a pillow. If Miranda's ex-boyfriend had seen this level of sisterly love, there would have been more than a few ugly words and a lot of yelling. He had done his very best to isolate Miranda from her family, but when her mother died and Gracie had to have a place to stay, it only made things worse. Now that Miranda and Gracie were alone in the world, just the two of them, she couldn't afford to risk losing a kind soul any more than she could refuse to breathe.

She tried to stretch her cramped limbs without jostling Gracie, but it didn't work. The girl snapped to attention, sitting bolt upright at the realization that she had just been napping on her poor sister. Her cheeks flushed pink as she stole a sideways glance at Miranda.

"Don't worry, Gracie, you couldn't help yourself. I'm sure I was so tired, I didn't notice myself," Miranda said, patting the girl's hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

The trip from the east had started well enough, with Miranda and Gracie taking a train first, one that had reclining seats, a snack bar, wifi, and more. Eventually, the train took them as far as they could go, and the bus trip leg of the journey began. The buses were cramped and smelly but even worse, they stopped in every single town between Chicago and Texas.

Now, her new home in Hale, Texas, awaited her, along with any number of new experiences. Miranda had found the email response one day, not knowing Gracie had signed her up for an Internet dating site. Gracie had even reached out to a number of prospects who the younger girl had romantically thought were promising, pretending to be Miranda. After she got over her anger at being tricked, and got over her fear that her ex would find out and lash out at her, she began to read the responses, first for the laugh but later, for the escape. It's not like she ever in a million years thought about actually contacting one of these lonely cowboys, but it was pleasant to let herself daydream for a few stolen minutes.

After Gracie had to come live with her, the trouble began. Her asshole ex-boyfriend, Mike, was jealous the instant she showed up, complaining every time Miranda did something for the poor, now-orphaned girl. Even taking off work to go register her for school had pissed him off so much, he'd shoved her to the floor, stopping just short of actually hitting her this time because Gracie was now standing there, witnessing it all.

_That's what he really resented,_ Miranda thought sadly, remembering how horrible the last two years of her life had been. _He hated having a witness around stopping him from taking everything out on me._

That's when the idea of answering one of these emails first came to mind. She had to do something to get away, but had no idea of how. Mike controlled everything; her bank account, her car, even her cell phone, and he liked it that way. It was how he could make sure she stuck around. But the night she woke up to Gracie protesting, her cries coming through the wall from where she slept on the couch as Mike... she wouldn't think about that right now.

"Do you know how much longer it will be?" Gracie asked in her soft spoken voice, peering out the windows as though the answer was posted somewhere on the landscape.

"Not with any real certainty, but the driver woke me up because the next stop is ours. It wouldn't be too much longer, I think." She smiled reassuringly at her sister, hopeful that her own confidence would influence Gracie, who had not wholly embraced the idea of living out West. She had only agreed to take part in this under the agreement that if it wasn't to her liking, they would split, heading to who knows where, but that they would do it together. Miranda had begged her to give it half a year at least before deciding whether or not she could live on the ranch, and even that took calling upon every ounce of loyalty Gracie felt for her big sister.

"Is it true that we'll get to eat our meals outside, sitting on the ground beside a fire?" Gracie asked, her fears now replaced by the rumors she'd heard or stories she'd read in books back home.

"I don't see why that would be true. This is the 21st century, you know. But even if it is, I'm sure it's only for special occasions or when there's some kind of cowboy thing going on. Wouldn't that be an adventure?" she asked with an excited twinkle in her eye. Miranda did her best to be a source of comfort to the girl, one who had never ventured outside the city and had already been through so much. She could only imagine what fears were coursing through Gracie's mind.

Miranda felt the bus begin to slow, telling her the driver had been right. The dull feeling she'd had inside her about this trip was gone now, replaced, for the first time since reading the ad, by waves of nervousness. What was this town going to be like? More importantly, what was this guy going to be like? All of his emails said he'd wanted to date for a short time and that he was ready to marry the right woman. Miranda had been impressed with his conversations, with the adoring way he wrote and asked about things going on in her own life. But she knew from experience that sweet talking was easy to come by and that it was a favorite tool for some guys to get what they wanted.

She couldn't be sure if she was arguing with herself, or trying to convince herself. Miranda had berated herself more than once for sneaking away like she did, but it wasn't because she wasn't entitled to leave. She wasn't exactly on the run from the law, but the less Mike knew about her whereabouts, the better. It was sufficient to say she hadn't left things on a good note, if the Louisville slugger she'd beaten him with was any indication.

_My own choice of a stranger is better than any choice I've made so far,_ she reminded herself, repeating the mantra that had kept her steeled and her head held high during this long trip west. She squared her shoulders and looked across the sea of tired, grumpy passengers taking up residence in the Greyhound, her eyes never wavering from the door that would take her off this bus and into a new life, and into the arms of a husband of her own choosing.

#  Chapter Six

"Are you sure you read the email right, Miranda?" Gracie asked, for what had to have been the fourth time. "And the date's correct?"

"Yes, Gracie," Miranda replied once again, forcing herself to remember to speak nicely. Here they were, in the infamous West for only a matter of hours, and already her sister was getting on her nerves, peppering her with questions when she was already nervous. "I've spoken with the guy in the bus station, remember? He told me this was the correct day and we were on the correct bus. Whoever was supposed to pick us up from the station is just late." She continued to fan herself forcefully, wishing more than anything that she could take off her thick overcoat to get some relief from the unbelievable heat, but what kind of first impression would that make if she showed up dirty and stained from the bus ride? She had chosen this outfit specifically because not only did it look pretty, but it also looked responsible and powerful. It was an outfit that said, "I've taken all the crap I plan to take from people, so don't even start." So she sat to wait.

And wait. More than once, Miranda entertained the idea of going into one of the two buildings closest to the fairly good-sized station, as one was clearly a shop of some kind and the other looked to be some sort of restaurant. But looking at the patrons leaving the shop loaded down with fifty pound sacks of feed, she wasn't sure that she wouldn't be in the way. That left the restaurant.

"Let's go, Gracie. We can get something to eat and at least get out of this heat and into the shade." Miranda walked ahead of Gracie, after asking the guy behind the counter in the bus station if he would guard their suitcases, leaving her teenaged sister to scamper after her. It only took a moment to realize their mistake.

As the two ladies pushed open the half-door and stepped into the darkened tavern, Miranda immediately threw one delicately gloved hand over Gracie's eyes, pinning the girl's head to her own chest to prevent her from seeing the display taking place inside. Not only were half the men wearing barely more than undershirts hanging out of filthy, ill-cut pants, but two sad-looking girls—no doubt around Gracie's age—were doing what could only pass for dancing in this town as the unwashed, undressed men stared on. That alone was bad enough, but the fact that the girls had on almost no clothing, their bare breasts on display as the men leered, was horrifying.

Miranda wasted no time in turning them around and barreling out the door, letting it slam shut on its rusty spring without caring for the fine fabric of her power outfit. Gracie blinked at the harsh sunlight when Miranda released her eyes, then visibly shuddered.

"What kind of place is this?" she asked quietly. "Are those girls all right?"

"Yes, Gracie, I'm very sorry you saw that. Believe it or not, those girls have chosen to work here. At least, I hope they've chosen to." Miranda pulled herself up to her usual formal posture and turned on her heel, eager to put as much distance between that den of Gomorrah and their physical bodies as possible.

She didn't make it very far. Before she could take a full step, she found herself pressed against another person, this one very much a man if the solid wall of muscle beneath where her hands had landed was any indication. She immediately pulled her hands away from the man's chest, but he gripped both of her elbows tightly and pulled her impossibly closer to keep her from falling backward. Even that type of physical contact was too scary, especially from a stranger. Miranda wrenched herself away with a stomp on the unsuspecting man's foot and a forceful shove to his chest, only to find herself staggering backward until she lost her footing and fell, landing unceremoniously on her bottom in the dirt. Her eyes traveled up from his broken in and scuffed boots to his well-worn jeans until finally she found herself looking up at his tanned skin and dark eyes, shaded by a weather-beaten cowboy hat. The whole image would have been almost funny, like a walking cliche, if he hadn't been so damn gorgeous.

The most alarming thing about him was the complete lack of emotion on his face. Miranda, of course, expected chivalry and apologies but given the scene inside the bar, she could have also understood a debasing, slovenly grin. But this man was blank.

"Oh, no! Miranda!" Gracie cried, throwing herself down beside Miranda and inspecting the damage. Miranda glared up at the man who had all but thrown her to the ground, glowering fiercely and readying herself to scream for the cops, as Gracie turned red in the face and balled up her fists before yelling, "Who do you think you are?"

"I'm the guy who was sent to fetch you and take you to Carson Hill Ranch, so get off the ground and let's go," he replied gruffly before turning and walking away without so much as offering his hand to help Miranda off the ground. The girls watched his retreating form in shock and would have refused to move from the spot if a few sweaty men engaged in a bar fight hadn't charged through the door just then, nearly running them over.

Gracie helped Miranda to her feet and began brushing at her sister's clothes, trying in vain to get as much of the deep brownish-red dirt off her while trying not to bring attention to Miranda's backside. "Do we really have to go with that awful man?" she whispered.

Miranda swallowed, then took a deep breath and released it. "I guess we do. But don't worry, when I meet my future husband, that jerk will be gone before the ink is dry on our marriage license." She gathered up the hem of her broomstick skirt and followed, Gracie running beside her and clinging to her arm.

They followed the man to a pickup truck parked beside the bus station and were glad to see that their suitcases were already waiting in the open bed. That meant that he at least was not going to expect them to load their own belongings. Miranda stopped short when the man, whom she could now see was not very old at all, climbed into the driver's seat and put his hands on the steering wheel, waiting for them to get in.

"Um, I'm sorry," Miranda began, trying—and failing—to keep her distaste for this guy out of her voice, "but where are my sister and I supposed to sit?" The rest of the truck cab was filled with various pieces of farm equipment and sacks of things he'd bought in the small store in town.

He slumped his shoulders and hung his head before answering. "I recommend sitting on those suitcases you brought with you. Just don't sit up too high, you're liable to bounce right out of the back. But wherever you sit, make sure you're nice and comfy. We have over an hour ahead of us and we won't be stopping along the way."

"AN HOUR?" Miranda shrieked, forgetting all of the diction she had carefully honed over the years working in an office building. Her face fell as he ignored her protest. She glanced at Gracie, who could only shrug her shoulders and place one high-top sneakered foot on the tire to try to hoist herself up. She made it into the dirty truck bed and reached for her sister's hands to help her, as their cowboy escort wasn't lifting a finger to assist.

Once they were more or less settled, the stern cowboy turned the key and put the ancient truck in gear before turning onto a dirt path, causing the ladies to grab suddenly at the rough hewn sides of the truck bed to avoid being thrown sideways from the jolt. Miranda shot daggers at the driver with her eyes. She didn't want to ruin anyone's first impression of her with a complaint about her new husband's staff, but this kind of behavior was completely uncalled for. Who cares if she met a guy online? She was still a human being and she'd had enough of men who treated her like she wasn't. She wanted to make sure she addressed the issue with her new future husband and pointed out the correct hired hand, so she leaned toward the open rear window of the cab.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," she said aloofly, not wanting to even pretend to have an interest in this rude man's affairs.

He didn't answer for the length of several long pauses, then he leaned toward the open driver's side window of the ride and spat out a head of wheat he'd been chewing on before answering with a tone of disgust.

"Casey Carson. Apparently, I'm your new husband."

#  Chapter Seven

Gracie gave a little cry of alarm and looked tearfully at Miranda, whose own features were frozen in shock. How could this crude man possibly be her husband? Where was the guy who'd been so kind and almost poetic in the emails? Sure, she'd never spoken to him on the phone, but he'd explained that they had to use satellite phones because of their location. It had made sense at the time. But how could she be expected to even ride with this guy for an hour, let alone get to know him? Thankfully, at least Gracie was there to run interference, such as she was. Miranda looked to Gracie and held out an arm, allowing the confused and frightened girl to sit close beside her in the protection of Miranda's thin hold.

Miranda closed her eyes against the oppressive heat and the indignation at being met by her new husband and practically tossed in the back of a vehicle like a sack of produce. Gracie began to sniffle softly beside her, the girl's fears about this strange place and Miranda's arrangement obviously becoming more and more real in her mind. For his part, their rugged driver barely cast a glance at their direction in the rear-view mirror as he drove, although he did toss an exasperated glance over his shoulder at Gracie when her sniffles turned into tears.

They rode in total silence over the miles of uneven terrain, the heat nearly causing Miranda to faint and the sounds of rushing wind drowning out any chance of talking. She wanted to take off her coat, especially now that it had been basically ruined by sitting in the hay rust and by having her baby sister cry all over its collar, but she wasn't about to do anything that resembled undressing in front of this man. It had been different when he was nothing more to her than a ranch hand sent to fetch her, but knowing that this man was her "Internet betrothed" made it completely out of the question.

She must have at least been daydreaming at one point, because she was suddenly jostled awake and thrown sideways from where she had leaned against one of the suitcases. Miranda sat upright, pulling Gracie up with her. She looked at the empty prairie and immediately felt afraid, worried about why they could possibly be stopping here with no structures in sight. Casey read her mind.

"Come down out of the back," he ordered, looking up at her when she didn't move right away. She pressed an arm in front of Gracie and moved the girl behind her, looking defiantly at Casey. "Please don't flatter yourself, I'm not gonna hurt you. If I wanted to violate someone, I could have had either of the girls back at the bar. Both, for that matter. At least they would have been willing."

Miranda felt her cheeks grow hot with the callous tone and lewd suggestion Casey made, not only to someone he had literally just met, but in front of her sister, too, her very under aged sister. She squared her jaw and crossed her arms in front of her, refusing to budge. Casey looked bored.

"You can come down, or I can make you come down. What's it gonna be?" He squinted up at her from beneath the brim of his hat, the sun forcing him to nearly close his eyes.

"What's it's going to be, _Mister Carson_ , is that you will turn this junk heap around and take my sister and me back to Hale, where we will board the next bus back East. I had no idea when I answered your friend request that a brutish lout would be waiting at the other end of the country."

"Yeah. Well, unless you plan to walk back to that bus, you're not going anywhere. You're sitting on the truck, and I'm pretty sure we've broken an axle. You have to come down so I can look at it and see if it can even be repaired." He began hefting their suitcases out of the truck bed and tossing them to the ground as Miranda and Gracie reluctantly helped each other down.

They sat on their luggage as Casey surveyed the damage to the axle. Finally, he declared they would have to walk the rest of the way to the ranch, his expression daring the ladies to argue with him. They looked at their belongings silently, wondering if there would be anything left of their suitcases when someone came to retrieve them.

Casey led the way as Miranda and Gracie stumbled over every rock and clump of hard-baked dirt, the pebbles tearing at the soft threads of Miranda's only good pair of shoes. After only a half hour of treacherous walking, she demanded an explanation.

"Why are we walking? Why can't we call someone to pick us up?" she asked huffily.

"First of all, do you see a cell phone tower around here anywhere? And second, everybody at the ranch is busy. There's not a minute of the day when someone's not working, and you don't go calling people from their work to do what your two legs are quite capable of."

"You don't have to be hateful about it," she answered hotly.

"Ma'am, if I was being hateful, I'd have let you sit there and wait for someone to come along. Instead, I'm telling you to move your pretty little asses. We want to be at the ranch by sundown because ugly things come out at night in this area." Gracie gasped quietly at the random use of profanity, and her reaction somehow seemed to soften Casey to some degree. He shot her an apologetic look, realizing his anger over the whole marriage situation was causing him to talk to these two women in a way that he hoped no one had ever spoken to his mother. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. But if you two will pick up the pace, we might make it to the house sometime today."

He turned to go, but Miranda boldly put a hand on his arm to stop him. He instinctively pulled away from her touch without thinking, then turned toward her. "Mr. Carson," she began quietly, "I can't help but feel like our being here is not at all welcomed. Why did you bother signing up on the Internet if you were going to be pissed off that someone would answer it?"

Casey stopped and looked off to the horizon for a minute as Miranda waited for an answer to her very genuine question. Finally, he spoke, looking directly at her for the first time since she arrived.

"I didn't place the ad, ma'am. It was placed on my behalf by someone meddling in my private affairs. Honestly, looking for a wife hasn't even crossed my mind, what with trying to keep a ranch with a few thousand head of cattle going."

"Did you say, 'a few thousand'?" Miranda asked nervously.

"Yeah," Casey answered, unsure of why she cared.

"So, how large is this farm I'm supposed to work on?" She swallowed down a lump in her throat, visions of a simple farm evaporating in her mind.

"It's about 800,000 acres, with 30,000 head at any given time. Why?"

"Mr. Carson, you didn't need a wife, you need a team of field hands to work that property!" she insisted, becoming more and more distressed and forgetting her composure.

For the first time since he'd been told that morning to fire up the truck and ride to retrieve his new wife, Casey Carson threw back his head and laughed, a sound that both alarmed and endeared him to Miranda just a little bit.

"Ma'am—I'm sorry, but I truly don't even know your name—you aren't here to work as a farm wife, although I would love to see you try to slaughter a hog and boil down the fat to make lantern fuel," he said, looking her attire up and down and smirking at her refined appearance. "You're here because my father is a lonely, crazy old coot who has big ideas about filling up the house with grandchildren to sit by his feet in his old age. We lost my mother years ago, and it's been nothing but men running ragged and leaving boots strewn across the floor since that time. My father thought marrying one of us off would make the place more like a home than a barn. And trust me, you'd have an easier time trying to slaughter that hog than getting my five brothers to get their elbows off the table and chew with their mouths closed."

Casey turned and continued walking, his laughter following behind him. Gracie clutched at Miranda's sleeve again and pulled her forward from where'd she'd stood frozen in place.

_Grandchildren?_ She hadn't even seen the house yet and certainly hadn't heard word of a minister and a ceremony, and already her future father-in-law had plotted her course. Miranda wasn't sure which was scarier, the thought of coming here to work her fingers to the bone doing farm chores from sun up until sundown, or having come all this way to be a brood mare for the old man's wishes for a family.

#  Chapter Eight

"Casey? Is that you?" Bernard asked, calling from the porch into the near darkness surrounding the main house.

"Yeah, Dad, we finally made it." Casey walked up the front path to the steps leading onto the porch.

"We? You don't mean to tell me you've brought your new wife in the dark?" The old man sounded indignant and alarmed.

"It was that or leave them on the prairie 'til morning, when I could go back and fix the truck. It broke an axle on the way home." Casey plopped down in one of the chairs on the porch and leaned his head back, closing his eyes as Miranda and Gracie waited nervously in the yard, eyeing the house with a small bit of satisfaction. At least it wasn't the shack both ladies had envisioned. Instead, it was a two-story structure with wide glass windows and a high peaked roof with a sprawling porch wrapping around the front of the building and disappearing on either side.

Bernard began to seethe, choosing his words carefully as there were ladies present, and strangers at that. He immediately stormed over to Casey and boxed him on the side of the head, not hard enough to do any damage but enough to send Casey out of his rocking chair.

"You made these ladies walk that distance? And what were you doing taking that piece of crap old truck in the first place? They should have been picked up in the car! Where are your manners? This is not how I raised you!" the old man stormed as Casey blinked in confusion. Bernard didn't wait for his son to answer, but limped down the wide steps to the ground and greeted Miranda. "I apologize now for my son, who does not usually have the manners—or the brains—of a mountain goat. I am Bernard Carson, the proprietor of Carson Hill Ranch. Please, come this way and I will see that you have every comfort." He held out the crook of his arm for Miranda's hand and led her into the house, gesturing to Gracie to follow. He shot Casey an angry, embarrassed look as he passed, assuring him that there would be further repercussions for the young man's treatment of their guests and newest family member.

The older man's sweet talk and charming smile worked to melt Miranda's heart and boost her spirits. At least someone in this wasteland would care if she lived or died. She followed Bernard's lead to the large kitchen of the house and for a moment, her heart sank. _I won't even get to wash the travel dust off me or rest in a chair before I'm required to cook something?_ she thought bitterly. Miranda was reassured when a cook appeared, tying an apron over what was obviously her housecoat and pajamas. Rather than be upset by the appearance of someone who was less than fully dressed and mad at herself for disturbing the cook, Miranda could only be grateful that the woman was more interested in feeding the weary travelers than maintaining decorum.

"This is Emily the Cook, she'll see that you are properly fed. In the meantime, I will send my son back out immediately to fetch your belongings and see to it that they are sent to your room. I did not realize you would be traveling with this young girl," he pointed to Gracie, "and did not prepare another room for her. Would it be okay if I move another bed into your room for her?" Bernard asked, doting on her like a loving father would.

"That would be wonderful, sir, thank you," Miranda replied, relieved.

"Oh, no, you must call me Dad. When the pastor comes to marry you, then you will be like my own daughter, the daughter I never was able to have," he said, a sad smile playing across his face as he patted both her hands. "But, for now, you eat, and then you'll get some rest." He said good night to Emily and walked out of the spacious kitchen, noticeably favoring one leg as he walked. His booming voice sounded through the house as he called for Casey to go back out on the four-wheeler and find their suitcases, leaving Miranda and Gracie to exchange a stupefied look and suppress a giggle behind their hands.

After a heavy meal of warm stew and crusty homemade bread, washed down with cold sweet tea, Miranda and Gracie followed Emily's directions and found their room at the top of the stairs. Because their clothing couldn't be expected to arrive until at least morning, if it ever showed up at all after being tossed out of the truck and abandoned on the prairie, both girls fell into their beds and slept soundly, not even bothering to remove their shoes.

Before the sun was even fully up and only a bare light filtered through the curtains, Miranda was startled awake by feet stomping outside her bedroom door. She pulled the thin covers closer to her and waited for something to happen, only to have the ruckus move on as the thundering feet and voices trailed down the staircase. Gracie hardly stirred during the disturbance, and Miranda decided not to wake her as she tried to find out the cause for alarm.

She stepped out of the bedroom and smoothed her rumpled clothes as best she could, straightening the seams on her slacks. As she tiptoed down the stairs and peeked into the kitchen, she was horrified by the sight she saw. Nearly twenty grown men were pushing and shoving for food that Emily had laid out on a long table as other kitchen hands shoveled food onto plates as fast as they could. Metal pans banged and scraped against every flat surface in an effort to get the food put out fast enough. Coffee sloshed all over the counter top and splashed to the floor as the men grabbed at the steaming mugs, reaching over each other to get to the plates and servings of food. Those who were seated at the table hunched over their plates like convicts in a prison trying to save their last scraps of food. Through it all, Bernard watched from his seat at the head of the unusually long table, a look of disappointed resignation on his face as he drank the last of his coffee and picked at a thick piece of toasted bread amidst the complete chaos going on around him.

His face lit up as soon as he spied Miranda in the doorway. He banged his heavy earthenware mug on the table top and shouted, "HALT!" Everyone in the room froze from the shock of the older man's outburst. He looked at the frozen faces around him and bellowed to those at the table, "STAND!" The cowboys at the table gave each other perplexed looks and tentatively stood from their chairs, their uneaten plates of food in front of them. Several of them kept their hands on either side of their plates, unsure of what was transpiring but knowing that their food had best not be pinched by a greedy hand.

"Good morning, Miss Billings," Bernard began. He looked around the room at the silent cowboys, then gestured to them to repeat him. A chorus of twenty voices awkwardly mumbled, "Good morning, Miss Billings."

Bernard addressed the group. "Gentlemen, this is Miss Miranda Billings, my son's future wife and therefore, my future daughter." Casey rolled his eyes as some of the men near him snickered. Bernard slammed his cup on the table again and the room went silent once more. "I expect she will be joining us for most meals, and as such, when a lady enters the room, you will stand as is polite. Whenever a lady is in the room, you will sit up straight, you will use your forks, you will use a napkin instead of your sleeve."

"What about the guy next to me's sleeve?" a voice called out, followed by rowdy laughter. Miranda felt herself blush at both the attention and the total disdain for the family patriarch.

"You, sir, will meet me outside after this meal," Bernard said in a threateningly dark tone of voice. The room became quiet again as the older man continued in a magnanimous voice. "I have extended an invitation to Miss Billings to bring some sense of decency back to what used to be my home...my wife's home." Several of the men dropped their heads at the mention of the former Mrs. Carson. "If she could see, and I believe that she can see us now, my wife would be heartbroken at the state of her family. I implore Miss Billings to turn this back into a home, rather than the barn it has become. You will finish your meals, you will place your utensils and napkins on top of the plates, then you will push your chair in and head to your work. Now, carry on."

Bernard sat back down in his seat and an awkward silence overtook the room. The reprimanded cowboys reached for their food and began to finish eating, casting sideways glances at Miranda. Bernard gestured to her to join him at the head of the table, waving over one of the kitchen helpers to bring a chair. "What would you like for breakfast, my dear?" he asked her softly, beaming at his new daughter.

"I think just some coffee and some toast," she answered quietly, thanking the helper when a plate of food and cup of hot coffee appeared in front of her. She shook out the paper napkin that was provided and was pleasantly surprised when a small dish of creamer and sugar appeared for her coffee. It felt weird being waited on because she was so used to being the one doing the waiting. She smiled at Bernard nonetheless and began to eat. Casey shot looks at her even as he continued to slap at the hands that teasingly patted him on the back.

"Would you meet me in my office after the meal?" Bernard asked. Miranda nodded and smiled at him. "We have to hurry, the next wave of hands will be coming in for their food as soon as these men clear out."

"How many hands are there on the ranch?" Miranda asked, wondering how even more men than these could fill the room.

"About fifty are employed here at all times, then an additional thirty or so are brought in for things like harvests or to make the cattle drive," he explained.

"Cattle drive?" she asked.

"Yes, when we bring a good portion of the herd north to Missouri, or sometimes to New Orleans, to sell at the markets or auctions."

"I didn't know people still did that. I mean, I've read about the Old West and see it in movies, of course. But, if you don't mind my asking, why don't you just load them up in those giant trucks?" She hesitated to ask, and hoped her questions weren't seen as coming from some johnny-come-lately newcomer who thought she knew everything. Miranda was genuinely interested in how the process worked.

"My father's generation did that for a time but of course, the trucks were smaller then and there were no massive interstate highways back then, just paved two-lane roads. We discovered that the animals arrived in very poor shape and several died along the way, even in trucks that could cover that distance in only a couple of days. Besides, it's become a family thing. We all take part, and we spend that time together." He smiled at Miranda and patted her hand.

She coughed a little and finally managed to choke out, "All?"

"Yes, all! But don't worry, you don't have to sleep on the open ground if you don't want to."

"Oh, goody!" she said with a smile.

"You can have the tent!" Bernard shot back, enjoying tormenting her a little bit in his good-natured way. "Even around the farm, though, we still do some of the work in the tried-and-true ways. Sure, we have radios to call each other and wifi even in the barn, but we still do a lot of the work on horseback. We tried modernizing when I was much younger, what with these fancy four-wheelers and fast pickup trucks, but we found that we spent more time trying to gather up the cattle that had been spooked by the engines. So much time, that these things weren't a time saver.

"And even though the cattle drive is not a tremendous distance, it is still dangerous for the animals and has to take place over several weeks. If the animals walk too far without enough rest, they will lose too much weight and become too unhealthy for the market. We do this several times a year, as we obviously cannot move the whole herd with only a few men.

Miranda nodded and finished her breakfast, amused at the man's statement that this mob of field hands was a "few" men. As she stood to leave the kitchen, everyone paused, many in the middle of chewing their food, looking first at Miranda and then to Bernard. The old man sighed, and said, "Well?"

The ranch hands stood uncertainly as Miranda turned to leave the kitchen, the young lady stopping first to thank Emily and her staff. She left the kitchen and smiled knowingly as twenty men flounced back in their chairs with relief and began eating like animals once more.

#  Chapter Nine

Bathing had never felt so good, even if the water was a tad bit colder than Miranda was used to. Back in her old apartment, there had been no bathtub, only a tiny walk-in shower that drained directly into the floor. Getting to sit in the mildly tepid water was still a luxury, one she had been warned about.

"The solar hot water heater provides us with the water," one of the housekeepers explained as she led Miranda to the bathroom. "but the tank is only so big. You can't exactly run the water all the way to the top of the tub. Just warning you!"

Here at the ranch, water was sent through pipes directly from the creek that ran off from a large river to the east. It went through a filtration process in a small building behind the house, and then was stored in cisterns close to the house. Several more larger cisterns erected near the barns provided water for the animals. The cisterns, built off the ground in places that received the most shade throughout the day, helped cool the water slightly. But with so many workers trying to clean the dirt of a hard day's work off their bodies, heating the water to a luxurious temperature wasn't always possible.

Fortunately, Gracie came to Miranda's rescue, entering the private bathroom with another pot of boiling water. "Move to the side, Miranda, this one is terribly hot." She poured in the still-bubbling water and Miranda moved the water around slightly with her foot, closing her eyes and reveling in the feeling of warmth that spread through the water. Gracie swirled the water with the still burning pot to add to the temperature a little.

"Gracie," Miranda began, her eyes still closed as she heard her sister move about the small room, squeezing some soap into the water and fluffing out a towel off the wall rack for Miranda to use when she was finished. "do you think this will work out somehow?"

"I don't know. What do you mean?" the girl replied, sorting through the clothes that had arrived during the night to find something suitable and appropriate to wear.

"This isn't at all what I had in mind. I mean, I knew there would be issues and obstacles, like getting to know each other and figuring each other out, but I never once imagined that the first hurdle would be a man who so clearly doesn't want me here, and his sweet father who obviously does. How are we going to make this work?"

"I don't have a clue," Gracie said with a small giggle. It felt good to hear her laugh again, and Miranda would marry a million strange cowboys if it could undo some of the damage Mike had done. "That older Mr. Carson would move a mountain to have a daughter, especially one like you, and he'd be the one who was lucky to have you in his family, not the other way around. So who cares what his son thinks of the situation? The younger guy didn't exactly threaten to kick you out of here. And he's really, really cute, if you don't mind me saying so."

"No, not at all. And I think you're right," Miranda answered. "Something about the older man does make people just want to be good. Look at the way the men responded to him, even the ones who have no ties to this farm other than being hired on. It was like they were being punished by their own fathers."

"But I don't understand. If you're not going to be some farmer's wife who scrubs the laundry on a washboard at the river," Miranda flicked water from the tub at Gracie for her outdated explanation. "What exactly will you be doing?"

"I don't know," Miranda sighed. "From what I've seen so far, I'm only here so I can walk into a room and make grown men behave themselves, men who should fully know better!" She and Gracie laughed again over the description Miranda had given Gracie about breakfast that morning. "But the older Mr. Carson is supposed to talk to me about that this morning, so let me get dressed and go see what he wants."

Gracie turned around as Miranda out of the bath tub and threw on her robe. She crept back to the bedroom to check on which of her outfits still looked halfway decent after being stowed in a suitcase for nearly a week and then spending the night on the ground. She returned with a dress no worse for wear, but maybe a little too dressy for the ranch.

"Thank goodness all I had was T-shirts and jeans. If you see any scissors around the place, would you bring them back with you? I'm going to cut off some of these jeans for shorts," Gracie reminded her.

"I'll do that. I'm afraid this heat will be the death of both of us if we don't wear some lighter clothing. The thought of putting on that dress is making me sweat so much, I'll need another bath before I ever get to speak to Mr. Carson."

"Um, have you noticed that no one dresses like that around here?" the girl asked, looking up from her book.

"Like what?"

"Like they're going on a job interview," she answered, pointing at the navy blue dress Miranda had spread out on the bed. "I've only seen a few other women here, and none of them wore dresses. Shouldn't we at least try to blend in?" Gracie hinted, more for her own comfort than Miranda's.

Miranda laughed, a hint of mischief on her face even as she pretended to be shocked by Gracie's suggestion. But after a moment's hesitation, she added, "Why not? Hand me my jeans out of the suitcase. It's not like any of these men will know the difference! If we didn't have udders, horns, and hide, they wouldn't even know we were in the room!"

Gracie smiled and finished helping Miranda dress and tie back her hair in a low ponytail, readying her to meet Mr. Carson in his office. When Miranda emerged from the bedroom and into the hallway, she could easily see down the wide stair case that the older man was sitting in his office, reading something in an oversized book as another man stood beside his chair. She walked down the staircase and approached the office, knocking gently on the frame of the open door.

"Miranda!" Bernard called out, his funny way of speaking making him stress the second syllable of her name in a way that was charming. "Please, come in, come in. You don't ever have to knock to enter this office." He stood up as she approached and pointed her to a chair near his desk. "Have you met my son, Anders? He is your new husband's younger brother."

_New husband_ , she thought to herself, a worried frown crinkling her face for only a moment. _That remains to be seen._ Even the thought of marrying the guy's son after the one conversation they'd had seemed not only stupid, it seemed downright impossible.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Anders," Miranda began. "I'm afraid I arrived not knowing there was such a large family here, but I hope to get to know you better very soon."

Anders smiled, then blushed to the roots of his hair and bowed slightly. He quickly left the room, his laptop tucked under one arm. Bernard sat back down behind his large oak desk and leaned forward, even as Miranda sat as straight in her chair as her business school education had taught her. For all practical purposes, this was exactly like a job interview, only for some reason, the job she was applying for was to be a wife.

"So, Miranda, what do you think of Carson Hill Ranch so far?" Bernard asked kindly.

"Well, it's so overwhelming that I really haven't had the chance to form an opinion. It's beautiful, of course," she added quickly to avoid sounding insulting. "and your men seem very attached to their lives here. I'm sure it will make a really great home," she answered primly.

"And I want you to think of it as your home. What I said this morning was not just posturing for the men or pretty words to impress you. There was a time when this house was nothing more than a lean-to, and my ancestors—and their new brides!—slept on the very ground. And they were so happy. Even when I finally met my wife," At this, Bernard turned a picture frame around so Miranda could see a petite, black-haired woman smiling back at her, her arms full of children of different ages, "this house was only about two-thirds of this size. Once I built my family's fortune back up and tripled the herd of cattle," Bernard's hand swept out in an open gesture to encompass everything in sight, "it was my sweet wife who brought a feminine touch to the ranch. It was no longer a homestead filled with animals, but a place for a family to really live."

"We lost her only a few years ago, shortly after giving birth to the angel who would have been my daughter. Both of them died only a few hours after the birth," Bernard explained, his voice dropping in volume as sadness washed over him. "Our home—and our family—has never been the same."

Miranda wanted to get up and go over to him, to wrap her arms around him. Something about the old man just seemed to bring out the best in people, herself included. She knew it wouldn't be the polite thing to do because they had only just met, so she could only nod her head quietly.

"But this is why we need you," Bernard continued, clearing his throat and washing away his emotion. "We need someone to make us remember that we are first and foremost gentlemen, not animal herders who happen to walk on two legs."

"What exactly will I be doing around here, though?" Miranda asked earnestly. "I'm sure I'll also need to earn my keep around here, just like everybody else does. I mean, I went to school, I have a degree in accounting but of course, I spent plenty of time waiting tables over the years. I'm not too proud to work in the kitchen or help out in other ways around the house."

"Well, yes, but I thought I would leave it to you to determine what your strengths are that you bring to the ranch. Of course, there's also the matter of my son..." Miranda immediately felt her face heat, a pink blush creeping up her neck from her chest. She was not about to discuss what she could be doing for Casey with his father. "...this wasn't entirely his idea. I take that back. This was not at all his idea. He is opposed to marrying a stranger but mostly, it is because he doesn't think he has the time for a wife and a family. He will come around, I promise you."

"And if he doesn't?" Miranda asked thoughtfully, ashamed at the thought that her future husband might reject her so coldly that she could barely bring herself to ask.

"Well, if that's the case, I would provide you with money for travel back to anywhere you wished to go, as well as compensate you for the wages you would have earned if you hadn't come out here. Of course, I have five other sons to choose from!" the man said with a laugh. "Surely one of them would be honored to have a smart, beautiful girl like you as his bride!"

Somehow, that suggestion only made Miranda grow even more morose. The thought of being passed from brother to brother until one of them was finally unwittingly saddled with her made the bile rise up in her throat. Damn Mike for putting her in this situation! Back in Newark, she had a good thing going, even if it wasn't perfect. Then she had to go and meet Mike and ruin what little good was happening in her life. Here, she had to make amends and hope her would-be fiancé so much as spoke to her.

"Now, let me be the one to ask you a few questions," Bernard began, lacing his fingers on top of his desk and staring at the wedding ring he still wore. "For instance, what makes a beautiful, educated, articulate girl like you go looking for a cowboy on the Internet?"

Miranda took a deep breath, knowing that she would have had to answer this question at some point sooner or later. "It really started out as a joke, if that's not too harsh a thing to say. My little sister..."

"Gracie, was it?" Bernard asked.

"Yes, after George Burns' wife, Gracie Allen. Anyway, she came to live with me after my mom died last year. She didn't have anywhere else to go, and believe me, I looked!"

"You two don't get along?" he asked, his eyebrows coming together in concern.

"Oh, no! Nothing like that! But with the age difference, I never really knew her that well and after losing our dad in Afghanistan when she was a toddler and then losing our mom last year, the last thing she needed was to be uprooted from her home and forced to sleep on the couch of my apartment. I'm really sorry to say it, but she's been on that couch this whole time." Now was probably not the time to bring up Mike's attempts at hurting Gracie, or the possibly criminal way Miranda had handled the situation.

"But how did she have a hand in you agreeing to marry my son?"

"Oh, that. To say that Gracie didn't like my boyfriend at the time is putting it mildly. And she's completely right, he was horrible and I'm glad to be rid of him. One day, she was just goofing off on the Internet and signed me up for this dating site, halfway pretending that maybe she could show me the really good, quality guys out there. Next thing you know, I was emailing Casey. Or at least I thought it was Casey, but I have a really good idea that it was you on the other end of the computer," Miranda said, narrowing her eyes slightly at the older man.

"I plead the fifth," he said simply, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

"I see. Well, there you have it."

"No, that only explains how you came to be on the dating site in the first place. Whatever made you decide to pack up and leave New Jersey?"

"Have you ever been to New Jersey? If you had, you wouldn't have to ask!" she answered teasingly. "But seriously, I was in a dead-end job, keeping the books for a small company, I had a sister to take care of, a boyfriend to get rid of, and an apartment that is literally smaller than this office. I hadn't done so well for myself up to that point, so I thought, 'Why not? I should go meet this guy and see where it takes me because it can't take me anywhere worse than I've already been'."

"There is a business matter to discuss," Bernard continued, his voice growing serious. "I have arranged for a parcel of land that neighbors Carson Hill Ranch to be put in your name as part of our arrangement. This piece is small, only a couple hundred acres or so, but it would be yours outright, regardless of your marital status. Your husband cannot sell it or develop it, not without your permission. If you decide not to go through with the wedding, I would sell it off. But if you do get married, it is your property, regardless of what the future holds."

Miranda sat up straighter, watching the man carefully. How was this possible? She'd practically been chased from Newark by her circumstances and now, this man was going to make her a property owner? She used to struggle to pay the rent on a one-bedroom fifth floor walk-up, how was it that she would own a small ranch?

"As for your duties here, of course, there will be some assisting within the house, probably with meal times and especially with holiday events. My wife used to make the biggest fuss at the holidays, and we really haven't celebrated all that much in the past few years. And then, I have two young sons who could use a firm tutor, and all of us could use a woman's touch around here when it comes to our manners. Someone to see to it that we actually follow through with Bible study and prayer times would be helpful, too, if you're religious at all. It used to be really important to my wife." Bernard moved some papers around on his desk as Miranda sat numbly listening to the list of her duties. It was a far cry from helping a homesteader pull a plow, that was for sure, but it was also no worse than filing papers from nine-to-five as a creepy boss tried to look down her blouse.

When she was dismissed, Miranda felt hopeful for the first time since climbing on that bus. This might actually work after all, especially with the very generous gift of her very own land. She felt lighter than she had in days.

So why did Casey Carson have to go and ruin that feeling, just by walking in the door?

#  Chapter Ten

Casey stopped short when he saw Miranda standing at the bottom of the staircase, one delicate hand on the gleaming wooden handrail. _Why in the hell did Dad have to go and bring her here?_ he thought sourly. _This ranch is no place for a lady, especially not one dressed like that. She'll ruin her clothes just by walking through a doorway, let alone stepping foot out on the farm._ He nodded curtly and kept walking, a small part of his mind aware that she was watching him go.

There was no point in making nice with her, especially when Casey had every intention of putting off this wedding idea of his father's for as long as possible. Long enough, hopefully, that she'd get tired of waiting and head back to wherever it was his father had found her. Ladies like her didn't belong out here, especially not ones who made hungry field hands who'd been up working since before dawn stand when she entered a room and eat with their elbows off the table. Meals weren't about social niceties, they were about getting enough food into you to hold you until the next meal, with hours and hours of back-breaking, sometimes life-threatening, work in between.

But there was one thing Casey knew a city girl could do for this ranch, and that was give Bernard something to do. The old man was really feeling the strain of being cooped up inside his own house, a house that he helped build with his own two hands in his younger days. There aren't many people on this planet who could have done what Bernard Carson had accomplished; if he wanted to spend his retired days being fawned over by a delicate daughter-in-law and bouncing grandbabies on his knee, that was not too much to ask after the decades of hard work he'd put into the ranch. And that work was all going to be left to his sons. Maybe it wasn't too much to ask that those sons show some gratitude by leaving the man a family legacy.

Casey shook off the thought and returned to the tack room to saddle his horse. He had fifty miles to cover before lunch break, and he was doing it on only a couple hours' sleep, thanks to that frilly girl and her stupid suitcases. Casey couldn't believe his father actually made him go back out in the dark and retrieve them, like they wouldn't have still been sitting there in the morning. It was no concern of his if she had to wear the same clothes two days in a row. Hell, half the men out here only owned two shirts and they wore them for a solid week at a time.

"Well, look who's able to walk around today," Jack called out with a leer in Casey's direction. "I'd a thought you wouldn't be able to get outta bed today, what with that pretty little woman of yours keepin' you up all night."

"Close your mouth, Jack. You and I don't have anything to say about that. Besides, she's not my wife and I didn't sleep with her." Casey kept walking toward his horse, reaching down the brush from where it hung on a nail inside the barn. He began scrubbing down his horse's flanks, readying it for the saddle for the long morning ride.

"Well, hell, if you ain't got her in the bed yet, I'm happy to step in, get her all ready for ya," Jack offered spitefully, laughing with some of the other men working among the stalls.

Casey balled both fists and stomped in Jack's direction, suddenly not too proud to beat a man who had to be at least fifty years old. For his part, Jack threw both hands in the air in surrender and took a step back.

"Don't go gettin' defensive now, young 'un, I'd hate to have to put you in your place in front of all these men. Remember, you might be up for ownin' this ranch one day, and when that day comes, you're gonna need ranch hands who are loyal to you. You don't wanna go pissin' on the men who are gonna care for your cattle and drive your herd, or accidents could happen," Jack hinted through clenched teeth.

"Any 'accident' that happens around here is going to involve your head under some stampeding hooves. You're not the only man who knows how to spook a horse until it throws its rider," Casey whispered in Jack's face, reminding the foreman of the suspicious death of a new ranch hand last year, his accusation thick in his words. "And 'that woman' is my future wife. You don't touch her, you don't look at her, and you sure as hell don't talk about her to me or to any other man. If you can't remember that order, you're going to find yourself about one hundred miles out into the desert without so much as a hat to swat the flies with. I swear to God, I will leave your carcass out there for the coyotes to tear in two."

Casey shoved Jack backward onto a hay bale with both hands and turned in the other direction, picking up his brush and resuming his animal's care while watching Jack through squinted eyes. Jack slunk away to lick his ego's wounds, glaring at Casey the entire time.

"I told you before, that one's dangerous," Carey said, coming up behind Casey. "Don't go making an enemy of him, or there's no telling what could happen out on the range one day."

"I'm going to speak to Dad tonight. That man has to go. He does nothing around here except cause trouble. He may have been a big help to Dad a few decades ago, but now...I'm not so sure."

"You're right. And by the way, when did you suddenly take such a liking to the little missus Dad picked out? I heard you call her your 'future wife'. So does that mean you're going through with it?" Carey asked, turning away from the group of men lingering among the horses to avoid embarrassing Casey.

"It doesn't seem like I have a whole lot of choice in the matter," Casey answered, sighing angrily as he cinched the girth on his saddle and buckled it, looping the long leather strap to keep it from dragging beneath his horse. "She's here, isn't she? And even if it's not my plan, I guess even I have to admit the thought of someone spending her day sitting around on the computer or playing on Facebook or whatever the hell it is girls like her do all day, is less than ideal. But spending it inside with Dad and keeping him company...I guess I can sort of admit that it wouldn't be a horrible thing."

"Whew, I'm glad you see it that way. Watching Dad get up on a horse and try to ride with the herd is enough to stop my heart. If he had someone in the house to keep him company and play Scrabble or something with him, maybe he'd leave this work to us. And besides, I'm sure you could have done worse."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Casey demanded.

"Well, she seems smart, and polite, and she sure isn't ugly. Maybe it's like Dad said, you get to know each other and you treat each other nice, then next thing you know, you're in love. Or something like that."

"Oh, really? Well, let's see if you're singing that same tune when it's _your_ turn!" Casey argued, punching Carey in the shoulder. "Maybe I found the only good looking, good smelling woman in the whole country! I bet the next online ad Dad runs brings us a whole horde of one-legged, cross-eyed girls, who smell like turnips and fart during meals!" He ducked Carey's playful swat at his head, and succeeded in losing his hat in the scuffle. The brothers tugged and shoved like they had when they were children, stopping only at the sound of static and a scratchy voice coming through the walkie-talkie attached to Carey's belt. It was followed only a minute or two later by hoof beats tearing into the dirt pen surrounding the barn.

"Hey guys! C'mon, there's a whole pack of coyotes heading toward the creek bed, and we have the Aubrac herd grazing down there now!" The hand who'd ridden in to tell them the news wheeled his horse around and headed back in the direction he'd come from, kicking up a cloud of dust behind him in his haste. Carey and Casey mounted their horses after pulling their shotguns down from the pegs inside the barn door.

The brothers and several other hands tore out across the ranch in the direction of the creek bed, quickly overtaking the hand who'd reported the sighting. It wasn't long before the stench of coyote urine, where the villains had marked their claim, rose up and filled their nostrils, agitating the horses with the accompanying scent of danger. The four-legged murderers came into view, some of the pack driving straight toward the herd, others circling around to come in at the cows from the other side.

"We can't head them off. We're gonna have to take them down," one of the ranch hands said, coming up beside Carey and Casey and leaning over his saddle to catch his breath.

"He's right, Casey," Carey agreed. "They're in too far. If we go charging in there after them, we're just as likely to cause the herd to stampede. They'll already be panicked because of the coyotes, and six horses barreling in there will be too much for them to handle."

"We can't go firing into the herd, either. You guys take out the ones heading toward them on this side, Thomas and I will ride around the other flank and try to reach the ones heading for the far bank." Casey nodded at one of their crew and together, they took off to the left, parallel to the creek, where the herd obliviously stood grazing and drinking from the gently moving water. Casey spurred his horse on, letting his hat fly off and hang from around his neck by its leather chord. They cut through the water, sending a wall of spray from their horses' hooves up on either side, cutting off their view of the aggressive scavengers for a moment.

When they emerged from the creek, several of the coyotes were already underfoot and yelping, scrambling to get away from the thick, deadly hooves coming down around on either side of them. At this range, Casey's shotgun would be no use, so he drew his revolver and took aim at the closest pack member, firing off a round that caught the animal right behind its front shoulder and directly into its rib cage. For his part, Thomas took out two of the larger animals as they lunged at the creek, directly in front of a heifer that startled at their sudden movement and swam toward the middle of the creek.

After shooting another coyote as it attempted to intercept a calf, Casey felt an odd tug at his boot and looked down to see a tan and grey coyote nipping at his boot, jumping at his horse's flank. The sudden scrape of teeth against hide sent Casey's horse rearing up, throwing him to the ground, knocking the breath from his burning lungs. His head connected with the rocks lining the creek bed, sending a throbbing ache through his skull that nearly blinded him. A sickening crunch sounded as pain shot up Casey's leg, his horse having stomped on his booted ankle.

As Casey writhed on the ground, a low moan escaping his parched mouth, he was blinded by the light of the sun directly overhead. He was startled when a face came into view, blocking out the light but backlit so as to almost be unrecognizable.

Almost.

But there was no mistaking the ugly, scarred face of Jack, the ranch foreman.

He leaned over Casey and said, "I told you accidents happen." Just then, the sound of a gunshot sounded so close to Casey, that for a moment, he couldn't find the source of it. An unfamiliar scream sounded, then went silent. Jack laughed over Casey's twisted, agonized face once more, then a boot kick to Casey's head made everything go dark.

#  Chapter Eleven

An unseen hand pressed a rag against Casey's face, blocking out what little light worked its way into the room. Heavy, dark quilts had been hung on the windows to bar the sunlight, with only a strip of yellow light peeking through at the edge of the blanket. Casey's hand shot out and grabbed the arm, ready to snap it in two. Only the feel of his long fingers closing together over the thin arm stopped him. He snatched the thick cover off his face and stared into the near-darkness, ready to do battle with this unseen assailant.

"Casey, stop. It's me," Miranda cautioned. Casey's tense shoulders relaxed, but she noticed his firm grip on her thin wrist didn't ease. He breathed heavily for a moment, trying to get his bearings, trying to remember how he had ended up in this room.

"Where am I?" Casey demanded.

"You're back in the house. In my room," she answered quietly, certain that his injuries must have left him with a horrible pain in his head.

"Why am I in your room?" he asked, still confused by the events.

"Well, it was that, or nurse your wounds in front of your brothers' snoring bodies," Miranda said, smiling a little. "I, for one, had no desire to sit by anyone's bedside, let alone with a crowd like those boys create. Besides, this room already had two beds because they brought one in for my sister. I could keep watch over you better this way."

Casey didn't say anything for a long moment, so long that Miranda wondered if he had slipped into unconsciousness again. Finally, she asked, "Do you remember what happened?"

He nodded a little bit, surprised by how much even that small motion hurt. "I was thrown from my horse this morning, chasing the coyotes away from the Aubrac herd."

"Well, you're only partly right. Only it didn't happen this morning. It happened two days ago."

"Two days!" Casey nearly shouted, starting to sit up but then thinking better of it when a wave of nausea hit him full force. "I've been asleep for two days?"

"Yes and no. You were in and out a good bit, but we had to keep you calm until the doctor could come set your collarbone. It's broken, I'm afraid. You've been asleep from the pain pills he left. They knock you out cold."

"I remember that. I felt a sharp pain after I fell off my horse."

"What else do you remember?" Miranda asked, concern creeping into her voice.

"Why? What's so important about falling off a horse?" he demanded, not very kindly.

"Maybe I should let your father speak to you," she suggested. Casey grabbed her arm again and pulled her by the wrist until she was close to his face.

"No. Tell me what's wrong. I can tell that something's wrong."

"Um...it would seem that maybe there was an accident," Miranda began hesitantly.

"What kind of accident? Where's Carey?!" Casey demanded, remembering that his brother had gone with him to protect the cattle.

"Oh, Carey's fine, don't worry. He actually helped bring you back here. No, it's the ranch hand who went around the creek with you...Thomas, I think they said?" she asked for clarification.

"What about Thomas?"

"I'm afraid he was killed." Miranda waited for Casey to explode but even in the darkened room, she could see that his face was concentrating, processing what she'd said. He shook his head for a moment before remembering how badly that motion hurt.

"That can't be right. Did he fall too?" Casey asked, sadness evident in his voice at the loss of the young hand.

"I really should get your father, and let him know you're awake." She started to rise up off the bed and turn to the door but Casey grabbed her once again, the intensity in the gesture frightening her more than anything she'd seen since coming west.

"NO! Tell me what happened!" Casey roared. Miranda stared, not sure she should say anything else when Casey was so upset.

"He was shot. In the back."

In a blinding flash, Casey remembered. He remembered seeing Jack's face leaning over his, and hearing the gunshot that must have been Thomas' death blow. He remembered the laughter just before everything went dark.

"Jack. Jack shot him," Casey whispered. Miranda leaned closer, telling him to repeat himself. "Jack was there, he shot Thomas. He'd argued with me just that morning and made some kind of a threat and when I fell, Jack leaned over me and laughed. I heard it, he shot Thomas."

"Unfortunately, that's not the explanation Jack has given. He claims Thomas made some inappropriate remark to you that morning, and that you lured him away from the group with the excuse of cutting off the pack of coyotes, but that you used that as a way to get Thomas alone instead, and that you shot him in the back."

"No, that's not true. Jack wasn't even with us when we set out to chase down the pack. How would he even know? Except he was there, waiting. He shot Thomas, and I can prove it. Where are my clothes?"

"They're over here, where I..."

"Where you what?"

"Never mind."

"Where you undressed me?" Casey asked sarcastically, fully realizing for the first time that he was covered only by the bed quilt.

"Someone had to," Miranda answered primly, answering Casey's sarcasm with her own. "It seems that mending broken cowboys who fall off their horses is also on the list of things I was 'hired' to do around here, besides breed, of course."

"Go to my belt and bring me my gun. I shot two coyotes. That means there should still be four cartridges in the cylinder." Miranda crossed the room and fished out the gun Carey had carefully replaced in Casey's belt holster before carrying him over on his own horse back to the house. She carried it with one tiny finger looped through the trigger guard, wanting as much distance as possible between her and the deadly device. Casey took it from her hand and spun open the cylinder, counting out the four bullets that remained. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"See? All four. And I bet the mangy bodies of those two coyotes are still out there on the creek bed, if the buzzards haven't cleaned the whole mess away by now. I knew there was no way I shot Thomas. That poor man..." With the situation resolved, at least in his mind, Casey had a chance to mourn the loss of an eager, energetic cowboy, gone for good because of one horrid monster's need for revenge. "You have to fetch my father. We have to tell him what happened before Jack skips the ranch and heads out."

"I believe you," Miranda said. "I'll let your father know you need to speak with him. But for now, you have to rest. You've got more thread than skin on your face, and you lost enough blood through the cut to the back of your head to sink a small ship. It took me a few hours just to get all your skin back where it goes."

Casey reached up and touched the stitch work, pulling his fingers back as pain shot out from around the cut. "You stitched this? Are you kidding me? Who let you take a needle to my head?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. And it's quite nice needlework, if I do say so myself. I actually know how to sew, and since it was looking like a good hour before a doctor could get here, I did it myself with the supplies in the medical kit. I was all for embroidering a lovely floral pattern, and I would have gotten away with it too, if your brothers had their way. But your father thought it might upset you to have a scar in the shape of a hyacinth." She smiled down at Casey in the dark, and he relaxed somewhat.

"So why are you out here in Texas instead of embroidering hyacinths to wear to your fancy office somewhere back east?" Casey asked, his voice dropping again. Miranda looked at him for a moment, gauging whether or not that question was actually intended to ask, "Why don't you go home?". Deciding that it was borne out of genuine interest in what brought her here, she answered.

"If you must know, I wasn't actually all that happy in my office back in Newark," she began. "It was...not the best life, for me or for my sister. I...I told your father some of this, but I didn't tell him everything. I didn't want to worry him, but more importantly, I didn't want to be here because he felt the need to take on a charity case."

Miranda proceeded to tell Casey only the most important parts of the story where Mike was concerned. She told him how she heard Gracie crying and went into the living room to find him on top of her, trying to pull her nightgown up.

"And I snapped. I had taken every bit of abuse and anger he had dished out but when I saw him trying to hurt Gracie, I went for the baseball bat he kept in the closet."

"And..."

"And I beat the crap out of him. I dragged him to the floor and beat him with that bat until he actually cried like a little girl. And then I got us the hell out of there. I called the police from a payphone and told them everything, then Gracie and I went to the bus station."

"And just like that, you came out here?" Casey asked, a look of disbelief crossing his face.

"No, of course not. I didn't know you—well, your dad—yet. We went to the bus station because we had to have a place to sleep that night. Yes, I parked my baby sister, the one a drunken man had just tried to rape, on a bench in the bus station and I sat watch over her all night, never closing my eyes for even a second, just in case someone far worse than Mike came along.

"So, rather than keep living in the apartment where she was attacked and I was beaten on a weekly basis, I answered your father's ad. Only I discovered upon my arrival that you weren't as excited about the idea as he was."

Casey's face fell as he remembered his harsh treatment of Miranda and her sister. Was that only a few days ago? He felt ashamed at having taken out his wrath meant for his father on this poor young woman who braved a cross-country trip to become a stranger's wife—a ranch wife, at that— to exact some measure of independence.

"I apologize for my behavior when we met. I promise it had nothing to do with you. I just resented the fact that I didn't have a choice."

"I feel the pain of not having choices every day," she answered softly.

"Yes, I suppose you do. But if it's any consolation, it wasn't you. I would have been an ugly jackass to anyone who had showed up after answering my father's ad. Oh, wait, what was it you called me? A 'brutish lout'? I can sort of figure out that it's not a good thing to be called, but where did you even come up with a phrase like that?"

"Well, let's just say I'm a big fan of British literature. Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, you name it. And besides, I've had more than my fair share of brutish louts lately," she replied, surprised that he remembered her angry insult. "I know my way around a good lout. First, there was my disgusting ex-boyfriend. Then, there's a certain cowboy who is too full of his own affairs to look into the needs of others," she nudged Casey gently with one finger. "and finally, the most disgusting man I've yet had the displeasure of meeting. How anyone can abide being in Jack's presence for more than a few seconds is unfathomable."

Casey fumed with anger again, remembering Jack's disgusting offer to have his way with Miranda. He thought of other things to avoid throwing off the bed covers and charging down the stairs that very moment.

"So, how long until I'm out of this bed and back at work on the fences, Doc?" he asked Miranda playfully.

"Well, that depends entirely on the behavior of the patient. You are a perfectly agreeable ward...when you're unconscious. The times when you've been awake, you've been quite a handful, what with your trying to get up from the bed and the attempts at ripping out my needlework," she teased.

"I'm afraid you're going to learn that I'm always easier to deal with when I'm not awake," Casey said, his voice taking on a serious tone he hoped would serve as the warning he intended. Miranda was quiet, all humor put aside at Casey's statement.

"And I'm afraid you're going to find I'm always easier to deal with when I'm spoken to respectfully, when I'm treated as an equal, and when I'm not expected to pull the bloody clothing off a near-corpse and try to put all of its pieces back together," she whispered, dropping the barricade she had first put up around her demeanor and letting Casey know how much his accident had scared her. "I am not too proud a person to admit to you that it was almost heart-stopping to see your pale, still body with the blood dripping off of you, and wondering if I'd come all this way only to become a widow before I even became a wife."

That was all it took. The iron cage Casey had locked his heart into on the day his father had decreed this marriage broke apart, freeing him to finally see the creature fate had put in front of him. He sat up suddenly and took Miranda's soft face between his weathered, work beaten hands and kissed her lips, letting the warmth of her mouth ignite the part of him that had kept her at arms' length, burning away the emptiness he had sentenced himself to.

Miranda stiffened at the abruptness of his unexpected kiss, but immediately relaxed as the feeling of his mouth on hers erased all tension in her body. She placed her hands over his and returned his kiss eagerly, delighting in the feeling of desire that built in her, a feeling she'd never experienced before with Mike. When his mouth parted hers gently, she was surprised by the sensation of his tongue playing across hers, awed by his reaction as much as hers. Too soon, he pulled away, still holding her face softly as he spoke to her in earnest.

"I am so sorry," he began, his embarrassment evident even in the darkened room. "I don't know what came over me, I just knew I had to kiss you."

"That's all right, _Mr. Carson_ ," she teased, answering him tentatively, shocked by how hard it was to slow her heart beat and quiet her breaths.

"It's Mr. Carson again, is it?" he teased. "I hope you don't go kissing every Mr. Carson on the place like that. There's quite a few of us, you know."

"Only the ones who throw themselves at me," she shot back in jest.

"My name is Casey," he answered. "I want to hear you call me Casey."

"All right...Casey. And I'm Miranda. Miranda Billings."

"And I've made a decision. I want you to become Miranda Carson. Today, if we can."

#  Chapter Twelve

"Today?" Miranda asked, blinking her eyes in surprise.

"Yup. I know all I need to know about you," he answered confidently.

"And what do you think you know about me?" she asked skeptically, leaning back and crossing her arms. "Apart from the way I kiss, I mean."

"I know your favorite flower is a hyacinth," Casey began, sitting up and taking her hands in his. "I know you have a sarcastic sense of humor. I know you're good to my father and would never say a cross word to him. And I know you're capable of killing a man if he hurts someone you care about. That is all I need to know about you to be sure I want to marry you."

"I never said my favorite flower was a hyacinth," Miranda whispered, still too dazed to argue.

"No, but you wouldn't have sewn it into my forehead if you hated it. You were only joking, but it would have been your mark. Like Zorro. A flower petaled Zorro." Casey smiled at her, really seeing her for the first time.

"I'm not even sure it's actually legally possible to get married today," she answered. "Besides, don't these things take time? Aren't I supposed to be courted and wooed first?" She batted her eyelashes at Casey coyly, making him laugh even harder, before turning serious again. "There's also the matter of clearing your name. There is still an unsolved murder here, and word is spreading that you're the one who shot Thomas."

"That we can easily prove, we just need to get our hands on Jack. I'm sure he's long gone by now," Casey mumbled angrily.

"Actually, no, he was picked up as a person of interest when someone else came forward and said you two had been the ones arguing that morning." Casey smiled at the news. "But, you need your rest and I need to go downstairs to meet with your dad. He does love his meetings, doesn't he?"

"Oh, yeah, but you'll get used to that. And it's weird, but I'll sit in that office of his anytime he wants me to if it will keep him off a horse or out from under the hooves of the herd. He's pretty spry for his age, but even he forgets from time to time that he's in his seventies."

"Wow, that's quite an age difference between him and his kids. Were you guys all surprise babies?" Miranda asked, embarrassed to be butting in on the family business.

"Oh no, he just married late. I guess that's some of what's driving his little shenanigans with trying to marry us off. He doesn't talk about it much but when he was young, this farm was barely hanging on. There were plenty of times they almost lost it to the bank, and it sure didn't have anywhere close to the acreage it has now. He worked himself like crazy to not only save it, but to also protect it for the next generation. He met Mom when he was in his forties, I think, and she was a good bit younger."

The more Miranda heard about the inner workings of the family business, the more intriguing it sounded. There was a sense of history here, something she could never have as someone who'd lost everyone, everyone but Gracie, of course. It was more than just romantic ideas that kept her thoughts with the Carsons, but more about the feeling of looking for something she'd never even known she'd lost.

"Your dad wants to talk to me about the cattle drive, for some reason," she began, looking to Casey to see if he might know why. "I think he has plans for me!"

"Are you thinking about going?" he asked hopefully, sitting up taller and placing a pillow behind his back.

"I can't say it's something I've ever dreamed of doing," she admitted, looking kind of sheepish. "but it sounds like it might certainly be an adventure. I would really just worry about being in the way, or making someone have to stop working to take care of me." She looked at Casey pointedly, letting him know her remark was directed to him.

"If you've ever seen anything like cattle drives in the Old West...it's a lot like that, but it's also completely not like that. Sure, we still sleep outside and we take our meals out of the 'chuck wagon', but that chuck wagon is a four-wheel drive rolling mini kitchen. There's a follow-behind vehicle for emergencies that meets us at different points along the way, and one of the trucks that meets us at each checkpoint even has fold out shower stalls. We do take turns getting a shower, depending on what day it is, because you're right...we're there to work, not to have a vacation. But it's nothing like the olden days when you might die of a scorpion sting because there was no way to get help."

"I think it would be an awesome thing to do as a family, gathering your kids and taking off for a few days..."

"Um...days? The cattle drive is about two weeks long," Casey said, cringing as he waited for her reaction, which was sure to be loud and screechy.

"Oh. I didn't realize it took so long. Well, I'm sure it will be interesting at the very least."

"It will be and if you're going, I'll make sure you enjoy yourself," he offered, but in a concerned way, not a provocative way like most other guys might have meant it.

"Oh, no, you don't, Mister! You're not going anywhere on that leg! How can you possibly drover cattle for two weeks in a cast? The trip is only three weeks away. There's no way you'll be healed enough to go." Miranda's eyebrows knitted in concern, picturing Casey being thrown from a horse or crushed while trying to navigate the trip on a broken leg.

"Hey, I appreciate your concern, but I'm a Carson and I have a job to do. Even if I have to drive a truck or cook the food, everyone pitches in around here. If you can't do one job, someone'll be sure to step up and find you another one. Speaking of which, how are you keeping busy since you got here?" he teased. "There's plenty of stalls out there that need shoveling."

"There will be time for shoveling horse poop after I am done dealing with your crap," Miranda shot back sarcastically. "Now you need your rest," she said, rising from the bed. "I'll be back later to check on you." Casey grabbed her hand as she started to leave, turning her around to face him.

"Thank you, Miranda. For helping me, and for staying. I really mean that." He looked so little-boy-lost, her heart froze in her chest for a beat. She leaned down and kissed his soft mouth, letting her hand come to rest on the warmth of his scruffy cheek. She stood up and left, smiling to herself.

#  Chapter Thirteen

Bernard hung up the phone and looked out one of his office windows, noticing the group of five kids following behind their teacher in a cluster, headed off to do something no-doubt science related in a field somewhere. He was thrilled to see that Gracie no longer hung back behind the four rowdy boys like she did when she first arrived, but was right in the middle of the fray, pushing and shoving as much as any other ranch dweller. It was amazing what change a few weeks of sunshine, fresh air, and farm life had done for the quiet girl who'd seemed so lost, so out of place when she arrived.

"Boys! Come in here a second!" Bernard called out when his two oldest sons passed his office door. "I was just about to come outside and tell you."

"What's up, Dad?" Carey asked as they both settled into the chairs facing the older man's desk. Casey leaned back and stretched out his injured leg, glad to be in a walking cast now and enjoying the easier mobility it brought him. Maybe he wouldn't be stuck driving a rolling grocery store during the drive, after all.

"That was the county district attorney on the phone. Jack confessed!" he yelled, smiling broadly. A weight had been visibly lifted from his shoulders at the news that his son would be free of this shadow over him.

Carey threw an arm around Casey's shoulders and congratulated him. "So this means Casey can go on the drive now?"

"Wait, what? You two weren't going to let me go?" Casey demanded, hearing this news for the first time.

"Not us, son, the prosecutor. He agreed to let you stay on the ranch because...face it...where were you gonna go out here? That's why they didn't bother locking you up while they sorted this out."

"Well, that, and plus the fact that you own the largest family-owned ranch in this half of the state, right?" he shot back, wondering if money had changed hands over his not having been arrested.

"No, son, nothing like that. They just knew there was no evidence of wrongdoing on your part. The only reason they were able to keep Jack so long is that he had warrants out for his arrest and had failed to check in with the parole office every time he went out on the drives. It was just a technicality, but it was enough to keep him locked up until this was underway. But, enough about that. Sometime later today, we need to talk about the logistics of who we're placing in what roles next week."

They agreed to meet later, and the twins went off in search of lunch. Casey's heart danced a little when he entered the kitchen with the second wave of hands and found Miranda, elbow-deep in cleaning a pot leftover from the first lunch wave. He tapped her on the shoulder but before he could speak, Emily barked, "Don't you even think about taking that one! She's the only one around here who doesn't mind getting her prissy fingers a little dirty when giving my pans a good scrubbing!"

The other helpers in the kitchen shot pretend looks of rage in Emily's direction before laughing out loud. "We just knew you'd give Miranda the scrubbing duties if she did it better than we did!" They doubled over, patting Miranda on the shoulder as they did to let her know it was all in good fun.

"In that case," Emily bellowed, "get her outta here. These two can take over. 'Course, it'll take the two of them to equal the work of one Miranda!"

Miranda wiped her hands on a dish towel and threw it over her shoulder, accepting the plate Casey held out and following him to their usual spot on the back porch, where they'd been eating lunch together recently. Between these stolen lunch dates and the few times they'd been able to spend the evening sitting together in the rocking chairs on the front porch, there wasn't enough time in the day to just get to visit and get to know each other. But the times that she did get to spend with Casey, rocking side by side and holding hands, she knew it was something she could see herself doing for the rest of her life.

Casey took her plate from her hand as she settled on one of the steps, then handed it down to her before joining her. He took a long drink of his sweet tea before starting to eat. "Been busy today?" he asked around mouthfuls of food, something Miranda didn't mind because time was of the essence during all the mid-day meals. It was eat and talk or eat _or_ talk, which explained the atrocious table manners Bernard had hoped she would fix in all of his men.

"Not terribly busy, mostly just pitching in here and there. I helped Gracie with the stalls this morning, just to catch up with her a little bit. I feel like she's always on the go out here," Miranda said with a laugh between forkfuls. "But it warms my heart every time I see her out riding or even doing some mindless chore other kids might complain about. She had the chance to ride on the back of the hay truck the other day and call out to the driver to let him know if anyone fell off the back, and you'd think she'd been given the job of driving it instead of just sitting there!"

"Wow, that's a real testament to what the other guys think of her," Casey explained, pride showing through in his voice.

"Why do you say that?" Miranda asked, alarm rising in her tone.

"Because that's not a real job," Casey admitted, smiling weakly as he explained. "No one's going to fall off the hay truck and even a guy somehow managed it, the hay truck only goes about fifteen miles an hour. The guy could just run and catch up to it. It comes from that old phrase, you know, 'He just fell off the turnip truck!'. They just want her to feel included around here, and...well...word kind of got out about what almost happened to her back in New Jersey. The guys just want her to feel safe and needed, but more importantly, it's a way to keep an eye on her. Nothing can happen to her if she's busy doing something under their big brotherly watch."

Miranda was speechless. She knew that many of the hands here at the ranch were the children and even grandchildren of former ranch hands at Carson Hill, but to know that they truly felt like a family left her speechless. She teared up a little bit at the knowledge that some fifty burly cowboys were looking out for her sister, protecting her in a way Miranda had not been able to.

"Hey now! What's wrong? Why so sad?" Casey asked, brushing Miranda's hair back from her face. She started to cry for real when he noticed, so he slid closer and held her to him as she let out some of the emotion that had stayed firmly locked inside her since getting on the bus that had brought her here.

"I'm fine," she sniffled. "Really. It's just so great the way these guys care so much. They're so busy, most people wouldn't want a surly thirteen-year-old underfoot. It's really special that they would go to the effort to watch out for her. Like the way you watch out for me."

Casey held her and rocked slightly, murmuring his agreement. He lifted her chin with a gentle finger and looked down into her eyes. "That's what our family means to us. It's what you mean to me." He bent down and kissed her softly, feeling her melt into him as another piece of the anger and pain that had kept her at arm's length slowly broke off and fell away.

"Oh, geez, I'm so sorry," he said, sitting up and looking around. "I have to get back. I had no idea what time it was. I'll find you sometime after dinner, okay?" He stood up to go and offered her his hand to help her up, then quickly kissed once more before running back through the kitchen toward the barn, leaving both of their plates on the counter top as he passed. Emily beamed when he called a brief "thank you for lunch" to the kitchen staff, and the surprised woman then looked to Miranda and nodded her approval. Miranda laughed quietly, watching as more and more ranch hands stood up and left the kitchen in a far more orderly way than she'd ever seen, most of them stacking their plates near the sink and mumbling a quick thanks as they passed.

"I don't know what kind of witch power you have over him, honey, but I'll take it!" Emily said, causing the younger ladies to openly laugh. Miranda just returned their smile and gave an exaggerated sway of her hips as she walked the length of the kitchen. She stopped at the door, turned, and shot them a knowing look, only making the three women laugh even harder at her antics.

#  Chapter Fourteen

The three men—Bernard, Casey, and Carey—talked late into the night about the plans for the drive. Seamus and Jacob had long since left to do their homework and go to bed, and Joseph had fallen asleep on one of the sofas facing the empty fireplace. Anders had tried to stay up but was slumped over at the desk next to his laptop, asleep with his head folded on his arms.

"With this many head to move, and this many outsiders coming along on the trip this time, we're going to need everyone," Casey argued again as his father and his brother tried to convince him to take a less physically taxing job. "Besides, I don't need two feet to ride a horse."

"Hmm, that sounds a lot like the argument I've been using for years every time you two try to talk me out of the saddle." Carey and Casey exchanged a guilty look. "I'll let you keep to the front, but you have to swap out days. One day in droving, one day driving the truck. And that's my final answer. If you are hurt again, we'd be days from getting you help. It's not just about you this time, either, but if we had to wait for medical crews, we could lose half the herd while people attended to you."

Casey nodded, irritated at being stuck in the back of the drive like a little girl, but knowing his father was right.

"Did you really invite Miranda?" he asked, changing the subject off his injured leg.

"Didn't you want me to?" Bernard asked, worry coloring his expression. "I thought you two were getting along great. I just assumed you'd like having her along."

"Oh, I guess I do," he answered nonchalantly, not fooling the other two for even a second. "I just didn't know what you expect her to do. She's adapted pretty well out here, but she still doesn't really know what goes into making the drive."

Carey spoke up. "What if we put Miranda in charge of the city people?" he asked, speaking of the dozen or so people who paid decent-enough money to make the trip, like a working vacation for people who didn't get to spend enough time outdoors. Their presence on the drive was almost never helpful, and every so often, they were actually very much in the way.

"Well, that would be a good job for her," Bernard agreed, "but what would she do? You can't put someone in charge who hasn't been on the drive before."

"Could Paul and Gary help her? We've been looking for a way to include them, but they're just not up for it this year. Paul just had surgery last month and Gary only finished chemo three months ago. This way, they could be useful and be needed, but not have to do anything they aren't physically ready to do."

"That's a perfect idea, Carey!" Casey said with a grin. "They've done this so many times, they could do it blindfolded in the dark, so they'll get to help out and the city people will have two seasoned drovers to look out for them."

"I like it," Bernard said, agreeing. He was too close to the days when he'd no longer be able to go on trips like this either, and hated to think of leaving anyone behind because their frail bodies betrayed them. "Okay, wake those two up and let's all get some sleep. Casey, I want to talk to you for just a minute before you go to bed."

A little while later, Casey knocked lightly on Miranda's bedroom door, hesitating in case she had already gone to sleep. He was about to turn away when she opened the door a crack, keeping out as much light from the hallway as she could so she didn't wake Gracie. Casey's heart nearly stopped at the sight of her in faded flannel pajama pants and a soft, worn-out t-shirt, with no makeup and her hair in a loose ponytail. She had never looked more beautiful.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly, looking around in the hallway for any sign of a problem.

"Nothing, I'm so sorry I woke you up. I didn't get a chance to talk to you after dinner, and I wanted to know if you wanted to go do something with me tomorrow."

"Really?" she asked with a broad grin. "Just the two of us?"

"Don't get too excited," he warned playfully. "It's just one of those chores we have to do every so often, but it takes all day and I thought you might like to come along and keep me company."

"Sure!" she said, still trying to whisper.

"You don't even know what it is," he joked. "How do you know I'm not taking you out all day to dig around in the pig pen?"

"I wouldn't care," Miranda promised him, a content expression on her face. "There's so much to do around here, there's just never enough hours to get to know you. I'm sure whatever we have to do, you'll make it fun."

"Well, it is partially a picnic. I'll wake you up at four, okay?"

"FOUR? You mean, the four that happens in the morning?! You didn't say it was a breakfast picnic!" she said in mock horror.

"Well, it's a breakfast-lunch-late-snack picnic and if we run into any trouble, it becomes a dinner picnic too. Dress comfortably!" He kissed her quickly goodnight and turned to head down the stairs and back to the field house beside the barn, where he'd been sleeping since she arrived. Miranda watched him go, enjoying the view of his tight-fitting t-shirt and well broken in jeans, fitted to his hips just so, the effect both accommodating his work belt and making her knees go weak. He looked up at her from the front door and waved goodnight and Miranda closed the door softly to her bedroom, crawling in bed once more and giggling to herself at the thought of getting to spend the whole day getting to know Casey better.

The next morning, Casey knocked on her door and finally opened it slightly when she didn't answer. In her mind, Miranda had been having another nightmare about Mike, dreaming he'd come after her and found her. When the door to her room opened, she sat bolt upright and yelled quietly, her breath coming too fast.

"Hey, Miranda, you okay?" Casey called from the safety of the hallway. It took her a few seconds to answer as Miranda looked around the darkened room frantically, trying to get her bearings. Even after she realized she'd been dreaming, and unsettling feeling still plagued her.

"Yeah, sorry. I'll be right out," she answered, turning and placing her feet on the floor. Thirty minutes later, she stepped out of the dark bedroom and pulled the door shut behind her silently so as not to wake Gracie. She turned and screamed when Casey was right behind her, then stared wide eyed as he placed a hand over her mouth to keep her from waking everyone on that floor.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, taking his hand down after he saw she recognized him. She nodded silently and started down the staircase. Casey took her hand and led her to the kitchen to grab something to eat before they headed out, and Miranda was surprised to see Emily and her staff already at work, whisking dozens of eggs into a giant mixing bowl and rolling out whole piles of dough to make biscuits. Behind the counter, another woman laid out strips of bacon on a long metal sheet, tearing them off of what looked like an entire pig's worth of the meat.

"Did you wake these people to make us breakfast?" Miranda asked, worried for their lack of sleep. Casey didn't get the chance to answer before Emily called out.

"Oh, honey, don't worry about us. The first group will coming for breakfast in about thirty minutes." She went back to rolling out dough and cutting out the biscuits with an upside down water glass. Miranda frowned. If the first group would eat soon, that meant that all over the ranch there were people already up and about their business. How much work went on behind her back as she lounged in her bed? Miranda vowed to take a more serious interest in helping out.

"You ready for this?" Casey asked, leading her to the front door of the house. Outside, a massive vehicle waited parked at the end of the path that led to the road. The only way to describe it would have been if a pickup truck and an Army tank had decided to have a baby. Its six enormous tires—two in the front and four in the back—reached higher than Miranda's waist, and the window had been replaced with basket-woven strips of heavy duty fabric.

"Thinking of taking the truck for a spin?" Miranda teased, eliciting a huge, men-and-their-toys grin from Casey.

"You'll see why we need it today!" he bragged. He reached above his head and opened Miranda's door for her, then helped boost her up into the seat. "There's a regular seat belt here, but this harness above your head will come in handy later for more difficult terrain."

Casey closed her door and came around to his side, opening his door and leaping in, making sure to push off on his good leg. He buckled his own seat belt and turned the ignition switch, once the thunderous engine had started, he let it idle for a moment to warm it up.

Through her open windows, Miranda could hear some of the animals protesting in fear from within the barn and finally understood what Casey had meant once about using the horses around the ranch instead of vehicles because they were less frightening to the herd.

He put the large truck in gear and swung out onto the dirt road that ran in front of the house. The row of headlights across the front and the top of the cab illuminated the road ahead, sending dozens of animals scurrying out of the way. When Casey pointed to something out Miranda's window, she gasped when she saw two pronghorn antelope eating on the side of the road, looking for all the world like they were chewing thoughtfully.

"They're protected, you can't hunt them here," Casey explained about the bored-looking animals. "They know we can't touch 'em!"

Miranda continued to stare out the windshield, leaning forward and placing both hands on the dashboard to get a better view. Casey grinned at the sight of his city-slicker, entranced by the sight of wildlife within arm's reach.

They drove for almost an hour, but turned off the wide dirt road just short of reaching the pavement that signaled the beginning of the town. The truck bounced and jostled for the first few hundred feet as it moved over the rain-washed gulley separating the ranch from the limits. Miranda gripped her door handle and her seat to avoid being thrown around the truck's interior, even with her seat belt firmly in place.

After the road, such as it was, leveled off some, Casey explained their errand. "Every so often, we have to drive the property line and look for problems."

"What kind of problems?" she asked, a hint of fear creeping into her voice.

"Oh, nothing terrible, but fences with holes in them, sink holes, places where someone may be squatting on the property, evidence of poachers, stuff like that. We wouldn't even handle it ourselves, we'd just make a note of it and let Dad know. If it's bad enough, we could radio back for someone to come out here." Miranda relaxed and leaned back into the oversized captain's chair again, watching out her window as the sun crept up over the hills in the distance, lightening the sky as it came into view.

"So, have you ever wanted to do anything besides work the ranch?" Miranda asked, not leading the conversation anywhere, but just making small talk.

"Nope."

"Never?"

"Never."

"Not even in a fit of teenaged rebellion?" she asked, curious at how someone could know from the moment he was born that he would work the farm.

"Nope. I've always known this is exactly what I want to do, and exactly where I want to be." He reached back behind him and retrieved a cloth bag, and handed it to Miranda with instructions to grab their breakfast. She passed him a wrapped biscuit and pulled out two thermoses of coffee, opening her own biscuit and nibbling at Emily's handiwork. "But what about you? Did you always want to be an accountant?"

"Oh, please. I don't think anyone ever dreams of being an accountant!" Casey laughed at her response before she continued. "No, it just seemed like something that would pay well and if there was one thing I learned growing up, it's that life is uncertain. You can't wait for someone to take care of you, you have to have a hand in it, too."

"I'd like to take care of you," Casey said, looking over at her briefly before looking back at the road in front of him. Miranda shuddered at his words, thrilling again at the man sitting next to her.

"How about we try to take care of each other instead? You know, give and take?" she offered, watching his face for any sign that he wasn't pleased at the thought. Instead, he smiled and picked up her hand, placing a kiss on her palm before putting both hands back on the wheel.

They drove along in near silence for some time, Casey pointing out things for Miranda to write in the small book he'd brought. He called out coordinates from the GPS mounted to the dashboard, having Miranda repeat them back to him as she wrote.

When lunch time finally rolled around, they had covered almost 400 miles of property line, with more left to cover. Casey veered the truck off the dirt path near the edge of a bright green pasture filled with gently flowing knee-high grass. He jumped down and pulled some items from the back of the truck bed, then went to work building a makeshift shade from a tarp tied to the sides of the truck and staked to the ground at the opposite corners with tent stakes. He helped Miranda down and handed her a quilt to spread out as he pulled down a cooler of drinks and a large plastic tub filled with their lunch.

"So, what do you think of the grand tour?" Casey asked as he put sandwich fixings and cold drinks back in their containers following their lunch. Miranda, content from a full lunch and a warm sun, leaned back against the large tire, Casey beside her.

"It's gorgeous, but how do you manage so much empty space?" she asked, marveling at the expanse of property. "You would need a helicopter just to look at it all!"

"You know, we've had to do that from time to time, especially if we lost a member of the herd."

"You mean, the ranch, right? You said the herd."

"No, I meant the herd. Of course, we'd go looking for a human member of the bunch too, no question. But if any of the herd wandered off, we'd go after 'em. Those animals make a fine steak but as long as they still have a heartbeat, they're every bit as much a part of the ranch as you or me."

"You think of me as part of the ranch?" Miranda asked softly.

Casey looked at her squarely before answering. "I absolutely do. You're here with us but more importantly, you stayed. You could have left. My father even offered to pay your way and compensate you for your time. Yes, I know about that part. But you stayed. That makes you part of the ranch, every bit as much as any Carson on the place."

Miranda was speechless. It had been so long since she had been a part of something bigger than just herself or Gracie's life, it felt good to belong, even if the circumstances that landed her here were a little different. She leaned her head against Casey's shoulder and simply enjoyed being beside him.

"Now seems like as good a time as any," Casey said, breaking their comfortable and content silence. "I had another reason for bringing you out here today. First, I wanted to show you the land that you would belong to if you decided to stay. But more importantly, I want to make your staying on with us official."

He reached into his jeans pocket and withdrew a small black velvet ring box and held it between his hands for a moment. "I wanted to take you away from the house for a while, away from the hordes of people who might influence you, so I could ask you this.

"Miranda, it took me long enough to stop being a stubborn idiot and to realize I am in love with you. I would be honored if you would be my wife. Will you marry me?"

Tears ran down her cheeks as Miranda nodded her head, throwing her arms around Casey and kissing him forcefully on his full lips. He pulled back for only a moment, laughter playing at the corners of his eyes and causing him to smile.

"Wait! You have to put this on, quick!" he said as he held out the delicate diamond ring, pinched so tightly between his thumb and forefinger, his knuckle had turned white. "If I drop this, we have twelve hundred miles of land to cover to find it!"

Casey took her hand in his and slid the thin gold band on her finger, sealing it in place with a kiss to her fingertip. Miranda looked down at the ring and was moved by the way it seemed to belong on her hand.

"I didn't know what to expect when I got here, Casey. I'm so happy to say that the reality of being here is so much better than I could have ever imagined. Your home, your family, but mostly you, have made it amazing. I love you, Casey."

As they kissed, Miranda knew this was an entirely different feeling than even just a few moments before. This was no longer the hesitating feeling of hoping that this would all work out somehow; the man she was sitting on the ground with under a gorgeous, blue Texas sky was going to be her husband.

That thought made her feel bold, but more importantly, made her feel wanted. As she reached up to caress Casey's chest and opened the top button on his soft henley shirt, he froze for a fraction of a second, opening his eyes and meeting her gaze. The look he saw on her face melted any doubts he had and he basked in the expression of complete and total joy she wore. That look was something he wanted to see every day for the rest of his life, to know that this perfect person was utterly happy and content.

Miranda's hands shook ever so slightly as she continued opening the three buttons on Casey's shirt, watching his face expectantly for any sign that she should stop. She bit her lip when she reached the last button, knowing that now it was Casey's turn to decide. Was she still just some stranger his dad had dropped off on the ranch, who he was marrying because he was supposed to? Or was she someone important to him, but more importantly, someone he wanted?

He answered her unspoken questions by pulling his shirt off over his head, rumpling his light brown hair in an unbelievably sexy way. Miranda traced her hands down the lines of his chest, sighing when she felt the definition to his abs that a lifetime of hard work had put there. She glanced at his half-naked body and drew in her breath at the glorious sight.

Casey kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth hungrily as he reached for the hem of her t-shirt. He slid one hand under the soft fabric and was excited at the warm, soft feel of her skin. He had never known this kind of intimate connection was possible between two people and he wanted to taste her for some reason, a reason even he didn't understand. He pulled back the fabric of her shirt and wove a line of kisses from the top button of her jeans up her smooth stomach, inching the shirt up as he went. He was ready for her to stop him, to realize he was still very much a stranger, but she never did.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his feathery touch light against the soft pink material of her bra. He looked up at her as he spoke, watching her face for any hesitation.

"Yes," she breathed, eager to feel his mouth against her sensitive skin again. He reached one hand behind her back and unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts and allowing him to relish in placing his hands beneath the weight of them. He paused for a brief moment as he laid her back on the quilt, the soft grass beneath them providing the most comfortable bed.

"I want you, Miranda, more than anyone else in the world," he said, his voice husky with longing. She ran her fingers through the tangle of hair hanging over his eyes and spoke at last, her voice barely managing a whisper.

"I want you, too."

***

As they made the turn to the midway point of the property—there was no way to see the whole ranch in just one day—Casey pointed out a point in the distant hills. "That over there is your property. There's a little cabin on it and a small barn, and a creek runs through it. That'll be our next field trip!" he promised.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Miranda insisted. "Today was simply incredible. The ranch is gorgeous, but I'd have spent it in the pig pen if I could have had you to myself."

"It was spectacular, if I do say so myself. I'm so glad you came with me." Casey flashed a broad smile at her before heading up a straight beaten-down path toward the main property. There had been so much to see, even while staring at endless acres of nothing, and Miranda had taken it all in like it was the most exciting adventure ever. That thought reminded him that he needed to explain the plan for the cattle drive, especially when they were leaving in only a couple of days. "You know, my dad was talking to us last night..."

"Another business meeting?" Miranda interrupted with a knowing smile. Casey nodded.

"...and we were talking about the drive. What would you say if we put you in charge of the city people?" Miranda's face froze.

"What are 'city people,' and who on earth would think I could be in charge of them? I need someone to be in charge of me, remember? The only riding I've done is around the ranch with Gracie!"

"That's the term for the outsiders who come along on the drive," he explained. "Many years back, when I was just a kid, Dad was approached by a travel agent about letting people pay to experience ranch life. For a time, we operated almost a small dude ranch, where city people would stay and learn things like horseback riding, roping, and stuff like that. The only problem was, those people wanted to experience the Old West, complete with gunfights, a sheriff's posse, eating beans by the camp fire, crap like that. They'd show up wearing the most ridiculous, impractical costumes, trying to call us all 'Slim' and 'Black Bart'. The final straw was when one guy arrived with a giant handgun he wore slung around his hips in a gun belt...the stupid guy didn't have the safety on and he shot himself in the ankle. That was enough of playing cowboy for Dad."

"So, now, we still let people join the drive but there is a very clear understanding that they are here to work and learn. It's only a little bit aggravating having to watch out for people, but we do a better job of learning about them and explaining the rules. It'll be fine," Casey assured her. "You'll have two really great old guys to make sure all of you stay safe and get there in one piece. Your job would be more...diplomatic. Make sure they have a good time, don't go wandering off, don't do anything really, really stupid, stuff like that."

Miranda smiled and gave Casey's hand a squeeze. "If you think I can do it, then I'm in. I'm happy to help out. Gracie can help me too, right?" She hadn't actually brought it up, but Miranda had hoped Gracie would be welcome on the drive. If Gracie couldn't go, Miranda didn't see how she could go, either. They'd only been there a few weeks, and she didn't feel comfortable leaving her little sister behind. At the same time, she hated to start things off with Casey by having to choose Gracie over him.

"Sure, that'd be a great job for her. It turns out, I'll be driving one of the trucks every other day, so the days I'm in the saddle, she can ride near me and do more with the animals. The days I'm not there to watch out for her, I'd feel better if she stayed with you."

Miranda and Casey passed the rest of the trip back to the ranch making small talk, looking for wildlife, even talking about their future plans a little. It was the most serene Miranda had felt in a long time, but it was short-lived. When they finally ended the day back at the house, Bernard was waiting for them, and standing next to him was the local sheriff.

#  Chapter Fifteen

"I thought everything was cleared up with Thomas' murder," Miranda said quietly before they got out of the truck. "Jack confessed and everything, didn't he?"

"That's right. Maybe this is about something else?" Casey suggested, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out. He came around to Miranda's side and helped her get down as Bernard and the sheriff approached.

"Casey, Miranda, this is Sheriff Matthews. He's come out here to ask a few questions. Why don't you go clean up, Casey, and Miranda and I can talk to the sheriff in my office?" the older man said with forced kindness, a tone of concern in his gravelly voice.

"Ask Miranda some questions? What's this all about?" Casey demanded, stepping in front of Miranda slightly.

"I'll explain everything later, son, but for now, she needs to answer a few questions about why she was so eager to come to Texas." Casey couldn't quite see his father's expression, backlit as he was by the bright lights shining from the house, but he could hear it in his father's voice. Something had him upset, almost angry.

"No," he answered. "Miranda's my fiancée, and anything that affects her affects me, too. We'll both go inside." He held out a hand to her while still staring down his father and the sheriff. It was only after he took her hand and felt her tremors that he looked at her and saw the fear all over her face. His eyebrows went up, a questioning look on his face, but Miranda simply stared straight ahead as they began to walk up the porch steps, the sheriff following close behind.

Inside, they went to Bernard's office and the old man closed the door behind them, something he almost never did. There was never any ranch business so secret or a ranch hand so mistrusted that the door needed to be shut. Miranda couldn't have known that but for Casey, it was an all-too-real sign that something was seriously wrong.

"Miranda, like Bernard said, I'm Sheriff Matthews. We received a call from a detective with the New Jersey state investigator's office, asking about your whereabouts. Can you explain why that might be? What they might be looking for?"

Miranda sat completely still, desperate to be believed. "I don't know anything about it, I don't even know why they would know my name."

"How is it that you showed up in Hale, dragging a minor child with you?" he asked, very business-like but very grandfatherly at the same time. Miranda instantly liked him, and wanted to be able to answer him completely.

"Well, I don't know what Mr. Carson—Bernard—told you, but I answered his ad on an online dating site and when things back home weren't going very well, I took a chance and accepted his invitation to come out here."

"I see. And Bernard tells me that you haven't made any phone calls, written any letters, or even asked to so much as send an email since the day you arrived here. As far as he knows, you haven't used a computer to even check your Facebook account. Doesn't that seem weird that you and your sister would come all this way and basically disappear?" The officer looked at her quizzically, trying to be level-headed but leading her with his questions.

"That's because I don't have anyone to update. My parents are both gone, my ex-boyfriend is the last person on earth I want to talk to, and I never really had time for close friends. I don't even have a Facebook account."

"Hmm. But can you see why it might look like you're hiding out on this ranch? Don't you think it's awfully suspicious that you just pack up and leave, without even telling your landlord or your sister's school?"

Miranda sighed quietly, trying to look as innocent as she knew she was, but the sheriff was right. It did look odd. "Meeting the Carsons happened at a very...lucky...time for me. I didn't leave things on a good note with my boyfriend. I wasn't sure what was going to happen and when I had this opportunity, I took it. I had already been emailing back and forth and knew at the very least, the Carson ranch might be a good place to stay for a while and get my head together, even if things didn't work out with Casey. But I hoped for the best, and I found it," she said with a smile, reaching for Casey's hand. He took his fingers in hers, but he didn't return her happy expression. Instead, he watched the sheriff and his father with a grim look on his face, alternating between the two of them to try to understand what this was about.

"I guess that makes sense, but can you understand our point of view?" the sheriff continued, stressing the word "our" to mean that Bernard may be as concerned as he was. "You show up here, then the state you just fled wants to know where you are and why. They had to get your present location—the town, at least—off your credit card receipt for the bus tickets, so that means they've already been granted a warrant by a judge to look into your financial records. It just looks mighty odd, don't you think?"

"I completely understand why you'd think that. But I've got nothing to hide. I'll talk to their detectives myself, if that's what they want. That's all I can say," Miranda explained.

Sheriff Matthews looked at Bernard, who nodded his head briefly. The older man had stood this whole time, his arms crossed in front of him, weighing the situation. The sheriff smiled at Miranda and thanked her, then told her she would probably be hearing from the police in the next day or two before grabbing his hat and letting himself out. Bernard sighed loudly before smiling weakly.

"I guess you two must be tired, go on and get some sleep. Stop by the kitchen if you need something to eat first," he said, dismissing them as he sat down and went back to shuffling some papers on his desk. Miranda got up to leave, followed by Casey at a distance. She couldn't see the look the father and son exchanged before he left.

At the bottom of the stairs, Miranda turned to Casey and put her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his chest and looking up into his clear blue eyes. "That was strange, huh?" she asked.

Casey didn't respond for a minute, leaving Miranda to look at him in confusion. He took her arms from around his waist and stepped back somewhat, still gripping her wrists as he spoke. "Is there something I need to know about, Miranda? Something you're not telling me? Because if there is, you'd better tell me right now and get it out in the open."

Miranda stared in shock. "Of course not! How can you think that?"

"It's not every day the police make the hour-long drive out here to question my future wife, that's why! And he did say some things that make a little bit of sense. Why did you come all the way out here without even talking on the phone first? Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, when Miranda opened her mouth to protest, "my dad said there was only a satellite phone. But you still got on the bus and rode clear across the country without ever having talked to him? You must have been pretty excited to leave home."

"Casey, I can't believe what I'm hearing," she whispered. "I don't know what to say, I don't even know why the police want to talk to me."

"It just sounds a little too convenient the way the timing lined up, and the way you just skipped town like that. I hope you can understand why they might be suspicious."

"Sure I can. Your dad has a family and a ranch to think about, and a fortune invested in this place that he has to protect. But what I can't understand is why you'd be so quick to jump to conclusions. Remember, your dad is the one who reached out to me, not the other way around. I'm not the one who went trolling the Internet, looking for a mate for my kid, pretending to be someone I'm not. _That_ was your dad. _He_ contacted _me_ , not the other way around. If I was desperate to head out on the run from the cops and dig my greedy claws into a rich land baron's son, I'd have to be pretty stupid to sit around waiting, hoping the perfect situation landed in my lap." Miranda was close to tears at how their perfect day was ending, but even worse, over not being trusted. She turned to head to the bedroom at the top of the stairs, but stopped and turned to Casey one more time. "I hope you remember that when you were accused of killing a man, I believed you the second you said you didn't do it. No proof, no witnesses, nothing...I just believed you, even though I'd only known you for a day or two and most of that time had been spent watching you stare at me in disgust. I thought I could at least expect the same courtesy of the man I agreed to marry today."

Miranda left him standing at the bottom of the stairs and managed to make it to her room and close the door before the tears came. She heard footsteps on the stairs and listened for a knock on the door, but there was none. She cried herself to sleep, still wearing the clothes she'd worn for the best day she'd had in a long time.

The next morning didn't look any brighter. Miranda stayed in bed until Gracie awoke, then put on a good front and tried to answer the younger girl's questions about her day with a cheerful tone. There was no sense in worrying her before anyone knew anything.

When Gracie finally got ready and headed out to eat before going to the barn, Miranda bowed out, saying she was staying in bed with a book she'd brought, too exhausted from being gone all day yesterday. Hopefully, the younger girl didn't see anything wrong with Miranda's story, and seemed to believe it as she closed the door when she left.

Miranda stayed in bed all morning, trying desperately to concentrate on the book she retrieved from her suitcase to not think about last night. Instead, her mind kept returning to the look of mistrust and hurt on Casey's face, the look he'd worn as she walked away.

_This might be the end of it_ , Miranda thought, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. _I've lost someone I never even knew I wanted, and I'm back to square one: alone and heartbroken._ There was no use in pretending to read her favorite book. Who needed happy endings with Mr. Darcy when her own chances for ever finding her own happy ending had just gone up in smoke? Again?

At some point, she fell asleep, exhausted from the emotional turmoil and from going from content to elated to devastated, all in less than twenty-four hours. She couldn't tell how long she slept, but somewhere in that time, a strong floral scent worked its way into her dream.

Miranda dreamt she was standing in a giant pasture like the ones Casey had shown her yesterday, only this pasture was hundreds of acres of rose bushes. She could stand and breathe in the heavenly smell of millions of rose blossoms but she couldn't move, surrounded as she was by the thick growth of thorny stems. She could look, but not touch. In front of her, Casey stood with his arms outstretched, begging her to come to him, but the thorns were in her way. Suddenly, she heard a voice from her past behind her. Mike. He was crashing through the thorny field, oblivious to the small points tearing at his clothes and skin, his arms outstretched to get her and a sickening, furious scowl on his face. It would have been so real, but Miranda could see from his still wounded head, bashed in with the baseball bat back in her apartment, that this had to still be part of her dream.

She woke up suddenly, disoriented from having fallen asleep in the middle of the day and from the strangeness of the dream. Her eyes fell on the large vase overflowing with wildflowers that was standing on the table beside her bed, a large note tied around the vase with ribbon. Miranda flipped open the folded piece of paper and saw that it simply said, "I'm sorry."

_But sorry for what?_ she thought to herself sadly. _Sorry for last night, or for bringing me here in the first place?_ She looked down at the diamond ring on her finger and thought back to Casey's romantic proposal and their intimacy shortly afterward. Was it all for nothing, and did he want to go back on his proposal?

Miranda didn't have to wait long for an answer. She turned to lie on her back for a while and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Casey sitting on the foot of her bed, waiting for her to wake up. She looked at him for what seemed like an eternity, trying to read the expression on his face, but couldn't. Finally, he spoke,

"Miranda, I thought about what you said last night, and I'm so sorry," he said, his voice raw. She could see the dark circles under his eyes, which told her he hadn't slept well either, if he'd gone to bed last night at all. "You told me you were telling the truth, and I didn't listen. You haven't done anything to make me think that you came out here for any reason except the reason you've said all along. But as soon as it even looked like there was a problem, I started to question your motives and practically accused you of being a shameless gold digger. You didn't deserve that." He looked down at his hands where they fidgeted with the hem of his untucked shirt. Miranda noticed for the first time that he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, answering her question about how much sleep he must have had. "When I didn't see you come down for breakfast, I was so scared that you'd left, not that I could blame you if you did. Then, I finally saw Gracie out at the barn and this feeling of complete relief that I felt from knowing you had to still be here was...I just don't even have the words to say how glad I was."

Casey stood up and came closer to the head of the bed, kneeling down beside it like a man who was praying for what he desperately wanted. He took Miranda's hands in his and leaned closer. "I screwed up, and I know I hurt you. But I love you and I'm begging you to forgive me. You don't have to answer me right now..."

Miranda silenced his pleas with a powerful kiss, pulling him to her by the front of his shirt. He returned her kiss ravenously, gathering her in his arms and holding her so tightly, she almost couldn't breathe. She didn't care. It didn't matter if this was the last breath she'd ever take, as long as she did so with his arms around her.

Until that moment, their kisses had been tender and timid, romantic, as the two of them tried to overcome their lingering feelings of uncertainty. This was different. This was pure need for each other as Casey gathered her hair in his hands and broke free of her mouth to leave heated bites over her neck, working his way to her shoulder. Miranda moved back and pulled Casey with her until the two of them were tangled together on her bed, facing each other. He slid a hand down her bare thigh and pulled her knee up to his waist, pressing his hand against the small of her back, holding her against him as if he couldn't stand even air to come between them. She could feel how much he wanted her at that moment and hoped he knew she felt the same way.

Miranda pulled away long enough to pull her nightgown over her head and whisper against Casey's lip with a sexy smirk, "Lock the door."

#  Chapter Sixteen

They got dressed a long time later, having passed the time exploring each other's bodies, making up for lost kisses last night, and talking in between. Casey asked Miranda if she wanted him to go downstairs first for propriety's sake but she pressed a finger to his lips and put her arms around him, kissing him once.

"I don't care who knows that we're finally together," she answered. "But if you want to keep things quiet for a while, I understand."

"Um, I think 'quiet' just went out the window," he laughed scandalously, jerking his head to the open window in her room. "We weren't exactly all that quiet a little while ago." Miranda blushed slightly and made a face, but eventually shrugged.

"I don't know, with all the racket the cows make, it's a wonder anyone can hear anything here. That's what I'm going to tell myself, anyway!" Casey laughed and kissed her forehead before pulling open the bedroom door and stopping suddenly when Joseph was there, one hand lifted to knock.

"Oh! Sorry, guys. Miranda, Dad said there's someone on the phone to talk to you. He's in his office and sent me to get you." Joseph looked from Casey to Miranda several times, piecing their relationship together.

"That must be the detectives," Miranda said, turning to Casey. "Do you want to come listen? I didn't know if that would relieve any doubts."

"No," he answered firmly, smiling at her. "I don't need to be there. I believe you, whatever it is you have to say. If you need me there, I'll be there. But otherwise, I'm going to head back to my work and just trust you." He pulled her closer in his hug before letting her go, swatting her playfully on the rear as she went ahead of him.

They kissed goodbye quickly at the bottom of the stairs, Casey returning to the pasture and Miranda stepping into Bernard's office after rapping on the door frame. He smiled broadly and pointed to the phone, getting up from his leather chair so she could have a seat. She picked up the phone but pressed a hand over the mouthpiece.

"Bernard...sorry, I mean, Dad...I offered to let Casey listen and he said he didn't need to. But I would feel better if you stayed. I want everyone to know I have nothing to hide, and that I don't have any secrets to keep." He started to argue but she put a hand up to stop him. "I know you can say you trust me, but you would be a little crazy not to have some kind of doubt. I would feel better if there was someone who had heard me answer their questions."

Bernard smiled and sat down across from her, pressing the speaker phone button and introducing her to the detective. He sat silently as Miranda answered every question, surprised like she was that it had nothing to do with her ex like she'd assumed but instead, was about her old job. As it turned out, one of the partners had engaged in some shady business dealings, and Miranda's disappearance only added to the appearance of guilt and collaboration. Once she convinced the detective what her limited job responsibilities had been and that the trip had been purely a coincidence, he hung up with a promise to keep her posted if there was any news, thanking her for her willingness to tell him what little she knew.

She hung up the phone and turned to Bernard, who looked at her fondly. "I am very sorry we put you through this, Miranda. I know you were very upset last night, and no one can blame you."

She nodded thoughtfully, and said, "I appreciate that, but I can also see how it looks from the other side of the desk. You have your ranch to protect, and then something comes up that raises questions. It doesn't feel good to not be believed, but I can at least understand that you were just concerned, for your son and for your family."

Bernard came around the desk and took Miranda's hands, standing her up before hugging her. "Thank you for understanding, and for forgiving. You are a very special person, and I'm so happy you're going to be a part of my family! Speaking of which, I noticed you have on a new accessory today, and I must say, it suits you!"

Miranda laughed, hugging Bernard again and telling him goodbye, eager to grab something to eat and visit with Gracie now that she was in a better mood, her spirits lifted and her heart light again. There was an upcoming cattle drive to get ready for, and hopefully after that, a wedding to plan.

"We're going _camping_?" Gracie shrieked sometime later when Miranda shared the plans as they rode in the corner pasture, getting the calves used to being around saddled horses. "Why? What did I ever do to you? I've never hurt a soul, I'm a good kid who eats her vegetables and doesn't back talk. And you're making me go camping?!"

"What's wrong? I thought you'd love the chance to go on the drive, to be outside with the cows and your horse all day, doing cowgirl stuff. What's not to like?"

"Oh, I don't know, how about bugs, snakes, sleeping on the ground, eating cold food next to a puny campfire, not getting to shower, peeing behind a bush...the list goes on!" Gracie whined before putting on a full-on pout.

"I think you're going to be pleasantly surprised," Miranda explained. "I thought it was going to be like the old western movies, too. But there's actually a fully-modernized kitchen truck that meets us at all the stopping points for meals, there's a bathroom and shower truck, and stuff like that. You and I have been assigned the job of helping the new people who come out here just to take part in the drive. You know, people who actually pay good money to get to go 'camping'!"

"Oh, goody, I get to spend the whole trip next to you, listening to these people complain about how their chuck wagon food isn't a four course meal!" She slumped her shoulders and frowned while still making wide circles around the calves.

"Well, smarty pants, I didn't tell you the best part. Every other day, Casey will be riding and he said you could switch off and come up front to help him with the herd! So there! You'll only be stuck with me and the newbies on the other days," Miranda said, teasing her sister.

Gracie brightened a little bit at the news, as much as any disgruntled teenager who isn't getting her way can. They rode some more before Gracie changed the subject. "So, I can't help but notice you have some new jewelry...have you guys set a date?"

"Well, considering I got the new jewelry yesterday and we almost broke up last night, uh...no." Gracie stared at her sister and begged for the details, but Miranda didn't want to talk about her initial fears that Casey simply didn't trust her, and she certainly wasn't going to talk about how they made up this morning. They spent another hour circling closer and closer to the tiny herd of calves until they could get fairly close without the little guys getting too skittish. They stayed out long enough to let all the ranch hands make their way through the lunch waves then headed up to the house, stopping at the barn to put up their horses.

As Miranda and Gracie approached the front steps of the house, two women who had huddled together on the step stood up suddenly, looking around before the younger looking one spoke. "Is your name Miranda?" she asked quietly, almost like she was afraid someone would hear.

"Yes, I'm Miranda. And you are?"

"Don't worry about that. We had to come out here and talk to you for just a minute, then I promise we'll leave." The girl who was speaking wrung her hands, and Miranda noticed the other woman kept her arm linked through hers, her eyes darting around as though she was afraid of being spotted.

"You don't have to leave. Come over here and sit down." She led the girls to the rocking chairs after telling Gracie to go inside and wash up. "Tell me what's wrong."

Dee and Emma looked at each other nervously before Emma spoke up. "I don't know if you know this, but we work for Mack. He owns the bar in Hale." She looked away for a second, and Miranda had a sudden flash of where she'd seen these two girls. Luckily, they were clothed this time. Emma continued, saying, "We overheard a drunk guy in Mack's one night talking tough, saying real ugly things about his girlfriend. Some of the guys were giving him a hard time about letting his woman run all over him, and he started yelling that no woman ever treats him that way, that he's beaten her before and that he'll do it again. Then he starts talking about how he knows she's 'around here somewhere,' how he's got her credit card and he knows she's here. Right about then, he just up and starts accusing Mack of stealing his girlfriend, and he rushes at him like he's gonna punch Mack. 'Course, the man's completely plastered so he didn't make it far, but that didn't stop Mack and a couple of the other guys from hauling him out behind the bar and beating him to a pulp."

Miranda swallowed nervously, instinctively knowing what was wrong. Just then, Casey ran up on the porch and stopped short, looking over the two girls with a little bit of disgust.

"What are you two doing here?" Casey demanded, staring them down. The girls looked to Miranda and didn't say anything. Miranda turned back to the girls, ignoring Casey's question.

"And why did you think of me?" she asked, worried about their answer. They nodded for a second, then Dee explained.

"Well, he talks like an out of town person, and we heard rumors that there was a girl on the Carson place who was new. We just put two and two together and figured you'd run away, like we did, you know?"

"If you're the same girl he was talking about," Emma interrupted, "that man's gonna kill you. He said so. He said no one gets away with running out on him."

"And just like that, the two of you drove all the way out here?" Casey asked, narrowing his eyes a little bit.

"No, sir," the younger girl said. "We walked. It took us all night because we had to wait 'til Mack passed out."

"You walked? All the way from Hale?" Miranda asked, suddenly worried for the two girls. "Casey, go tell Emily they need something to eat. Quick!" Casey looked from Miranda to the girls and shook his head, but went inside anyway to do as he was asked. "How did you possibly make it all this way?"

"We just had to let you know, and there wasn't any other way to tell you."

"Well, you won't have to walk back to Hale. I'll make sure someone gives you a ride."

"We can't go back there," Emma said quietly. "If Mack found out we left, he'd..." She stopped midsentence when Dee grabbed her arm roughly. Miranda just looked at them, gratitude for what they'd done and what they'd risked mixing with the need to help them.

"What can we do? How can we help you two?" she asked, nearly begging them to let her do something.

"If you can find out when the bus is arriving and put us on it, that would be more than enough. It would get us out of here for good," Emma said. "I know it's a lot to ask, but there's just no way we can go back there."

"Absolutely. Consider it done. I'll look it up and get the tickets, and make sure you are delivered directly to the bus by as many cowboys as it takes to make sure you get out of there safely!" Miranda promised them, putting aside her own worries that Mike had found her and thinking more of the two girls—barely older than Gracie, judging by their looks—who had risked their own lives to protect hers. "Come on inside and we'll find out when that bus is arriving. We'll see what's taking Casey so long with some food, too!"

They stood up and walked into the foyer just as Casey appeared with two plates, obviously intending for them to eat on the porch. Miranda looked from the plates to Casey's face and waited, crossing her arms over her chest and daring him to say something rude.

"I was just coming out to see where our guests would like to sit," Casey said with a forced smile, melting Miranda's heart.

"We need to use the computer, so can they eat in your dad's office?" she asked, smirking when he swallowed loudly before answering.

"I'm sure they can," he replied in a pinched voice, turning and leading the way. The office, full of a handful of men with various jobs on the ranch, grew instantly silent when the small pack appeared in the doorway. Casey spoke, keeping his forced smile in place as a warning to everyone else to just go with it. "Hi, Dad, we were just wondering if we could look up something on your computer. It'll only take a minute, then we'll be out of your hair."

Bernard looked thoroughly confused, but silently got up from his seat as the men quickly fled the now very crowded office, some of them looking down as they passed to avoid anyone noticing that they already knew Dee and Emma very well. He took a seat and leaned back on one of the sofas as Miranda went to work at the computer, Dee and Emma sitting perched on the office chairs as though they were afraid of getting them dirty. After asking them for the information on their destinations, she typed and clicked the mouse for a long time, the frown on her face increasing as she worked, the frightened expressions on the girls' faces growing more pronounced.

"I'm afraid we have some bad news," Miranda finally announced. "The only tickets that will get you where you want to go are going to end up costing more than if you took a plane, what with all the bus changes you'll have to make." The girls' faces fell, and Emma began to breathe very rapidly. "But...but...let me do some more digging and I'll see what we can come up with, okay? Don't worry. For now, I know you guys walked all the way and the only reason you did it was to protect me. I feel like I owe you for that, so how about we trade? You can clean up, have something more to eat, we'll get you some fresh clothes, and you can stay over tonight as my guests." The girls looked surprised and thrilled, while Casey and Bernard looked surprised and alarmed.

"Come on, Gracie will take you upstairs and help you find everything you need." Miranda came out from behind the desk and hugged the girls tightly, not caring about the slight smell coming off their clothes or the open sores on their skin that signaled recent heavy, repeated drug use. These were two human beings in need, and they had done the impossible to warn her. She took them upstairs, telling Gracie to take care of them. Bernard and Casey were waiting for her when she came out of the bedroom, looking none too pleased.

"I know," Miranda began, putting her hands up in defeat. "I know what you're thinking, but we have to do something."

"Miranda, I love your compassion but those two are nothing but trouble. They're drug addicts and prostitutes and even worse, if word got out that they're here, Mack is going to raise all kinds of commotion trying to get them to come back. Plus the fact that probably half the guys on this ranch have had some 'business' with them...we don't want to open our own brothel on the ranch," Casey explained, trying not to raise Miranda's ire over his judgment of the girls, but still trying to get her to see that having them on the property for even a minute was dangerous.

"I understand. But Casey...they _walked_ from Hale." Bernard's eyebrows went up in surprise as she continued. "They did that because...well, I'm sorry to create even more drama around here...they think my ex-boyfriend came all this way to find me and made some really threatening comments. _Really_ threatening."

She could see on their faces that the gravity of the situation wasn't sinking in. This went beyond some pining ex-boyfriend who showed up on her doorstep from a hundred miles away to beg her to come back. She had hoped to keep most of the details to herself but instead, she found herself having to explain about the abuse, both physical and emotional, about the times it had been so bad that she'd even had to go to the hospital.

"I just can't picture it," Casey said, shaking his head. "You're so strong, so out there. I can't imagine you letting some man treat you that way, and then coming back for more."

"That's because you know the person who won't let it happen ever again. But when someone treats you so badly for so long, you start to think the things he says are true and that the things he does are justified. 'If I had only been prettier, if only I hadn't forgotten to pick up laundry or pay his cell phone bill, then none of this would have happened'. After it happens for so long and you spend so much energy trying not to do things that will set him off, you start to believe you deserve it."

"But the night I found him on top of Gracie, it clicked. I knew this wasn't about me doing things that made him angry. This was just about him being a monster. Gracie was just lying there asleep, not bothering anyone. I knew then that this was just about how he treats women, how he does what he wants, takes what he wants, and hurts who he wants."

"But what are we to do about him now?" Bernard asked. "I can ask the county judge to help us file charges of domestic violence back in New Jersey so at least he will have charges against him on record, and then issue a restraining order to keep him off my property. But if he's really come all this way because he thinks he owns you, a piece of paper won't be enough to stop him."

"No," Casey interrupted, "but a piece of paper will go a long way toward justifying why one of us had to shoot him if he does come out here." Miranda was shocked by what he said and by the look in his eye, but knew that his overreaction was only born out of fear for her, and for Gracie. "From now on, at least until we get this all sorted out, you and Gracie stay close to the house and make sure you're never alone. If that means baking cookies all day in the kitchen, then so be it. Dad'll get that order and I'll see what I can find out in town." He kissed Miranda urgently on the lips, oblivious to the pleased expression on his father's face.

"But what about our new guests?" Bernard asked. "That has to be settled, too."

"Well, I can't speak for you or your family because I'm a newcomer here myself. But I feel like those two girls just earned those beds upstairs. I say we let them earn their keep around here until they've built up enough credit from us to get plane tickets to wherever they need to go."

"Earn their keep?" Bernard asked suspiciously, raising one eyebrow.

" _Not_ like that! You know, doing actual chores, things that need to be done."

"Miranda, that's a really noble idea and I would never turn away someone in need but this isn't as simple as letting a stray dog come in out of the rain. If those girls are on drugs, it's going to get ugly when it leaves their systems."

"And what better place for that to happen than out in the middle of nowhere on over a thousand miles of property? Better yet, let's put them up at the house you bought me. It's small, it's isolated, Mack will never find them, and they can scream, cry, throw up, whatever,...all away from the prying eyes of the ranch." Miranda seemed pleased with the solution, but Casey still looked skeptical until Bernard interceded.

"You know, the teacher who stays out here and tutors all the kids used to work in a rehab facility. That's why she came out here, she'd spent too many years trying to get through to kids who were determined to ruin their lives. What if she stayed out there with the girls for a few weeks? When the girls are ready, we'll send them on their way with a fresh start. We'll get the doctor out here to look at them as soon as he can come and as soon as they're ready and have spent a week or two getting fresh air and plenty of food, we'll set them up at Miranda's farm."

Miranda smiled at the old man and hugged him, knowing now he had a soft spot for people in need, especially young people. After all, it's the reason he never questioned Gracie's presence with Miranda. It was decided, so Miranda went upstairs to talk to Dee and Emma and tell Gracie the good news; she was going camping tonight.

#  Chapter Seventeen

"I can't believe you gave away our beds to some total strangers," Gracie complained, shaking out the blanket and pillow and arranging it next to the roaring fire. After telling Dee and Emma that they would sleep in their room, Miranda arranged for Gracie and her to sleep outside, as practice for the cattle drive. "And I thought you said it was all modern on the drive."

"It is, but we'll still be sleeping under the stars some nights." Miranda positioned her own blanket near enough to Gracie's that she could reach out and put a hand on her in the night, to feel that she was safely there. "Consider this good training for the ride."

Gracie humphed dejectedly, knowing this was a done deal. She crawled in her blanket and made a big show of trying to get comfortable over and over. Finally, she settled into a position, and Miranda stifled a laugh.

"Are those girls really in trouble?" Gracie asked quietly after they'd both become still.

"Yes, I think so," Miranda answered, waiting to see where this conversation was going and letting Gracie steer the talk.

"You mean with drugs?" she asked.

"Well, yes. And with some other behaviors." Miranda was ready to explain what those behaviors were to her inquisitive sister, but only if she asked. "How did you know they were on drugs?"

"You can tell by their skin. There's a lot of kids who looked like that at my high school back home. Everyone just knew to stay away from them."

"Yeah, but if everyone stays away from them, who's going to help them?"

"Don't people kind of have to want help before you can give it to them? Like you with Mike?"

Miranda stayed perfectly still, knowing that her answer would mean the difference in the entire conversation. "You're absolutely right. People can't see their own problems when they're living them, they have to have something that makes them step back and see the situation like an outsider would."

"And what Mike tried to do to me was that situation?" she asked, speaking of that night for the first time.

"Absolutely. It made me see him for what he truly is, a monster who doesn't deserve to be around people."

"Oh," Gracie answered, waiting for a long time before speaking again. "Then I'm glad he did it. If that's what it took to make you finally dump him, I guess there's some good that came from it after all."

Miranda sobbed silently at the wisdom from a teenager, but also that she had let it get to that point. "I'm so sorry, Gracie. Both for what happened that day, and for all the times you had to see the way he treated me. I never realized you were learning how to be a girlfriend or a wife by watching me let him get by with that. For your sake, if not for mine, I should have put a stop to it a long time ago."

"Well, if you had, you would never have met Casey," Gracie whispered in the dark.

"I suppose that's true. And I'm really glad I did. You know, I never did thank you for butting into my business and trying to play Internet match maker!" Gracie giggled at Miranda's tone of voice. "I didn't even know there were dating sites for cowboys, let alone think of setting up my profile on one!"

"Oh, there's all kinds of specific dating sites for different kinds of people. I happen to think it's really romantic," Gracie said. "People all over the world who like the same things can meet someone with the touch of a button. It's far better than imagining people wandering around for their whole lives trying to find someone, when that person could be right next door and they wouldn't even know it."

"You are one really cool kid, Gracie. How did you get to be so smart?" Miranda asked drowsily.

"The Internet," she said with a soft laugh, trailing off at the end of her last word as she grew sleepy.

Sometime during the night, when their fire had turned to a bright orange glow, Miranda felt something on her shoulder. She sat up, worried she wasn't alone in her sleeping bag and jumped when that something turned out to be a hand.

"Shhhh!" Casey insisted in a whisper. "It's just me!"

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Well, I've been sleeping way over there where I could keep an eye on you two. You woke me up because you were having a nightmare. What was it?"

"Oh, I don't even remember," Miranda replied in a sleepy voice. "It couldn't have been too bad if I can't remember it."

"I'm not sure I agree. You were yelling 'stop' over and over." Casey threw one arm across Miranda's front and pulled her to his chest, warming her back as he did.

"That could have been anything," she reassured him. "Maybe I was about to get sick on the merry-go-round like I did when I was four." She laughed quietly as she snuggled into Casey's chest, warm and content. "But why were you asleep out here in the first place?"

"Because you were," he answered dreamily, kissing her ear and squeezing her with his strong arms. Miranda turned her face toward him for a real kiss, then settled back to sleep.

When the sunlight and the sound of ranch work woke her the next morning, Miranda was alone, a good thing considering Gracie snored softly nearby. She reached out a hand and shook Gracie on the shoulder, waking the girl so they could go inside. She then stood up and stretched, rubbing her neck to ease the soreness that had planted itself there during the night on the hard ground.

As the two sleep-weary campers entered the warm kitchen, Seamus and Jacob greeted them from the breakfast table, asking if they were ready to spend the next two weeks doing just that. Miranda and Gracie answered simultaneously but their answers were opposites, making both of the younger twins laugh. Gracie went over and sat down by Jacob as Miranda grabbed their plates.

"Are you guys really coming on the drive with us?" Jacob asked, eyeing Gracie's sleep deprived face warily.

"Yup! And we're going to have tons of fun, I know it," Miranda answered for both of them.

"Good! You're really going to like it, you'll see," Seamus answered. "Of course, just so you know, on the actual drive you'd get up about an hour earlier and get straight to work. Fair warning!" The three laughed when Gracie groaned and let her head fall to the table.

"Dad's looking for you when you're done with breakfast, something about the plans for the vacation people," Jacob said to Miranda, smiling especially for Gracie as the two boys got up to get to work. Miranda had seen the look that passed between the two of them and had to wonder if he might be part of the reason Gracie had quit complaining so much about the upcoming drive. The chance to spend two weeks away from the ranch with her own cowboy might have something to do with her attitude, causing Miranda to smile to herself.

She met with Bernard and came away with more questions than she had thought to ask, but at least had a good plan in mind of the kinds of activities the newcomers could engage in, as well as the ones they had to be careful to avoid. Miranda was given a series of signals to learn, little noises and code words the cowboys used to mean different things, both to each other and to the cows.

Then, there was the plan for Dee and Emma to arrange. Bernard had called in the teacher, Cyndy, and they spoke at length about what could be done from the isolation of the little cabin. Cyndy took a little convincing as dealing with this kind of hurting in young people was something she had put behind her, but she had remembered seeing the two girls in town and wondering about how they had come to be in that situation. She agreed to suspend her own ranch classroom for as long as it took to do what she could for the poor girls.

Finally, that just left packing for the drive as the group would leave in three days. All of the activity on the ranch had shifted into preparations for that event, and it would be no different for Miranda. She had already decided to take Casey's advice and stick close to the kitchen with Gracie, because there was so much food prep that had to be done for the trip. Not just baked goods, like he'd only half-jokingly suggested, but the staff did as much pre-meal preparation as could be done, with various ingredients being stored in vacuum sealed food bags then frozen; things like salt, sugar, and coffee being rationed into premeasured containers for each leg of the trip. Luckily, on a modern-era drive, someone could always be sent to the nearest store if they ran out of something, but the main problem was making sure the truck—which had to stick to major highways and paved roads—was able to meet up with the group who was herding mostly through the edges of towns to avoid holding up traffic.

The hard thing about the kitchen was the meals still had to get done, four meals a day with three rotations each. That left Miranda and Gracie to work in a tiny corner of the giant cook area, staying out of the way of the staff preparing meals even as they sliced potatoes or shredded giant blocks of cheddar cheese for the drive. They measured out portions of complete ingredients like the dry stuffs for cornbread to be individually bagged, labeling each bag with the ingredient and the amount.

Bernard came in while Miranda was elbow deep in portioning out small containers of vegetable shortening, her hands and forearms slick with the goopy white mess. "I have everything sorted out with the charges and the restraining order," he began quietly, looking pointedly at Gracie because he wasn't sure what Miranda had shared with her. "You'll need to speak to the prosecutor in New Jersey as soon as you can get free in here, but they have hospital records to prove the incidents so there isn't much to do other than give your statement. Fortunately, domestic violence laws have adapted so much to protect the victims, you don't have to return to the state to file the complaint. Come to my office as soon as you get the chance."

Miranda cleaned up and joined him by his desk, taking the receiver as he dialed the number from his notepad. All Miranda had to do was give an official statement with as many dates as she could remember, and otherwise, just confirm what the prosecutors had already uncovered. She returned the handset to Bernard, who thanked them and hung up.

"I've done some asking around in Hale and other people have seen this guy around. Unfortunately, no one has seen him for the last two days, so he might be already on his way here. I let Sheriff Matthews know, and he confirmed that we can take whatever steps are necessary to protect you if Mike tries to come inside. I know that thought might not be very comforting, but it's really all we can do," Bernard explained.

"You've done more than enough already," Miranda replied. "Maybe instead of coming here, he's realized how stupid and pointless this is and he's gone back home."

"We can hope for that, but one thing I've learned about jerks like him over the years is once they set their mind to what they think they're entitled to, they don't often back down until they're forced to. I just hope he's able to see reason before he sees the business end of any of my cowboys' fists."

Miranda shuddered at the thought, fully aware of what kind of pain Mike's fists were able to inflict. She nodded and thanked Bernard, then headed back to the kitchen to finish sorting supplies. Casey was waiting in the hallway with a pained expression.

"Do you have a few minutes to get away?" he asked darkly.

"Sure!" Miranda said, brightening at the thought of stealing some time with Casey, only to feel her smile fade as she watched his face. He took her by the hand and pulled her quickly toward the front door. Outside, he led her to a waiting gator truck and jumped in, revving the engine as she buckled up for what must be a bouncy ride. Casey tore out of the yard and flew across the pastures toward one of the outbuildings. Talk would have been impossible over the noise of the engine and the wind rushing past the completely open vehicle, but something about Casey's expression told her he wouldn't have been in the mood for talking anyway.

About twenty minutes later, Casey pulled up beside a cedar shack used for storing tools. A group of ranch hands milled about outside, guilty looks on their faces, some with their hands shoved in their pockets. As Casey took Miranda's hand and helped her out of the vehicle, they parted and made a wide path for the couple to reach the door. Casey stopped with one hand on the leather strap that held it shut.

"I brought you out here to see if this was your guy," he said, "and I'm sorry about the way he looks. If this is him, one of the guys found him holed up out on the ranch, armed with a gun, some duct tape, and a bag of zip ties. He took off but some things about ranch life never change from the olden days, because these guys formed a posse and went after him. When they tracked him down, they tried to talk to him, but things got...ugly." Casey swung open the door and Miranda gasped when she saw Mike, or what was left of him, bruised and bleeding. The only part that was more shocking was that he was hog-tied in a letter C, his arms tied behind him and meeting the tethers on his ankles near the middle of his back.

Mike opened his eyes when the light came through the open door, and it was about two seconds before he spewed out a string of profanities that would have embarrassed the devil himself. By the time Casey had heard enough and shut the door again, all that could be heard of his muffled voice were the words, "You're mine, bitch! You belong to me! You're mine!" repeated over and over.

"I guess that answers that question," one of the hands said with a snicker. "Good to know we had the right guy. We haven't gotten to round up the boys in a while, and I was afraid we were getting rusty."

Casey shot him an amused look that was at least supposed to be a reprimand, but even Casey couldn't stay angry, not with the feeling of relief from catching Miranda's ex-boyfriend coming over him. Miranda just stood there, bemused by the whole event.

"He really came out here, didn't he?" she whispered, fighting back tears. "I kept hoping it was all a misunderstanding, that it was just some other guys Dee and Emma had heard. I guess it was actually real."

Casey pulled her to him in a tight embrace as most of the ranch hands wandered back to their horses, one more task of farm life completed. Catch a bad guy, hog tie him in the tool shed, then get back to work. That was what it was like on the ranch.

The couple left three of the cowboys to deal with turning Mike over to the sheriff, after making them promise they would not drag him behind their horses all the way. "But part of the way, right, boss?" one of them asked, only half kidding. Miranda and Casey returned to the main house in the small truck, but Miranda looked with delighted surprise when Casey turned left on the dirt path instead of returning straight home. They rode out through the pastures at a much slower pace, their hands intertwined between them. Miranda scooted closer to Casey in the small vehicle and kissed him on the cheek.

"You're my own hero," she said in his ear before kissing his neck just below his ear. He shuddered at her touch, prompting Miranda to become even bolder, nibbling at his neck and sucking lightly at his earlobe. Finally, Casey couldn't take it any longer and deciding that they were far enough away from the house to not be seen, he cut the engine on the small truck and pulled Miranda into his lap, leaning her back in his arms far enough to begin his own assault on the smooth skin of her throat. He kissed his way up to her mouth and slid his tongue deftly inside, kissing her passionately for a long time.

Casey slid one hand under the edge of her shirt until he cupped one breast, massaging it through the fabric of her bra as he sucked longingly on Miranda's exposed collarbone. She ran her hands through his hair and pulled herself closer to him, tantalizingly tempting him by saying, "I don't know about you, but I don't have to be back any time soon..."

#  Chapter Eighteen

The morning of the drive broke cold but clear, a sign that the sun would warm things up quickly. The guests who would be joining the drive this time had arrived late the previous afternoon, and Miranda had enjoyed getting to know them around a blazing campfire. She had asked each of them to share their names, where they were from, and what they were hoping to get out of the trip. She was surprised to find that two of the women on the drive were both hoping to build up their confidence after leaving bad situations, one having recently divorced and the other being dumped by a serial cheater. Miranda assured them this was the right place to discover what limits people were capable of, and then to push them a little farther.

After packing up their sleeping bags and washing up, the city crew—as they'd come to be called—headed in to breakfast. If Emily and her staff were able to feed an army every day of the year, it was nothing compared to the meal spread before them this morning. This send off breakfast was a celebration of sorts, filled with the last really plentiful meal any of them would eat for the next couple of weeks.

Gracie appeared at breakfast, eager to get on the road. As much as she had pouted about the drive, Miranda could tell she was now looking forward to it, probably because of Casey's renewed promise that she would not spend it stuck in a support vehicle the whole way.

The group set out immediately after breakfast, with different people assigned to different vehicles or to their various horses. Miranda was immediately bombarded by the noise of the cows as they moved along, called to with a whole distinct language of whistles and yelps by the cowboys. She wanted to cover her ears at the noise, but would have had to loosen the reins of her horse to do so. Casey rode alongside her all morning, leaning precariously from his saddle to kiss her goodbye when they reached the boundary of Carson Hill Ranch. Miranda's city crew noticed the kiss, and a collective sigh of appreciation went up around her, causing her to laugh and color slightly.

"I didn't know kisses were included in the package," said one slightly older looking woman to Miranda's left with a sly, knowing grin, "or I would have signed up for that deal myself! You should be very happy, dear, he seems like a nice young man."

"Oh, he's the best," Miranda gushed before she thought anything of it.

"And I see that you're engaged," the woman said, pointing out Miranda's ring. "Have you two been dating long?"

"Well, let's see...next Thursday will be a month!" Miranda said, a teasing tone in her banter that hopefully made the woman think she was kidding. It must have worked, because the older rider threw back her head and laughed before slowing her horse to hang back for her husband.

The day ahead of her was a blur for Miranda as she took in the havoc of the drive. So much of the trip was spent making sure the enormous animals didn't wander away from the group, with a watchful cowboy sprinting off after a wayward cow from time to time. For her part, Miranda helped the city crew members keep watch for these animals and alert the ranch hands with their whistles, guiding them to push a cow back into the herd if it hadn't wandered too far out of line.

At the end of the first day, Miranda was discouraged to learn that they were barely past the northern edge of the Carson property. _We're never going to get there_ , she thought dismally. It was only in trying to keep her spirits up for the vacationing would-be cowboys that she managed to keep a positive outlook.

After dinner, eaten as a group around the campfire while different cowboys took turns watching the grazing herd, Miranda and Casey managed to slip away from the others to be alone, talking over their day between heated kisses.

"I was kind of hoping Dad wasn't too serious about me being in the truck, but it turns out, he meant it. I won't see you all day tomorrow, at least not until after dinner. I don't think I've gone a whole day without at least seeing your ponytail go flying by since you arrived here," he said longingly, giving her long hair a playful tug. "You be careful tomorrow, and remember, Gary and Paul are there if you need anything at all."

"I'll be fine," Miranda promised. "You just rest that leg and drive carefully. I expect to see you well-rested and energetic tomorrow night...I've got important plans for you and you need to keep your endurance up." She grinned at him mischievously and kissed him, knowing he took the hint.

"What a coincidence, I have important plans for you, too." His voice was hoarse with want.

"Oh, really? Why don't you tell me what those plans are," she suggested, licking her lips and beginning to unbutton her shirt. Casey's eyes followed her hands in the twilight, making him lose all reason. He shook his head slightly before answering.

"Nope. It's a secret. I could tell you, but then I'd have to ravish you from now until dawn." He pushed her hair back with one hand and began kissing her neck in a way that made her want to beg.

"You can keep your old secret, let's just get to the ravishing part," Miranda demanded in a breathy whisper, opening the rest of her shirt buttons to give Casey more access. He responded greedily, smothering her with kisses as he finished undressing her.

The next day was more of the same for the drive. Miranda could see why it was exciting for the ranch hands who went chasing after misguided members of the herd, but was having a lot of trouble understanding what would prompt the members of her small but determined group to pay to get to take part. She was quickly learning to hate cattle, and worked hard to keep that attitude from rubbing off on their guests.

By the time they were ready to make camp for the night, Miranda had never been so thrilled to see Casey's face. She tried not to let her discouragement at the long day interfere with their time together, short as it may be. When he left her and came back from the truck with a long garment bag in his hands, telling her to put it on, she momentarily forgot about his promise of a surprise and simply stared at him. How on earth was she supposed to wear anything that came in its own dress bag, given the filthy, sweaty, probably smelly condition she was in?

"Trust me," was all he said, flashing her his heart-stopping grin before running off in search of the rest of her surprise.

Miranda opened the zipper on the garment bag and her breath caught. Inside was a beautiful but simple white cotton dress, with a note pinned to it that said, Marry me. Now.

She reached the gauzy fabric with one tentative hand, then was moved to tears by the wreath of flowers and thin veil hanging inside on another hanger. But how was this possible? They had paperwork to do, licenses to obtain. How had Casey managed this?

Worse, was this just a farce, a show for the paying customers? After all, the city crew had been sweet-talked when Casey kissed her goodbye. Were the Carson's really willing to put her on display to keep their customers happy?

_No!_ Miranda told herself, chastising her for her thoughts. _This is Casey, your future husband. This is no way to think about him. He's not...Mike. He wouldn't use you or hurt you for his own interests._

Miranda ducked into the pull along trailer behind the truck to change into the dress, forcing her concerns aside. When she did so, she gasped. There inside the truck was a roll out bed, made up with soft blankets and sprinkled with flower petals. Unlit candles waited patiently on overturned crates beside it, and a hand-lettered sign hung above the pillows that said _Honeymoon Suite_.

She laughed through her tears at the sweet effort Casey had gone to, then hurriedly unzipped the bag. Her hands shook as she took off her work clothes, wishing she had so much as a container of deodorant, let alone her makeup bag, anything to take the stench of two hard days' work off of her before she was married. As she tried to reach the buttons behind her, the trailer door opened and Gracie stepped in, already dressed in a beautiful, simple pink shift dress, a large flower tucked behind one ear.

"Need any help?" she said, smiling so widely, she could split her face in two.

"How did you rascals pull this off?" Miranda demanded, squeezing her sister in a tight embrace.

"Oh, just worked a little magic. We're still technically in Texas, so this was the last night to get you two hitched before heading on." Gracie turned her sister around and finished buttoning up the white dress, then helped her arrange her hair in something halfway romantic looking, Miranda's soft brown hair flowing down her back in large waves thanks to the tight bun she'd kept it pulled up in when she rode.

"Come on," Gracie directed, stepping out of the trailer. Miranda emerged and looked out into the late dusk sky, trying to see Casey. "Nope, not yet! He's waiting further on."

Gracie took Miranda by the arm, then reached out to the tongue of the trailer hitch and retrieved a bouquet of wildflowers, pressing it into her hand as they walked. Miranda could barely make out the flickering of a camp fire in the distance and knew that was their destination.

When they reached the secluded spot, far away from the watchful eyes of the cowboys and their guests, Casey was waiting for her, watching the darkness on the other side of the fire for her approach. He smiled when he finally saw her, small dots of tears glistening in the corners of his eyes.

Miranda stepped toward him and took his hand, thrilled to see only his immediate family there, and Gracie, of course, with her. Another man whom Miranda didn't know, not minister but a local judge, welcomed them all to this informal but blessed gathering.

She was swept up in a blur of emotion as passages were recited, prayers were offered, and vows were exchanged. Miranda heard Casey promise to love her and take care of her for the rest of his life, and she was overjoyed when the chance came to promise him the same. When Casey put a gold band on her finger, her heart dropped for just a moment until Gracie stepped forward with the ring for Miranda's husband.

The moment Miranda had waited for most was finally here, when the minister said those glorious words, "I now pronounce you husband and wife." Miranda didn't wait for any further instructions, much to the other Carson boys' delight, throwing her arms around Casey's neck and kissing him in front of God and everyone. Somewhere, Miranda heard quiet applause from her new family members, but all she could see was Casey's face.

When she finally turned to look at the group assembled, she was stunned to see more and more of the ranch hands emerge from the shadows, not wanting to encroach on her special moment but wanting to share in the congratulations. She was in turn hugged by nearly everyone there, still in awe of how this all came to be.

The best news of all came when Casey turned to her and said, "Let's go home."

"What?" she asked. "What about the drive? The herd and the city people?"

"All part of the surprise, my love! I knew from the moment I asked you to marry me that we wouldn't go this year. I just had to let you think you had important work to do so you wouldn't discover my secret plans!" Casey kissed her soundly before she could protest. "We're headed back, then on to our honeymoon in Cancun."

"But what about Gracie? Is she coming with us?"

"No," the girl said sourly. "I'm stuck with Emily for the rest of the trip." Then, she laughed. "Go on, have a great honeymoon. I'm in her capable hands and she's not about to let me out of her sight! I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

Miranda couldn't believe this could be real, as so much had happened in such a short time. She watched as one by one the cowboys who made up her new extended family wandered back to the campsite, headed to bed to get up early for another day of herding cattle. Everywhere around her, the farm life she'd known so little about continued on as usual, barely stopping even for the wedding of the firstborn in the next generation, who would work the land.

Casey pulled on her hand gently, letting her know it was time to go. They headed back to the trailer, still giddy from the ceremony and from the realization that—at least once the paperwork was signed and made official—they were husband and wife. They showered off the grime of the drive in the outdoor stalls then made their way to Casey's homemade honeymoon suite, where Miranda decided there was no more romantic place on earth than right there, with her own loving cowboy.

THE END

#  Mending Fences (Texas Heat Series: Book 1)
#  Prologue

The sun was bright, and it shone down on her as if it meant to light her on fire. This was the third time in two weeks that she'd been dragged kicking and screaming by her hair to the broken fence at the edge of her parent's property. It seemed as if some force in the world had wanted to see her suffer. Instead of spending the summer running wild with her friends from school, swimming in a lake and riding horses at summer camp, she'd had to stick behind and put the fence back together. To their mother, the chore was a fair one, since her other siblings were off doing other jobs on the ranch that required just as much attention.

She was fifteen—of course she was going to complain. There wasn't a day that passed that she wouldn't have the need to open her mouth and scream bloody murder as she kicked her feet back and forth in a tantrum that could melt a steel fence.

Marlene O'Connor wiped her brow free of sweat and helped her older brother to hold his post digger as he stuck it into the ground to carve yet another replacement hole for a fence post that had gone missing. She didn't want to be out here in the heat digging holes to begin with, yet her mother made certain to remind her that she wouldn't get dinner for a week if she didn't pitch in. It had been ground into her since birth that it was her responsibility, along with her siblings, that they were to help the family and that keeping the family floating in both good and hard times were above all the most important things a person could do in their lifetime.

She sighed as her brother, Andrew, moved to the next missing fence post. Her father had been beyond grumpy that morning, and it wasn't a hard guess as to why. There wasn't an animal on the planet that could pull a fence post out of the ground and run off with it, or for that matter, run off with the fence wiring that went along with it. The man had been mad enough to spit the nails required to build a house. The money to buy the replacement posts alone were going to put them all out on the street if the culprit wasn't discovered by the end of the summer. As it was, a few of their animals had gotten loose and wandered over into the neighboring ranch to cause trouble. It was a problem to be certain, and heaven help the poor fool when Red O'Connor got hold of him.

"What I can't figure, is who the hell would want a fence post to begin with." Marlene said to Andrew.

He was melting; the sweat was running down the sides of his face and there was enough of it to soak through the collar of his shirt. He paused for a moment and leaned on his digger. "Dad says that he wants to set a trap." He said and wiped his face with his shirt. "Can you imagine him out here in the middle of the night waiting on someone to come by and steal a bit of wood?"

Marlene smiled. "I bet he's a superhero that can eat only wood. He flies down from the sky and yanks a post before you can say lickety split." She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

"Don't be silly," Andrew chuckled. "Hold the digger while I put another post in. We have to get this done before the afternoon, so stop daydreaming about superheroes. If there was one around, I'd already have him digging holes."

***

He was fifteen years old, sure, but he knew beautiful when he saw it. Sure, the missing posts had been his doing, and he was going to keep that a secret until the day he died, but seeing the beautiful girl had been the only thing on his mind when he'd come out in the middle of the night on his boss' land and lifted five posts out of the neighboring rancher's fence line. He'd run into a problem with what to do with the long pieces of wood. The horse that he'd used to ride out to the fence with had disagreed with him when he'd thought to load them onto his back, and even though he was a pretty healthy kid, he couldn't have carried all of them back with him. So, he'd run back to the main farm house, grabbed a shovel and dug a hole large enough to put the posts into the ground for safe keeping. For all he cared, they could remain there until the end of the world.

His world revolved around seeing the beautiful girl that accompanied one of the O'Connor boys out to the fence each time he decided to poke a hole in it. She was beyond beautiful; her hair was a deeply alluring shade of light brown that glinted with red highlights in the sun, and it perfectly complemented her pretty skin which was slightly tan from all the work she'd been doing outside. Slender and lithe, she was like a flower that once seen, demanded to be picked and admired.

Naturally, his efforts to talk to her or get close to her had been thwarted by the rest of the O'Connor clan who thought that a girl ought not to be talking with random ranch hands. He'd gotten more than his share of dirty looks and veiled insults; he knew if he approached her, that the only thing he'd get for his efforts would be to have his feet tied with rope and then strung up in a tree and left for dead. Everyone knew the O'Connor clan prided family and their loved ones above everything else.

"Marlene O'Connor! Stop dawdling and let's get back to the house! Dad will be furious if we're late for lunch!"

_Marlene._ Even her name was beautiful. He closed his eyes and sunk down against the tree he'd been hiding behind. From where he was, he knew that he wasn't going to be seen, even if a little part of him wanted to dash from his hiding place and yell at the top of his lungs so that Marlene would be forced to turn around and see him. They'd never met, and would probably never meet. He knew that if she found out what he'd done to her father's fence and planned to keep doing, that she'd hate him instead of like him. It was a shame; there was never going to be a girl that beautiful in his life again. He was only fifteen, but he was certain of it.

#  Chapter One

It was one of those days that were neither hot nor cold, that once you were out in and out there with nowhere to go but through the best of it, you felt stuck as if you'd fallen into a vat of glue. The only way she had of getting through the afternoon conscious and in one piece was the thought that if she wrapped her car around a tree, her father would find her in the afterlife and punish her for being so stupid.

Marlene O'Connor yawned as she stood outside in the tepid thick air of the late afternoon and pumped gas into the fuel tank of her trusty but rusty vehicle. She had been driving since early in the morning, and she wanted nothing more than to get into the back seat of her four door and crash until someone brought back the dinosaurs. She wouldn't be home for another couple of hours at least, and the thought of having to drive even five miles was enough to exhaust her to the brink of coma.

_Home_ , It meant something more to her now when she thought about it, since it wasn't her little apartment that she was headed to, but rather the ranch that she'd grown up on. She'd had to leave it after she graduated high school; if she hadn't forced herself she would have stayed and never known anything of the outside world other than the fact that horses ate hay and that a work day started before the sun even had the nerve to rise.

She'd wanted to become a nurse. For a reason, one that she didn't fully understand herself, it was within her to help others; the need to be there when others needed her was too powerful to ignore. She supposed that some of it came from the fact that her family was a close knit one, and that they'd all worked hard together to provide for each other and look after one another. Her mother had done well by instilling the fact that hard work paid off in the end and that to get anything in life you had to break a sweat.

Marlene smiled. The family was expecting her, and they were happy to have her home finally after so many years spent away. The vacation time that she'd paid half of her soul to earn was well worth it; the month she'd be staying on her family's ranch sounded better to her than a cruise or a vacation on a deserted beach ever would or could. For the money that she'd spend sailing around in a circle with a bunch of old buzzards playing shuffleboard and a bunch of loser men looking for an easy time, she could save her money and spend the time at home where she knew she'd get the sleep she desperately needed to catch up on the home-cooked meals that could be found nowhere else on the planet.

She looked to the gas pump, realized that it was near to finishing, and just as the tank reached its capacity, she pulled the nozzle. It was one of those nice pumps where you didn't have to go inside and pay, and she thanked the brilliance of it since she was too tired to walk the fifteen feet to the gas station's store. She reminded herself that a few more hours wasn't going to hurt her, and that she'd done far more tiring things in her lifetime.

She lifted her cell phone from her pocket and dialed her oldest brother's line. Since he'd come of age, he'd inherited the reigns of the ranch, and it would be him that she'd need to inform of her pending arrival so that he'd open the gate for her.

"Hello?"

"Hiya, Andrew. I'm just hitting the county line now, and I'll be in town in a few."

"You sound tired. You're all right to drive, aren't you?"

She shrugged, knowing full well that Andrew wasn't able to see the gesture. She said, "I am. I'm probably not going to be up for much when I get home, but tomorrow is another story. I want to ride my mare, so I hope you've made sure that my saddle and everything I need is there for me to use."

"Sure thing, Sis. Just get here in one piece."

Marlene hit the end call function of her cell and pocketed it before she had the mind to call her brother back and tell him that she'd decided to hit up a motel. She knew how badly they all wanted to see her, and even if she'd pay for it later, it was better she get to where she was going. Besides, nothing but fun and relaxation waited for her—at least, that was her brilliant plan.

***

Marlene frowned as she pulled onto the dirt road that led to her family's farm. For one thing, even if she hadn't reached the gate yet, she could see that Andrew had forgotten to open it for her. It meant that she'd be stuck at the entrance until he ran out to open it for her. The only thing she could think of was the bed that was waiting for her on the other side, and it made her grumpy to think that she had to wait that much longer to get to it. Why was it so difficult to do something as simple as opening a gate?

She pulled her car up to the gate, and was about to get out of it when she saw a man on horseback trotting down the fence line. She didn't recognize him, or know him from the next farmhand in the bunch, but as he came closer, she instantly wished she did.

The man was hot. Not hot as in temperature, but hot in the descriptive sense. The temperature in the car had risen, and she fanned herself as she let her eyes roam over him. Probably over six feet standing, the man's long legs hugged the side of the horse he was riding. The jeans he was wearing conformed to the muscular shape of his thighs and as her eyes drifted upwards, she could see the flat of his stomach as the wind kicked up his shirt to reveal the very tanned skin underneath. To top that off, if it was possible to outdo that kind of sight, his face was terribly handsome; not conventionally square, but unique and catching to the eye. His hair was long and it would have been in his eyes if the movement from the horse hadn't brushed it out of the way for him.

When he came to a stop on the other side of the gate, it was all she could do not to get out of the car and introduce herself to him. What would she even say to a man like that? It would have been a miracle if she could have gotten her name to go past her lips before she stripped off all of her clothes and jumped him.

***

Curtis Copeland, ranch hand by trade, pulled the reigns of the horse he was riding and came to a stop at the front gate of the Circle O Ranch. As expected, there was a car out front to greet him, even if the person inside of the car didn't know that that was what he'd come to do.

Andrew O'Connor, his boss, had requested him to take a horse to the gate to open it for a guest that he was expecting. Since it wasn't the first time that Andrew couldn't be bothered to do something as menial as opening a gate, he didn't find it surprising. There wasn't a thing that an O'Connor could do that would surprise him. The whole lot of them were predictable.

He hopped down off of the horse, waved to the car and then made his way to the gate. His mistake came when he bothered to look up to catch a glimpse of the driver.

His breath caught in his throat, and for a long moment he was afraid that he was never going to breathe again. The woman sitting in the driver's seat was drop dead gorgeous. Her long, light-brown nearly amber hair was in ringlets around her shoulders and the ends of her hair reached far enough to brush the top of her breasts. Her cleavage was ample; he could tell this because of the simple tank top she was wearing. As he drifted downwards, he could see the shorts that she was wearing were high enough to expose the creamy color of her thighs and legs.

Her face was the most alluring. Heart-shaped and innocent looking, her nose was pert and perfectly matched to her with full lips that made him wish he knew her name so that he could ask to kiss them. What man wouldn't want to kiss those lips?

This was perhaps the first time that he thanked Andrew for sending him to do his dirty work. He had no idea who the woman was, though he knew certainly that he was going to know her. The most important thing he learned growing up was that to pass up on a beautiful woman was a waste of opportunity. Beautiful women, especially ones that didn't fit the conventional definition of the word, were rare.

Remembering to open the gate, he unlocked the padlock and lifted the hatch. He pulled the long length of it toward himself and had it squared off to the side before he had the time to realize that he'd barely taken his eyes away from the woman. She had to know by now that he'd been staring at her.

The woman pulled her car forward and he thought that it would be the last he'd see of her; at least until he made his way back up to the main house, but then she was coming to a stop in front of him and he was having a hard time ignoring the sudden pounding of his heart as it thudded in his ears.

"Do you know where Andrew is?"

The frown that turned his face upside down couldn't be helped. Of course this gorgeous woman would belong to someone. What man in their right mind would let a woman like this stay single for any length of time? He knew that if he had the chance, he'd bind her so tight to him that escape would be impossible.

He found his voice just seconds after the last of her words hit his ears. "He's up at the house by now. He was out tending to the animals last I checked. Wanted to get everything squared before the sun fell."

"Oh, well," and she faltered. He could hear the stammer in her voice just begging to squiggle out, and curious, Curtis moved from the gate and came up to her driver's side window. Her face was flushed to that perfect blush—the kind of crimson a man likes to see on a woman's face. It ran over her cheek bones enough to give the heart of her face that cute little glow. Adorable would have been his word for it.

"You got a name to you? I can't just say 'hey you' when I see you next." He felt himself leaning and corrected his posture. He wouldn't get that close to her; at least, not yet.

***

Marlene thought that she was going to die from all the blood in her body rushing to locate itself in her face. She couldn't help it; her thoughts always gave her away, and as the man at the gate had come close to her, she'd had nothing but naughty things to think in his direction. The cherry color to her cheekbones, the heat that filled the whole of her body, was nothing but an indication of that knowledge.

She'd asked him about her brother for two reasons. One, she wanted to know where Andrew was, and secondly, she wanted to hear the sound of his voice. As expected, it was deep and it rumbled in just the right way that if he'd been leaning closer to her car, he would have noticed her shiver.

She hadn't expected him to talk to her, or for that matter, ask for her name. It made the cells in her brain scramble to give her the courage and the ability to remember what her name was.

She said, softly and just above a whisper, "My name is Marlene." She remembered her manners at the last second and stuck her hand out through her window. In a louder voice, she said, "My name is Marlene O'Connor, nice to meet you."

Instead of taking her hand and shaking it like a decent man would have done, he backed away from her and went to his horse as if the act of touching her was going to burn the skin from his fingers. The expression on his face had been blank, so there wasn't a way for her to know what might have been going on in his head—if she knew anything, it was that he definitely didn't want a thing to do with her. Understandably disappointed, she withdrew her hand and pushed the gas to her car. She wasn't going to stick around in the wake of something so embarrassing. She might as well have had the words 'I'm an idiot' tattooed to her forehead. Her bet was that he'd gotten a good look at her plain mug and decided that he'd rather shoot himself in the head as to have anything to do with her.

***

Marlene pulled up to her parent's house just as her brother was coming out of it. He looked dirty from the day's work, but as she stopped the car, he saw her and was headed over to her before she'd even cut the engine.

As she got out, his big arms wrapped around her and hugged her tight enough that she wasn't able to inhale.

"Lord girl, you've gotten so tall. I bet since I've seen you that you've gotten at least three feet added."

She smiled as she thumped Andrew on his muscled shoulder. "You missed me so much that you had someone else greet me at the gate?"

Andrew thumbed his chin. "Oh, yeah, about that. I had my new hand run up there to let you in since one of the horses decided to foal right before you got here. Later, after supper, we can go take a look; the newborn ought to be cleaned up real nice by then."

"Who is he?"

Andrew frowned at her. "Who is who? The horse's papa?"

"That hand you sent down to open the gate. Who is he?"

Andrew shrugged. "Nobody really. I had one of my hands leave and he showed up looking for work. I needed the help so here he is. The guy's a ghost. Why are you asking?"

Marlene swallowed. She'd forgotten that Andrew was as sharp as a pitch fork and even worse than her father when it came to men she could possibly be interested in. They had been like that her entire life, and the only one who got more of it than she'd had to go through had been her little sister, Moira. If Moira ever ended up with a man, it would be an act of God. Probably.

"What's his name?"

Andrew shrugged. "What's it matter?" He scratched his head. "Come to think of it, I barely remember any of their names." He grinned. "I've got dinner made, why don't I take your bags inside and let you put your feet up? You know the day comes early on a ranch."

Marlene paled. "Just what do you mean by that? My day is going to start at noon and not a minute sooner. I work too hard to get up at the butt crack of dawn."

Andrew moved to stand at her trunk and he held his hand out for her keys. Once she gave them to him, he said as he lifted the trunk's lid, "You're here now and you're an O'Connor."

Marlene felt her eyes narrow. "I'm your sister, sure, but I'm on vacation. Tell that to someone who hasn't driven all day to get here... in fact, tell that to someone who earns a paycheck from you."

***

Curtis stood in the stall with the horse he'd just brought in and set his hand against the horse's whither. He shouldn't have walked away. Though, and understandably, as soon as that woman had given him her name, everything inside of him had recoiled. Not only was she his boss' sister, but she was completely off limits to him. He shouldn't even have spoken with her.

He sighed. He had done his best to forget his past, even as much as to move in other lines of work, and yet the path his life stubbornly had to take always drew him back to the Circle O and to a particular pretty face that he knew he shouldn't have the stones to even lift his eyes to.

He'd thought to never see her again, much less have the privilege of talking with her face to face, even if when he'd done so he hadn't known it. Of course, he'd dated other women, even came close to marrying one of them, but Marlene had been something else to him. She'd been the one that got away; the forbidden interest that made the endeavor to even see her all the more worthwhile. At least before his conscience got the better of him and he'd given up.

He cocked his head to one side as his horse, Sam, nickered at him to put his face to him again. Sam would get what he wanted or he'd nip his shoulder, so he dipped his head inward.

He wondered how long of a stay little Miss O'Connor was going to have and how long it would take for him to lose his ability to stay away from her. He frowned. At the moment, the woman probably hated his guts and thought that he was the scum of the Earth. She'd offered her hand to him and he'd turned his back on it; no matter where you hailed from or what language you spoke, the action itself was rude. He'd seen her attraction to him, most likely imagined on his part, and to walk away from her had probably hurt her feelings.

At least he still had Sam and he still had a job, though if he couldn't control himself and he approached Marlene, either wouldn't be around much longer than a hot fart in a hurricane.

"Ah, Sam, you have it easy pal. You don't have to worry about what your mare's brother will do to you if you nicker at her, do you? All you have to do is flick your tail and strut your stuff and she's all yours." He set his hand against Sam's neck and ran his fingers through the horse's thick mane. "What a life you've got. I'd kill to have it as easy as all that, I'll tell you."

He chuckled as he remembered Sam was a gelding. Poor guy didn't have it easy after all. Still, if Sam could talk to him, he'd tell him to own his pair and cowboy up. To pout over old mistakes and missed chances was a waste of time.

Marlene didn't know it yet, but she was in for one hell of a visit. If it was the last thing he did, he was at least going to tell her his name. If anything beyond that happened, he'd look skyward and thank God for the favor he'd given him. He'd have to plan the interlude for a time when her brother's ever watchful gaze wouldn't find him and obliterate him back to pre-existence.

#  Chapter Two

Marlene's eyes opened before she was ready for them to. It was still dark out and yet because she'd grown up at Circle O, her ears and her mind remembered the sounds of the early morning and she was unable to keep on sleeping. Someone was already out in the pasture and collecting the previous day's manure from the horses that had been out during the day, and there were lights on in the barn to let her know that the horses were being brushed and fed and standing patiently while their stalls were mucked clean. Even though she couldn't see them, someone was out on a lawn mower and cutting grass. The sun hadn't even come up, and yet there was probably a ranch hand out there with fog lights attached to his mower cutting the over growth like a redneck champ.

She sat up, ran a hand through her tangled bed hair and once she got her bearings she got up and dressed. She'd sworn she'd stay asleep, comfortably wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets until she damn near turned into a butterfly, but with the sounds of work around her bleating at her subconscious, she couldn't go back to that bliss even if she'd wanted to.

By the time she made it to the kitchen, Andrew had already left for the morning, but there was a note left next to a coffee mug that had the words, "I told you so," written in Andrew's rough scribble. She smiled as she picked the note up and folded it to put in her pocket. Some things, no matter how much time passed, would never change.

After the best cup of coffee she could remember having in a long time, she moved to the porch with a book so that she could sit in the new light of the day and read. She read often; in her down time when she wasn't working at the hospital, she loved to explore the lives of others and to picture what the worlds they lived in looked like. It was nothing for her to sit for a few hours and let the words blur until she found herself there with the characters, fighting their battles with them, by their sides, even if she knew that she had to come back to the real world for a time to live her own life.

Contrary to popular belief and to the conviction of the other nurses that she worked with, she did have a life. She hadn't had a boyfriend in a while, but it wasn't because she didn't have offers. It was good for her to be single now - she had a good job that she loved doing and she didn't want anything in it that would complicate what she had or distract her from it. She had been there and it wasn't worth the headache. While she was younger and in college and exploring all the interesting little things that life could offer, she'd been too often distracted. There were too many times when she'd come close to losing what she'd worked hard to make happen for herself.

As she read her book, she let her mind drift to the potential distraction she'd met yesterday at the front gate. She was pretty sure nothing would come of it; in fact, she would probably never see him again. She smiled wryly; imagine calling a man who wasn't even attracted to her a distraction.

"Dream on, Marlene." She muttered to herself.

She wondered at the silence of the house behind her. It was never quiet in there growing up, and she knew that once the rest of her family returned from the horse show that had the clan absent for the first two days of her visit, the noise they'd bring back with them would be deafening. Still, it was worth the noise to be able to wrap her arms around her mother's waist and have her cheeks pinched by her still able-bodied grandmother. She'd probably hit her sixties with her grandmother still kicking it with the best of them; when she was a little girl, she'd known without a doubt that the woman was immortal.

Marlene let out the air in her lungs slowly over the pages of her book and watched them flutter briefly before she closed it. While the book was fascinating, she couldn't get into it. For some darned reason, she couldn't get the image of that cowboy off her mind. The way his rear had looked in a pair of jeans... she broke off to lightly fan herself with her hand, feeling unusually warm.

"Hey, lazy bones!"

"Hey, you" she said with a smile as her brother crossed the yard and bounded up to the porch, his face ruddy from the exertion of his morning work.

She stood from her chair, set her book in the seat and had just enough time to face Andrew before he grabbed her in a bear hug.

When he let her go, he held onto her shoulders.

"I see you're up." He said with a smile.

"Yes, I am." She grinned up at him.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to sleep the day away."

"I wanted to," she said with a shrug. It wasn't as though she hadn't tried.

He dropped his hands and stepped back.

"We should go riding in the fields like we used to. Would you like that?"

Marlene hid her exasperation. She thought her brother's treatment of her was fitting for a girl rather than a woman, and she was hardly a child.

"Sure. I was thinking I'd like to get to know my mare again, she was always the most loving horse anyone could ask for."

Andrew opened his mouth to speak and then shut it as his cell phone jingled the tune to Walker Texas Ranger.

"Hold that thought." He picked the phone out of his pocket and stepped away from her.

For the few minutes he talked on the phone, Marlene could tell that she wasn't going to be riding with her brother on the back of a horse any time soon. As he turned to her with a frown on his face, her assumptions were verified.

"Sorry Marlene. I've got to handle some business."

"So we're not going on that ride, are we?" In spite of herself, she felt a trickle of disappointment.

"No, we're not. I need to settle some stuff with the feed guy before Dad gets home." His smile was filled with regret.

"Well, I am here for the month." She said trying to make him feel better.

"One of the ranch hands will help you to get your mare out of the stable, I'm sure. You don't mind riding by yourself?" He looked worried.

"Relax, Andrew, I'll be fine."

"You'll be careful as you go about by yourself, won't you?" He asked looking serious, "I hate to think of what I'll have to tell Ma if anything happened to you."

"You know, I am a grown woman and I've lived all by my lonesome for years now," she said with a frown, not trying to disguise her exasperation anymore.

He laughed and ruffled her hair just as though she were still a kid and was gone. She watched him hop into his truck and knew that even though he was a busy man that his heart was in the right place.

***

It was another day and another morning and he knew that with time, he could forget that he'd ever seen Marlene at the gate. She wouldn't have him, couldn't have him, and he'd have to be okay with it.

Curtis frowned as he thought about the girl he hadn't been able to stop thinking about for the past ten years. Of course, she was no longer a girl and now a full grown woman; just a minor detail to add to the thoughts that had tormented him for years. In part, she'd been the reason that he couldn't bear to stay off of a ranch, or for that matter, stay away from the O'Connor's Circle O.

He'd never been much for school; even when he'd tried to hit the books, his mind would wander and he'd forget where he was. At times, it was hard enough even staying away. No, he'd not been the kind to study hard and get good grades; he was the type of man that needed to get his hands dirty and have the sun at his back and feel the wind in his hair. It didn't mean he was stupid either; the kind of smarts he had couldn't be gained from any book - you couldn't learn from a book how not to get thrown from a horse that had a fear of puddles.

He found himself inside of the stable for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning, and his frown deepened as he looked at the state of stables. The other workers had carelessly thrown their saddles to one side instead of hanging them up on their posts like they were supposed to. If he didn't see to them, Andrew O'Connor would ream him from now until the same time the next week.

He bent to pick up the first of the saddles and as he rose with it, his eyes lifted and caught sight of Marlene as she headed into the stable. From where he was, she wasn't able to see him, and for a long moment he thought about keeping it that way. If he started with her now, there was a good chance that he'd never want to stop talking to her. However, his curiosity burned with the need to know her, to hear her speak. He wanted to know what her life was like and what she did for a living; he'd even settle for her favorite color. Truth was, he couldn't keep away even if he wanted to.

He set down his saddle and brushed off his pants with the flat of a palm. Without thinking, he ran a hand through the dark pelt on top of his head that refused to be tamed. Nothing on the planet could get his hair to lie flat against his skull and he was used to it. He straightened his back, tried to plaster a smile on his face and failed. Giving up, he moved around the front stalls so that Marlene could get a good look at him.

As her eyes caught his, she started to smile and then stopped. Her expression went blank as her feet carried her the few feet forward to meet him. She looked as if she was about to undergo a root canal. Either that, or she believed that she was about to be run over by a semi-truck.

Her face wasn't welcoming so his eyes looked elsewhere. She looked better than she should have in a simple T-shirt and jeans, which she'd tucked into a pair of boots. No woman had the right to look to damned good in that getup. He noticed that she was in good form and was tempted to let a wolf whistle escape him, but caught himself just in time.

"Hi," he forced his vocal chords to work.

"Hi."

She didn't say anything else beyond that and he didn't know how to go on. He walked forward and leaned against a beam.

"Is there anything I can help you with? He finally asked.

***

Marlene was still trying to catch her breath. She'd walked towards the stable not expecting to see him, but secretly hoping that she would and then she'd looked up and there he was. Her heart missed a beat and her steps had faltered. Then she'd made herself keep walking, as though drawn by an irresistible force. She remembered his question now.

"Er, I..."

This was too embarrassing. She was sounding like a tongue-tied teenager, with her first crush and she couldn't have that.

"Cat got your tongue?"

His words immediately eased the tension between them and she felt her lips twitch.

"Well," she drawled with a smile, "I came down here to find my mare. Do you think you can help me? Maybe even help me to find her a saddle so that I can take her out for a ride?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

He stared at her silently for a moment and then a slow smile inched up his face. Marlene caught her breath as his face was transformed from its chiseled hardness to drop dead gorgeous. Her pulse began to race.

"Sure thing," he said with a nod and then pointed toward a corner over her right shoulder. "The light saddles are over there, the heavier ones are behind me. The tack for the individual horses are in their stalls, along with their brushes and blankets." He paused and folded his arms to his chest. "You do know how to tack a horse, right?"

"It's been a very long time since I rode a horse." She said with a shrug.

"Well, I'm sure you'll do okay. Do you have a horse of your own?"

"Yes, I do. My father gave Ginger to me before I left for college."

"Why would he give you a horse just as you're leaving for college?"

"His idea was that I'd fall in love with her and come home often to ride her and take care of her."

"And did you?" He asked, sounding genuinely curious.

She closed her eyes with the memory and continued, "I did for the first couple of years. While I was in college, I was home as often as possible to come ride her. But then I started work at the hospital and I came home to visit less and less."

"You work at a hospital?"

She opened her eyes and stared at him, and then almost forgot to answer. He was staring at her with focused intensity. She took a deep breath and released it in a rush before speaking, "Well, sure, I'm a nurse."

"Huh."

Marlene felt her eyebrows bunch together. Curtis seemed satisfied with the answer and before she could say anything else or keep the conversation going, he moved past her and went for the saddles on the wall. He pulled one down, tucked it underneath his arm and then walked past her a second time. As he neared the first of the stalls, he looked over his shoulder at her.

"Well come on if you're coming. I think Ginger is in the last stall on the left."

Marlene was confused. What did she say? Why had he become abrupt that way? Without a word, she followed after him. When they reached her mare's stall, she watched as he slung the saddle over onto the stall's door before he unlatched it and opened it just enough so that he could slide through. She moved to the door as it closed shut and leaned on it.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Curtis stopped what he was doing and as he kept his back turned away from her, she watched him inhale and then sigh.

"I'm sorry. It's just—I have no idea what to say to you. I'd talk about the color of dirt if that's what you found interesting."

His honesty surprised and delighted her, so much so that she chuckled in relief.

"How about I start with your name and we can go from there."

"Curtis." As he said this, he kept a hand on Ginger's roan-colored coat and he extended the other toward her. "I'm Curtis Copeland."

Marlene considered giving him the same cold shoulder that he'd given to her, but then she saw his eyes and she could tell that he was attempting to make up for their first meeting. She swallowed before she took hold of his hand.

The feel of his warmth as she enclosed her fingers around it made her want to close her eyes and lean until she ran smack into the rest of him. She made the mistake of gazing up at him and felt like she was drowning in the depth of the twin pools.

It seemed like it took forever to let go of his hand, but when she did, she closed it over and held it to her chest in an instinctual gesture. She could feel the pace of her heart thumping against her rib cage through her flesh and her shirt. She mentally shook her head and focused on the reason she'd come to visit the stables in the first place.

Ginger was the same as she'd remembered her. Ginger's coat had just the lightest spattering of grey through her fur which gave her the dusty appearance of ginger roots. As a filly, she'd been as spicy as her namesake, though as she'd gotten older she'd relaxed some and the bond that developed between them had been like nothing she'd had with any other animal, or for that matter, any human being.

She made two short whistles between her teeth which had Ginger twitching her ears and lifting her head. The mare nickered and moved to come over to her stall's door so that she could nuzzle the shoulder of her favorite person. It was as if she was saying that she'd missed her and that she wasn't pleased it had taken her human so long to come back to her.

"Seems like she remembers you."

Marlene nodded. "No matter how long we spent apart, Ginger has always been my horse." What she didn't mention was that she called father all the time to remind him to send her pictures. She must have a million of them all over the apartment; instead of the crazy lonely cat lady, she was the nut bar horse whisperer."

#  Chapter Three

Marlene had forgotten the feel of a horse beneath her, the feel and sense of freedom that the movement provided. Perched on top of Ginger with nothing to separate them except for the saddle she inhaled the fresh air and as she exhaled, felt the stress of the past years seep out of her body. She hadn't felt this relaxed in years and she wasn't sure there was a masseuse on the planet that could give her that kind of satisfaction.

"You okay?"

She looked at the man who had been silently riding beside her and smiled slightly.

"I'm fine."

"You looked..." he shrugged, "you looked weird just now."

"I was just remembering how wonderful it is to be out here in the silence. There's nothing like this in the world—nothing can even come close to it."

He smiled at her and she felt a flutter in her belly. She glanced away in confusion. Why was she reacting so strongly to this man? He was just a typical cowboy, dressed in jeans and T-shirt and a cowboy hat. What was so different about him that she was all in a tizzy? As that she felt a small smile on her lips; that was a word her grandmamma loved and she hadn't heard it, much less thought it in years. She stole a glance at the cowboy from the corner of her eyes. He looked completely relaxed, as though he was in his element, which he probably was. He had insisted on coming along with her for the ride, not happy with the fact that she'd planned to ride out on her own. How typically male, she thought.

"You know, I must have been out here a few thousand times, but now it seems like coming out here today has been the best idea I've ever had."

She chuckled. "Technically, it wasn't your idea." She pulled Ginger to a stop. "You know, since you're here with me, why don't we have a race? Let's see whose horse is faster."

Curtis lifted an eyebrow. "You sure you want to tangle with a man and his horse? You're prepared to lose, aren't you?"

Marlene grinned. "I don't think so, cowboy. I think you should prepare yourself to eat my dust." She pulled Ginger to the side and waited for Curtis to come up beside her. She turned to look at him and as he looked at her they both nodded in unison.

She gazed away and looked ahead of her, leaning slightly forward in the saddle. She lifted the reigns and knew that Curtis was doing the same. At some point, whether it was verbal or not, they both shouted and their horses took off. They were flying suddenly, the horses' hooves barely touching the ground as they galloped across the expanse of ground. In a few minutes, they covered half a mile of wilderness.

Marlene wanted to win, that was the crux of it. She wanted to move as fast as she could and as hard as she could on the back of her horse and outdistance this man. It wasn't as if she wanted to be better than him, just prove to him somehow that she was worth it. It was ridiculous.

She wasn't paying attention to where she was going, save for the fact that her eyes could see where she was going. Her brain was elsewhere, thinking of silly things, and she didn't see the ground water in front of her before it was too late. Ginger, unfortunately saw it; she pulled herself to a stop so quickly that the sudden force from the stop catapulted her hapless rider through the air.

Truly, she was flying. Marlene thought that if only she could somehow learn how to keep herself in the air, that she would never have to suffer the landing that she knew was rushing up to greet her. She hit the ground hard and she rolled instinctively. She came to a stop only when her back hit against a tree and then she simply lay there.

Stunned was the word, or perhaps shock. Either one of the words would have worked for her and for the pain that wandered through her nervous system. She didn't think anything was broken, but then again, she didn't want to move enough to find out if anything was broken.

A pair of warm and gentle hands touched her and rolled her onto her back. She had to blink a few times so that she could focus enough to see the face that was hovering just above hers. The face was handsome, deeply worried, but handsome.

She might have been a little dazed from the fall, perhaps hit her head a few times as she rolled to a stop, but she thought it was perfectly natural to touch the handsome face hovering over.

***

Curtis knew that Marlene had suffered at least a good knock to her head when she lifted her hand and put it to the side of his face. She was serene, smiling and out of reflex, he put his hand over hers. While she was otherwise occupied, he used his other hand to look her over for rough patches or blood. The only blood he saw was from a small cut on her forehead.

"Hey, Doll, you need to listen to me for a minute. Can you tell me where you hurt?"

Marlene smiled at him. "You're a handsome man, Curtis.""

"I think the knock to your noodle is telling you to say things," Curtis replied.

"But you are handsome." She said with a pout.

"How many fingers do you see?" he held up two fingers, ignoring what she'd just said.

"Two fingers, Curtis." She said with an impatient sigh, "Now help me up so I can get back on Ginger."

"I'm not sure you should move just yet."

"I'm fine."

"Maybe I should call your brother."

"What? No! Why on earth would you want to do that?"

"If he finds out that something like this took place and I didn't call him..." He let his words trail away.

Marlene knew what he meant; her family was all protective of each other, but Andrew could be a little controlling. There was no use pretending otherwise, Andrew was more than a little controlling; he'd turned it into a new art form. If he knew that she'd fallen off her horse, he would do his best to ensure she didn't ride for the one month she was home. She suppressed a shudder at the thought and turned pleading eyes toward Curtis.

"Curtis, please..." she began hesitantly, "I don't want you to get in trouble, but if Andrew finds out he's going to blow it all out of proportion."

"I don't know, Marlene." He said sitting down next to her. He sighed and avoided her gaze.

She placed a gentle hand on his arm and waited till he turned to look at her. "Please."

He let out his breath in a sigh. "Okay." He agreed.

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

They were both silent a while then, "How do you feel?"

"I think I hit my head."

He nodded.

"I think we should move from the forest and take the horses with us. I have a first aid kit back at my cabin; we can bunk there while I see to that head of yours."

"Okay."

***

Curtis rode on the back of Sam and it felt like the longest ride of his life. Sitting behind him with her arms around him was Marlene. She'd been in no form to ride and so he had put her on his own horse. Now the bulge in his southern region was telling him he was in no form to ride either. His chest felt tight and he had to struggle to get air inside his lungs. He didn't know what to say to her and so he remained silent. It was like all his all his fantasies rolled into one. And yet, at the back of his mind was the niggling warning, the certainty that he could have nothing to do with her; not seriously anyway.

All too soon, they were at his cabin. He got off Sam and turned to Marlene to help her off the Stallion's back. She slid forward out of the saddle and down to where she was braced between the horse and his body. She reached out as though to touch him and then withdrew her hand. He told himself it was not disappointment he was feeling.

"Let me tie the horses up and then we'll get you inside." He said brusquely.

***

Marlene waited for him and then together they walked into the small place he called home.

"Hey, I remember this cabin." She said.

"Really?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, my brothers and I used to play here." She admitted.

Looking around she could see that it had undergone some fixing up over the years. It looked to her like the supreme bachelor pad; there was even a bit of his clothing scattered helter skelter and bunched in random corners. Someone had come by and given him curtains—the sunflower pattern was definitely something she knew Curtis wouldn't have chosen for himself.

Curtis gestured for her to have a seat on his sofa and then he disappeared into a back room. A few minutes later he came out carrying a battered-looking first aid kit which he sat between them as he sat with her on the sofa. He opened it and poured antiseptic on to a pad of gauze which he then put to the cut on her forehead.

Marlene winced as the alcohol made the cut sting, but then Curtis was removing the gauze and leaning forward to blow on the cut so that it didn't continue to sting. He smiled at her as he moved slightly backward.

"You're a beautiful woman, Marlene."

She felt a blush rise to color her face and she looked away from him. While it wasn't a new concept to her, it had been some time since a man had verbally appreciated her appearance.

"I'm glad to hear that" she said meeting his gaze boldly. "I was sure you didn't think that when you first met me."

He frowned.

"I understand how you could think that," he said. "I was unforgivably rude the first day we met, and I'm so sorry."

She shrugged, not wanting to admit to him how much it had hurt. She opened her mouth to tell him it didn't matter, but his fingers on her lips stopped her. She froze as a bolt of lightning shot through her. Gazing into his eyes, she was surprised by the longing she found in their depths.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met," he said softly.

He took his hand off her mouth and she felt her lips tingling where his fingers had been.

"How can you say that?" she asked, her voice a little breathless. "I bet there have been plenty of beautiful women in your life."

From nowhere, a spark of hurt hit her, which was ridiculous considering she had no claim on him. He was a fully grown man; even she would have been worried if there weren't other women in his life. She shook her head and looked away from his too perceptive gaze.

"I'm sorry, forget I said that."

"There have been other women; I'd be a liar if I said otherwise." He took hold of her hand, and again his features turned serious, "But..." he seemed to have some difficulty articulating what he wanted to say. "You're just different."

Confused, she opened her mouth to ask him how she was different, but her phone began to ring. She knew it was her brother because of the ring tone, one she'd specially assigned to him.

"Andrew?"

"Where the hell are you?" His brusque tones came across, putting her on the defensive.

"I went for a ride, remember?"

"It's been hours and you're not on the trail."

"I'm fine, Andrew."

She heard him sigh.

"Look, I'm worried, okay. Just humor me and tell me where you are."

Like that was going to happen.

"I'm fine. I was out riding on Ginger with Curtis and Sam. Ginger started at a puddle and threw me, so I ended up at Curtis' cabin. I'm fine, I promise."

"Who the hell is Curtis? Are you still on the ranch?"

"Curtis is your ranch hand, Andrew. You know? The one you sent to meet me at the front gate yesterday? He helped me tack Ginger and then he was kind enough to join me out on the trail. He's been taking care of me."

She could tell her brother was less than impressed.

"So where are you two?" he asked, his tone deceptively gentle.

"At his cabin."

"Alone?"

"Alone."

He let out a string of swear words and Marlene swore, holding the phone away from her ears. When she brought it back, she could hear him yelling.

"I want you to get back to the house now. What the hell are you doing alone in a cabin with a strange man? You know better than that Marlene. You saddle up your horse and get back here. Now, Marlene!"

Marlene listened to his tirade and felt anger beginning to get ahold of her. She was reminded with full force of why she'd left home in the first place.

"You are not my keeper, Andrew O'Connor. I am a grown woman and I can make choices for myself. If I want to be in Curtis' company, there isn't a thing you can say about it. So put that into your pipe and smoke it!"

"I can fire him. Get your rear back to the house before I lose my temper, Marlene. You don't belong hanging around that man."

She sighed. "You know you can be such an ass, Andrew. I'm coming home and don't think this is over."

Before Andrew could shout at her some more, she hung up her cell phone and slid it back into her pocket. She turned to face Curtis, who had been listening quietly while she'd argued with her eldest sibling.

"I better go before he goes nuclear."

"You don't have to, you know."

"I know. But Andrew..." she sighed, not knowing how to describe her bossy and controlling brother. "I don't want him to fire you." She said at last.

He shrugged, "There are other ranches around and there's always work for a ranch hand."

She knew what he was saying. He was letting her know that he wanted to keep seeing her and didn't mind if he lost his job. The enormity of that scared her and she scrambled up to her feet.

"I should be on my way."

"Let me take you back." There was an awkward tension between them and then he lifted his hand and gently pushed back a few strands of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. "Thank you."

#  Chapter Four

After Marlene left his cabin, Curtis felt an unusual restlessness overtake him. Well, not so unusual, he remembered with a wry smile that the only other time he'd felt that way had been because of the same woman. Throughout that summer when he was young, he'd felt that way until he'd caught sight of Marlene. And since then, there were days he couldn't get her off his mind and the restless feeling wouldn't leave until he took some random woman to the sack, just to get one specific woman off his mind.

His jeans had become uncomfortably tight in some areas because of the hard on he'd been sporting. It was a wonder she hadn't noticed it; she probably would have run screaming from him. He sighed then. He probably wasn't going to see her again. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he rejected it outright. He couldn't not see her.

He had not lied to her when he'd said she was different. She made him feel as if he was capable of anything, as if he was worthwhile. She made his heart feel lighter—someone could have come up to him that afternoon and shot him in the back and he wouldn't have felt a thing as long as Marlene kept smiling at him.

He put a hand to his cheek. He could still feel the slight light touch of her warm fingers as they'd glided across his skin. If he died at this exact moment, he'd die a happy man for the gift she'd given him. Sure, she'd been delirious when she'd put her hand to his face, but even after she'd gotten her head back together, she'd seemed more than willing to stay close to him.

He closed his eyes and sighed again. Marlene O'Connor spelled nothing but trouble. If he were wise, he'd do the smart thing and stay away from her. Losing his job would be the least of his worries if her brothers caught up with him. But then, no one had ever accused him of doing the smart thing. He had walked away from Marlene and the possibilities once because he hadn't had much of a choice. He wasn't going to do that again, not if he could help it.

***

As she finally made it back to the main house, Marlene felt achy and in dire need of a bed due mainly to the fact that she'd been thrown five feet through the air from the back of a horse. Even though she had some talking to do with her brother, she figured the majority of her tongue lashing could be achieved at a later date. Besides, a lot of her anger had fizzled out and she was just irritated at Andrew's overprotective streak.

He was waiting for her in front of their home.

"There you are," he said with a lopsided smile. "I really was worried."

He opened his arms wide and she stepped into them, even as she shook her head at him.

"You didn't have to yell at me over the phone, you know." She chided gently.

"I know and I apologize."

That was the problem with Andrew, Marlene thought. It was almost impossible to stay angry at him.

And then he squeezed her and she yelled.

"Ouch! I'm hurting all over right now, Andrew, please don't squeeze me like that."

He drew back with a frown and studied her face.

"You're serious then about being thrown? I thought you'd just made it up so that you could spend time with that cowboy."

She scowled at him.

"If I was going to make something up, I would have been a tad bit more creative than that don't you think?"

"I don't want you seeing him."

She stepped back and placed her hands on her hips.

"Really? Alright, tell me, what do you have against that man? All he was doing was making sure that I was all right, that I didn't need to be rushed off to a hospital. As a matter of fact, you should be thanking him that he had the presence of mind to be out there on the trails with me in the first place. What do you think would have happened if I had been out there by myself when Ginger threw me? What if I had hit a tree and died? Would you still be upset that I had been with a man then?"

Andrew moved his lips to defend himself and she held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't even say a word." She frowned. "Every man that got close to me was run off by my family. Sure you all have not been around for the past few years, but I was too busy to even think of being in a relationship. Now, I've met someone who is sweet, and doesn't seem to care that he might be on the wrong side of the almighty O'Connor men. He's been nothing but kind to me and a gentleman to boot. Now, if you want to get upset over something as trivial as my spending an afternoon with him, then go ahead. Just don't tell me about it."

She watched as Andrew's face ran through a few emotions before finally landing on contrition.

"Geez, Marlene, I'm sorry." He rushed a hand through his hair as he toed the ground with a one of his booted feet. He said, "I just want to look out for you is all. The men I hire are all rough guys. They do a good job but they eat and breathe grit. I wouldn't want someone to hurt you or take advantage of you."

She moved to her brother and punched him on the upper part of his right arm. "Just try to give people a chance. There's nothing wrong with Curtis, in fact he's much better at being a good man than half of the men I've met over my lifetime. I don't know if there's anything much more to us than just talking—like you said, I just met him."

He sighed.

"You deserve better than that."

"Way to go being a snob, big brother." she said giving him a disgusted look. "Look, I need a shower." She turned to leave and then paused, "Look I'm only here for a month. Please don't make me regret coming back home."

And with that she walked into the house.

Marlene took a shower to wash all of the grime from the outside from her body down the drain, and after a good meal, she nestled up on the sofa in the living room. It was large, comfortable and appropriately ugly. It was the kind of older couch that was to be expected in the homes of folks aged beyond fifty. For a reason she couldn't quite explain, she loved it.

She wanted to curl up with a book and get back on track to the reason she'd come out to her childhood home; the point to all of this was to relax and forget that there was an entire world waiting for her to return to—a world in which she didn't have the luxury of reading a book or sleeping until she felt like waking up or for that matter, meeting handsome men that were kind enough to carry them on the back of a horse to their home so that they could patch up her boo boos.

For the second time since she'd tried to do it, she tossed her book to the side and decided once and for all that she was going to give up trying to get through it. There were far more interesting things going on around her than what was happening within its pages.

She knew that Andrew had gone out again, saying that he had to make sure that all of the animals had been fed and that his men had done their job as he'd asked them to do, so for the most part she was stuck in a big house all alone with nothing better to do than eye a book as if staring at it could set it on fire.

She couldn't get Curtis out of her mind. She hadn't had that sort of connection with a man in such a very long time. She paused to reflect and came to the conclusion that she had not ever had the kind of connection she seemed to have with Curtis. She stood up restlessly and walked to the kitchen to get some water.

As she drank, she remembered the look in his eyes when he'd told her he didn't mind losing his job over her. It had made her nervous, like this wasn't just some random thing for him; like it wasn't just about the hot chemistry between them. She was so attracted to him and she saw in his eyes that he felt the same way about her. And yet, she'd sensed that for him, it was deeper than just sexual attraction which was crazy seeing as they'd only just met.

Marlene shook her head in wry amusement. It was obvious that her wishful thinking was getting better of her. She rinsed the cup and was wondering what to do with herself when suddenly, an idea entered her mind. It was bold and audacious, and not something she'd normally do. But this was different, and she owed it to herself to see where it led to. With a smile, she turned and headed for her room.

***

Curtis was about ready to fall asleep when he heard a knock at the door. At first, he was prepared to ignore it, considering that there shouldn't be someone at his door annoying him, but then as the knock continued, he felt compelled to answer it if for no other reason than to make it stop. He looked down at his bare chest and briefly thought about covering it up, but he wasn't the intruder. He was going to stay comfortable in his own home, damn it.

The last person he expected to see at his front door was Marlene. She was looking spectacular in the fading light of the evening, her face ruddy and smiling. For a long moment, he didn't say a thing, but then he grinned with her and asked, "What brings you by here? Did you forget something from earlier?"

Marlene shook her head. "I just thought that I'd come by and apologize for my brother. He doesn't have a right to tell me what I can and can't do. That and I wanted to thank you for being so kind to me. You really were very sweet."

Curtis noticed the backpack that she had on her shoulder. "What's that you have there?"

"I grabbed some things out of the kitchen and then I thought that it would be nice to watch a movie while we talked—if that's something you wouldn't mind doing." Her smile faltered a bit.

He stood away from the door and pressed it open with an arm so that she would know that he was inviting her inside. He caught her looking at his chest and then as their eyes met, she blushed furiously. As she walked past him, he couldn't keep the grin off his face. It felt good to be admired, even if it was just a blush on the face of a pretty woman. So that he didn't make her feel uncomfortable, he decided that he'd go and rustle up a shirt for himself; it wouldn't do to have her distracted while they were trying to get to know one another. At the idea that he was even going to be allowed that opportunity, he wanted to do a little dance of happiness right then and there.

Marlene sat down on his sofa and he tilted his head toward the back end of his cabin as he made sure to let her know that that was where he was going to be for a moment, and then after he'd grabbed himself a T-shirt, he joined her on the sofa.

"You know, I don't own a DVD player. Actually, I think the biggest problem would be that I don't own a television."

Marlene frowned at him. The way the corners of her face turned down, it looked more to him like a pout than a frown. The effect was cute.

"What do you do in your down time if you don't at least have a television to watch? Don't you get bored?" she asked in surprise.

"I work all day long, every day all week long." He said with a shrug as though that should explain everything. When he stole a glance at her, he saw that it did explain everything.

"What of family?" she asked curiously.

He shrugged.

"I don't have family to speak of. Maybe a half-brother somewhere, I'm not sure."

She frowned, looking so pretty as she tried to figure out what he'd just said.

"How can you not know if you have a half-brother or not?"

"Well, I grew up in an orphanage, but I seem to recall that there were two of us before I ended up at the orphanage. I was just two years old, so I'm not really sure. I dream about it sometimes though." He shrugged again.

In the silence that followed, Curtis wondered why he'd told her about that. He had never mentioned it to anyone before, ever.

"I don't know why I told you that," he said avoiding her gaze. "You just seem easy to talk to, like I've known you forever."

He looked at her then and she was smiling a soft, smile. He saw the tenderness in her eye and his chest tightened. No one had ever directed tenderness his way before.

"I feel the same way. It's just so easy to talk to you—to want to talk to you." She sounded as surprised as he felt.

Curtis watched as Marlene reached into her backpack and pulled out a pie tin and a couple of forks. She set it on the coffee table in front of them, and before he could offer to go and get some plates for them, she scooted off the sofa and sat on the floor with the pie on the table in front of her. She looked up at him.

"You want to sit down here with me? It's a shame we can't watch a movie, but we can talk about anything you want to."

He didn't need to be asked twice. Soon they were both sitting on the floor and eating pie off of his coffee table. It was weird that something so simple felt so extraordinary.

"So," Marlene began, "did you always want to work on a ranch?"

Curtis swallowed the bite of pie that he had in his mouth. He was pleased that it was a blueberry pie—there was no way that she could have known that blueberries were one of his favorite things to eat.

He shrugged.

"It's good work." He'd tried his hands at different things, including riding the rodeo. He'd been good at that too, but the fast life and faster women just weren't for him, so he'd quit and gone back to working as a hand. "Did you always want to be a nurse?" he asked.

She cocked her head to the side.

"I wanted to help people. I thought about becoming a doctor, but then I learned that nurses get to be with people all the time and so I went to school for nursing. It's what I've come to know I was meant to do with my life."

He could believe her too. He heard the passion in her voice and couldn't keep the admiration from his.

"You're an incredible person. I think it's wonderful that you have such a sense of direction. Not many people have that in their lives."

Marlene frowned at him. "You know, I keep looking at you and I keep getting reminded of a summer I had here a long time ago where say this boy. He was working for the neighboring ranch that summer. You have dark hair like he did."

He felt his heart start and then stutter thump to a halt. It wasn't possible that she could know about his past with her, or the fact that he spent an entire summer as a teenager attempting to destroy her father's ranch. He swallowed a few times and kept his gaze from her in the hopes that she wouldn't see from his expression the guilt that he still carried around with him. For a long moment he said nothing at all and when she stopped to stare at him, he got the impression that she felt that she'd said something wrong to him.

He said finally, "What makes you think of him when you see me, other than the dark hair?"

He couldn't help himself; he was too curious. Was it possible that she'd been looking at him as he'd been looking at her?

She replied, "One day during that summer, I had gone out with Andrew to buy more supplies for the fence that we were repairing. I saw the boy doing work out in the field. I never did get to learn his name even though I seriously wanted to, but I thought that he was handsome. I guess I was trying to tell you that I thought you were handsome too."

Curtis smiled and pretended to shine an individual badge on his chest. "Well, isn't that something. I think you're beautiful, so I suppose we're even."

They both laughed at that.

"You really saved me today. I could have been really hurt and you took care of me."

He shrugged. "It's what any man should do when someone, especially a woman is in trouble. Besides, your brother would have had my hide if I hadn't done something to help his sister."

"I should thank you for not calling him, too. I think you know already that he tends to worry too much where I'm concerned."

Curtis scoffed and decided to change the subject. "So, you never did tell me why you're here instead of back at that apartment of yours taking care of sick folks."

Marlene chuckled at him. "I'm on vacation, silly. I came here to get some fun and relaxation and maybe to forget for a while that I'm so busy that I barely have time for anything else. That and I miss my family. I haven't been home in a long time."

He turned his head to look at the clock on his wall in his kitchen and he frowned. It was going on nine at night and it was getting dangerously close to that hour where it would no longer appear appropriate for Marlene to keep visiting him. Not that he could give a damn what appeared proper or not. Even though they were doing nothing more than sharing dessert and talking with each other, he had to admit that he was having the time of his life. So what if someone might think that Marlene had come to him to bed him down after just having met him? If it wasn't true, it wasn't true. Only, he did care what people thought of her. She didn't deserve to have anyone think badly of her. Besides, he could feel the fire in his veins and going by that, he wasn't sure it would remain untrue much longer if she didn't leave.

"I think you should be headed back." He said. He saw the disappointment in her eyes and felt compelled to add, "It won't do for the other hands to think badly of you." He knew he was doing a lousy job of explaining, but was grateful when her expression cleared up.

"I'm sorry for keeping you. I know how early you need to be up." She said with a smile.

He moved from his spot between the sofa and the coffee table and picked up the pie tin that was now quite empty. Over the course of their conversation, they'd devoured an entire blueberry pie between them. He took it to the kitchen where he tossed it and by the time he returned, she was up and moving toward the door. She turned to him and before he could stop himself, he walked right into her. She was off balanced and before she would have fallen against the door, he caught hold of her shoulders and righted her. It was then when he noticed that she was staring at him and that remembered that he'd forgotten to take his hands away from her. It was the kind of moment, had it been a movie, that the audience would have been holding their breath waiting for the couple on screen to have their first kiss. He leaned in, the attempt there and the moment right, but at the last second before he would have been able to place his lips to hers she turned her face away from him.

"I think I should be heading back now."

Curtis sighed at the lost opportunity. He'd desperately wanted to kiss her, to feel if her lips were as soft as they looked and if they tasted of blueberries.

They walked to the door and he reached out to open it, and then paused.

"Did I upset you?"

Her eyes went wide and her face, characteristically, flushed crimson. He could tell that there was something she'd thought that she desperately didn't want him to know and the fact that he'd caught on to it had embarrassed her. He gave her a stern look.

"Come on, tell me. Do you really not want me to kiss you?"

She looked away from him. "You'll laugh at me, I know you will."

Now that was curious.

"Why would I laugh at you if there's something so wrong with me that you don't want me to kiss you?"

She looked so surprised by his words that the tightness in his chest immediately eased.

"There's nothing wrong with you," she looked away and then sighed. "It's silly really."

"I still want to hear it."

She cracked a smile, "I haven't brushed my teeth or anything."

He laughed so hard at that that he thought he was going to pass out. Of all the things in the world she could have said, what she did say had been the very last thing he thought she would say.

#  Chapter Five

During the walk back to the house, the tension between them was thick enough to slice with a knife. At one point, their arms brushed and they both hurriedly moved away. She felt the part that he'd touched tingling. She should probably have kissed him back at the cabin. But even though she told him it was because she had not brushed, she knew it was because the strength of her attraction scared her. She wasn't sure that they would have stopped at just a kiss, no matter how gentlemanly he wanted to be and she barely knew him. Her ma had raised her better than that.

Still, she shivered just from being so close to him. When she'd walked into his cabin and seen the honest to goodness gift of him without his shirt on, her mouth had become dry. She'd had to swallow hard to speak. She'd been grateful and disappointed when he'd covered himself up.

They got to the front house and she noticed that the front porch was well lit. They both stopped walking. With a deep sigh, she turned to him. He was staring at her with hunger written all over his face.

"Thank you..." her voice trailed away as he gently drew her close to him.

Very slowly, giving her enough time to pull back if she wanted to, he lowered his mouth to hers.

Marlene's eyelashes fluttered shut as she felt the onslaught on her emotions. Curtis lips on hers felt cool and hot at the same time. He lifted a hand to cup her face and she leaned into him. As she opened her mouth and he deepened the kiss, she felt a ball of heat unfurl in the pit of her belly. His tongue flitted against her tongue and for long moments they tangled until she was pressing against his chest with both hands in the effort to gain enough distance to gasp for breath. When he let her go, she took a big gulp of air and he chuckled seductively against her ear. The action sent a trail of goose bumps along her arm as she shivered with desire.

They stood there with his arms wrapped around her and she couldn't explain the contentment she felt. She felt warm and coddled, protected even. She wished that she could remain safely cocooned in Curtis' arms forever.

"Are you okay?" He asked in his soft drawl.

Unable to speak, she simply nodded. She didn't want the quiver in her voice to give her away and ruin the moment that they were sharing. Eventually, however, she bravely kissed his cheek and backed away. She turned to go inside, but his voice stopped her.

"Can I see you again tomorrow?"

She smiled to herself, and without turning back to face him she replied softly, "I'd like that."

***

The next morning came and found Curtis disheveled and distracted and whistling to himself. The happiness he felt wasn't precisely unexplained; the kiss that he'd shared with Marlene had been the most satisfying entangle that he'd ever experienced. It wasn't as if he'd never kissed a woman before, hell, he'd had his share of stolen kisses, but the fact that he'd had the absolute pleasure of kissing Marlene made all the difference in the world. If that was all he ever had the chance to do, he'd rest easy knowing that he'd done it well. Marlene had practically needed to hold on to him for fear of flying away. If he'd had the chance to notice, she'd probably had one foot kicked at a right angle like in a wind-swept romance movie.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Confused for a moment and irritated that he had to break the reenactment of the kiss he was definitely fond of remembering, he looked up from what he was doing to see Marlene's brother glaring at him. He didn't look particularly happy, but then again, he never looked particularly happy.

"Excuse me?"

Andrew was dressed in his work clothes, the cuffs of his jeans tucked in his boots to prevent horse muck from getting into his socks, and as Curtis got a good look at him, he realized the man had dark circles underneath his eyes from a lack of sleep. If he'd been a smarter man and not so wonderfully distracted by the continued remembered feel of Marlene's lips on his, he would have thought that the man's lack of sleep might have had something to do with the interaction he'd had with his sister. As it was, he didn't have to think about it because it was thrown in his face as if it were a tall glass of ice water.

"You know what I'm talking about. What the hell do you think you're doing with my sister? I saw you two last night in the yard. You were walking her back from your cabin, right? Did you sleep with her?"

For the first time since he'd met Andrew, he was truly angry with the man. He was not a guy whose first inclination was to fight, and yet, he had an incredible urge to throw a good punch to Andrew's superior-looking mug.

Instead, he replied calmly, "I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever it is that you think you know, I can tell you that you're wrong. I have been nothing but a gentleman to Marlene."

"Then why were your hands all over her?"

Curtis could hear the climbing anger in Andrew's voice and knew that the man was one step off from losing his control. The last thing he wanted was to hand the guy his rear and then have to explain to Marlene why her brother had to go to the hospital. If it came to a fight between him, he knew he could take Andrew any given day of the week and twice on Sundays. He tried to remain and hoping to deescalate the situation.

"We were talking with each other and I walked her home. I kissed her, that's all. If you want to know so much, why don't you talk to Marlene about it? I'm sure she will tell you the same thing that I've told you."

"You want to keep this job, right? Stay away from Marlene. If not, I'll throw you out so fast that your ass will bounce on the dirt. That and I'll make sure no one else in the state of Texas will hire you either."

"You seem to think I care."

Andrew's eyes narrowed to slits.

"Without a paycheck what do you have? You think my sister will move into your truck and live there with you? 'Cos that's all you have isn't it? All you can afford...living in your truck."

Curtis felt anger swell inside of him and then like a tide, it subsided. He felt the bitter taste at the back of his throat and the knowledge that once again, he was being judged. As awful as he felt, he couldn't deny that Andrew had a point. While he didn't really care about the job, it was unfair to put Marlene in a tight spot with her folks. He didn't want to do that to her. So he stepped down.

He could have argued or even pleaded with Andrew. He wanted to see Marlene and get to know her and possibly even develop something truly remarkable with her, but there was no sense in trying to get through the thick skull of an O'Connor. The Irish blood that ran through the man's veins made him incapable of seeing reason while he was angry—that much Curtis understood.

Andrew must have sensed Curtis' withdrawal because he nodded.

"I'm glad you see things my way." His tone became more reasonable. "Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against you, but Marlene is out of your league." His voice turned hard. "If I hear from the other hands that you even so much as look at her, I'll have your ass in a sling in no time at all."

"Maybe you need to direct that to your sister."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

Andrew's stance had changed, like he was badly looking for a fight. Curtis didn't mind. He felt sore enough to welcome whatever the other men felt he could dish. Still, he didn't think Marlene would appreciate a fight between him and her brother and he didn't want to make her choose.

He laughed bitterly then, as though there was even a doubt where her allegiance would be. She was an O'Connor and he...well, he was nobody.

He tipped his hat with his thumb.

"Well, if you're done issuing threats, _boss,_ I'd like to get back to work." He infused as much insolence as he could into his voice.

"Whatever you do, be sure to remember who gives you a paycheck and we'll both have a good day."

With that parting shot, he walked away.

Curtis walked off and spit at the dirt the man left in his wake. He felt like breaking something and briefly considered running his fist through a wall, but he caught a few of the other hands eyeing him and held back. Just when he thought that something good was finally happening in his life, it was snatched away from him. What chance was there for folk like him who were raised in an orphanage and had no family? None, that was what.

***

Marlene curled in her blanket and smiled into the plush comfort that it offered to her. She woke with the remembered feel of Curtis' hard body against her and she felt joy bubbling inside of her at the thought of repeating the adventure. It was then that the cloud carrying her into the lofty heights of the sky dissipated and she plummeted to the ground. She suddenly remembered that her holiday would soon be over and she would be returning to work. And then there'd be several counties separating Curtis from her. It had taken her nearly three years to make it back home to visit—meeting Curtis and allowing herself to get swept away by him only meant that she'd have to suffer the pain of waving goodbye to him when she left him. How was it fair to engage him in blissfully seductive kisses saturated in warmth when the very act of engaging him was an act of cruelty?

She closed her eyes and pressed her face into the recesses of her forgiving blanket. Curtis had to have known that she wouldn't be around forever. It was a shame that she had forgotten, but it wasn't as if she was playing around with him so that she could hurt him on purpose. She truly liked the man, and now that she'd had the chance to get to know him a little, she knew that she liked him beyond his appearance.

She decided as she hugged her blanket that she'd take whatever Curtis had to offer her and let the chips fall where they landed and call it even. She'd had the best time with him the day before and even a better time with him that evening, and for that she knew that she was hopelessly addicted to his presence. Already she couldn't wait to see him again and hear his voice as he ever so gently said her name; there wasn't a shred of control left to her that made her want to give it up. She figured that she could face what was to come at the end of the month when that time came.

Smiling again, she removed her face from the blanket and sat upright. She left her bed, showered and dressed and with renewed cheer, she found her way to the kitchen where Andrew had once again left hot coffee for her to savor.

She found a note reminding her that she'd need to go into town to do some shopping for the dinner he'd planned to have once her parents and three middle brothers returned from the rodeo that they'd gone to. He mentioned as a side note that her twin brother Michael had won a prize for his show horse Ace.

She smiled when she thought of her absent family. Her mother, father and grandmother would have hugs in abundance when they saw her, and she couldn't wait for their smiling faces. While she knew that the majority of her siblings no longer lived at home, once in a while they made it home to go to rodeos with their father and whoever else wanted to go. It happened but rarely and it was a dying tradition, but as long as she could remember, it had been important for the family to spend time with one another. After all, family was everything to the Irish culture.

Marlene downed a cup of coffee, rather, she gulped it as if she were a dying fish in need of water, and she grabbed a few slices of toast to ebb away the hunger in her belly. She realized that she was rushing through the morning routine, but the faster she made it through and reached a satisfied ending, the faster she'd be able to find Curtis and hang around with him until he pushed her away or told her to get lost. She doubted highly that he wouldn't want her to bug him all day, and if she had to, she'd even help him to do his work so that he could get done early and give all of his attention to her.

She thumbed her chin so that she could think on what to do with him that didn't involve the nonexistent electronics that he couldn't bother himself to own. She decided that she'd give taking the horses out for a ride another shot since she wasn't quite through with taking Ginger through her paces. Just because she'd been thrown didn't mean that she never wanted to get back in the saddle. It wasn't as if yesterday had been the first time she'd taken a fall.

Put together and freshly scrubbed and coupled with a full belly, she headed for the front door eager to face the day and discover what knew things with Curtis there were to find out about him. He represented everything that was good in life; excitement, passion and curiosity. As she stepped out onto the porch, she chided herself. She was getting carried away and too involved; if she was careful, and if it hadn't happened already, she knew that she was in danger of falling in love with Curtis.

She didn't have the chance to make a single step off of the porch. As soon as she made the move, Andrew came up in his truck and after he'd screeched it to a dusty halt, he got out of it and slammed the door so hard that it was a wonder that the glass hadn't shattered. She couldn't remember the last time that she'd seen him that angry.

#  Chapter Six

Curtis took his sweet time with his work through the morning and then into the afternoon. He debated the idea of heading into town for the stiffest drink of his life, but the more he thought about it, the more it appealed to him. At least, if he was in town and off the ranch, he wouldn't have to face Marlene and be forced to tell her that she couldn't be around him anymore. It wasn't a fair thing to do to her, and he knew that when it came time to do it, that he would cave and give his job to whoever wanted it as he flicked Andrew a rude gesture with both hands.

Since it was lunchtime and his stomach growled for the need for him to put food in it, he took the time out of work and sat down to eat the sandwich he'd prepared for himself. He was out by the fence line that reached for a few miles along the side that ran adjacent with the neighboring ranch and as soon as he took his first bite of his sandwich, he couldn't help but think of what he'd done to that same fence nearly ten years before. No doubt, the posts he'd lifted out of the ground and buried were still underneath the dirt where he'd left them.

In the ten years that had passed since then, since he'd been crazy enough to destroy someone else's property in the obsession to see a girl that didn't even know he was alive, he'd never once breathed a word to anybody about what he'd done. However, it didn't mean that he wasn't sorry.

When he'd left the Dupont Ranch, the land that ran alongside the Circle O, he'd wanted to earn the money he knew it had taken to repair the fence and give it back to Redmond O'Connor. He had been young enough and naïve enough to think that he could earn that much money on his own; when he'd asked one of the ranch hands that had worked for Circle O at the time what he thought the repairs to the fence had cost him, the price he'd given had been more than he'd imagined he could earn in a lifetime let alone in a summer working for pennies an hour.

Well, he'd more than earned it back, somehow. Doing the rodeo had helped a lot with that and he had just been waiting for the right time to give it back. He would hang around the Circle O for a while, long enough so he could keep seeing Marlene. Even if he couldn't be with her or speak to her, he could at least see her and maybe say hello. Once she was gone however, he would hand pay back what he owed and walk away for good. It was time for him to do something else anyway. For too long, his only dream had been Marlene. Obviously, he needed new dreams.

***

Marlene stood still as her brother stormed up to her.

"I never thought I'd see the day you'd stoop so low." His voice was cold and she felt a thin finger of ice creep up her spine. Andrew inherited much more than his hot temper from their dad, he also inherited their father's ability to intimidate anyone he was angry with. And it was obvious that Andrew was angry with her.

Determined not to be intimidated, she lifted her chin in false bravado.

"What have I done now? If you want to accuse me of something, go right ahead and state it."

"Curtis."

A single word, but it was said with such disgust that she frowned in confusion. What was it with Andrew? Why couldn't he let her have this vacation in peace without all the drama? That was something she had forgotten about her family; they thrived on drama.

"I have no idea what you're going on about," she said, "I haven't even seen Curtis today."

"And you damn well won't see him, today or any other day for that matter."

"Are you kidding me?" she asked. In the wake of the indignation that flooded her, she forgot about being intimidated. "Who died and made you God. Why do you think you can dictate to me who I see or don't see and what makes you think you even have the right?"

Her tirade was lost on him.

"He's not right for you, damn it!"

"I've only known the man a couple of days. Who's saying anything about being right for me? I'm just getting to know him for goodness sakes!" she flung her hands up in frustration.

Andrew moved closer to her, trying to brow beat her with his presence and snarled.

"Obviously the length of time you've known him hasn't kept you from whoring about for him."

Without conscious thought of what she was going to do, Marlene swung and heard the cracking sound as her palm came to contact with his face. They both froze.

Much later, when she thought about it, Marlene couldn't tell who was more shocked. She'd never hit anyone in her entire life, not even when they were much younger and always bickering. She covered her mouth with her hand and felt the fine tremble that went through her hand.

"Oh my God, Andrew I'm..." she waved her hand in distress, "I'm so sorry."

She couldn't believe she had actually hit him. Sure he'd provoked her, but that was no excuse to go losing it that way. He looked down and didn't say a word; and her distress mounted.

"Andrew...?" Her voice was hesitant.

He looked up then, his face unreadable and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Marlene," he said surprising her. "I had no call to speak to you like that."

She sighed also and felt tears prickling behind her lids.

"No, you didn't, particularly as I didn't sleep with him."

They were both silent for a minute.

"What made you think I slept with him, Andrew?"

"I saw you last night."

She was confused at first and then it dawned on her that he must have witnessed the kiss they'd shared. Her brows cleared but furrowed again almost immediately.

"How could you, Andrew?" her voice was filled with censure. "It was just a kiss. I was just getting to know the man, besides I wouldn't sleep with a complete stranger."

He sighed and moved towards the front porch. He sat on the steps and after a moment, she joined him. It was so reminiscent of their childhood - when they'd spent several hours there talking about whatever struck their fancy. She almost smiled, but couldn't quite bring her mouth to stretch. Her heart felt so heavy. Out of all her brothers, Andrew had been the closest to her; they'd been near inseparable at one time and she didn't know where they'd gone wrong.

Maybe I should never have stayed away so long.

"I spoke with Curtis this morning." He said at last.

"And...?"

She couldn't wait to hear just what Curtis had said that had sparked off such a rage in him.

"I asked him to stay away from you."

"You didn't... Andrew!" His name was a wail of distress.

"I don't want you to get hurt." He said unrepentant.

"I can't get hurt from just a kiss. Jeez! Look at you, you've been doing more than that since you hooked up with that Tallulah girl when you were in tenth grade and you're not hurt yet."

He flashed a look at her and she caught the humor in his eyes before it turned stormy once more. She knew then that there was more he wasn't telling her.

"Alright, out with it. What happened?" When he didn't say anything, she touched his arm gently, "Just tell me, I can take it."

"I overheard the ranch hands talking," he began reluctantly "They were saying stuff about how Curtis had managed to "bang" the Boss' sister."

Marlene let his words sink in. She understood how he would have become livid after hearing something like that; the O'Connor men were almost unreasonably protective of what they perceived as the honor of their women. It didn't stop with just their women though; they took family honor very seriously. Trying to walk in his boots, she attempted to imagine what her reaction would have been if she'd overheard something like that about Moira and knew she would want to kick ass. Still, she couldn't let Andrew get away with thinking he could dictate to her on who she spent her time with.

She stared at him intently until he turned to look at her. She maintained eye contact.

"I did not sleep with him." She said very carefully. He gazed at her and didn't say a word. "Do you believe me?

He held her gaze for a few more moments and then nodded slowly. "Yes."

Something eased within her.

"Good."

She sat back and was quiet, lost in her thoughts.

"If he comes near you I'm going to fire him."

And just like that the tranquility she'd felt a few moments before dissolved at his quietly spoken words. She sat up quickly and turned to him, the sure determination she saw in his eyes let her know that he was in one of his unreasonable states; he'd made up his mind to protect her and he was going to do so whether she wanted his damned protection or not.

"Is that what you said to him?"

He didn't need to reply, she saw her answer deep in his eyes and let out a string of curses that had him widening his eyes.

"I did it to keep you safe."

"I don't want you to keep me safe!" she got up and began to pace. "What is it with you? I'm an adult; I've lived on my own since I left for college. How do you think I survived without your wonderful protection all this while?" her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"You will stay away from him."

He had his arms folded across his chest and his face was implacable.

"No." She folded her arms across her chest, unconsciously mimicking his posture.

Marlene was equally as stubborn as Andrew, but there was no surprise there; they were both O'Connors after all.

"Think about it sis," he said gently, "This is the only job he has. If you don't stay away from him, I'll make sure no one hires him in the whole of Texas."

She stared at him in horror, her heart banging against her chest.

"You wouldn't do that."

"You know I would." His smile was filled with regret, but she could find no hint of letting up in his eyes.

"I can't believe this." She looked down and felt hot angry tears fill her eyes. She angrily dashed them away with the back of her hands. "You don't know what you're doing, Andrew. You think you know best, that you're always right, but just think about this for a moment. What if you are wrong? What if Curtis and I were meant to be together? Then the very thing you say you want to avoid, the hurt you're trying to protect me from would have been delivered by you."

She turned and ran up the steps, through the house and into her room. She turned the lock and threw herself on the bed. As the hot tears slid down her cheek and soaked her duvet, she wished she could speak with Curtis and tell him what was going on, but she knew it was hopeless. Andrew held all the aces. While she didn't mind braving his wrath, she would never willingly put another person in trouble, or threaten their livelihood, and Andrew knew that. Her hands were well and effectively tied and there was nothing she could do about it.

***

The weekend started early for Curtis. As soon as he was done with his duties, he headed for town and the nearest bar. He had one aim only; to get so roaring drunk that he forgot his own name. Maybe then he wouldn't think so hard about what he'd lost or how much he missed a woman he'd only known a couple of days. Of course, there was the fact that he couldn't lose what he didn't have and he'd never had Marlene; that's what his brain tried to tell him, but it was no use. He rubbed his chest, where he felt like he'd obtained a monster bruise and then went back to drowning his sorrows.

"Easy there, son, whatever it is couldn't be as bad as all that."

Lost in his glass, Curtis lifted an eyebrow and turned to the man sitting beside him. He looked to be in his thirties, a couple of years older than Curtis. All he could see was that the man had dark blonde hair, but he couldn't tell the color of his eyes. Yet there was something strangely familiar about him; like he should have known him somehow. Ah well, he probably would know him if he wasn't half way to drunk already. He just needed to keep at it and he would achieve oblivion eventually. He turned back to his drink, set it to his mouth and didn't bring it down again till he'd seen the bottom of the glass. Then he turned to the stranger, he'd brought out a cigarette and lit it.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." He mumbled.

The stranger dragged on his cigarette and let out a few smoke rings before he spoke again.

"Well, whatever it is will most likely still be there in the morning," he said with a careless shrug, "Along with a godawful hangover."

Curtis leveled a stare at the wannabe prophet of doom.

"Mind your own business."

"Trust me, I am."

He wondered what that meant, but didn't have the energy or inclination to pursue it and so let it drop. He turned back to his glass and beckoned to the waiter to refill it. What did the other man know? What did he know about feeling like there was a large hole in his heart, which not even alcohol could fill?

He wondered why he was so broken up about not being able to see Marlene anymore. He barely knew anything about her. All he knew was that she was gorgeous, so beautiful and yet very down to earth; not snobby at all. He knew she liked him or at least she used to, before her bloody brother got to her. She loved to laugh and to help people and she kissed like a dream. Boy, she kissed like a dream. He would cheerfully go to hell and back for another chance to kiss Marlene. Still, that was no reason to go to pieces, was it? It wasn't as though he loved the woman.

He was in the process of taking another swig from his glass when the thought struck him and he swore profusely.

"You should talk about it you know."

Curtis realized that the stranger was still sitting beside him by the bar. He looked at the man, but he was facing forward.

He swore again.

"I'm in love with her."

Saying it loud had such an effect on him. Just hearing the words made him realize that it was true, somehow, and he couldn't explain how, he had fallen in love with Marlene O'Connor.

"Hmmm..."

"But her brother's right. She's too good for me."

"He's probably right, but what does the little lady say?"

"Sweet..." he murmured. Suddenly he turned to the stranger, "Do I know you?"

"Maybe," he replied cryptically.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means maybe you know me and maybe you don't...I can't vouch for what goes on in your head."

Curtis stared at him for a moment and a memory tickled softly at the back of his mind like elusive fingers. He tried to reach for it, but it kept dancing out of his grasp. He shook his head and the memory disappeared, but he was suddenly sober.

"I should be on my way." Curtis stood up then.

The stranger nodded, "You'll tell me to mind my business, but take it from someone who's been there...if you love the woman and she feels the same way about you, don't let her go. You forget about what the whole world thinks and go with this." He formed a hand into a fist and touched it to his chest.

As Curtis stared at him, the man turned back to his drink. He turned to leave and then hesitated.

"Do you have a name?" He asked looking back at the stranger.

"Mind your own business." The man replied without facing him.

Curtis felt his lips twitch as he realized the man had thrown back his own words at him. He wanted to say something, but in the end he just shook his head and walked out of the bar. The warm air hit him and he breathed in hard, squinting against the sunlight. He wished he'd at least been drunk or even tipsy. But all he'd achieved from his drinking spree was a feeling of depression. With a sigh, he decided to head for the grocery store. Since he was in town, he might as well stock up on supplies and get the alcohol out of his system before heading back to Circle O.

#  Chapter Seven

Marlene was glad for the change of scenery and for the chance to get reacquainted in the town that she'd grown up in. Like everything else, it hadn't change much in the years that she'd been away, and she found the grocery store that she was looking for as easily as if she'd had a string attached to her that was pulling her in the right direction.

As she found herself walking through the aisles, she tried to remember all of the items on her list that Andrew had written down for her and of which she'd forgotten back at the house. She was never that good at remembering to grab the small things or to latch on to the finer details; it was better for her that she fly by the seat of her pants and hope that her rump didn't get road rash for the effort.

The cart she was pushing had the beginnings of a good cookout; hot dogs, hamburgers, steak and bratwurst made up the majority of the meat that she thought would do for the barbeque Andrew was planning, and it was a no-brainer to grab the condiments that went along with them. She snagged a few bags of French fries along with more than a good share of onion rings, and she was just about to consider what might make a good dessert when she felt a jar to her entire body as she slammed into a stationary object. The object happened to be a person; a man in fact.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!"

Marlene forgot the cart and the swag that she'd gathered and she scrambled to help the man she'd nearly broken to his feet. He looked stunned but not upset, and as he tried to straighten his clothing, she noticed that the pair of glasses that he'd been wearing was still on the ground.

She stooped easily to grab the glasses and handed them to the man. He wore them and smiled at her.

"I really am sorry. I must have been daydreaming."

"No, don't worry about it. It's not every day a beautiful woman comes along and knocks me off my feet. Literally." The man chuckled at his joke and extended his hand. "My name is Dr. James Davidson. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"My name is Marlene O'Connor, and likewise." She briefly shook his outstretched hand.

"O'Connor? You wouldn't happen to be the daughter or Redmond O'Connor, would you?"

Marlene nodded as the corners of her mouth quirked upward. No doubt everyone in town knew her father; he was the kind of man whose reputation preceded him.

"How do you know my father?"

James chuckled. "He's come by the hospital more than a few times. The man works hard and every now and then I see him in my emergency room with a good cut or bruise from not paying close attention to what he's been doing. I guess daydreaming runs in the family." He paused and cocked his head to one side. "Say, are you the daughter of his that he talks about, the one that's the nurse?"

"Yes, I am."

"You know, I could use your help around my hospital."

Marlene opened her mouth to object, fully prepared to tell him that she already had a job in the town where she lived, but the man was offering her his business card which he'd fished from his pocket.

"I'd like to come by the house sometime and talk with you about maybe coming to work at my hospital. I could make you a good offer as well. I'm in need of a good head nurse, and given how proud of you your father is, I think that position would more than suit you. Besides, no one can take charge better than an O'Connor."

Marlene smiled politely as she tucked the card that James had given her into the pocket of her purse.

"Why don't you come to the house tomorrow? We're having a barbeque for when my father and mother come back to town. I think he'd like to see you. If you want, we can talk about work then."

James nodded. "I'm going to look forward to meeting with you again, Marlene. And, I'd like you to think about my offer. Don't say no in a hurry okay?"

After a brief hesitation, she agreed to think about it. She missed her family, there was no doubt about it but the thought of coming to live here on a permanent basis had her blanching in horror. To live under the ever watchful gaze of Red O'Connor and his boys...

"Heaven help me," she muttered to herself.

Clarendon was too close to Circle O for comfort.

***

Why don't you come to the house tomorrow?

That was all Curtis had heard and had felt the roar in his brain. How could she do that? He didn't want to believe that Marlene was that sort of woman; the kind that got an ego trip from making men want her. He'd seen women like that in the brief time he'd been on the circuit and he could have sworn that she was nothing like that. But he knew what he'd seen and heard and try as he might, he couldn't keep the bitter taste of jealousy out of his mouth. He wanted to march over to where she was standing and rage at her for putting his life in a tailspin. He wanted to snatch the business card out of her hand and rip it to shreds. Instead he just stood there, shoulders slumped in defeat. What claim did he have over her anyway? So they'd shared a kiss and had talked a little; and yeah, he'd had the bad fortune to fall in love with her when she'd made no such commitment to him. So what? That wasn't grounds enough for demanding fidelity from her, was it?

The thought occurred to him that if he was like this, insane like this, in less than one week of being around her, then it might be better to just walk away and let her go now, while he still had a chance of regaining his sanity. Oh who was he kidding? It had taken him close to ten years to get over his first sight of her, what made him think it wouldn't take twice as long to get over kissing her? What was it about Marlene that got him all twisted up? Perhaps if he could answer that, he could find a way out of the dead end he'd walked into.

Ignoring the small voice in his head that told him that he should just walk in the opposite direction and forget that he'd seen her at all, and the larger voice that told him that he needed a job more than he needed to be in Marlene's company, he moved his feet forward and found her in the next aisle over. Thankfully, the man that she'd seemed so interested in had gone off to god knew where.

He came up behind her and before she could turn to catch a glimpse of him, he tapped her on the shoulder and boldly, he kissed her cheek. "Hello, beautiful."

The sudden slap to his face brought him up short. He stared at Marlene in shock; how could someone who looked so unassuming and willowy pack such a punch? He wondered. As soon as she saw him though, she went white.

"Oh my God, Curtis? Oh, oh no!"

She ran her hands over his head and brought them to rest on each side of his cheek. After examining his face for the imprint of her fingers, she turned contrite eyes to him. He saw the tears in them and felt his heart constrict.

"Aww Marlene, please don't cry."

He drew her close and held her to him.

"I'm so sorry, Curtis. I didn't mean to hit you. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"No, I'm sorry," he hushed her. "I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that. How were you to know I wasn't a stranger?"

"I should have checked. I don't know why I've been going around hitting people like this."

Her voice sounded so sorrowful that he drew her closer, not minding that they were standing right in the middle of the dry foods aisle in the grocery store. Then her words struck him and he drew back with a frown.

"Who else have you hit?" He asked.

"I hit Andrew the other day when he said some horrible things to me."

Curtis felt satisfaction come on the heels of the odd jealousy he'd felt, which he would examine for later.

"I'm sure he deserved it," he murmured.

"Oh yes, he did," she agreed with him.

They shared a look and they both began to chuckle. Marlene stepped out of his embrace and his arms fell to the side. He felt bereft suddenly; holding Marlene was almost as good as kissing her.

"I'm not supposed to see you again," she said sadly.

"Yeah, I gathered as much when you avoided me around the ranch."

Her eyes fell for a second and then she faced him squarely.

"I don't want you to get into trouble because of me."

"You should let me decide what is trouble and what isn't."

"Andrew said no one would hire you again."

"Is that right?" He asked quirking an eyebrow. If Andrew had been within punching distance, he would have punched the lights out of him. "You leave Andrew to me." He told her instead.

But Marlene was shaking her head, "It's not an idle threat, Curtis. Between him and my father they can make your life pretty miserable."

He knew she was right and there was a certain gratifying element in the fact that she was that worried about him. It made him feel several feet tall. Still, he was not afraid of the O'Connor family and he needed for her to know that.

"I can take care of myself."

"Is that why you've also been avoiding me?" She asked with a frown. "I thought...never mind," she said with a shrug.

He held her gaze. "What did you think?"

She sighed deeply, "I thought you'd had your fun with me and you were done."

He laughed at the irony. He didn't think he could ever be done with her. Drawing her close, he cupped her face with a hand and felt his heart race when she closed her eyes and nuzzled against his arm.

"Andrew said you're too good for me." Her eyes flew open then and he could see the rage in them, but when she would have spoken, he went on, "I agree with him completely. But I'd still like to have a chance with you."

Her eyes widened a fraction and he saw happiness flood their depths.

"I'll be returning to work in a few weeks," she cautioned.

"I know that. But we have now, and besides I might be headed to town myself."

"Really? What would you do in town?" she asked curiously.

He dropped his hand and shrugged, "I don't know exactly, but I've always fancied opening a training school for kids.

He watched as her eyes shone with excitement for him and his heart clenched. She really did like him; that much was clear. But did she like him enough to take a risk on him? He wasn't so sure about that.

"Wow, that's great! But that could be capital intensive, right?" She asked hesitantly.

Curtis smiled; she was actually worried about him, how cute.

"If by that you mean it's gonna cost some good cash then I suppose you're right." He shrugged lightly. "It's a dream though and miracles do happen."

He had to believe that. A miracle had brought him back to Circle O just before Marlene had come back on holiday. And that he could wrap his arms around her and exchange those soul moving kisses with her...that was definitely a miracle.

She was nodding her head vigorously. "I like the sound of a miracle." She reached out and threaded her fingers through his. Her smile was almost shy, "So are we dating now?"

He drew in a sharp breath.

"Do you want to?" He asked gazing deep into her eyes, hoping that he wasn't badly misreading the signals he was getting. "Would you like to, uh, date?"

He felt as gauche as a high school kid and it bugged him. Truth was, he was never this nervous about asking a girl out in high school. He figured it was because there was so much riding on this. He waited for her to speak, wanting so badly for her to say yes.

"Yes."

One word and he felt joy explode in his innermost being. He wanted to haul her into his arms and plant a huge one on her shiny lips, but he just stood there and grinned instead. He was dating Marlene O'Connor...wonders would never cease.

***

They went through the aisles of the grocery shop doing their shopping together. When he would have just stacked up on a few tins and a six pack of beer, Marlene silently put in some fruits and juice.

"Hey, what am I going to do with those?" He protested.

She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips before replying, "Gee, I don't know. Eat them maybe?"

He smiled at her sarcasm, but shook his head firmly. "I don't need those." He took out the fruits and returned the juice to their shelf on the aisle.

"Don't worry I'll pay for them."

He frowned, he could pay for his own damned food and he told her just as much. "I'm just not into all this stuff. Give me a good steak any day."

A stubborn glint entered her eyes and she folded her arms on her chest. He recognized that stance from her brother; it struck him then that she was an O'Connor through and through.

"Unless you're trying to say you don't want me visiting your cabin, you might want to make sure there are fruits for when I'm around."

Without another word, he silently put back the juice into his shopping cart and dumped even more fruits than had been in there before when she'd picked them. He threw in some carrots and eggplants for good measure. When he was sure he had enough to feed an army of goats, he turned to look at her. She was staring at his cart in shock. She looked up at him and then burst into heartfelt laughter.

Watching her, standing there and overflowing with mirth, Curtis knew it was a moment he would never forget for as long as he lived.

The rest of the shopping expedition passed in a blur after that and long after he was back in his cabin, he was still in a state of euphoria thanks to Marlene's good bye kiss. She'd been hesitant about kissing him after he'd walked her to the car park. It was still daylight and there were bound to be ranch hands from Circle O in town.

"I don't want to get you in trouble," she'd said with a worried frown. "I know you need the job."

He did need the job, but not in the way she thought. He didn't want to get fired before he had time to get to know her properly. But he wasn't about to let the prospect of being fired keep him from spending time with her. So he'd shrugged and kept his eyes on her.

"I can take care of myself sweetheart. But I need that kiss to tide me over."

She'd smiled mischievously and stepped closer to where he was standing. "Since you're so persuasive, what can I do?" she murmured, "Wouldn't want to deprive you or anything."

"You sure don't want to do that." He agreed with her.

His arms had snaked around her waist and hers had slid up to entwine around him. He'd lowered his mouth to hers and just as his lips touched hers, her eyelids had fluttered shut.

He sighed now as he took a sip from the juice he'd bought for her. He grimaced at the sweetness of it and then absentmindedly took another sip.

He missed her.

He could just imagine spending evenings like this one, cuddled on the sofa with Marlene in his arms while they talked about anything and everything. A man could live for that.

***

The house was quiet when she got back, and somehow it was worse than the noise she was hoping to find. Just as she got all of the groceries put away, a call rang through on the land line.

"Hello?"

"Is that you, Marlene? You sound wonderful, dear heart."

She smiled. Her mother's voice, no matter if it was angry or happy or disappointed, had the capacity to cheer her up.

"Hey Mom, it's great to hear your voice. Are you and dad close to town?"

"We're just an hour out. Your father was getting anxious with you home and with us not being there, so we decided to get back a day early. Are you and Andrew getting along there without us?"

"Same old Andrew, Mom. Still as aggravating as always, but I've missed him. He has been busy working though. In fact, I don't think he's stopped but to sleep since I've been here."

"Men are all like that, sweetheart. You'll see. You think that they'll have time for you and then before you know it, you never see them. Andrew took right after his Daddy."

"I know, mom." She looked at the clock in the living room and then said, "Let me go so I can get something on the table for you all when you get here. I have a message for dad when he gets home."

After her mother said goodbye to her, she hung up the phone and mentally rolled up the sleeves of her shirt. She wasn't the best cook in the world, but no one was going to die from her cooking either. Besides, she needed something to keep her busy.

She was still feeling slightly giddy from her time with Curtis in the grocery shop. She hadn't come out to Circle O looking to be in a relationship. She rolled her eyes lightly at the thought; who in their right minds would think of a relationship under the ever watchful eyes of her brothers? But she'd found Curtis and she was excited about dating him. A slight frown marred her face as she got to work preparing a meal. She was going to have this out with Andrew; she wasn't going to let him put a damper on things. This was serious business.

#  Chapter Eight

If he'd thought their agreeing to date was the beginning of the love affair of the century, Curtis had another thing coming. Instead of the two days he thought that he'd spend pining after her, it had been close to two and a half weeks that he'd not seen hide nor hair of her save for brief moments she'd been able to spare him as she'd seen him around the ranch. It was rapidly becoming obvious to him that he'd underestimated the power of the men in the O'Conner clan.

At first Curtis and Marlene had contented themselves with a few stolen kisses and anguished looks here and there, but that had finally dwindled away until he began to wonder if she had become tired of him. The few times he'd seen her, she'd been almost cold towards him. The entire thing was beginning to drive him crazy.

He had half a mind to ride in there on Sam, carry off the woman and ride into the sunset. He snorted at his romantic fancies, even though they were only part fancy. He had a sneaking suspicion that if she'd given him the slightest sign that she'd welcome that sort of action, he probably would have risked the wrath of the O'Connors and gone through with it.

Just then, there was a knock at his door causing his eyebrows to knit together. He never had visitors. Well, the only other time he'd had someone stop by had been Marlene and she wasn't giving him the time of day any longer so it obviously couldn't be her. Still, no matter who it was, he figured that person would be better company than his tortured thoughts. He stood up to open the door, but before he could get there, it was flung open and he found that he was in an enclosed space with the person that had caused enough stress to his life to zap the black hair covering his skull and turn it white.

He stood eyeing her for a moment. He told himself he wasn't sure if he was glad to see her, but his rapidly racing pulse called him a liar.

He kept his face empty of emotion. "What are you doing here?"

***

Marlene felt hurt fill her as she stood before Curtis. Gone was the ready smile and the look in his eyes that had told her she was beautiful. In their place was a hard unsmiling face. She understood why he was acting that way though and so she fought her instinct to turn and flee and stood there instead.

"Hi Curtis," she said softly.

"What are you doing here?" He repeated his question.

She tried to catch his gaze, but he steadfastly refused to meet her eyes. She sighed.

"If this is a bad time, I could come back later."

She turned to leave, but felt his hand on her arm. She paused and looked back at him.

"Stay."

It wasn't the most gracious invitation she'd received, but she turned back without a word and entered his cabin.

"Thank you."

"Would you like some juice?" He walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of orange juice.

Marlene stared at him in surprise. Had he kept the juice all this while? "Er, would it not have gone bad or something?" She felt the need to ask.

He shot her a look and went to search for a glass. He picked one from the cupboard next to the fridge and poured her a glass of juice.

"I stocked up again," he said handing her the glass. "This is just a couple of days old."

She nodded, took a sip and set the glass down.

"I missed you," she said softly.

"That wasn't the impression I got."

She nodded again. "They made it practically impossible for me to see you," she began. "Dad ordered me to never see you again. But that wouldn't have stopped me. However, they kept me so busy, I barely had time to eat."

"You could have told me," he muttered.

She shrugged, "It would not have made a difference."

"You acted as though you didn't even see me whenever our paths crossed." He said this with a frown.

"I'm sorry about that." She looked contrite. "I just thought that as long as they believed I was no longer interested in you, they'd stop fighting me and quit piling me with so much work."

She saw his eyes flare with understanding. "And did it work?" He asked with a slight smile.

Her answering smile was huge. "I'm here am I not?"

"Technically, yeah, but you're too far away."

She felt her heart sing as she moved over to where he was seated on the arm chair and sat on his lap. His arms came around her waist and she rested her head on top his.

"I missed you so much," she said, her pulse racing as she felt at peace for the first time in two weeks.

"I missed you too, baby." He murmured, "The last two weeks have felt like an eternity."

They were both silent, basking in each other's presence. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence even though another kind of tension was growing between them.

"How long are you here for?" He asked.

She drew back and smiled. Then leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his lips.

"How about till morning?" She whispered.

His manhood sprung to life then and he stood up, clutching her in his arms effortlessly.

"Sounds good to me," he replied with a slow smile before making his way to the bedroom.

***

He woke, rested and energized, in his bed with a warm body nestled to him. the feeling was foreign and familiar at the same time. He smiled as he remembered how Marlene came to be resting next to him, and he relished the vision of her lying so carelessly in the grip of sleep. She had relinquished herself to him and no matter if she'd found someone else, she was with him here and now and it didn't matter to him. All the while he fought with his jealously and the other random petty emotions that circled him like flying buzzards, he'd known deep in his soul that if she wanted him that she'd eventually come find him. It would take an act of God to pry her apart from him now.

With a fingertip, he gently traced a line from the top of her exposed left arm and over her shoulder to then stop on her shoulder blade. He then traced a faint circle on the exposed and delicate bone, knowing that if she were awake now, that she'd be smiling ever so softly at him. He could literally feel his heart filling at the image, and it was damn near full to bursting as it was.

He whispered, "I love you," as he now bent close to her ear so that the movement of his exhaled breath was enough to flutter the small hairs around her neck. She stirred but didn't wake and for a long moment he wrestled with the fact that his confession had fallen on deaf ears. He wanted and yet didn't want for her to know how he felt about her.

He'd loved her as a boy, or more accurately, he'd loved what he'd seen of her. But that was nothing compared to the depth and intensity of what he felt for her now. With Marlene beside him, he was a great man. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but there were so many obstacles on the way. No matter, nothing good came easy they said. In his case, nothing had ever come easy to him so he was prepared to work hard for this woman. Thank heavens he had no problem with hard work. He stared at her sleeping form and knew that he would never do anything to betray the love of this woman. Oh, she had not said she loved him yet, not in so many words at any rate. But her mere presence in his bed, and the fact that she'd come looking for him had told him all he needed to know. And if he still wasn't sure, all he need do was look into her eyes and see the love for him shining through.

He withdrew from her and eased himself out of the bed. As quietly as possible, he clothed himself and then moved to his dresser to open the drawer that had held his secret for so many years. Inside of the drawer there was a box, and within this box was where he'd saved all of his money for every year of the last decade. What he'd made from the rodeo was not part of it and he was glad to see that he had enough to atone for his guild without touching that. He'd carried the guilt long enough, and felt huge relief sweep through him at the thought that he was finally going to be rid of it. That secret had weighed upon his neck like a millstone and even now, colored his relationship with Marlene. He went through each day scared that she'd find out he'd ruined her summer several years ago and right then, there was no room for that sort of fear anymore. He knew she'd forgive him if she heard, but he didn't want to seem like less of a man in her eyes. It was time to make things right.

He got ready, hastily scribbled a note for Marlene informing her he'd be at the ranch, and picked up the box. Once he paid for his crime, he would be totally free to love Marlene. It didn't mean her family would give approval and he was loath to part her from her family; but if it came to that, and she chose to go with him, he wouldn't think twice.

The thought of going to face Red O'Connor, Marlene's dad made Curtis nervous. But nerves or not, he was going to do what he had to do. He loved Marlene and he meant to have her and he wasn't going to let a few fence posts stand in his way. But even if she decided in the cold light of day that she didn't want him anymore, at the very least, he would be free of the guilt that had plagued him for close to a decade.

At the thought that Marlene might not want him anymore, he felt his heart squeeze and he faltered in his steps. Then he tightened his resolve and kept moving towards the main house.

***

"Sir, I don't think you know me very well, and I suppose that you wouldn't know me from the next ranch hand that works for you, but my name is Curtis Copeland and I'm in love with your daughter."

Curtis inhaled as he stood in front of Red O'Connor and he felt that what had come out of his mouth had sounded ridiculously rehearsed and full of insincerity. He wanted to spill his guts, grovel and then beg for his mercy, but as a man, he wasn't capable of destroying that much of his pride. At the moment, it was taking everything he had to stand still and take the glare that was studying him from underneath a Stetson.

"Son, do you have any idea how early in the morning it is and how very little patience I have? I don't think you want to be bothering me with this so very early. Hell, the sun ain't even up yet and I haven't had a cup of coffee. You want me to sprout out grey hair?"

Curtis shook his head. He said, "No Sir, but I came here to tell you something important and I would like it very much if you'd just hear me out. I know that it's early in the morning, but it can't wait. If I don't tell you now, I may never tell you and then your daughter Sir will never be able to trust me again. Okay?"

Red O'Connor, the big man on the ranch, nodded his head and Curtis had to let out a sigh of nervous relief. He could be relieved in the fact that he was going to be able to tell him what he had to get off of his chest to tell, but the adventure was far from over.

He began, "About ten years ago, you were having some trouble with your fence. That summer, I believe you must have replaced something like fifty posts because someone had come along and stolen them."

"Well that ain't news to any of us here, boy. I don't know if you realize this or not, but I am a very busy man."

Curtis cleared his throat. "I realize that, Sir, but I'm not here to remind you of what happened, I'm here to confess that I am the person that stole all the posts."

Finally, he had the man's attention. He dropped the pen that he'd been using to tally the record books and the big man narrowed his eyes until they came to within an inch of becoming slits. Before he had the chance to blow like Mt. Vesuvius, he moved forward and set his box in front of him.

"Sir, it's a long story as to why I did what I did. And the only thing I think that you'd want to hear is the fact that I'm very sorry I didn't come forward sooner. I can't say that I wish that I wasn't stupid enough to break your fence and steal the posts, but I can say that I wish I had thought of a better way to meet your daughter." He gestured to the box in front of him. "That right there should be enough to take care of the money that I owe you for what I put you all through that summer."

Red O'Connor, a man so larger than life that it took meeting the man to believe that a person with so much personality could actually exist, pulled the box that Curtis had so carefully and even lovingly at times put money into over the years and once he had it in his grasp he lifted it and then carried it the short distance to the garbage can where he dramatically dropped in inside.

"You think that all I care about is the money, boy? Hard work and family are the only things in this world that matter. I doubt you understand the meaning of either, so few of you nowadays understand the concept of hard work. You listen to me when I tell you that if what you mean about my daughter is true then you have some long hard work ahead of you and you won't be able to get me on your side by trying to pay for your mistakes the easy way.

"Every day of that summer my daughter and son put their blood and sweat into the repair of that fence, so much so that there was nothing else to them outside of working on that fence. They had other things I'm sure that they'd rather have done that summer, and there were other uses for my time and money that I'd have rather directed myself toward, but what happened was something that occurred for a reason."

Curtis had his arms folded to his chest as he eyed Red O'Connor. He couldn't figure out if the man was being obtuse on purpose or if he really had no point to what he was saying to him. It was clear that he couldn't give the man the money that he owed him, and even though there was nothing more tempting than the desire to pick the money up out of the garbage can and run with it, he considered it a loss and knew that even if he'd given all he had to Red he would still have rejected it. If all he had wasn't enough, then he didn't know what would be enough. He'd given his time, paid his dues quite literally, and now all he wanted was to return to the bed that he shared with Marlene and try to be the best man that he could be. Being a good man had been the only thing that he'd ever wanted. That, and Marlene; and if he could be a good man to Marlene, he would have all he wanted.

He was halfway to the door, his hand poised to the handle when Red cleared his throat and he was forced to turn around.

"That took a lot to walk away from all that money didn't it boy? You felt the pain of its loss and the loss of the hard work that it took to make it. Leaving it in the trash felt to you as if all the years that you went through to make up enough money to pay me back were worth nothing and that you shouldn't have put in the effort in the first place to try and make it up to me. You know now what it was like for me to have to give up on what took me a long time to earn because the effort I put into earning it didn't amount to much against the mind of a love struck fifteen year old."

Curtis took a deep, deep breath and let it out in a sigh. The O'Connor's would be the death of him, he'd long decided, and it seemed he was right on the money.

The man grinned and it looked as if the smile was literally cracking his face. "Did I forget to mention that I knew what you were up to all along? I should have told someone about what I knew, but then I had such high hopes that a certain young man would have come to me and confessed to me what he'd been doing with my fence.

"Maybe I shouldn't have let you carry that around with you for ten years, but then nothing happened to you that wasn't your own choice, young man. If you'd had the guts to come to me before, then you wouldn't have had to suffer so long."

Red's face grew serious as he eyed him up and down as if inspecting a bit of horseflesh that had come along for him to buy. He said, "As for how you feel about my daughter—it took a lot of guts to come here and face me knowing that I have a good idea what spurred on this sudden spouting off of love and all that mess.

"It's just as well that I've seen how she's been these last couple of weeks—she was bound and determined to undermine her brothers and get past them in order to sneak off to see you even though I'd commanded her myself to stay away from you. Face it, boy, you're not the best specimen of male fortitude on the planet and there's not a thing you could provide for my daughter that I couldn't give her myself."

"Begging your pardon sir," Curtis had no idea where the courage came from. "You may have given her life sir, but you can't love her as much as I do."

Both men stood there for a brief moment, staring at the other. Red with his mouth pursed with an expression that reminded Curtis of Marlene and Curtis, standing ramrod straight, refusing to be intimidated even if the man made him nervous. He'd done the honorable thing and as much as he would love to have Red's blessings, the man needed to realize that Curtis didn't _need_ those blessings.

"Fine, so you love her do you?" The man's eyes were calculating.

"Yes I do."

"You're going to have to prove it. I can't stop you from seeing her, but the fence is another matter altogether and I'm going to take out in trade." He leaned back in satisfaction, making Curtis become wary. "For every one post I find buried in the dirt, I'm going to remove and cover from the fence now and then I'm going to have you put it back together with your bare hands by yourself. You're a strapping guy full of muscle, so I know you won't have such a terrible time with it. Until then, I won't give you the permission I know you're after.

I don't need your permission.

Curtis curbed his wayward thoughts, but something must have come through because Red smiled wryly.

"You may not need my permission, but my daughter would be heartbroken without it. Now if you love her as you say you do, then you'll do your best to avoid just that."

Curtis felt his shoulders slump in defeat. The old coot had him there and he knew it. There was no way he would put Marlene in a position where she had to choose between him and her family, not if she could help it. So he squared his shoulder and looked Red in the eye.

"Yes sir."

***

Marlene had just about made it to her father's study when she overhead her father talking to Curtis. She could tell it was Curtis from the deep rumble of his voice and the tinge of heat that was rimmed the edges of his words. It was likely that it the temperature of his tone was something only she could hear. She caught herself in a giggle and she had to clamp it down before she could even hear what her father and lover were talking about with each other. She wanted to barge in on them and poke her nose in on what they seemed to be so deeply involved in discussing, but she figured that she'd be better prepared for the fallout if she stuck her ear to the door and listened for a while. She wondered if what they were talking about was a good or bad thing, and if it had anything to do with her. She supposed that it had to have something to do with her since Curtis hadn't had anything to do with talking to her father in the weeks that he'd been home; she doubted highly that it was related to working on the ranch.

"I'll allow you to date my daughter and I'll give my blessing to you if you prove to me how much you want to be with her. I don't care that you claim to love her—love is about the hard work involved that you put into a relationship to make it stand the test of time. If you're serious, if you want to be with her, then you'll do as I asked."

"You're talking about months of work. It will take me at least a week to dig out all of those posts."

"If she's worth it to you, then you won't mind the work, will you? She's my daughter, one of only two of them, and I won't have some rough-edged cowboy steal her from me if he's not at least willing to prove how much he loves her to me."

Marlene's eyes widened. Did her father just say out loud that Curtis loved her? Was this what it was all about? She lifted a hand to barge in there as she'd originally had the thought to do, but before she could, her eldest brother had better ideas and pushed her out of the way.

The door was standing open as Marlene watched Andrew fume first at Curtis for having the stones to be in their father's study and then at their father for allowing such a meeting to take place.

"Whatever it is that you're considering, Dad, I suggest you think better of it. This man shouldn't be allowed to come within ten feet of Marlene. She deserves better than—"

"Andrew..."

There was a warning in Red's voice and it was one Marlene recognized. Andrew chose to ignore it and went on speaking.

"He doesn't deserve her." Was all he said, proving Marlene's earlier supposition wrong. He'd obviously heard the warning.

"My mind is made up." Red said shortly.

Andrew locked gazes with his father and no one spoke for a few seconds. Finally the younger man stepped back with a nod.

"Fine." He turned to Curtis, "You'd better make sure you dig up every single one of those posts. And if I hear even so much as a whisper that you hurt my sister, this whole country won't be big enough to hide your sorry ass."

"Noted," Curtis said.

She must have made a sound because Curtis suddenly turned and caught her gaze. What she saw reflected in the depths of his eyes, almost brought her to her knees. There was tenderness and shared moments; and the promise of tomorrow. But most importantly there was love. Her heart began to bang against her ribcage even as she felt herself start a slow melt. In that instant, she knew that she was absolutely crazy about him and would follow him to the ends of the earth. The realization humbled her and brought tears to her eyes.

Curtis turned to her father, his chin lifted. He had unfolded his strong arms from his chest and his voice rang with resolve.

"Sir, I want to do whatever it is that I have to do to prove myself to you and Marlene. I want to be a better man and I want to have Marlene at my side. Once I'm done with the fence posts, I'll be heading for the city because that's where she'll be. I would like to leave with your blessing."

His voice indicated that he would leave with or without the old man's blessing and the message came across clearly to all.

Marlene moved from where she'd stood rooted to the spot in the frame of the door of her father's study and she went to Curtis and wrapped her willowy arms around his hard frame. She was instantly enclosed in his warmth and she didn't realize that she was crying until he pulled her back away from him and wiped her tears away.

"What are you crying for?"

Marlene swallowed and looked to her father and then to her brother before she answered him. She said finally, "I'm crying because I'm happy. I never thought you'd say something like that."

"You don't believe I love you? You know that I do, right?"

Marlene nodded. "I think I love you too."

They were oblivious to their surrounding as they had eyes only for each other. Everything faded away as each focused on the other. She wasn't sure who moved first, but suddenly they were leaning forward to share a kiss when someone cleared his throat, making her jump.

Marlene suddenly remembered that her father was standing right there, and her face flooded with color. She turned her face from Curtis and directed her gaze at her father. "Doesn't what I want have any meaning? Couldn't I just want him to be with me and that be the end of it?"

Red O'Connor shook his head. "This is something Curtis here knows that he has to do."

She turned to look at her brother. She was glad that her other brothers had decided to finally leave the ranch, since if the little office had been crowded with all of her immediate male family, she would have gone insane over all of the conceived protection that they thought that they were giving her. She hugged Curtis tightly to her as she turned to Andrew

"Curtis makes me happy, I love him. I can't imagine being without him and..." her voice broke and she inhaled deeply and then slowly released the air as she tried to get control of herself. She tried again. "Don't you want me to be happy? Can't you even try and be happy for me about this? Is it that hard?" She was pleading now, but she didn't care. This was much too important.

Andrew inhaled, his fists unclenching and clenching at his side. For a while, the knuckles of his hands had gone so white that they appeared as if the bones had been poking through. He had a temper to him, that much was understood, but as he stared at her, Marlene knew that her brother finally understood that she'd chosen Curtis and she wasn't going back on her decision.

"You do one thing to make her upset or if you break her heart, I'll make sure you suffer like no other human being has ever suffered."

Curtis, to her surprise didn't say a thing to her brother. She could hear the soft rumble of his chuckle through his chest, but that was the extent of it. She knew that somewhere along the line that Andrew and Curtis would end up being friends with each other. She turned back to her father.

"So is it okay then? We can be together?"

Her father shook his head. "I made a deal with the man. If he does what I asked him to do, then I will allow him to see you for however long he wants to see you. Until then, not a moment sooner. If you break the deal, I'll never give my blessing if you two decide to get married."

Marlene gave a baleful look at her father. Since she'd been little, she'd wanted a wedding that matched no other little girl's imagination of what a wedding should look like. It had to be the perfect affair—everything had to be included, even a Prince to sweep her off her feet. The one thing that she knew she didn't want to do without at her wedding was to have her father walk her down the aisle. He knew how badly she wanted him to give her away.

"Don't worry, Marlene. I'm fine with this."

She looked at him searchingly, "Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent sure."

She nodded and she fished out a card from her pocket. She let herself loose from Curtis' grip on her waist and she set the card on top of her father's desk. "Remember the good doctor I invited to the barbeque we had? Well, that man offered me a job working at the General hospital in town." She looked over her shoulder at Curtis.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you who that man was. I saw you looking at him when he left the other day. I had him here so that I could arrange for the hospital that I've been working at to transfer my work history to Dr. James and so that they could arrange for my replacement."

He stared at her, "What does that mean?"

"It means I won't be going back to the city until we can both go together."

Curtis eyes widened with such joy that she wanted to start crying again. She called herself to order.

"Not until you have a wedding ring on your finger though," Red interjected, "No going back anywhere together till then."

Marlene looked to her father. "I'm not planning to stay here, just so you know."

"Where will you stay then?"

"I'll be renting an apartment in town."

#  Chapter Nine

"Hey Curtis, flex those abs and quit making us wait, man."

There were chuckles and a giggle.

"What's he waiting for?"

"Let him be, Red. He's waited all these months. I guess he needs to savor the moment."

"Savor hell. It's getting damn hot out here."

"Red, your language, the kids..."

There was general laughter at that admonition and Curtis smiled to himself.

The past six months had been a learning curve for him. It seemed he'd dug his way out of the doghouse and into the affections of Marlene's family, literally and figuratively. He stared at the ground where the last fence post was buried and let out a deep breath. Elaine O'Connor was right, he was savoring the moment.

He placed his hand on his waist and stared up. It was funny that his biggest fan in the O'Connor family was Marlene's grandmother, Elaine. Before now she'd been a distant shadow, someone he only caught glimpses of every now and then. But as he'd gotten closer to the O'Connor's he'd begun to see that she and Marlene's mom were the glue that held the family together; kind of how Marlene was going to hold their family together.

He half turned to stare at the man who had asked him to flex his abs.

"Hey Andrew, think you can help me out with this one?"

"Uh-uh," Andrew shook his head, "That is your burden to bear. So man up and dig."

The other O'Connor men grunted in agreement.

Curtis shook his head and snorted; it figured that they were still leaving their dirty work for him to do. Although if he were honest, this was _his_ dirty work. He caught a flash of pink from the corner of his eye and angled his head. From the distance, he could see Marlene and Ginger and they were trotting to where the rest of the family was gathered. She hadn't been sure she was going to make it for the last dig. They'd had a surgery at the hospital and she wasn't sure how long it was going to take. He'd known she would make it, however; had counted on her making it.

He slipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans and fingered the ring in his pocket, all the while never taking his eyes off Marlene. She brought the horse to a stop and he walked the short distance to where she was and lifted her off the saddle. Even before her feet touched the ground she had her arms around his neck. The feel of her body pressed up against him made his breath hitch. Her eyes smiled up at him and his heart squeezed. They had come a long way and they had a long way yet to go. He still could not believe that she loved him; it blew his mind to think about it. Yet there she was, smiling up at him, her love shining from her eyes. Completely ignoring her family behind them and the mock growl from her brother, he lowered his head and captured her mouth with his. The kiss was sweet and filled with passion and all too brief. He drew back and smiled at her.

"I love you," he said in a low voice so she was the only one who heard him.

"I know," she said. "I love you too."

"I know," he smiled and traced her lips with his thumb. "Thanks for coming."

"You knew I wasn't going to miss this."

He did. She was one of the strongest and most determined women he knew. That they were where they were at that moment was largely due to her unwavering belief in him. He slipped his fingers between hers and drew her forward.

"Get your hands off my sister and dig, you pervert."

"Stop being such a grouch Andrew and go find yourself a woman." Marlene retorted without looking at her brother.

There was general good humored laughter at the gibe and he heard Marlene's sister, Moira, giggling again.

They got to the spot where he'd been standing before Marlene appeared on Ginger and they stared at each other. With a tight squeeze, she let go of his hand. The little crowd around them became silent. With a deep sigh, he picked up the pole diggers he'd been holding before his spectators arrived. He'd dug all the other poles out and had carted them off so he could fix the new ones, but Red had asked him to leave the last one and they'd all come out to watch him extract it from the earth. He'd already dug extensively and he needed just a little more effort before he could pull out the fence post, buried all those years ago. He turned and winked at Marlene and then began to dig.

A few minutes later, the fence post was out. Everyone was silent as he picked up a new fence post and walked over to the fence. Quietly, he mended the broken part, deftly working until he was done. As soon as he finished the last part and turned, Marlene's family broke into a round of applause.

"Go Curtis...Yay!" Moira jumped up and down, clapping vigorously.

"Good one son," Red came over and clapped him on the back.

Marlene's mom came over and hugged him tightly and then kissed him on the cheek. "Make her happy," she said in a serious voice.

Curtis just nodded. He couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. The nod must have been enough for her however, because she nodded, kissed him again and smiled before moving aside.

He watched with amusement as Andrew pulled out a few notes and handed them over to Grandma Elaine and then came to shake his hand, slapping him on the back with his free hand.

"Good one, doesn't mean I won't be keeping my eyes on you."

So they had been betting on him had they? He'd suspected as much and the proof of it only made him shake his head and smile wryly. The O'Connor's were a lot to take in, but they were not a bad bunch; real salt of the earth. He leveled a gaze at Marlene's brother.

"I'll be counting on it." Curtis said.

Andrew shook his head and moved off to speak with his father.

Soon Curtis was standing in front of Marlene. She looked so pretty in a pair of faded jeans and a pink tank top. She'd worn her boots over her jeans and her hair was held in a ponytail. Over ten years ago, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen and now, more than a decade later, she was the most beautiful woman he knew.

She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. He couldn't believe what he'd done to earn her love, as a matter of fact he knew there wasn't a thing he could have done to earn it. He took a deep breath and always attuned to him, she looked up.

"Are you okay?"

"Just fine, baby, I'm just fine." He assured her.

But her frown didn't disappear. She drew back a little and pursed her lips as she gave him a piercing stare.

"What is it?"

He looked back at the fence posts he'd put up, almost half a mile long and marveled that he'd done it all alone; without any help from a single person. If he was honest with himself, he would have hated the idea of anyone helping him to earn the respect of a family that by all rights deserved to see that kind of show out of him. There wasn't a moment in all of his work that he'd taken a moment to complain about his lot in life or the path that he'd chosen to take. He knew that he loved Marlene. He knew it and he would make damn sure that everyone watching him break his back knew it as well. The sweat that had poured from him, the blood that had seeped from the cuts in his skin and the bruises that he'd carried were all for Marlene's sake and for the sake of the relationship that he wanted to have with her.

Each day and every day since his conversation with Red O'Connor in his study, since he'd fought for the chance to have the love of his life and her father's blessing on their relationship, he'd come out to the fence. At first, he'd pulled up all of the old poles, which over the course of ten years had weather rotted to the point that they were barely recognizable as once having been wood, and then after he'd gotten the majority count of the poles, he'd taken old man Red's wagon and stock horse and lifted the number of poles in the fence that he'd removed when he was fifteen. There had been a total of sixty seven poles.

According to Red's wishes, he put the pulled poles aside, along with the wiring that went with them, and set to organizing the brand new poles that Red had managed to acquire for him. One by one, he'd placed the poles and made sure that he took care to do them right the first time so that he wouldn't waste time having to go back a second time to right a pole that was too loosely set in the ground.

It had been back breaking work and the only thing that had made it bearable, the only person had been Marlene. Her father had laid down the law at first, saying they were not to see each other until the fence was done, but had not lasted more beyond the first month. He'd almost gone crazy then and Marlene had fared no better, and so Red had relented. Curtis suspected Grandma Elaine had had something to do with Red's change of heart.

He leaned forward and dropped a brief kiss on her upturned lips. When he drew back, he pushed back a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail and stepped back.

"I have something for you."

***

Marlene's heart missed a beat and began to race. There was a strange light in Curtis' eyes that made her tremble. He was looking at her with such intense possessiveness that she truly believed that at that time and moment, she was the only person in his world. She couldn't believe they'd made it this far. After the night they'd spent together, when she'd woken up to find him gone, they'd decided to wait till after he'd mended the fences. It had been torturous and she'd almost gone crazy, but somehow, they'd made it through.

When he stepped back, she wondered what on earth he had in mind. He'd said he had something for her, but had no idea what it could be.

She didn't have long to worry about it though because right before her eyes, in front of her entire family, Curtis went down on one knee.

Marlene's hand flew to her mouth and she stared at him wide eyed. They had talked about this of course, about starting a home and having kids, but she didn't think he would want to do that just yet.

The chattering from her family in the background slowly came to an end as everyone grew silent, waiting for Curtis to speak. He kept his eyes trained on hers.

"Marlene," he began, "Sweetheart, you know I have nothing. I'm not good enough for you, both your father and your brother have told me that repeatedly. But here's the thing...I love you more than my life. I want to have babies with you and I want us to grow old together. You make me happy and without you, I am nothing." He paused and took a deep breath, "I guess what I'm getting at is this...will you marry me, Marlene?"

There was a brief pause and Marlene thought her heart was going to break. Curtis was so much more than he knew or imagined. He made her a better person, challenged her to be the best she could be. He completed her.

"Answer the boy for heaven's sakes! I'm too old for this nonsense."

She smiled as her father growled. He and Curtis had come a long way. She was glad that he would be walking her down the aisle. She would have been with Curtis regardless of what her dad said, but she was happy she didn't have to go against his wishes.

With a squeal of delight, she threw herself in Curtis' arms. "Yes of course I'll marry you! Wild horses couldn't keep me from being with you."

He stood up, still holding her somehow and slipped the ring on the third finger of her left hand then leaned down and kissed her soundly even as a cheer rose from her family.

He brought a finger to her cheeks so gently that her heart ached.

"You're not supposed to be crying," he said softly, his mouth tipping back in a smile.

"I'm not crying," she said smiling through her tears. "I'm just so happy."

"I love you Marlene."

She looked into his eyes and her heart kicked in her chest. He really did love her; she had no doubt about that. More than that though, not a single member of her family doubted that this man would go to the ends of the earth for her.

"I love you too, Curtis."

They were surrounded by family members then, with Marlene's mom already planning the wedding. In the midst of the noise and chaos and celebration on the Circle O, Curtis kept his arms around Marlene. She knew he wasn't used to big families, she'd seen how uncomfortable he'd been around hers. But he'd worked hard and was gradually becoming part of her family. As he clutched her to him, she looked up and caught his eyes on her. She smiled at him and leaned her head on his chest. His heart beat steadily against her ear reminding her of the man himself. Curtis steadied her and she couldn't wait to begin life with him.

"Let's get out of this heat. You both can make calf eyes at each other beneath the shade, can't you?" Red growled out eliciting a smile from the couple and everyone else around.

"Lemonades and champagne people," her mom called out.

After everyone had ridden out, it was just Marlene and Curtis.

"I have something to tell you."

She looked up at him expectantly, "Go ahead."

"I have some money."

"That's great, we can go get groceries then."

His eyes twinkled before he became serious again. "I mean lots of money. Enough to buy a place and begin that training school I told you about."

She knew he'd played the rodeo, but she had no idea he'd actually won anything. It didn't make a difference to her either way. In the end, he was still just Curtis. She leaned up and kissed him soundly.

Whatever life brought their way, she knew they would be okay. They had each other and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

THE END

#  Stranded, Stalked and Finally Sated (License To Love: Book 1)

Clara had only been on the road for a few hours when she found herself leaning into the engine of the old pickup, trying to peer through the steam cloud to see if she could find out what had left her stranded in the middle of nowhere on a Friday afternoon. She squinted into the sun's glare and tried to get some idea of exactly where she was.

The day was already hot, the sun streaming across the horizon, making the red dirt dance as if it were alive with flames. Strands of sweat had popped up along her brow and were trickling down her face. The hot steam from the engine was not making things any better, and she could feel her hair clinging to her face and neck in thin, wispy strands.

She was grateful for the heat because the sweat was effectively hiding the tears that had sprung forth the moment the truck had lurched across the gravel road and landed on the sandy shoulder. She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her greasy hand and returned to inspecting the hoses and clamps. Surely one of them had to have failed to cause such a monumental outpouring of water from the radiator.

Clara didn't want to even think about what would happen if it was the radiator that was broken. She had just sunk the last of her available cash into filling up the truck that morning. That gas needed to get her as far as Wichita Falls, Texas. Right now all she knew was that she was somewhere past Walters, Oklahoma, on State Highway 70. She had no idea how far away civilization was, and the idea of having to try to get towed to a repair place this far out into the country was something she wasn't prepared to consider.

"You need any help, ma'am?" A deep voice asked from somewhere behind her. Clara jumped and spun around, bumping her head against the hood, causing a small streak of grease to dot her blonde hair. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch, and she immediately thought he had finally found her, that this deserted strand of road in the middle of nowhere was where it would come to an end.

If it was, she intended to fight. She grabbed the wrench she had been using and let it swing low at her side, but she was still shocked to find herself face to face with a six foot cowboy.

His dark hair peeked out of his cowboy hat, and his face and hands wore the tan of someone who consistently worked outside. His bright green eyes peered out at her from under the brim of his hat, and his face was tilted in the lopsided grin of a younger man even though she would have guessed him to be in his early thirties. This wasn't the computer hacker who had terrorized her life. She may not have ever seen his face, but she knew his mean and taunting nature, knew he enjoyed watching her squirm. This strange man didn't seem that sadistic, but his sudden appearance still sent a jolt of fear through her body.

"No. No, I'm fine." She finally managed.

"You're fine?" He chuckled a little. "I think you might be underestimating your problem. It looks to me like you might have a busted radiator on your hands, and I happen to know that you're about thirteen miles from the nearest station."

"And how would you know that?" she asked, tightening her grip on the tool. If he made a move toward her, she was determined to swing first and ask questions later.

"Because my brother happens to own it, and I'd gladly give you a lift if you should need one." He motioned to his large dually pickup on the opposite side of the highway and waited, but when she didn't immediately respond he continued. "My name's Shad Brandt, what's yours?"

She released her pent-up sigh and relaxed her grip on the tool. "Oh, sorry, my name is Clara. Clara Roberts." She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead again, keeping the sweat from rolling into her eyes. Her shirt now clung to her so tightly that she might as well have been in a wet T-shirt contest. She knew she would not be able to get the truck to a station that far away without causing serious damage to the motor. That, and if she stood out here in the heat too much longer she might drown in her own sweat. "A ride would be nice. Thank you."

"Not a problem. Let's just get your stuff out of the truck, and we'll head to the shop to see what Woody can do for that radiator."

"Woody?"

"Woody is my brother's name. Well, technically it's Woodruff, but I won't be responsible for his actions if you call him that."

"I see." Clara bit down on her bottom lip and fought back the tears that once again brimmed up. She leaned into the cab to grab her bag and used the opportunity to wipe away the tears. Just as she started to pull back from the truck door, she felt the duffle bag lifted from her hands, and for a brief moment, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She had been running far too long.

*

Shad studied the girl sitting across the cab from him with intense interest. She was pulling her naturally curly blond hair up in a loose bun, attempting to get all of the sweaty strands away from her face. A few refused to cooperate, and after a few attempts, she sighed and gave up, letting them frame her face and neck. She noticed him watching, and he felt the pull of her light blue eyes.

He had originally pulled over because he found himself unable to resist finding out why this woman was waist deep in a steaming pickup. Her pert little bottom had been bent over the grill as she stood on her tiptoes to peer inside. He had expected to find a typical meek city girl who had no idea what she was dealing with.

What he had found instead was a frightened rabbit that was ready to bolt or fight at the drop of a hat. Shad wasn't one to press in on someone's private life, but the thought that someone could have hurt this woman so badly that she would be ready to attack a stranger who offered her help made his blood boil. He didn't even know Clara, but he already felt an overwhelming urge to protect her.

"So, where are you from?" he asked as he pulled back onto the highway and headed toward Woody's station.

She gave him a soft smile. "Oh, here, there, a little bit of everywhere."

Another elusive answer. It seemed as if she was avoiding giving any details about herself. He was probably lucky to have gotten her name.

"If you were gonna try to fix that busted radiator, you must have some experience working on motors. That's a pretty complicated problem." He was staring out the window, looking out across the landscape at the horizon, when he realized that there were muffled sobs coming from the seat beside him. He glanced over and saw she was crying and chewing her lip. He knew trouble when he saw it, and this girl was in deep.

He eased the truck off onto the shoulder again and waited for her to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry like that. I just didn't..." her voice trailed off and a small sob escaped. She leaned forward and pushed the palms of her hands to her eyes as if she were trying to force the tears to stop falling.

Instead of pressing her or saying anything else, he leaned over the center console and put his arm around her shoulder and let her cry. What began as a small whimper soon dissolved into great weeping sobs so violent he thought her whole body would shake apart. She turned her head into his shoulder and wrapped both her small hands around his neck.

As soon as her skin made contact with his, he felt a jolt of electricity flow through his neck. A gasp caught in the back of his throat, but he managed to stifle it. For that moment, he let her tears soak into his shirt. He had a feeling this was a release she desperately needed.

Shad had been a rancher since birth. Few career choices led to as many rollercoaster ups and downs as growing crops and raising cattle. Every single year the damn rain count alone was enough of a reason to dance or cry, and two low rainfall years in a row were near enough to kill even the most hardened farmers. Whatever was affecting Clara went deeper than money. This kind of trauma was something else, and he would make sure he did everything in his power to help her.

She looked up at him, and without thinking, he used the ball of his thumb to brush away a stray tear. In that moment, he felt an almost irresistible urge to pull her chin up and kiss them away. Rather, he let his hand fall.

"Thank you," she whispered.

As a kid, Shad had brought home every living thing he ever found lost or hurt. He couldn't stand the thought of them alone and suffering. This woman was definitely both.

*

Clara hadn't let herself cry like that in a long time, and now she felt an immense sense of relief as she sobbed into this stranger's shoulder. She knew she should remain vigilant, knew she should keep her guard up in case her stalker found her, but in this one blissful moment, she no longer cared.

When he brushed the tear from her face with his thumb, she felt a surge of heat flow across her cheek. His eyes grew dark and stormy. The moment passed, and she leaned back into his shoulder.

After a little while, she pulled away from Shad and wiped her eyes and nose with the back of her hand.

"Here," he offered, holding out a thin, worn handkerchief with stains and smudges around the edges. She found herself stifling back a giggle. He looked at her, simultaneously lifting his eyebrow and tilting his head to the side. "Is something funny?"

She took the handkerchief and dotted at her eyes and wiped her nose. "No, no." She folded the cloth to hide the mascara spots on the inside and looked into his green eyes, which were sparkling in amusement. "Well, yes, actually. I just never realized there really were men out there who carried real handkerchiefs in their pockets. I was pretty sure that was a myth."

"Well, I guess that makes me a real live walking, talking figment of your imagination." He chuckled, his lip tilted upward in a half grin, and even though she knew she shouldn't, she felt a spike of warmth surge through her.

They sat like that for a moment, the truck idling on the side of the road as the air from the air conditioner buzzed around them in a cool cocoon. Finally, Clara tore her gaze away from his and looked out the window.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked. His voice remained calm and steady, not pushing too much, but openly asking, and she found herself wanting to confide everything to him.

As opposed to answering, she bit her bottom lip, and Shad leaned back into his seat, giving her the time and space she needed. However, he made no move to put the truck into gear or move forward, and she knew he wasn't going to until she let him know she wasn't going to break down again.

"Yes," she told him without taking her eyes off the red dirt landscape. After a moment, he put the truck into gear and continued down the road in silence. Even though he wasn't forcing the issue, she felt compelled to say something else, to give him some further explanation for her breakdown. "I'm sorry for the outburst. Things have just been very difficult lately, and I really don't have the money to pay for something like a busted radiator."

That was only part of the truth. Until a few months ago, she had worked as a paralegal in an upscale law firm in Colorado Springs, and she had had a fairly solid savings account and retirement plan. That had been before HE had taken everything away. The horrible thing was, she didn't know exactly who HE was. For her, HE was just some anonymous person at the end of a computer connection that was ruining her life.

"I'm just trying to get to Wichita Falls, and I'm so close to making it." Clara confided. She was mere hours away from her wandering expedition that had led her from family members' homes to hotels. Alyssa's home was her last resort.

"So close."

*

Shad continued driving down the road in silence, soaking up what she had just said. He could hear the edge to her voice, and he knew there was a lot that she wasn't telling him. This wasn't a road trip or even a trip to see family in trouble. No, this was someone who was fleeing something far more serious than she let on.

The truth was in her eyes. They were so bright and lively one minute, so haunted the next. The damn puppy syndrome kept kicking in every time he looked at her.

He straightened up and kept his gaze away from her. He knew he couldn't afford to take another look at her sweet heart-shaped face for fear of falling completely under her spell. He couldn't save the world, and he had been burned more than once trying.

A few moments later, he turned off of the highway and into the parking lot of the store that belonged to his brother, Woody. The two brothers couldn't have been more different, but they had always been there for each other.

He manoeuvred the truck past the entrance and around to the back of the bay where his brother worked on vehicles. "Do you have your keys on you? I'll need to get them to Woody so he can tow it back here."

Clara nodded and pulled the keys out of her purse. She paused for a moment before handing them over, and he knew that she was debating whether or not to trust him. He had to disguise the fact that he was secretly pleased when she sighed and pushed the keys into the palm of his hand.

"Wait here, I'll be right back."

Shad got out of the truck and rounded the car that was in the bay just as Woody rolled out from under the engine.

"Hey, big brother, what's going on?" Woody asked with an open smile, his face covered with streaks of grease.

"Picked up a woman whose truck broke down on the side of the road. It looks like it might be a busted radiator."

"Is the truck here?" Woody asked, leaning around his brother.

"No, it's still out on Highway 70, about thirteen miles straight out. I'll take you to it later. For right now I'm going to get her set up somewhere for the night."

Woody didn't say anything, but Shad would have sworn his grin faltered just a little. "Okay. I'll see if I can get the keys from her."

"I've got them right here," Shad told him, dangling the keys from his finger.

"Okay, now I'm sure you're up to something. What's wrong? Why don't you want me to see her?" Woody asked, his brow furrowed as he peered around Shad, determined to get a better look.

Shad chuckled. "Nothing. She's just a little rattled, and it's late."

"Sure, I understand. I'll have it towed back here before we close tonight and see what I can figure out" Woody said, picking up a blue rag from the corner of his tool chest and using it to wipe his hands. "You sure everything's okay?"

"I'm not ever sure of anything in life, and you shouldn't be either." Shad told him, smiling as he walked back to the truck. "I'll see you later."

Even though they lived very separate lives, the two brothers still shared the ranch with their sister, Melinda. They had three houses built on different sections of the three thousand acres their parents had left them. They often saw each other, and Melinda insisted that they eat dinner together like a real family at least once a week.

Woody waved as he turned and went back into the garage.

*

Clara waited in the truck while Shad talked to his brother. She was not sure what to expect, but when he walked out of the garage she was a little startled. Woody was a few inches shorter than Shad but stockier, his chest broader, and his arm muscles were more developed. He wasn't as tanned as Shad, but they had the same strong chin and nose.

Assured he was telling her the truth and that really was his brother, she leaned back into the seat and enjoyed the air conditioner. She hadn't been able to relax since she found out someone was stalking her. At first it had been a nuisance, but it had quickly escalated into something far more serious.

Sighing, she tried to avoid the memories of what had happened. She had believed her existence safe and comfortable, but that was before she realized everything solid and tangible could be taken away by someone with a grudge and a computer.

Just then, Shad opened the door to the truck and pulled her out of her contemplative state. Now was not the time to worry about what she had lost, but maybe it could be a time to look at the future.

Shad caught her looking at him and smiled. She felt her pulse race a little beneath her skin, and her breath hitched in her throat. He placed his hand over hers on the console.

"Woody says he will go pull your truck into the garage tonight, but since it's the weekend, it could be a day or two before he gets the parts to get it running again."

Clara realized she was now in debt to this man more than she could possibly repay him. She pulled her hand away from his and took a deep breath.

"Thanks, but I'm not sure how I can pay for a new radiator."

His eyes lost some of their shine as he looked her up and down, obviously appraising the situation. Out of instinct, Clara reached up and tried to soothe the runaway curls. She knew how she must look, coated in sweat and grease, but that didn't mean she was the lost little girl her appearance would suggest. After a while, she started to fidget under his gaze. No matter how badly she needed the truck running, or how good looking he was, she would not allow him to buy her off. She couldn't afford to be in anyone's debt, especially if they might expect a sexual favor as trade.

Just when Clara thought he might stare at her in silence forever, he started to talk. "I need someone who can organize my office into something functional. My sister, Melinda, was helping me, but she's been doing her own thing lately, and everything's gone to hell. It's probably at least a two or three day job, so if you would agree to help me out while Woody repairs your truck, we'll be even."

Clara opened her mouth, then immediately shut it again. She wasn't sure what to say, and was even less sure if this man sitting next to her was the real deal or not. But she couldn't afford to turn down an offer this good. She needed her truck running again.

"Where would I stay?" she asked, purposefully studying his reaction.

"There aren't any hotels for at least twenty miles or more, but I have an extra room you're welcome to," he answered.

_He's telling the truth,_ she thought. _He doesn't expect anything from you except what he's offering_.

"The nearest town is twenty miles away?" she asked, both thrilled with the idea of being that far removed from technology and worried about being trapped with a man she just met.

"No, I didn't say that. I said the nearest hotel was." He chuckled. "The nearest town is Stanhope, and it's just a couple of miles down the road. It isn't big enough for a hotel. There aren't more than six hundred people there, and the place is so far off the beaten path that usually no one finds it unless they're looking for it or are very lost."

Curiosity got the better of her. "So why do you live out here?"

He smiled as he turned off the paved highway and onto a dirt road. "My great grandfather was the one who originally staked the claim on most of the land the town is built on."

They pulled up to a large, sprawling ranch house. It looked like it was spread out in an L shape with a regular three car garage on one end and a large scale garage full of farm equipment on the other.

"So you've been here your whole life?"

"Pretty much," Shad replied. As he sighed, there was a faraway look in his eyes for a moment. "I left for a little while after high school, but eventually I found my way back. I guess there was just too much country in me."

She laughed a little at the concept of someone being drawn to one place or another. "I've never been anywhere that called to me. Houses are just places where my stuff lives."

*

Shad looked at her from the corner of his eye. He could tell every nerve was on edge by the way she couldn't seem to sit still, her fingers tapping on the car door as her knee bounced up and down. He might have only known her for an afternoon, but he found himself wanting to comfort her, to wrap her in his arms and keep her safe from whatever or whoever had hurt her so badly.

He grabbed her duffle bag and jumped out of the truck. Trixie, a brindle Mastiff mix, raised her head to acknowledge his arrival, then went back to her nap. Without a second thought, Shad reached down and patted the top of her head, "Having a good nap, old girl?"

She huffed out a large breath that caused the sides of her muzzle to flap, but she didn't move.

"Is it okay to go around her?" Clara asked.

"Oh, yeah, you're fine. She may be huge, but she's a gentle giant, and she's old. I'm sure it'd take far more energy to get up and inspect you than she's willing to expend right now." Shad assured her. Regardless, Clara gave Trixie a wide berth as she walked around the sleeping dog.

Once inside, Shad took her bag and headed straight back to the guest wing of the house. What looked like a giant L was actually more of a triangle, with the middle section containing the dining room, living room, and a set of offices. The master suite and bedroom were on the end of the house closest to the garage, while a separate set of living quarters was on the other end of the house by the farm equipment. The two were connected by the kitchen.

"The house rambles. There are times I think _I_ might get lost in here, so you'll need to stay close and pay attention. I'll put you in the set of rooms closest to this end of the house so you don't have to travel though multiple hallways."

"I don't think I've ever been in a house with such an odd layout." Clara commented, careful to heed his warning and pay attention as they rounded first one corner and then another before they came to an odd split in the hallway.

"And it's likely you never will again," Shad chuckled. "The house originally only consisted of the middle section, but as our family and the farm grew, we added on. This side of the house is where the seasonal workers lived back when my dad ran the property, and it was a lot bigger."

"How interesting," she murmured as she walked into the small suite of rooms Shad had just opened. There was a small living area with two orange chairs, a bare bookshelf, and a stand with a small tube-style television. Shad opened the door to the left of the bookshelf, revealing a bedroom. "There is a full set of bedding in the closet and towels," he told her, dropping her bag on the bed. He pointed to a closed door across the living room, "The bathroom is over there..."

"Where's the office I'm supposed to be organizing?" she interrupted him, still overwhelmed at the fact that the house apparently contained several small apartments.

"That's back the way we came, where the two sides intersect. Come on, I'll show you."

She nodded and followed him back out down the hallway to the entryway, where a path branched off and up to the office in the middle.

He opened the door to the office and flipped on the light. "Ta da!"

"Oh my goodness!" Clara said as she manoeuvred around a box of files labeled _Equipment._ "You weren't kidding when you said this was a large job! I thought your sister had been helping you?"

"Oh yeah, Melinda was handling a lot of the paperwork until she got elected Sheriff a couple of years ago. Since then, I've just kind of adopted my own system."

Clara looked startled for a moment, glancing back and forth between the piles of files and boxes that he had been using in an attempt to keep everything sorted. Just when he thought she might bolt from the piles of paperwork, she started laughing. "What kind of system would that be, toss the papers and leave them where they fall?"

"Yeah, that would pretty much be it. Do you think you're up to helping me sort through it?"

"I'll do what I can, but you're right, this is definitely going to be a serious job. I do think you're going to get your money's worth," she joked as she made her way around the stacks of boxes and back to the door.

This was the first time he had really seen her smile about anything since they had met, and when she glanced up at him with humor in her face and light in her eyes, he realized he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. He turned his attention back to the office to give himself a moment to try and regain his composure.

"All of this is for your farm?" she asked, once again surveying the boxes from the doorway.

"No, only most of them. Some are for the garage, and some are for the mineral rights. Before Melinda, my dad ran everything, but his filing system was just as bad. Chances are, more than a few things got misfiled. Truth be told, I'm pretty sure Melinda decided to run for Sheriff just to get out of doing this anymore!"

"So, she just ran for office one day?" Clara asked, not looking toward him.

"No. She'd been a Deputy for ten years. When the old Sheriff decided to step down, she thought it made sense to move up. Plus, she's always been better suited for that job than dealing with all this."

Clara smiled and seemed to be oddly relaxed in the room full of paperwork. "Well then, I guess I'd better get to work."

*

After spending most of Saturday sorting through the office, Clara felt she was finally making headway. The night before, she'd made a list of things she would need to help her get everything sorted out. The main priority was filing cabinets; at least five big ones. He may have liked keeping everything piled together in boxes, but there was no way she could effectively organize them.

She hadn't expected him to be able to find them so quickly, but the next morning he brought the first one into the room, surprising her as she was going through the boxes and organizing their contents into stacks. He had set up all five on the far wall while she continued to try and find some method to the madness of the boxes.

After emptying one box, she looked up, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Shad had left after getting the filing cabinets lined up. She looked around the room, delighted that she could no longer see loose files lying around on the floor or desk. The room was starting to take shape. She realized, reluctantly, that she was beginning to like being here in this odd home with Shad. There was something comfortable here, a sense of belonging she'd never really felt before.

Just then Shad came to the door holding a large mug of coffee. "Here, I thought you might like this."

She smiled and took the mug from him. "Thanks."

"You're making some real progress here. Another day and you'll have this thing completely wrapped up."

"Yeah," she paused, trying to suppress the anxiety she was beginning to feel over the idea of having to leave. "It's not taking as long as I thought it would when I first saw this mess." She took a drink of coffee and peered at him over the top of the cup. "Speaking of messes, have you heard from Woody on how much longer he's going to be on my truck?"

"He's waiting on a part, but he thinks it will be in by Monday. Why, are you getting in a hurry to leave?"

She gulped down the coffee a little too quickly and felt it burn going down her throat. There was something about this calm country air she was going to miss, especially when it was accompanied by almost no technological connection to the outside world. There was a time when being so far off the grid would have caused a panic attack, but since that first series of haunting emails, her life had taken a far different turn.

It had gone from emails to tampering with her utilities to making her bank accounts disappear. When she thought things couldn't get any worse, someone hacked into the court system and had given her false felony counts. She lost her job, her money, her car, and she was forced to run. She'd criss-crossed the country trying to stay one step ahead of her stalker, but it hadn't worked. She'd thought moving in with her brother in a remote part of Wyoming would be enough, but he'd found her there, too.

Running was tiring and she so badly wanted somewhere to call home. She had been on her way to stay with a childhood friend in Wichita Falls when her truck broke down, and even though it had only been two days ago, it felt like another lifetime.

"I guess that happens sometimes with older vehicles. The parts aren't as easy to find as they used to be," she finally said when she got the coffee swallowed. "Isn't your friend in Wichita Falls going to be worried about you?" Shad asked, walking around the now clean desk and inspecting the files she had neatly stacked on one side.

"Oh," she said, setting down her cup next to his on the desk and picking up an envelope from the top of one of the filing cabinets. "Could you mail this for me? It's a letter telling her what happened."

Shad smiled at her. "A letter? You have heard of phones, right? We may be out in the country, but we've got fancy things like phones and electricity."

"Old school is just how I roll." She winked and turned away from him, hoping he wouldn't catch the fear in her eyes. If her experience with the stalker had taught her nothing else, it had made her very aware of the influence technology had over everyone's life, even technology as basic as a telephone.

"I'm going to start getting lunch ready. I'll be sure to come and get you whenever it's done."

"What are you making?" she asked, licking her lips mockingly.

"It's a special recipe. You'll just have to wait to find out," he told her, winking a little as he headed to the door.

"You know, as good as you cook, I'm surprised you live in this house alone." she joked, putting her hands on her hips and smiling broadly. He had cooked all of the meals for the two of them since her arrival. "You've put five pounds on me already."

He looked her up and down, appraising her, and suddenly Clara felt almost naked in the shorts and button-up shirt she was wearing, as if his eyes were searing into her flesh. "You were too skinny. The five pounds filled you out in all the right places."

He reached out and ran the palm of his hand down her arm. She shivered under his touch, but she didn't take her eyes from his. They had darkened again, and she could see the desire there and knew it was reflected in hers as well. Before she could think about what she was doing, she put her arms around his neck, drew his face to hers, and kissed him.

His lips were hard at first, but after a moment, they softened, and he returned her embrace. When his tongue slipped into her mouth she groaned low and leaned into him as a fire uncoiled in her abdomen. It had been so long since a man had made her feel this way, and she felt herself slipping into unknown territory.

For once, she let herself go.

*

Shad had not been sure what he had expected when he had touched her, but when she threw her arms around him and kissed him, he felt her barely-reined passion flare up, and it took every bit of restraint he had not to lay her across the desk right there and then.

He tugged the hem of her shirt up and ran his hands across her bare flesh, his erection already pushing against the seam of his jeans.

She responded in kind, pulling her hands away from his neck and trailing her fingertips across his chest and down to his belt. Her hands made their way down to the top of his jeans and started tugging at his shirt while she nipped at his lower lip. It was all he could do not to growl.

He pushed his hand up under her bra and was about to undo the clasp when he heard someone clearing their throat. Pulling away from Clara, Shad turned his head to meet the disapproving glare of his sister.

Melinda was striking with her long honey brown tresses, high cheekbones, and golden hazel eyes, but it seemed to Shad that she always did everything in her power to make you forget that fact. She was wearing her uniform and had all of her hair pulled back into a slick bun at the nape of her neck. Even without any make-up though, Melinda still looked beautiful.

"Woody told me you had a woman staying with you, though he made it seem like she was just here until her truck got fixed. I didn't know that she was such an _intimate_ friend."

Shad shielded Clara with his body, keeping Melinda's harsh stare from her. He could feel her straightening up her blouse and hair, and then she stepped out from around him and held out her hand.

"Hi, we haven't met. My name is Clara Roberts."

Shad had to smile a little as Melinda was caught off balance for the first time in years, and he was a little interested at this different side of Clara. When he'd first come across her, she looked like a frightened rabbit that was ready to bolt at the smallest hint of a problem. He had noticed her relaxing in her time at the ranch, and in this moment, she had the presence of someone who was comfortable in their own skin and used to being taken seriously.

Melinda took Clara's hand in her own and gave it a single forceful pump. It was the handshake of someone who meant business. "Hi. Melinda Brandt."

"Yes. Shad told me about you, and he had mentioned you were the local Sheriff."

"Interesting, because he didn't mention anything to me, not even the fact that he was letting a complete stranger stay at our house and rummage through the family papers." Melinda's voice was flat, but Shad knew there was a storm raging underneath this calm exterior.

Clara flinched a little at the remark about the complete stranger, and Shad once again stepped forward, putting himself between the two women. "That's enough, Melinda. I didn't tell you because I knew this was the reaction I would get. I make my own decisions concerning the family business just as you make your decisions about the Sheriff's office."

She didn't move, but he saw the muscle around her eye twitch and knew she was upset. He also knew that even though she put up a harsh exterior, it was mostly a show. She had been forced to act as a mother hen when their mom had died giving birth to Woody. This tough persona she carried around with her was an act she rarely let drop.

"Fine. I just came by to let you know they're expecting an electrical storm tonight. You might want to pull in the livestock."

"Thanks. I'll definitely take that into consideration." he replied, being sure to keep his stance and his gaze straight. Melinda may have been a year younger than him, and a woman, but she knew how to exploit weakness and intimidate. It made her very good at her job.

She rested her hand on her gun and took a moment to look over at Clara. It was a move clearly designed as a power play, and Shad resented the implications. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, Miss Roberts."

"It was nice to meet you." Clara replied back, nodding. She might have caught on to Melinda's intimidation methods, but she was not letting it show.

When Melinda nodded and walked away back toward the front of the house, Shad knew that she would be back. The fact that Clara had not cowered in front of her was almost like declaring a challenge to his sister.

*

Clara's heart was still pounding in her chest after the encounter with Melinda. She'd made sure to not show any sign of weakness or fear, but that was far from how she felt. If Melinda started digging too much, she might uncover the false convictions the stalker had created. When Melinda marched back toward the front of the house, Clara felt herself deflate a little. She had gotten carried away with Shad, and that was _not_ something she could let herself do.

It was hard to remember to stick to that when he turned back to her with those dark green eyes. She could still feel the heat coiled inside her, burning even lower, and she knew that her body would betray her if given a chance. She was determined not to let that happen.

After all, she would be forced to keep moving once her truck was repaired. She couldn't let herself believe that her stalker couldn't find her out here. He'd managed to find her in remote locations before.

But when she looked into Shad's eyes, she realized how much she was tired of running.

"Now, where were we?" he asked, a small smile spreading over his face.

While she wanted nothing more than to slide back into his embrace, she distanced herself and walked back to the files.

"I think we'd gotten a little derailed from the conversation about you making lunch," she said, watching him to gauge his reaction. While the corner of his mouth did drop a little, his eyes still seared into her.

"So we had. But I guess if a storm's coming, I should table that so I can help get the animals and equipment in."

He nodded a little, picked her letter off the desk, and left her alone in the office. She continued to sort through the paperwork, trying to categorize her emotions along with the files and store them away. Each time a file slid into place on the shelf she knew she was failing miserably. She could still feel his hands burning a trail across her flesh, fantasizing about the way he had responded to her on such a primal level.

"Stop it," she whispered to the empty office. Staying would only put him in danger. She had only been at her brother's for a few weeks, and in that time, his life was nearly destroyed by the hacker. She shuddered, remembering the first five word email HE had sent to announce his presence and intentions. She had originally dismissed it as a prank, but over time, the words had become ingrained in her subconscious:

Your Life Belongs to Me.

*

That night, as she was getting ready to take her shower, she found herself thinking about their kiss. She hadn't seen Shad since. She figured he had spent the rest of the afternoon avoiding her by getting ready for the storm that was now rolling in. The air seemed to be dancing with electricity as the lightning moved from cloud to cloud and then back to the ground.

She'd watched the sparks dance back and forth out of her window earlier. The way they lit up the darkening sky was beautiful. It was desolate country out here, and while some people might not appreciate its quiet beauty, it was something that called out to her. Maybe it was because she was as lonely as the plains that stretched out in front of her window.

Standing under the steaming hot water, she felt her muscles starting to unwind as she let the water trail down her head and back. Just as she was beginning to think about shutting off the water and getting out of the shower, the lights went out.

_He found me,_ she thought as the water tapered off, leaving nothing more than a trickle running down around her. After staying with her brother she knew that most farms ran off well water, and without the electrical pump, it couldn't be pulled out of the ground.

She turned the knobs off so the water wouldn't come back on later like her brother taught her, and reached around the glass door to grab a towel. A surge of fear and adrenaline started to clog her throat, and she fought it back down. It wasn't like it was completely unexpected for the power to go out during an electrical storm. In fact, the candle she had lit just in case still flickered on the countertop where she had left it.

Even so, she was still unprepared for the raw emotion being plunged into darkness brought with it. In the early days, the stalker had found it fun to toy with her by hacking into the electric company's computer and shutting off her power. For weeks, she would find herself being plunged into darkness purely for his enjoyment. When she first came to the ranch, she had looked at the electrical meter to assure herself it was one of the older ones that did not come with remote access.

Knowledge was power, and she was attempting to use that knowledge now to dissuade her fear from latching hold. Grabbing the candle, she moved out of the bathroom and into the sitting area. The lone candle wasn't enough to protect against the encroaching shadows though, so she slipped on the robe she'd found in the closet and headed into the hall.

Although she had been safely and easily navigating the jumbled maze of hallways for two days, the fear that was now pumping through her system made it much harder. She turned down another hallway that led away from her room and towards the center of the house, and almost collided with Shad as he rounded the corner. He bumped her arm and the candle went out, causing a strangled cry to escape her throat.

Shad's hand reached out in the darkness and grabbed Clara's arm, steadying her. "It's okay. I was just coming to check on you."

She took a couple of deep breaths. "I think I was doing the same thing before I got lost in your hallway maze." Clara laughed, trying to make light of her fear.

"Well then, let's go back to the kitchen. I just finished brewing a pot of coffee before the lights went out. I'm sure it's still warm. I was gonna watch the storm through the big window off the enclosed porch. Would you like to join me?"

Clara had a brief thought of going back to her room to grab some clothes, but she didn't want to be alone in the dark house any longer than she had to. "That sounds wonderful, actually."

"Don't like the dark much?" he asked as he started walking back toward the center of the house, using a small flashlight to illuminate their path.

"Not when I'm a rat in a maze."

"You keep saying that. I'm beginning to think you don't like my house."

Clara smiled in the dark. "I like the house just fine. It's the hallways I don't appreciate."

Shad had left two large candles burning in the kitchen, partially lighting the large room. He reached into the overhead cabinet and pulled down two coffee cups. "Do you take yours with cream and sugar?"

"Usually, but right now I think I want to taste the bitterness."

Shad laughed under his breath.

"What?" she asked, eyeing him. He was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, and she couldn't keep from appraising his nicely molded chest and abdomen in the candlelight.

"Nothing, it's just most people would rather drink their coffee the way they enjoy it." Lightning struck outside, and the flash played across his features.

"I thought you said something about a big window?" she reminded him.

"So I did." He studied her for a moment, and she felt the intensity of his gaze travel over her as she pushed her wet hair behind her ears. Just as he had stretched out the silence long enough for her to start fidgeting, he picked up one of the candles and walked toward the back of the kitchen. There was a small door to the right of the pantry she hadn't paid much attention to while making herself a quick lunch earlier.

When they walked through, Clara uttered a small, involuntary gasp. The floor was the only thing not made of glass. Stepping into the room was like walking out into a garden without leaving the comfort of the house. Flowering shrubs and roses pressed up against the bottom of the glass and carefully manicured ivy trailed up the edges of the window framing it. In the center of the room was an ornate porch swing, that looked more like a small sofa with thickly padded cushions on top of a white carved wooden frame.

"Well, do you like it?" he asked.

"This was not what I expected," she replied once she regained her composure. "But then again, nothing about this house has been what I expected."

"It was my mother's one request. She was sick a lot, and she asked that my dad build her a room where she could enjoy her garden without having to go outside."

He motioned for her to sit on the swing, and as she moved to do so there was a lightning strike on the distant horizon. It illuminated the room with sudden blue brilliance that didn't seem to be as blinding as it would have been if they were standing outside.

"A few years ago I added a special filter to help cut down on the UV rays. It apparently also works for lightning."

She sank into the seat and nodded her head. "This is just..." she let her words trail off because she had nothing to describe or compare to this seat in the Garden of Eden.

He sank into the seat beside her as another lightning strike flashed. "We wouldn't want to do this if the storm was too close, but it's far enough back right now that it's safe. There are lightning rods on the other end of the property to draw away stronger hits," he assured her.

She turned toward him, and the instant she did, she found herself trapped in his direct gaze. He had set the candle on the small table by the door, and its light was reflected in his eyes. The storm outside was not the only one she had to worry about. She'd seen that same hunger in his eyes earlier and knew it was reflected back in her own.

Her robe had slid up a little when she sat down, and now the sensitive skin just above her knee was brushing against his jeans as they sat together. She suddenly felt very aware of her lack of clothing, but when she looked down to re-adjust the fabric his hand slipped under her chin and pulled her face back up to his.

"Don't." It was all he said, but that little word sent shivers of anticipation across her flesh. He ran his thumb along the line of her chin as his other found the gap in the robe and traced its edges by running his fingertips along her exposed flesh, but his eyes never moved from hers.

His touch was so stimulating she had to bite the corner of her lip to keep from groaning out loud. He saw that and deepened his smile, slowly pulling back the edge of the robe until it fell off her shoulder and exposed her bare skin from her breast to her thigh. She could feel the air circulating around her, and the tiny rivulets of water that trailed from her hair now slid down her skin, streams of cold and fire mingling together as they moved over her.

His hand flattened out and moved across her thigh, up her waist, and cupped her breast. When he ran the pad of his thumb across her nipple a small gasp escaped her, and at that moment his mouth closed over hers, swallowing her excitement. His mouth left hers and skimmed along her chin and down to the nape of her neck, while his other hand pushed down the other side of the robe, binding both of her hands in the loose pools of terry cloth.

She leaned back as he worked his mouth across her collarbone, licking off the droplets of water as he found them and then gently nipping at the tender flesh underneath. Her breath now came in low, shallow pants, and the fire that had been building in her abdomen since he first touched her threatened to ignite.

There was a raw, basic hunger raging through her body, and when he pushed her thighs apart and dipped his fingers into her wet folds, she thought she would immediately be consumed by the fire.

Her hips arched against his fingertips, begging for release. Instead, he ran them over the sensitive skin, stroking and caressing, building her tension in increasing waves as she struggled not to scream. A flash of lightning flared across the room as he simultaneously licked at her nipple and thrust his finger into her. This time there was no stopping it; she cried out into the darkness, begging him not to stop as she thrust against his fingers once, twice, before he pulled out. She inhaled sharply at the sudden absence of him, her body screaming for more.

She was still breathless and panting, her body aching for release as he continued to tease her at the edge of an orgasm. Her hands were still caught in the folds of the robe and the weight of her body, and when he leaned up, she managed to work one free. Drawn like a moth to the flame, she tugged at the edge of his jeans, desperate to feel the weight of him.

When her fingers connected with his flesh, he groaned and pulled her up completely, freeing her from the robe and laying her on the seat. Now he hovered just above her, his arm muscles rigid with the weight of his upper body. She slid her fingers under the edge of his pants, unbuckling his belt and sliding down the zipper.

He moved against her hands, urging her on as she slid his pants and underwear down, and he kicked them onto the ground. She held his throbbing member, rubbing her hands up and down his shaft, gently caressing him as he had her, laying a trail of kisses from his chin to his collarbone. He moaned and leaned into her, and she smiled against his chest.

A close lightning strike pierced the stillness as he slid into her, and she clamped her mouth around his, biting on his lower lip. She moved her legs up over his lower back and clamped her feet around him, rising and thrusting against him as he pushed into her. The air danced around them, and brief flashes of lightning continued to flare in the distance. When she was about to climax, he pulled away from her kiss and stared down at her, his smoky eyes taking in everything as she pulsed against him, her body shuddering with the weight of the orgasm.

Just as she peaked, he pushed back against her in one final thrust, his back arching, pushing even further into her as they climaxed together, their eyes locked the entire time as they spiraled into oblivion. Outside, the storm raged on.

*

Early Sunday morning Shad moved through the barn, checking the pens and turning the livestock out to pasture. Even though he knew he should be focused on his normal work routine, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman he had left in his bed. There was a smile on his face and a spring in his step as he ran his final inspections on the fence line and the barn.

He waved as his ranch foreman rounded the corner and moved to meet him. Randy wasn't much older than Shad, but he'd been around since he'd started working as a stable boy at fifteen.

"I've checked the barn and the fences, everything looks good. As far as I can tell, the storm did no major damage."

"I didn't find anything on my rounds, either." Randy reassured him.

Just then, they heard a vehicle moving up the winding drive. They turned around to see a county Sheriff's SUV with a bright orange truck following closely behind. Melinda jumped out and approached them.

"I got a man that says he's from the electric co-op. He was supposed to come out and check all the lines around the property. Apparently, they had a report of some major problems originating from the farm."

"And he needed a Sheriff's escort to come out here and check?" Shad joked.

"Well, he probably wouldn't have, except his GPS kept leading him around in circles over by the cemetery. Guess he must be new to Jim's crew." She chuckled a little under her breath, straightening her smile as the man climbed out of his truck.

He was dressed in the typical jeans and company polo, but he was wearing tennis shoes rather than boots, which meant he probably spent most of his time behind a desk, or else he would have known the red mud would stain and ruin those shoes in less than ten minutes. They all watched as he pulled a small bag of tools out of the truck before he walked over. Tacked to his clipboard was a map with an electrical grid of the farm and a checklist. "Hello, Mr. Brandt, I'm Seth Farland. The co-op sent me out here to check everything over. It probably won't take me longer than a couple of hours, if that's alright?"

"Not at all." Shad turned back to Randy as he spoke. "If Mr. Farland needs any help, get one of the hands to assist him. I'm going to take the morning off, so you're in charge."

"You got it, boss," Randy said. "You always work too hard, anyway."

As he walked away, Melinda fell in step beside him. "I don't suppose your taking some time off has anything to do with your new helper, does it?"

Shad stopped and looked directly at Melinda. She met his angry glare with a look of stubborn determination, and he knew she was not going to just let it go. "What I do in my house is none of your business, Melinda. Nor does it matter who I am doing it with. I understand you have some problems accepting I run things differently than Dad did, but you're just going to have to deal with that."

"Fine, but just so you know, I ran the name she is using through the database and it came back with—"

"You can stop right there." He cut her off before she could finish. He saw the anger flare up in her eyes, but she held her ground. "I do _not_ care what you found or think you found. If I ever decide I want you to intrude in my private life, I'll ask you to do so."

"I couldn't care less about your love life, Shad. But she's in there, tampering..."

"Filing," Shad interrupted.

"...with paperwork for our family business."

"If I remember rightly, you left me in charge of the 'family' business. You said you'd had enough when you decided to run for Sheriff. But don't worry, I took out all the important papers and stored them in the safe a long time ago. She's just going through the everyday stuff that gets piled in boxes. There aren't even any bank records in there. The only thing she could do in that office would be to get paper cuts. Good thing you had to guide the poor lost soul from the co-op out here, or else I would tell you that you wasted a trip."

Melinda continued to glare at him before turning on her heel and going back to her SUV. He knew she wasn't through with her inquisition, but she wasn't going to push the matter right now.

In all these years, she hadn't changed.

Shad watched her stride away before turning and heading back to the house. When he opened the door from the garage, the smell of bacon rose up to greet him.

As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he inhaled deeply and smiled as he watched Clara. She was wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts and underwear, and she was humming under her breath. He wasn't sure he had ever seen something so lovely in his kitchen. "Every morning should begin with a half naked woman cooking," he said.

She startled when he spoke and jumped, the spatula falling out of her hand and onto the floor. For a moment, neither of them moved as they looked at the lonely red spatula on the tile. Shad wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he stayed where he was.

_She's still frightened, still ready to bolt at a moment's notice_ , he told himself. He'd thought last night would have eased some of her tension, but she was still very tightly wound.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in." She turned off the burner, grabbed the spatula from the floor, and moved to the sink.

"I forgot to warn you that the well ran on electricity as well. I hope you didn't need water."

"Yeah, I figured that out last night when I was in the shower and the water stopped running." She laughed.

"A guy came out from the electric co-op to check things out, so hopefully we'll have power back by tonight. Until then, I guess I can be grateful that we have a gas stove, huh?"

"Electricity we can live without, but if we don't get water in a day or so, we're going to start smelling funny." This time her smile was broader, and she looked like she was starting to feel comfortable in her skin again.

"Oh, well, I guess it's a good thing Randy hooked up the generator earlier this morning," he said, pulling her close and kissing her. "Your lips taste like orange juice, and your hair smells like bacon. If it stays like that, I'm going to insist you not shower." He pushed up the hem of the shirt she was wearing and ran his hands over her stomach, then down over her thighs, slipping under her panties until his bare hands were cupping her butt.

"Or we could shower together in the dark," she breathed as he pushed her underwear down her legs and lifted her up on the countertop. Seconds later they were both undressed, and he pulled her to the edge of the counter and down onto his shaft in one smooth movement. She gasped as he entered her, taking her breast into his mouth at the same time. He moved her up and down, pushing and pulling her on and off his member, teasing her by pulling out before slowly re-entering her as she tensed and convulsed around him.

"We'll save the shower for later," he whispered, as he thrust deeply into her one final time, driving them both to orgasm.

*

"I'm so hungry that cold bacon even tastes good," Clara told him as she snagged a piece from the stove.

"Yeah, we kind of forgot about eating breakfast," he said, laughing.

"As I remember, that was your fault." Her joking voice trailed behind her as she moved down the hall. "I'm going to go and get dressed."

Shad was putting his boots back on when the phone rang.

"Hello," he answered, suppressing his urge to laugh at the fact that somehow Clara's underwear had ended up on the counter next to the phone.

"Shad, it's Woody. I just wanted to let Clara know I should have the truck up and running by tomorrow."

Suddenly, the panties didn't seem as funny. Clara's truck would be running again. Would she want to leave? Did he want to ask her to stay?

"Did you hear me?" Woody asked, after a moment of silence. Shad could hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Oh, sorry. Sure, I'll let her know it should be good to go tomorrow."

"Okay, I'll drop it by when I'm done."

"Good deal, we'll see you then," Shad told him before hanging up. He struggled to repress his anxiety as he finished getting ready. There were still things he needed to get done today, so deciding what he was going to do about the future would have to wait for now. A few days ago this wasn't a problem because he had known what his future held. But a few days ago he hadn't met Clara.

A minute later, Clara walked back into the room, fully dressed. "Could you try to find a time frame when the power will be back on? I really would like to get cleaned up at some point."

Shad smiled as he walked to the door, but it felt like a mask. "Sure thing," he told her, closing the door behind him. It was a good thing he was getting out of the house. He needed to go somewhere to clear his head. He would tell her about the truck being ready later. Right now it was a conversation he didn't want to have.

*

After cleaning up the kitchen, Clara headed back to the office. There were still a few more things she wanted to get done before she left, and with the blinds open, enough light would shine in for her to be able to see what she was doing.

For the first time since she'd been forced to go on the run, she found herself wondering what she would do when she was mobile again.

_You can't stay,_ she told herself, but she knew it was no use. Her inner voice sounded hollow, flat, like it wasn't even trying to put up a fight. She felt comfortable here. There was something about this place that might convince her to grow roots, to stay and lie low.

"If I could find whoever was doing this, I wouldn't have to run anymore," she said out loud to the empty room.

"That could be arranged," a voice answered from the doorway. Clara jumped and spun around.

The man was not what she expected. He was tall and lanky, and he was wearing an electric company shirt with two crossed pieces of lightning and the words "Rural Farmer's Electrical Co-op" embroidered on the pocket.

"I'm sorry? Who are you? I wasn't told anyone from the electric company would be in the house." Trying to keep her voice calm, she quickly moved behind the desk, putting it between her and the man. If this was the mysterious stalker, she didn't want to let him know how much he had scared her.

"Oh, I think you know who I am. I've been waiting for the perfect moment to introduce myself, but you just keep running away. That makes you a very naughty girl." He wagged a finger back and forth as if he were scolding a dog.

Clara wanted to bolt, but she knew that would do no good. He had her boxed in, and she was on the verge of a panic attack. She took a deep breath, pushing down the fear. She glanced at the windows but immediately turned that idea down because all of them had mesh guards and he would easily reach her before she escaped.

But she knew Shad was somewhere out there, and if she could just get to him, she would be safe.

"I don't think I've ever seen you before. Have we met?"

In response, he slammed his hand against the doorframe hard enough to shake the pictures hanging on the wall. "Don't play dumb with me, Clara. I know you better than that." He took a step forward as he spoke, moving out of the shadow so she could finally see his features better. Underneath the hat he had shaggy black hair, and his nose and chin were pinched in such a way that it reminded her of a mouse. His eyes were dark lumps of coal, glaring out at her with such anger she could practically feel her skin burning. Her hands moved across the surface of the desk, hoping to find a stapler, a letter opener, anything that might serve as a weapon.

She knew if he captured her, there would be no salvation from that rage.

"So, it is true, you are a real live person. I was beginning to think you only existed in cyberspace," she conceded, giving up all pretense of not knowing who he was. When he stepped forward again, she noticed an old fire extinguisher mounted to the wall just behind the door. If she could find a way around him, she could use it to defend herself.

"Ha! That was the intention," he said as he leaned forward and took another step. The office was of a good-size and boxes lined the path between them. He pushed one to the side with his muddy sneaker and took another step. His stare lingered. "You never once noticed me at the law office, never once said thank you when I got you more pens or emptied your trash without you even asking. You probably just thought of me as the lackey. _Poor Chuck Sanders_ , that's what everyone thought, but I showed you."

That gave her a start, and she forced herself to look him in the eye. She didn't recognize him as one of the cleaning staff or as anyone else she would have worked with, and the name wasn't ringing any bells. "Why me?" she asked, suddenly determined to know why he had been haunting her.

"Well, I would have said because you were such a good girl, the picture of beauty and innocence. I had to know if you could be broken." His smile turned sour. His voice had an edge to it now. "But that was before I caught the show earlier in the kitchen. Now, I just want my own fair cut of the action." His tongue reached out and flicked across the corner of his mouth.

That little reaction so disgusted and scared her that when he took another step, she vaulted around the desk toward the fire extinguisher hanging on the wall.

He moved as if he anticipated her thoughts and lunged for her, but she dodged his hands just as she collided with the wall. Grabbing the extinguisher and holding it tightly against her chest, she ran out of the room with him directly behind her.

She ran down the first series of hallways, turning left at the fork towards the built-in apartments. She had spent the last couple of hours moving through the building in the dark, and she had a much better idea of the layout than she had last night.

Ducking into one of the small side rooms, she tried to calm down and remove the pin from the extinguisher. She could hear him running up and down the different hallways, trying to find out which way she had gone.

For a moment, her pounding heart was the only sound that flooded her ears. She leaned into the darkness, straining to see any sign of him. She didn't want to make her move towards the barn only to run straight into his trap. She heard him stumble over something in the darkness. Then a flashlight clicked on, the beam bouncing down at the far end of the hall.

Knowing that now was her chance, she made a break for it, running out and down the hall in the dark. At first she had been positive that he was going to chase after her, but he let her run, his voice following her as she moved.

"You go ahead and run. If you get away from me, you'll never know where to find your precious cowboy." She knew she wasn't imagining the laughter in his voice.

_Oh Shad, what have I gotten you into?_ she asked herself, her hand inches away from the door that would lead to the back exit and freedom.

*

Shad stirred on the floor of the barn, finding Trixie licking the blood from his face as he regained consciousness. After a moment or two the fog started to clear and he remembered that he had been walking across the yard when everything had gone black. When he opened his eyes, he winced a little at the pain in his head. A few seconds later his vision cleared and he could see light filtering through the darkness in small beams.

He tried to move but found it difficult. He realized he was in one of the empty stalls and his hands, feet, and mouth were all secured with duck tape. When Trixie realized he was awake, she started nudging him, biting at the tape around his hands, but rather than coming off, the wet tape seemed to bind up even more. He managed to inch across the floor on his back just enough to get his feet around to the wall of the stall. He started kicking on the wood, trying to let someone know that he was trapped.

Trixie started barking too, baying and running around in circles before going back through the stall door and out into the yard to call for help. After a moment he paused and waited to see if anyone was coming, but he couldn't hear anything. Looking around the stall he noticed a feed bucket was hanging on a long nail. He rolled over to it, straw and dirt sticking to the sweat on his face and getting in his eyes, blurring his vision.

Since he couldn't see, he swung his legs up blindly until he heard them connect with the bucket, and it clattered to the ground. He managed to see enough to swing his feet up one more time and connect with the nail.

On the second try, the wide section of tape caught, and he pushed down with all his force until he heard it begin to give. Once he heard it rip, he took a deep breath and pushed his feet down in one hard swoop. The tape gave way and came off, and he momentarily lost his balance and swung forward as his feet moved down, rolling forward until his head bumped hard against the support.

A trickle of blood ran down his forehead. He knew from the sting that there were probably splinters lodged in his scalp, but he didn't care. All he could think about was getting to Clara. He got to his feet and backed up to the same nail, using it to cut away at the bands that held his hands together. His wrists were so tightly bound that the nail cut his skin as he sawed, but he just tightened his jaw and pushed even harder. He braced himself with his feet slightly apart so he wouldn't fall again. A moment later it had loosened enough so that he was able to wiggle his hands free and pull the tape from his mouth.

As soon as it was loose, he turned and headed back to the house at a full sprint.

_Clara, I'm coming_ , he thought, determined to get to her as he ran the short distance down the sloping hill towards the equipment barn. He started to change direction and move towards the front of the house, but when he heard noises and saw Trixie run into the garage near the combine, he followed.

He slowed his pace just long enough for his eyes to acclimatize to the darkness as he maneuvered around the equipment with ease, slipping back and forth across the garage. He heard voices up ahead, one of them Clara's, but it sounded like they were on the other side of the large space near the door to the house. He started to call out but stopped himself. If the guy who had attacked him was with her, he didn't want to let him know he was coming. Instead he pushed on as fast as he could, determined to get to her.

*

Clara stood in the hall, her hand one push away from freedom. She could run, but her running could leave Shad in danger. Truthfully she had grown weary of running. The past few days here had opened her eyes to what a real life could mean. Not just going out with friends and a steady job like she had had in Colorado, but a home, a place where she belonged.

She tightened her grip on the fire extinguisher and held her ground.

"Are you there, Clara? Did you hear what I said?" he taunted.

Opening the door to show him where she was, she leaned out and set the extinguisher down on the ground, out of his sight. She wasn't willing to get rid of all of her options just yet.

"Where is Shad?" she asked, leaving the door open so that light shone down the hall a few feet. "How do I know he will be okay if I agree to go with you?"

"You don't. You just have to trust me," he said, his leering face suddenly emerging out of the dark hall. Upon seeing him, she flinched without meaning to. His smile deepened and the shadows cut into the crevices, haunting her.

"After what you did to me, after the false felonies, the drained bank accounts, the ruined friendships and lost apartment, why should I trust you about anything?" she asked, her fingertips settling over the top of the extinguisher as he moved closer.

"I did all those things to show you how weak you were without me, to make you realize that you needed me. But instead, you ran." He spat out the words as he took another two steps, closing the gap.

She reached behind her as she moved away from the door, swinging the fire extinguisher up and over her head. At that second she no longer felt afraid. What would happen, would happen, but she was reclaiming the small piece of her soul this man had taken from her.

"You ruined my life!" she yelled as she wielded the extinguisher like a club.

He saw what she was doing a moment too late and put up his arm to block it. The extinguisher hit with a sickening thud and the sound of bones cracking. He didn't stop, his rage seeming to be pushing him through the pain as he grabbed her by the arm with his other hand, tearing at her shirt, ripping it open. Stumping out of the door, he pushed her against the tractor a few paces from the door.

She opened her mouth to scream, but he shoved his damaged arm into it to keep her quiet. He leveraged his weight against her, pushing the wind out of her. The hard metal at her back and his body against her, made her feel as if she was being crushed.

He looked down at her skin through the hole he had made, and the crazed look in his eyes deepened. She saw the shadows move behind him, and her eyes widened as Shad appeared welding a wrench in his upraised hand. Chuck must have seen her reaction or heard a noise because he turned around just as the wrench swung down and connected with his head. He fell to the ground, motionless.

Clara looked down at him and felt the energy go out of her. She started to collapse, but Shad reached forward and grabbed her, hauling her up into his arms. She leaned her head into his chest and sobbed. He looked down at her, concern spread across his features.

"It's over. It's finally over," she whispered up at him.

"Shhh, you're safe now. I have you," he answered.

*

Clara watched from the front door as Melinda, her Deputy, and the two EMT workers loaded Chuck into the ambulance. He had come to fairly quickly, but the sight of all one hundred and fifty pounds of Trixie had kept him on the floor. Before he could figure out his next move, Melinda had burst in, gun drawn.

Slamming the back door on the ambulance shut, Melinda spoke briefly to her Deputy, then moved to join Clara and Shad on the porch.

"It looks like you did the hard work for me," she said, winking at them.

"How did you know there was a problem?" Shad asked. "I hadn't even had time to call you."

"No, but the co-op called, said they had some irregularities concerning the farm in their computers. They said that it showed the farm had been serviced, but Jim hadn't sent anyone out." She looked at the departing ambulance with disgust, as if she could see Chuck through the metal. "I knew then that there was a big problem, and I headed straight over."

"It's a good thing you did," Shad said, wrapping an arm around Clara. "He's a nasty piece of work."

Clara leaned in closer to Shad, her body trembling from the surge of adrenaline and fear. "What's going to happen to him?"

"I expect after the threats, the hacking charges, and the assault, he'll be put away for a good long time," Melinda replied.

After his sister left to see to Chuck's formal arrest, Shad scooped up Clara and carried her back into the house. She giggled against his chest as he turned and moved towards the bedroom.

"You can let me down now," she told him.

He hefted her up a little, leaning in close and kissing her forehead. "Never."

*

The next afternoon Melinda came back out to the ranch to check on them and get Clara's formal statement. They had sat at the table as she had gone over each of the terrible details of what Chuck had done to her. Shad had held her hand and stared at her in disbelief as she recounted the phone calls, emails, repossessions, disappearing bank accounts, and false criminal arrests that had started appearing out of nowhere. She could sense his anger simmering just under the surface of his calm exterior when she talked about some of the more invasive things that were done to her. She smiled at him and patted his hand to reassure him that she was okay now.

Woody and Alyssa were there, too. Alyssa had arrived after getting Clara's letter that morning, jumping in her car and stopping at every town and service station until she got directions to Woody's garage.

Even though she hadn't actually seen her childhood friend in years, Clara found herself comforted by her presence; Alyssa may have been small in stature, but she made up for it with sheer strength and determination. In the last few weeks she had been Clara's rock, the only person she felt she could trust, even if she was just a voice on the other end of a phone line or words on a page.

Melinda told them that Charles "Chuck" Sanders had admitted to everything - the stalking, the threats, the tampering with her criminal file and her bank accounts - and they had found his computer with all of the information on it in the truck he had stolen from the co-op.

"There is going to be a lot of paperwork to go through, and there will be a trial but, hopefully, you should be able to get your life back. And I'm truly sorry for what you had to endure. It would have rendered most women helpless." She looked at Clara with a newfound sense of respect.

"Thank you. I'm a little confused, though. If he confessed, why is there going to be a trial?" she asked.

"Apparently, he has a step-brother who's a lawyer and he's heading down here to represent his brother. They're planning on entering a plea of not guilty by mental disease or defect."

Clara sighed but nodded, accepting that this was going to drag on, but resolved to see its conclusion.

"Once the paperwork is done, my record will be corrected, and everything will go back to the way it was?" Clara asked.

"It should. There's plenty of evidence that he tampered with all of your information. We were even able to find your money. He hadn't emptied out your accounts, he'd just listed them under another name. That way the bank didn't really notice that the money was gone because it was still in their system. The only thing that had changed was the name on the account."

"What about my apartment? My possessions?" Clara asked.

"That's going to be a little more difficult. I'm sure there will be some kind of settlement that will let you get some of your stuff back but, unfortunately, some of your things may never be found." Melinda told her with a straight face. She didn't try to sugar-coat it or cover up the fact that there were some things no amount of paperwork was going to be able to repair. "I've got to go now. I have to file this paperwork before Mr. Big Shot lawyer gets in tomorrow. Assuming he can find the courthouse." She smiled, and Clara noticed how beautiful she truly was.

"Hey!" Woody exclaimed when Melinda left. "We were talking about going and getting a pizza and a few beers at Slice and Suds. Do you want to grab a bite to eat with us?"

Clara smiled. She had noticed the way that Alyssa had been looking at Woody. "You go on ahead. I have a few things to take care of here first, but we'll catch up later."

"You sure?" Alyssa asked, uncertain as to whether she should leave her friend's side to go hang out with Woody.

Clara looked up at Shad and smiled. "Yes."

After the two of them left, she leaned back against Shad, closed her eyes, and took a moment to process everything. "I still can't believe it's over. I have my life back." She smiled slowly.

She felt him tense up and shift away from her. "Does that mean that you'll be going back to your life?" he asked. He tried to sound as noncommittal as possible, but Clara heard the distress in his voice.

Opening her eyes, she met his gaze directly. "Well..." she paused, drawing out her response, "I guess I better do something." The lost and scared girl on the side of the road was gone, replaced with someone who knew what life held and was determined to hold on and fight for every single moment.

Sadness flickered across his face as Shad struggled to regain his composure, and he looked away for a moment.

She moved around to sit in front of him. "I mean, if I leave, you'll probably go back to stuffing all your paperwork in random boxes."

He looked at her. "Are you sure that's what you want? That man took a lot from you. I don't want to be responsible for keeping you from what you really want."

"But this _is_ what I really want," she insisted, as she leaned forward and kissed him, throwing her arms around his neck. Pulling back, Shad smiled his soft, slow smile.

"Let me show you how grateful I am to hear you say that," he said as he scooped her up and carried her down the hall.

THE END

******

Thank you for reading and supporting my book and I hope you enjoyed it. Please will you do me a favor and review "Contemporary Cowboy Romance 3 Book Box Set" so I'll know whether you liked it or not, It would be very much appreciated, thank you.

#  Other Books by Amelia Rose

Searching For Love (Carson Hill Ranch: Book 2)

Mending Hope (License to Love: Book 2)

Galloping Hearts (Texas Heat: Book 2)

Silver River Romeo (Rancher Romance: Book 1)

Silver Heart (Longren Family: Book 1)

#  Connect with Amelia Rose

Like me on Facebook: CLICK HERE

Follow me on Twitter:  CLICK HERE

Favorite me on Smashwords: CLICK HERE

Subscribe to my blog: CLICK HERE

Subscribe to my mailing list: CLICK HERE

#  About Amelia Rose

Amelia is a shameless romance addict with no intentions of ever kicking the habit. Growing up she dreamed of entertaining people and taking them on fantastical journeys with her acting abilities, until she came to the realization as a college sophomore that she had none to speak of. Another ten years would pass before she discovered a different means to accomplishing the same dream: writing stories of love and passion for addicts just like herself. Amelia has always loved romance stories and she tries to tie all the elements she likes about them into her writing.
