 
FIRST IN SERIES SAMPLER COLLECTION

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Anne Marie Novark

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Copyright © 2014 by Anne Marie Novark

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Diamondback Ranch Series #1

The Doctor Wears A Stetson

Jessie Kincaid was fifteen and innocent when Cameron asked her to the prom. She lost her heart that night, but He left their small town to pursue his dreams. Seventeen years later, Cameron McCade is back, and the fire between them burns as hot as ever. Can they take up where they left off? Can Jessie risk her heart again?

Return to Stone Creek Series #1

Her Reluctant Rancher

Trevor Callahan returns to Stone Creek for one reason and one reason only: To sell the Rocking C Ranch. Maybe then he can put his past behind him and move on. Beth Evans is trying to raise funds to build a new library. The late Hank Callahan bequeathed one million dollars for the project, but he attached one stipulation: Do not let his grandson sell the ranch.

Damsels in Breeches Regency Novella Series #1

To His Lady's Rescue

Gilbert St. John is home from the wars and Arabella Trent needs his help. From the moment she climbs in his bedroom window, he knows he's in trouble. Can this beautiful desirable young lady be the same hoydenish friend from his childhood? Can Gilbert rescue Bella from her desperate circumstances even if it means . . . marriage?

Texas Two Steps Short Stories #1

Darcy and Gabe

_Ever since her divorce, Darcy Miller spends many a Saturday morning attending_ _home repair workshops at the local Builders' Depot. When the sexy new instructor offers one-on-one lessons, Darcy discovers do-it-yourself is much more fun with the help of a handsome handyman._

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The Diamondback Ranch Series #1

The Doctor Wears A Stetson

Contemporary Western Romance Novel

by

Anne Marie Novark

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Jessie Kincaid was fifteen and innocent when Cameron asked her to the prom. She lost her heart that night, but his plans didn't change. He left their small town to pursue his dreams.

Seventeen years later, a trip home leads Cameron McCade back to Salt Fork, Texas and the newly widowed Jessie Divine. Since his return, the fire between them burns as hot as ever. Can they take up where they left off? Can Jessie risk her heart again?

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the hotter and sexier version of** _The Doctor Wears A Stetson_ **. The love scenes are steamier and more graphic. For a sweeter read, check out** _The Doctor Wears A Stetson_ **in The Diamondback Ranch Sweeter Series.**

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The Doctor Wears A Stetson

Copyright © 2010 by Anne Marie Novark

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Dedication

To all of those who have been given a

Second Chance at Love.

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PROLOGUE

" _You want me to do_ _what?_ "

Jessie Kincaid dropped the wrench she'd been using to tighten a loose radiator hose on an old pickup truck. The metal tool echoed on the cement floor of her father's service station. She stared toward the big double doors, wondering if she were hallucinating.

"I want you to go to the prom with me." The deep low voice drifted into the garage on the cool West Texas breeze.

Jessie's head buzzed and her lungs refused to draw in air. Had Cameron McCade, star football player for the Salt Fork Bulldogs, the most popular senior in school and drop-dead gorgeous, just asked her to the prom?

Oh my God. I'm only a freshman.

Nothing like this had ever happened before. Her life was predictable, boring. Every afternoon, she came home from school, changed into her coveralls and helped her dad. She repaired cars, trucks and tractors, pumped gas, changed oil and some days even balanced the books. Kincaid's Garage did a brisk business, considering it was one of two gas stations in the small town of Salt Fork, Texas.

Jessie took a deep calming breath and stared at Cameron. He was still standing near the garage doors looking incredibly handsome in his Stetson, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his letter jacket.

"Will you go with me, Jess? Please?" He walked toward her until he was only a couple of feet away.

His killer smile made Jessie's stomach flutter. She picked up the wrench and placed it in the toolbox. "Why me?" she asked, although she knew the answer.

Cameron's sapphire blue eyes widened in surprise. He probably hadn't expected her to question his invitation. Jessie knew he had recently broken up with his girlfriend. The prom was only a week away. Everyone had arranged for dates and escorts months ago, everyone except Jessie.

"Why not you?" Cameron asked, tipping back his Stetson and smiling down at her. "Don't you _want_ to go?"

That smile was dangerous. Cameron was dangerous, too. He was way out of Jessie's league. She didn't date much; hardly ever, if you wanted to get downright technical about it.

"Okay. Sure, I'll go with you." Who cared if she was his last-ditch effort? A chance like this didn't come along every day.

Cameron nodded. "Good. I'll pick you up around seven on Saturday. See you, Jess. And thanks."

She watched him drive away, knowing she probably had a dopey grin on her face. Just like all the girls in town, Jessie had a crush on Cameron McCade. Except her feelings bordered on hero-worship, because he was so far beyond her reach. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would actually get to go out with him.

Oh my God.

When her heart finally stopped pounding, she ran to find her dad and begged him to take her to Lubbock to buy a dress. She hadn't worn one since she was a baby. They went that night and after a long and frantic search, she settled on an ankle-length, backless gown of creamy white satin.

On Saturday afternoon, Jessie locked herself in her room and prayed for a miracle. For the first time in her life, she rolled her hair, painted her nails and applied makeup. Donning the dress, she looked at herself critically in the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. Not miraculous, but definitely not bad.

Jessie grabbed her new purse and went in search of her father. She found him in the office next to the garage, seated at his desk with his back to her. She stopped in the doorway, suddenly feeling nervous and unsure. Was her dress too daring? Her hair too curly? Had she used enough makeup? Too much? She didn't want to embarrass Cameron.

"Dad, close your eyes before turning around," Jessie said. "I want your honest opinion of how I look."

George Kincaid swiveled until he faced the doorway. Slowly he opened his eyes. A glowing smile spread across his rugged face. "Come on in, baby. Let me have a closer look."

Jessie stepped into the small office and pirouetted in front of him. She watched his face anxiously, trying to decide if she could trust his judgement. He was her father after all.

"You'll be the belle of the ball," he said. "Just like your mama, God rest her soul. Cameron McCade is one lucky fella."

"Oh, Daddy. You know he only asked me because he and Patti broke up and no one else was available."

"Even if you weren't his first choice, he's still lucky," her father declared stoutly.

A knock on the office door made Jessie jump. "Goodness! He's here!" she cried.

While Cameron shook hands with her father, Jessie looked him over. He was stunning in his black tuxedo and baby-blue shirt. The tanned face, clear blue eyes, and that kilowatt smile were producing astonishing effects on her. How was she going to survive this night? She wished with all her heart she had more experience with boys.

Cameron turned toward her. Jessie summoned a brave smile, banishing the urge to run away. He didn't say anything for a moment. It was his turn to look her over, from the top of her head to the tips of her brand new satin slippers, and then slowly back up. He inched closer, his gaze appreciative. "You look nice."

"Thanks." His compliment warmed her all over. "So do you."

Jessie's father cleared his throat. "Cameron, you take care of my little girl, you hear? Don't keep her out too late. Have a good time, baby." He kissed her cheek, before disappearing into the living quarters behind the garage.

Cameron thrust a small cardboard box toward her. "I forgot to ask what color your dress was going to be. I hope this is all right."

Jessie opened the box. Nestled in the folds of tissue lay a wrist corsage of pink tea roses. "It's beautiful."

Cameron removed the flowers and took her hand in his. "May I?" His voice sounded low and husky in the confines of the office. Before she could reply, he slipped the elastic loop over her trembling hand.

Jessie admired the corsage, sniffing the delicate fragrance, closing her eyes. This whole experience was like a dream or fairy tale. Not real at all.

"Are you ready to go?" Cameron asked.

That deep voice again. One more sniff of her corsage and Jessie opened her eyes. "Not yet. Stay here, I'll be right back."

Dashing to the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator door and grabbed the single blue carnation wrapped in clear cellophane. Thank goodness one of the older girls at school had explained about corsages and boutonnieres, because she never would have thought of it herself.

When she offered the flower to Cameron, he shook his head. "Huh-uh, it's your turn." He stepped closer until he stood only a few inches away.

Jessie gulped and prayed she wouldn't faint. Nothing had prepared her for the incredible sensations flowing through her body. This was unknown territory where unfamiliar emotions threatened to consume her. She was very good at taking apart engines and putting them together again. She wasn't good with boys.

"Pin it on, Jess."

With shaking fingers, she carefully fastened the boutonniere to his lapel with a long straight pin. She avoided eye contact, keeping her attention on the task. The warmth from Cameron's body, the width of his shoulders, the clean fresh scent of his aftershave made Jessie feel weak in the knees. If she had known being close to Cameron would cause her to lose her breathing abilities and the control of her muscles, she never would have accepted his invitation to the prom.

_Yeah right_. She wouldn't have missed this for the world. Everything was new and exciting and just a little bit scary.

The drive to the high school gym took all of five minutes. Somehow, Jessie managed to get out of the truck with some semblance of grace. She wasn't used to dresses and high-heels. Cameron adjusted her satin wrap around her shoulders and escorted her inside.

Everyone gaped at Jessie when she walked in the gym on Cameron's arm. No one could believe _she_ was attending the prom with Cameron McCade! A feeling of pure feminine satisfaction rose inside of her, giving her confidence a much-needed boost.

"Cameron! Jessie! Over here."

Cameron guided Jessie to one of the center tables, where Lester Smith stood waving to them.

"Hey, buddy." Lester slapped Cameron's shoulder. "I grabbed the best table and saved a place for you two."

"Thanks, Les." Cameron seated Jessie before sinking his tall frame into the chair between her and Lester's date, Amanda Harding.

He threw his arm across the back of Jessie's chair. When his fingers brushed back and forth against her shoulder, her body tensed. The soft caress made her tummy feel heavy and tingly at the same time. If Cameron's touch affected her so strongly, how was she going to survive dancing with him?

"Hooey, Jessie!" Lester let out a low wolfish whistle. "You sure look a danged-sight better in that dress than you do in coveralls. Don't she, Cam?"

"Yes, she does." The admiration in Cameron's deep voice made Jessie's cheeks burn, and she didn't know where to look.

The noise in the gym quieted when the band struck up the first tune. Amanda dragged Lester to the dance floor. Jessie laughed at the comical look he threw Cameron.

All desire to laugh ceased when Cameron pushed back his chair and stood. "Shall we join them?" He gave her one of his special smiles and held out his hand.

The heat from his fingers burned her flesh as he led her to the dance floor. How in the world was she going to survive when Cameron held her in his arms for the slow dances?

For the first two sets, the band played rock and roll. Jessie enjoyed moving to the music. She loved to dance. But then the beat changed, the tempo mellowed and the time of reckoning had come. Cameron pulled her into his arms and held her close. They swayed to the soft music of a love song. She held herself rigid, afraid to breathe, afraid she'd do something foolish.

"Relax," Cameron whispered in her ear.

Jessie forced herself to ease her strained muscles. She tentatively laid her head against Cameron's chest and sighed deeply. This was like a piece of heaven.

When Cameron suddenly stiffened, Jessie jerked her head back and looked up at him. He was staring at something or someone across the gym. She quickly scanned the dancing couples and found the object of Cameron's fierce gaze. Near one of the doors, Patti Nichols and Bubba Garrison were locked in an intimate embrace. Jessie wasn't familiar with the details of the big break up, but Cameron certainly wasn't happy with his ex-girlfriend's behavior.

He forced a smile when he caught Jessie's look of concern. "Sorry about that." With a shrug, Cameron turned with the music and held her close.

The rest of the evening passed in a dreamy blur for Jessie. Cameron never looked Patti's way again. Instead, he focused all his charm and attention on Jessie. She, in turn, lost her heart.

When the prom ended, Jessie and Cameron walked out into the starry West Texas night with Lester and Amanda.

Lester had his arm around Amanda's waist, whispering in her ear, making her giggle. He punched Cameron's arm. "Some of us are going up to Lover's Point. Why don't y'all come along?"

Jessie, acutely aware of Cameron's big hand on the small of her back, tried not to panic _. Lover's Point?_

Cameron glanced down at her before answering. "I don't know, Les . . ."

Amanda laughed nastily. "I bet Jessie's never been to Lover's Point. Her experience with parked cars is strictly mechanical."

"Unlike yours. Right, Amanda?" Cameron said.

Amanda sputtered, caught Lester's arm and hurried away.

Cameron helped Jessie into the truck and braced an arm on the doorframe, searching her face. "Why don't we go for a little while? We don't have to stay long," he said softly. "It's up to you."

Jessie swallowed hard. Did he really want to take her to Lover's Point? Was he offering her a way out or himself?

Amanda's words stung. Jessie raised her chin. "I guess we can go if you want to."

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded. She trembled at the thought of being alone with Cameron in the parked truck.

Lover's Point was a large precipice overlooking a deep gorge west of town. After maneuvering his truck on the bluff, Cameron dimmed his headlights and rolled down the windows.

Jessie hoped she didn't look as nervous as she felt. When Cameron swung his arm over the back of the seat and turned toward her, it was all she could do not to open the door and run.

"You should wear a dress more often." Cameron's deep velvet voice oozed over Jessie's heart, causing it to miss a beat. He gently caressed the nape of her neck and his muscular thigh pressed against her own, the satin fabric of her gown offering little protection from the heat of his body. When had he moved so close? And why?

_Oh my God, he's going to kiss me_.

Good lord, what was she doing on Lover's Point with Cameron McCade? She had never kissed a boy in her whole entire life. She had no idea how to go about it. Did it come naturally? Was there a certain technique or skill to it?

Cameron leaned toward her, his eyes on her lips. A husky laugh from one of the cars floated on the warm breeze. Jessie felt Cameron's body go rigid as he stared at the couple in the next car. She knew without a doubt it must be Patti and Bubba.

Before she could turn to look, Jessie was locked in a vise-like embrace. Cameron's lips came down on hers hard, demanding. He forced her mouth open, plunging his tongue inside, grinding his lips against hers until she thought she would smother.

Jessie realized Cameron was hurting and angry. She felt an overwhelming need to give him comfort. But the punishing force of the kiss frightened her, and she tried to push him away.

Immediately, the kiss changed. The pressure of Cameron's lips gentled and Jessie stopped struggling. Abruptly, he released her.

She opened her eyes slowly, then quickly closed them again. All traces of fear had faded, replaced by a vague flickering of desire. Her breasts felt heavy and full. A churning sensation began in the pit of her stomach and traveled all the way to her toes. It was a new and intoxicating feeling.

"Look at me, Jess."

Gripping her hands in her lap, she peeked up at Cameron. His sexy blue eyes were fixed on her face. Jessie's stomach ricocheted and she looked away.

Cameron cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You've never done this before, have you?"

She felt her cheeks flood with color. "No."

"Was that your first kiss?"

Jessie nodded miserably.

Cameron slammed his palm against the back of the seat, making her jump. He stifled a curse. "I'm sorry, Jess. I shouldn't have done that to you." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I've been acting like a jealous jerk all night long. Hell, _I_ was the one who wanted to break up with Patti."

He reached for Jessie and gathered her in his arms again. He traced her lips with a thumb, and she shivered in response.

"Let's try this again," he said. "A first kiss should be something special."

The sound of Cameron's voice, his gentle touch, and his breath on her cheek--all were threatening Jessie's control. She had already had her first kiss, thank you very much. She wasn't sure she liked it.

Cameron tightened his hold on her. His heartbeat both comforted and excited her. "I'm going to kiss you, okay?"

Jessie had barely nodded before his mouth took hers a second time. This kiss was very different from the first. It had nothing to do with jealousy or anger. Cameron was kissing her for her own sake. Her world turned upside down.

Slowly, she raised her arms and clasped them around Cameron's neck. He adjusted their position, cradling Jessie closer into his shoulder.

The kiss deepened and soon turned into a sweet wild passion. Jessie hung on for dear life, allowing the exhilarating feelings to consume her. Cameron pushed her backward until she was lying flat on the seat.

Jessie gloried in the feel of his big body covering her. She drew the powerful shoulders closer until his chest rubbed against her breasts. She hadn't worn a bra with the halter-topped evening gown. Every movement produced exciting new sensations.

Just when she thought she might die from the exquisite torture, Cameron pulled back. He stared down at her, his breath rasping in his lungs. He quickly sat up, bringing Jessie with him.

Still lost in a fog of passion, she reached for him, but he caught her hands and shook his head. "No more," he said, keeping her away.

Jessie tried to gather her wits as she straightened her gown. She didn't want to look at Cameron, but she _had_ to look at him; she had to say something. "I think you better take me home."

Cameron gripped the steering wheel. He was still breathing hard, and his eyes glittered hotly. "I'm sorry, Jess. I didn't mean to take advantage of you. You're a special kind of girl. Don't ever change." He reached across the cab and traced her lips with his thumb again.

"You're too young, too damned young," he said. "I'm leaving for college after graduation. I have to get out of this town, Jess. Away from the ranch. I want to be a doctor. I want to help people. I want to heal them, make them better. I've planned my future and I'm never coming back."

Jessie nodded in understanding; he was leaving and taking her heart with him. She lifted her chin. "You know, you're not the only one with a plan. I'm going away to college, too, when it's time. I want to major in journalism and work for a newspaper some day."

Cameron smiled and flicked her nose. "Not going to be a grease monkey all your life?"

"No, I want to write," she said. "And I don't want to live in Salt Fork forever, either."

Cameron started the truck. "Thanks for going with me, Jess. It was fun."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yes, it was."

The drive home was silent. Cameron pulled around to the back of Kincaid's Garage, where the porch light glared yellow in the darkness. He led her up the walk.

Jessie opened the screen door and turned toward Cameron. This was it, then. The end. Her fairy-tale prom night was over. "Thank you for a wonderful time," she said, holding out her hand, feeling like a fool.

Cameron stared at her hand, then at her. His face was taut, as if he were in pain. His blue eyes burned like jewels. Jessie wondered what was wrong.

Suddenly, he reached out and pulled her to him, arching her slender body into his. "I have to have one more kiss, Jess. One . . . more . . . kiss."

His mouth crushed down on hers. This wasn't an obligatory goodnight kiss, Jessie thought, her heart hammering in her chest. This was a kiss like you read about in novels or watched at the movies. He must feel _something_ for her, or he wouldn't be kissing her like this. How was she going to stand it when he left forever?

Cameron broke the embrace and set her away from him. "Good bye, Jess." He didn't look at her again, didn't turn to wave. He got in his truck and drove away into the night and out of her life.

### CHAPTER ONE

Seventeen years later

Jessie Devine needed a miracle and the sooner the better. Only a miracle would keep her from losing the service station and garage she'd inherited from her father. She loved the business and hated to think she might lose it. With taxes and insurance coming due, plus a mountain of medical bills still waiting to be paid, not to mention everyday expenses that were eating her lunch, money was a top priority and a commodity she sorely lacked. No matter how she tallied the columns on the spreadsheets, the numbers just wouldn't add up. She'd been working late every night for the past two months.

Face it, Jess. You're flat broke.

With a sigh, she set to work once more, crunching the numbers on the computer screen, comparing them to the ones in her account book.

The roar of a powerful engine outside the station jerked her attention from the spreadsheets. With a frown, she glanced at the ancient clock hanging on the wall. _Good lord, it was nine-thirty_. Who could be stopping by so late, when she was obviously closed? No one from Salt Fork, that was for sure.

Peeking out the window, she saw a shiny black Jaguar with the hood up and a large man leaning over the engine. A Jaguar in Salt Fork? A stranger in distress, no doubt about it. She tucked several loose strands of hair under her baseball cap and decided to investigate.

Jessie's pulse accelerated as she neared the stranger and the Jaguar. What wouldn't she give to service a car like that? The thought of working on that engine sent shivers down her spine. Her fingers itched to explore and repair. With her eyes glued on the expensive sports car, Jessie didn't realize the stranger had come forward to greet her until she heard his deep voice.

"Hello, Jess."

Her head snapped toward the man, and Jessie found herself gazing into familiar blue eyes. _Oh, my God. Cameron McCade._ Her heart shifted gears and her lungs stalled in her chest.

What was _he_ doing back in town? He'd been gone a long time. Now suddenly he was standing only a few inches away, his musky aftershave triggering old memories. Ancient memories. It had only been one night, one night many years ago.

A sharp October breeze brought Jessie back to her senses. Summoning a smile, she extended her hand, thankful to see it steady. "Hey, Cameron. Wow. I sure didn't expect to see you here."

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" he said, taking her hand in his.

When his strong fingers closed over hers, Jessie swallowed hard. She remembered Cameron's touch . . . oh how she remembered.

"Yes, it's been quite a while." Quickly, she withdrew her hand and walked over to inspect the car. There was so much to say. Or maybe there was nothing to say at all. Perhaps he didn't remember.

Jessie ran an expert eye over the engine. "Looks like the fan belt snapped and the radiator's overheating. Have you driven all the way from Houston?"

He moved closer to get a better look at the steaming radiator. "Yeah, I've been on the road since early this morning."

When he brushed against her shoulder, Jessie stiffened at the close contact, shocked by the sharp jolt of awareness coursing through her veins. The heat from his body penetrated the thick cloth of her coveralls, making her insides turn all squishy. Cameron McCade had always affected her that way.

Dragging in a deep breath, she fought for control. Her reactions were ridiculous. She was thirty-two years old, for crying out loud. Not fifteen, like before.

Cameron quickly stepped away, and Jessie wondered whether he was also feeling the electricity crackling between them.

"It's been one hell of a trip," he continued smoothly, slipping his cell phone from his belt. "I blew a tire early this afternoon and wasted two hours getting that taken care of. And now the damn car is overheating. I'll have it hauled to Lubbock tomorrow. Dallas or Tyler can pick me up tonight." He started punching in numbers on his phone.

"Don't call your brothers," Jessie said. "I can drive you out to the ranch. It's on my way home." She didn't know why she'd offered, but when he smiled, her heart revved up a notch and alarm bells clamored in her brain, reminding her of the danger of Cameron's smile.

At eighteen, he had been boyishly good-looking. Now he absolutely stole her breath away. Tall and powerfully built, he had broad shoulders and a muscular neck. The wavy brown hair, strong jaw line, and hint of dimples when he smiled . . . oh yes, a deadly combination.

Cameron hooked the phone back on his belt. "I'd sure appreciate a lift to the ranch, if it's not too much trouble. I really hate to bother Dallas. He's probably already in bed, since he wakes up before dawn."

"No trouble," Jessie said. "You can pull your car into the garage, and we'll get you to the ranch in no time." She ran to the office, shut down her computer, grabbed her keys and locked the door.

While Cameron parked the Jaguar, Jessie sat and waited in her old Ford pickup truck. _Cameron McCade_. She still couldn't believe it. Since leaving for college, he'd only returned once or twice a year to visit his family at the Diamondback Ranch. He'd stopped by her station a handful of times to buy gas, but hadn't come near her in the last few years. She'd often wondered why.

Jessie gripped the steering wheel tightly. Cameron McCade had been the golden boy in high school. Everyone in town had admired him, herself included. He'd been three grades ahead of her and completely out of her league.

Jessie's thoughts flittered away when Cameron climbed in the pickup and set a duffle bag on the seat between them. "I locked the garage doors," he said, buckling his seat belt. "The Jag should be safe."

She nodded, trying not to hyperventilate from Cameron's close proximity. "I'm sure it would have been okay where it was," she said. "But a car like that attracts a lot of attention, and I wouldn't want to tempt anyone."

She shifted gears and started down the main drag. The street and stores of the tiny town were deserted, with only a couple of cars parked under the water tower. A group of teenagers stood talking and laughing. Everyone else had closed shop and gone home.

"Some things never change," Cameron said. "Doesn't seem that long ago, it was me talking and joking with friends under the water tower."

"It's always been a popular hangout." Although, Jessie had never hung out there. Then again, she'd never been one of the popular ones.

Soon the lights of Salt Fork were behind them. Darkness surrounded the truck on the lonely highway. The domed night sky spread from horizon to horizon heavily sprinkled with tiny pinpoints of light. The full moon hung suspended against the blackness, huge and yellow and bright.

Cameron leaned forward and stared out the windshield. "Damn, the stars are beautiful. You can't see near this many in Houston. The lights from the city make it impossible."

Was that regret she heard in his voice? "Just one of the many benefits of living out in the middle of nowhere," she said.

"You enjoy living here, don't you?"

"It's my home. And yes, I do enjoy living here. Unlike you." Good lord, had she really said that out loud?

"Yeah, unlike me."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jessie saw Cameron frown and try to stretch his legs, but there wasn't room. He settled by leaning his head against the glass of the rear window. "It's good to be back, though," he said.

"You've been gone a long time."

"Too damned long."

Again Jessie thought he sounded regretful. "It's been over a year since you've visited the ranch. Ruth sure has missed you."

"I know. Mom's been on my case big time. I usually don't wait so long between visits, but this past year has been hectic and I just couldn't get away."

Jessie kept her eyes on the road, trying to ignore the cramped confines of the truck. Every breath she drew filled her lungs with Cameron's masculine scent, the musky aftershave that had embedded itself in her brain a long time ago. She tried not to inhale too deeply.

"Ruth told me you were busy at the hospital and were up for a promotion. Seems like all of your plans have worked out."

Cameron shifted in the seat. Jessie sensed his pent-up energy, that restlessness that had haunted him all his life.

"I got the promotion--"

"That's wonderful!" Jessie said, wondering at his lack of enthusiasm. "Congratulations. You've worked hard for it, I know."

"I've worked my ass off. If I decide to accept it, I'll be working even harder."

" _If?_ " Jessie asked, not believing her ears. "Why in the world would you hesitate? It's what you've wanted, isn't it? Ruth keeps me up to date on you and your progress. She's very proud of you. Wow. Head surgeon at M.D. Anderson. That's a big accomplishment, Cameron."

He dragged a hand over his face. "Yeah, thanks."

Cameron didn't say anything more and Jessie glanced at him, then away. "So . . . I'm guessing you're here for Ruth's birthday?"

He took a deep breath and once more tried to adjust his position on the hard bench of the truck. "Good guess. It's the big six-o. Couldn't miss that, now could I? Mom's party promises to be the party to end all parties, if Tori has her way."

Jessie smiled. "Your sister usually gets her way, doesn't she?"

Cameron smiled back. "Yeah, she does. You going to be there?"

His low sexy voice oozed slowly over Jessie like motor oil on a piston cylinder. She was aware of his eyes on her, looking her over. Oh yes, the man was dangerous, his smile lethal.

"Of course, I'll be there. Your mother invited me a couple of weeks ago when she brought her car in for inspection. She didn't mention anything about you coming home, though."

Cameron shrugged. "I didn't know if I could get away from the hospital until a couple of days ago."

"Is that when you found out about the promotion?"

He nodded. "My boss--the man I'd be replacing, my mentor--insisted I take time off to think about it and decide. It's a big step."

"And one you're not sure you want to take?"

"Sounds crazy, doesn't it?"

"You never were one to jump into anything without a lot of planning."

"I've always been the man with the plan."

"That's what they called you in high school," Jessie said.

"Just like they called you grease-monkey."

Jessie smiled at the old nickname. "Right."

"But I understand that's not all you've been doing," he said. "Mom keeps me updated about you, too. I hear you're on the Chamber of Commerce. The president, no less."

"I got elected last year. More like coerced. It was a unanimous decision."

"Hey, that's great. You really are involved in the community."

And why wouldn't she be? "This is home, Cameron. Salt Fork may be a small town, but I want it to be the best it can be. I sit on the city council, too. That's how I'm getting the new medical facility built here. Did Ruth tell you about the clinic?"

"She mentioned something about it."

"Maybe while you're here, I can give you a tour. I could use your opinion about a few things."

"Sure, Jess. I'll help anyway I can."

When he called her 'Jess' in that deep baritone of his, her tummy fluttered like when she was a kid. She gripped the steering wheel tighter. "How long are you staying?"

"Only until Monday. I have to get back to Houston. I don't have the luxury of more than a few days off at a time."

"Definitely not one of the perks of being a busy surgeon."

He swiped his hand through his hair. "You would not believe."

"But you like being a doctor?"

"Yes, very much. How about you? Still enjoy working at the garage?"

She smiled. "Yes, I do."

"I'm sure your dad would have been proud of you. Keeping the family business going. I know you must miss him."

Jessie nodded. "Desperately sometimes, even though it's been--gosh, eight years. But he was ready to go. He'd been fighting the cancer for a long time. At least I had time to say goodbye. Your dad died so unexpectedly, you didn't have the chance."

"Yeah. It's damned hard to lose a parent. Makes you think about things. Makes you appreciate the parent who's left."

Jessie shook her head. "I wouldn't know about that. I barely remember my mom."

"Damn, Jess. I'm sorry. I spoke without thinking."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it."

He adjusted his position on the seat again. "I was sorry to hear about TR's accident."

Jessie swallowed a lump in her throat at the mention of her dead husband. Sorrow, mixed with guilt and regret. A whole lot of guilt and a whole lot of regret. "I still can't believe he's gone. It's been almost two years."

"You seem to be holding up all right. Keeping busy and all."

"Helps keep my mind off things." She took a deep breath. "Can I ask you a question, Cameron?"

"Sure. Ask away."

"Are you ever sorry you left Salt Fork? Do you miss the ranch? Don't you miss your family?"

"That's three questions, not one," he said with a smile.

"Math was never one of my strong suits." If it were, maybe she'd be able to crunch the numbers on the spreadsheets better. Only it wasn't the math that was the problem, it was the lack of funds. Best not to think about that right now.

"No, your strong suit has always been cars and engines," Cameron said.

"And don't forget tractors."

"Oh right, can't forget the tractors." Cameron was silent for a moment. "But what about writing? Weren't you going to go to college? Study journalism or something?"

How did he remember that? _She_ remembered every detail of prom night--every word spoken, every kiss shared--but she hadn't expected Cameron to remember.

"Dad got sick my senior year. I couldn't go off and leave him," she said. "So I stayed and took care of him, drove him to Abilene for chemo treatments and kept the garage running. The medical bills were astronomical. I'm still trying to pay the last of them off. By the time it was all over, I was twenty-four. Too old to go to college or so I thought. Besides, I had the garage to consider."

"And that's when you married TR Devine."

He made it sound like she'd committed a mortal sin or something. And in a way, maybe she had. "TR was a tremendous help during Dad's illness."

"A good reason to marry someone. He was a lot older than you. Did you love him?"

Jessie felt like Cameron had slapped her. She'd thought he couldn't hurt her anymore. Boy, was she wrong.

"Of course, I loved him. But this isn't any of your business, is it?" she said, lifting her chin and gathering her defenses. She'd loved TR in a quiet, respectful kind of way. "And he wasn't much older. Only ten years."

"Ten years. That's quite an age difference."

She shrugged. "Like I said, it really is none of your business."

Cameron raked his fingers through his hair again. "You're right. I was out of line. I apologize."

They drove in silence along the highway for several minutes. Jessie wondered at the tone of Cameron's voice. He sounded angry . . . almost . . . jealous. But how could that be? He'd certainly touched her young heart, the night of the prom. But she didn't think for a minute she'd touched his. He hadn't been able to leave Salt Fork fast enough after graduation.

Turning off the pavement onto a dirt road, Jessie kept the truck steady, deftly avoiding the deep ruts in the gravel surface. The headlights showed old tumbleweeds piled high against the barbwire fences, standing at attention like sentinels guarding the way.

The truck dipped as they crossed a gully and Cameron grabbed his bag before it fell to the floor. "Damn, this road is bad," he said.

Jessie dodged several loose tumbleweeds, hitting one or two that she couldn't avoid. "Probably something you haven't missed, huh?"

"No, I definitely don't miss the dirt roads."

"So what do you miss? You never answered my questions."

"Oh, I've missed a few things."

"Like what?"

"The clean fresh air, the Double Mountains, the stars at night and . . ."

Cameron turned his head, and she felt his eyes sweep over her. The cab of the truck seemed to grow smaller, more intimate. Jessie's body hummed with expectation. "And what?" she asked softly. "What else do you miss?"

He looked out the window again. "My family. I've definitely missed my family."

So much for expectations. "Do you ever regret leaving?"

"I'm not sorry I went away to college. And I'm certainly not sorry about becoming a doctor, if that's what you mean. I enjoy living in Houston, for the most part. What I do regret is not coming home more often. I missed seeing my dad, missed saying goodbye, like you said. Mom's not getting any younger either. I wish I'd made more time to see her."

"Well, you're here now," Jessie said. "Ruth'll be ecstatic."

Turning off the road, they passed beneath the gates of the Diamondback Ranch, sixty-four hundred acres of prime farm and ranch land. Soon, the barns and ranch house came into view.

She'd always loved the sprawling old house Cameron's great-grandfather had built. Thick white columns graced the lighted front porch where four Shaker-style rocking chairs sat invitingly. The full moon cast its pale light over the house, completing the cozy picture.

Jessie pulled to a stop in front of the house, cut the engine and hopped out. Walking to the front of the truck, she removed a tumbleweed that had caught on the bumper.

Cameron retrieved his bag and came around to stand before her. "Thanks for the lift."

"No problem," she said. A liquid core of heat started building in the region of Jessie's midsection. She quickly stepped back and away from Cameron.

He advanced until she was almost wedged between him and the grill of the pickup. "Why don't you come inside?" he said. "Mom and Dallas will want to thank you for bringing me home. Tyler, too."

Jessie stared at the designer emblem on his polo shirt. The knit fabric stretched taut across his broad chest. "Thanks, but no. I . . . I can't stay."

The front door opened and a strong beam of light shot out into the yard. Dallas and his mother stood on the porch.

"Cameron, is that you?" Ruth McCade called. "Who's that with you? And where in the world is your car?"

"It's Jessie," he said over his shoulder. "My car broke down and she offered me a ride. I've invited her in, but she's refusing."

Jessie tried to stand straighter and bumped Cameron's iron hard thighs. The contact jump-started her body. A quick glance at his face showed awareness gleaming under heavy-lidded eyes.

She had to get away. She had to say something. "Cameron, I really need to go--"

"Jessie?" Ruth called from the porch. "Come on in, darlin'. You know you're always welcome at the Diamondback."

Jessie frowned at Cameron, who was trying to hide a smile. "You think this is funny, don't you?"

He shrugged and laughed.

Jessie leaned around him to answer his mother, hoping her voice wouldn't betray what her body was feeling. None of this was the least bit funny. "Thanks, Ruth. But it's getting late. I need to get on home."

Sidestepping away from Cameron, Jessie said, "I'm leaving now."

He reached for her hand and dropped his car keys into her open palm, slowly closing her fingers, not letting go. "Why don't you take a look at my car and see what's wrong? Think you can handle it?"

The heat of his touch made Jessie gasp. She wanted to jerk her hand away. She wanted him to hold onto it forever. One thing sure hadn't changed since Cameron had left Salt Fork. Her body still responded to him like fire to gasoline. But she wasn't a kid anymore. She lifted her chin. "Sure I can handle it. There's nothing I'd like better."

He arched one eyebrow and smiled again. Jessie watched in fascination as two dimples played hide-and-seek on either side of his mouth. Those clear blue eyes glittered wickedly, and he tightened his hold on her hand.

"Nothing?" he asked softly.

The powerful yearning deep down inside shell-shocked Jessie. Pure desire pumped through her bloodstream. That one word was teasing, taunting. Did Cameron actually remember the kisses they'd shared? _Surely not_. A man like Cameron McCade wouldn't remember something like that.

"You two going to stand here all night?"

Jessie didn't know whether to be glad or disappointed when Dallas McCade walked up and took his brother's bag. The big rancher always intimidated her. Maybe it was the habitual frown on the man's face.

Cameron released her hand and grinned at his brother, slapping his shoulder in greeting. "Hey, don't rush me. I was saying goodbye to Jess."

"Well, hurry it up. Mom's waiting." Dallas turned and carried the bag to the house.

Cameron stared at his brother's back. "What's wrong with him? He didn't even say hello to you."

Jessie shrugged and shook her head. She wasn't going to explain Dallas's rudeness. Not here. Not tonight.

Cameron opened the truck door and waited for her to climb in. He closed the door and motioned for her to roll down the window. "I'll see you tomorrow . . . to check on my car."

Jessie nodded and managed a weak smile, gunned the engine and threw the truck into reverse. She needed to put as much distance as possible between her and Cameron McCade. Shifting gears, she stomped on the gas pedal and left a trail of dust behind her as she sped down the dirt road toward home.

### CHAPTER TWO

Cameron watched the pickup plow down the road until it was out of sight. Who would've thought he'd still feel a sizzle of awareness for Jessie Kincaid? _Not Kincaid; her name is Devine. She's Jessie Devine now._ Not the pretty girl he'd taken to the prom, but a grown woman. A sexy and desirable woman.

The ride to the ranch had given him ample opportunity to study her as she sat behind the steering wheel. The cab of the truck had been dark; the greenish glow from the instrument panel the only light. But it had been enough.

Time had enhanced Jessie's beauty. The coveralls couldn't hide her slender waist, the outline of her breasts or the curve of her hips. Her wrists and hands were delicate, strong enough to work on engines, but delicate just the same. She had a pixie look about her with that small dimple in her chin. And her full lips were made for kissing.

Cameron remembered the dark night a long time ago, sitting in his truck with Jessie up on Lover's Point--kissing her until her lips were swollen, his body rock-hard. He hadn't thought about that night in years. But he thought about it now.

Damn! The kisses they'd shared had been incredibly hot, almost x-rated. He hadn't asked her out again because he'd instinctively known the attraction he felt for her could be detrimental to his plans.

Cameron turned and walked toward the front porch. He found that he wanted to kiss Jessie again, hold her in his arms. He wanted to see her out of those damned coveralls. He wanted to see her out of her clothes, period. Would she go out with him if he asked? Could they continue where they'd left off all those years ago up on Lover's Point?

Maybe a walk down memory lane with Jessie would help him with the decisions plaguing him. Career decisions. Life decisions. He was tired of the perpetual restlessness he'd never been able to shake. He needed to figure out what the hell he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

He stepped onto the porch. "Hey, Mom. How're you doing?"

"Oh, Cameron!" Ruth McCade welcomed her son with outstretched arms. "I'm so glad you're home."

"It's good to be home." He gave her a big bear hug and kept his arm around her shoulders as they entered the house.

"So, tell me," she said, patting his chest. "Did you get the promotion?"

Oh man, the promotion. Something he should be thrilled about, but wasn't. "It's mine, if I want it. I just can't seem to make up my mind."

She patted his chest again. "Don't rush it, baby. Think it through. You're good at that."

Dallas met them in the hall on the way to the kitchen. "I put your things in your old room."

"Thanks." Cameron glanced around. "Where's Tyler?"

"There's an air show in San Antonio." Dallas rolled his eyes. "Need I say more?"

"Crop-dusting season's over, I take it?" Cameron asked.

"Yes, but you know Tyler," Ruth said. "Can't get him away from his airplanes."

"He won't be here on Saturday?" He might have to clobber his youngest brother if he missed their mom's party.

Ruth shook her head. Oh yeah, Tyler was cruising for a bruising. "No, but he sent me a box of my favorite chocolates and will be home next week. Come on, let me fix you something to eat. How about a piece of pecan pie?"

"Sounds good." He followed his mother and brother into the kitchen.

Dallas poured a brandy and sat at the old oak table. Cameron snagged a chair across from him and stretched his legs, easing the cramps in his knees. "So, what's been happening around here? Anything I should know about? And what the hell's going on with you and Jess?" He took a bite of the pie his mother placed before him.

"Something's definitely going on," Dallas said.

" _Between you and Jess?_ " He looked up from his plate, not liking the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"Hell no," Dallas said.

Relief rushed through Cameron. He didn't want to examine the feeling too closely. "Then what's up? What's the matter?"

"Copper River Oil Company is nosing around the Devine Place, that's what's the matter. Jessie has leased her mineral rights to them."

"So what?" Cameron asked. "That's no skin off our butts."

"Yes, it is. She's running short on cash."

Cameron took another bite of pie. "How do you know that?"

Ruth sat down at the table next to him. "Jessie told me. She's still swamped with medical bills from her father's illness and TR's accident and it's not easy running a garage in Salt Fork. Business isn't exactly booming here."

Dallas went to refill his glass of brandy. "Want one of these?" he said to Cameron over his shoulder.

"Yeah, pour me a double." He finished his pie and pushed the plate away. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms. "So Copper River Oil is snooping over on the Devine Place. What's that got to do with us?"

"It's too close for comfort," Dallas said. "If Jessie's leased the rights on her place, what's to keep her from leasing them on ours?"

"She promised she wouldn't," Ruth reminded him.

Dallas handed Cameron his drink and sat back down. "I don't trust her."

Cameron looked at his brother. "Are you telling me, Jessie owns the mineral rights on the Diamondback Ranch? How did that happen?"

Dallas sipped his drink. "She owns one hundred percent of the mineral rights--"

"On the whole ranch?" Cameron asked.

"No, of course not," Ruth said. "Only on the sections of land near the Devine place. She inherited them from TR."

"How did the Devines end up with mineral rights on the Diamondback anyway?" Cameron wanted to know. "Did I miss something there?"

"You never did take much interest in the ranch," Ruth said.

"Aw, Mom, don't start that--"

"All right, I won't. Anyway, Grandpa McCade sold the rights to TR's grandfather forty years ago. The money helped buy the Gordon place and increase the size of the Diamondback."

Dallas got up and paced back and forth across the kitchen. "I probably don't need to worry," he said. "Copper River Oil won't want to drill there anyway. There's no oil. Grandpa leased the rights way back when, and they didn't find anything then. But if Jessie decides to lease, there's no way we can keep Copper River off our property. And with all the new technology, they may want to try again." He stopped in front of the table. "I don't want strangers on the ranch, tearing up the land. I'd have no control whatsoever."

"Jessie knows how we feel," Ruth said. "She promised not to lease and I believe her."

"I don't believe her. I want those mineral rights, damn it." Dallas sat back down.

Cameron swirled the brandy in his glass. "Have you offered to buy them from her?"

"Hell yes, I've offered. She refuses to even talk about it."

Ruth picked up Cameron's plate and walked over to the sink. "Jessie told me she couldn't sell them. She made a promise to TR on his deathbed." She dropped the plate in the sink with a clatter and snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute! I just thought of the perfect solution. _Cameron_ can persuade Jessie to sell them to us."

"Me?" He jumped up, almost knocking over his chair, and stared at his mother, not liking the odd gleam in her eyes.

"Sure," Ruth said. "Jessie always asks about you when I stop by the garage. I think she's still sweet on you. And she's been alone for a long time. She hasn't dated much since TR died."

Cameron turned toward Dallas. "Help me out here."

His brother shook his head. "Don't look at me. You know how Mom is once she's on a roll."

Ruth frowned at her oldest son, then gazed at Cameron again. "It's very simple," she continued. "All you have to do is ask her out and use your irresistible charm on her."

"What irresistible charm?" Dallas said with a snort.

Ruth wiped the table with a damp cloth. "The irresistible McCade charm, of course. All of you boys have it. Tori has it, too," she said proudly. "All Cam needs to do is turn it Jessie's way, and I'm sure she would agree to sell the mineral rights to us."

Cameron sat down again. "Damn, Mom. Why don't I just ask her to marry me? That would bring the mineral rights back into the family and save Dallas time and money."

Ruth clapped her hands in delight. "What a wonderful idea! I'd love to have Jessie for a daughter-in-law. I already think of her as a daughter. And if you married her, that would make it even better. But do you think she'd accept? She likes you and all, but marriage? I don't know . . ."

"Mom, I was joking," Cameron said. "Look, I've already decided I want to ask Jessie out while I'm home. If she accepts, I promise I'll talk to her about the mineral rights. That's all I'm willing to do, though."

"But Cam, I'm sure Jessie would marry you," Ruth said. "She likes you a lot."

"Lord, help us from matchmaking mothers," Dallas muttered into his glass.

Ruth swatted him with the washcloth. "Hush, or you'll be next."

"Okay, okay. Geez, don't hit me again," he said, scrunching his shoulders away.

"Then don't be a smarty mouth," Ruth said, folding the washcloth. "I just want my children to be happy, that's all. I want to see y'all settled down, married and happy. Is that too much to ask?"

Cameron smiled. He'd heard this spiel countless times before. "What about all the grandkids you want us to produce?"

Dallas groaned. "For God's sakes, don't encourage her."

Ruth sat back in her chair with a dreamy look in her eyes. "Grandkids will be the icing on the cake."

****

The next morning, Cameron parked Dallas' pickup across the street from Kincaid's Garage. He crossed the two-lane highway and came to a dead stop near the gas pumps. The large double doors stood wide open and he could see two people leaning headfirst under the hood of his car. Two pairs of legs and two bottoms faced the street. One of the bottoms drew Cameron's attention. _Very nice._

Tight blue denim outlined the lush feminine shape. The worn fabric hugged the delicate curves. For some reason, Jessie hadn't worn her coveralls today. Cameron glimpsed a line of bare flesh above the waist of the jeans, where she had tied the tails of her plaid shirt. He admired the long legs, the shapely bottom and the smooth skin. From the moment he'd seen her last night, he couldn't get her out of his mind.

Cameron walked purposefully toward the garage. He cursed under his breath when he realized most of the engine was out of the car and lying scattered on the greasy floor. What was Jessie doing? It had only been a broken fan belt, for Christ's sake. He leaned on the side of the car and cleared his throat.

Jessie's head popped up. "You're early," she said, her green eyes narrowed. She had a smudge of grease on her nose and looked pretty damned cute in that ball cap she was wearing.

"It's almost lunch time," he said, barely resisting the urge to wipe the smudge away, which would just be an excuse to touch her.

"You're kidding, right?" She frowned at him. "Is it really that late?"

The man standing beside Jessie chuckled. "Jessie loses track of time when she's engrossed in her work. She gets in the _zone_." He snatched a rag from his pocket and handed it to her. "Here, you have grease on your nose."

"Oh great." She blushed and quickly wiped off the smudge.

Cameron clenched his teeth and raised an eyebrow at the man. "And you are?"

The stranger took his time wiping his hands, then extended one in greeting. "Sam Garza," he said. "I work for Jessie. Fantastic car. We've never had a Jag in here before."

Cameron shook Garza's hand. He didn't like the idea of Jessie in such close contact to the man. He didn't like the feelings bombarding him, either. "I thought a fan belt broke last night. Have you found something else?" He glared at the engine parts on the floor.

Sam glanced quickly at Jessie. Cameron was surprised when her cheeks flushed crimson, as if she were embarrassed.

"We didn't think you'd be here so early," she said, wiping her hands on the grease rag.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, hoping it was nothing serious. He didn't have time for serious. "The car's brand new. There shouldn't be a problem."

Jessie shook her head. "No problem. Not really."

Cameron waited. She avoided eye contact and he had the distinct impression she was stalling for time. What the hell was going on?

He glanced over at Garza. _He_ was looking decidedly uncomfortable, too.

"All right," Cameron said. "If something is wrong with my car, I need to know."

Sam stepped between him and Jessie. Like it was his right to protect her. Cameron shoved the feeling of irritation aside.

"Nothing's wrong with your car," Sam said. "I wanted to take the engine apart. I've never had the chance to work on a Jag before."

" _What_?" Cameron shouted.

Jessie stepped from behind Sam. "It was _me_ , Cameron. Not Sam. I was the one who wanted to examine the engine. Sam tried to talk me out of it, but I insisted. It only took five minutes to change the fan belt. You know how much I like engines. I had to have more. I couldn't help myself."

Cameron stared at her and tried to remember his anger, but failed when desire slammed him in the gut.

With chin held high, Jessie's emerald eyes sparkled in defiance. The tails of her shirt were tied beneath her breasts. Every breath she drew, every rise and fall of her chest, hinted of nipple straining against thin cloth.

Her Levi's molded her slim figure, so tight Cameron felt himself harden. He wanted to trace the seams with his finger, or better yet, his tongue, starting from the slender waist, down the flat belly, to the apex between Jessie's thighs _._

Hold on, McCade. Slow down.

Jessie watched Cameron boldly inspect her from head to toe. Her nipples tightened as his gaze lingered on her breasts. Her breath hitched when it stalled below her waist. Why in the world hadn't she worn her coveralls today? A shimmering wave of heat spread downward as those blue eyes made sweet love to her.

She felt a rush of dampness on her panties as her body reacted instinctively. Jessie glanced at the hard bulge behind the zipper of Cameron's jeans. Her throat went dry and her stomach lurched uncontrollably.

Why in heaven's name was she so attracted to this man? She had been married and knew all about sex. Her loins ached as a familiar warmth blossomed inside. It had been a long time since TR had died. A long time since she had lain beneath a man. The unbidden picture formed in her mind of Cameron rising above her. Good lord, what was she thinking?

Cameron jammed his hands in his pockets and surveyed the engine parts strewn across the floor. "Can you put it back together?"

Jessie lifted her chin higher at the taunt. "Of course, I can put it back together," she said. "And don't worry, there's no extra charge." She turned to pick up a wrench and felt strong fingers clamp around her upper arm. Cameron pulled her to face him. Was he angry at her sarcasm? _He_ was the one who had started it. He knew damn well she could put an engine together blindfolded.

Sam stepped closer and tension flared between the two men with Jessie caught in the middle. She wriggled free from Cameron's hold and turned to Sam. "Let's take a break. It's almost noon. We'll finish after we eat. Unless you're in a hurry?" she said to Cameron over her shoulder. Not waiting for a response, she raced toward the office.

Would Cameron follow her? Did she want him to?

Damn, Jess. Get it together, girl.

Once inside the office, she barricaded herself behind the desk and watched Cameron's approach through the glass door. The bell jingled when it closed behind him. He didn't say anything for a minute, just stood there looking at her. Jessie straightened a stack of papers on her desk. The sensual current flowing between them disturbed her in more ways than the obvious. She had never felt anything like it before. Okay, she was lying. She'd felt it before, but only with Cameron.

Clearing her throat, she kept her focus on the desktop. "I'm sorry about the Jaguar. That was very unprofessional of me. I'll have it ready later this afternoon. No charge."

Cameron walked closer to the desk. "That's not very professional, either. You have to make a living."

Jessie shrugged. "Yes, well . . ."

"I'll pay for the fan belt." He looked around the office. "Nothing's changed much since the last time I was in here. Do you remember?" His voice sounded like melted chocolate, seeping into every pore of her body.

"The night of the prom," she said softly. He'd looked so handsome in his black tux and baby-blue shirt. They had been kids, but the attraction had been strong. It was stronger now, more irresistible, and much more dangerous.

Cameron nodded. "I remember you pinning my boutonniere on my tux. It took several tries before you got it right."

"Because my hands were trembling."

"You were very young--"

"And scared."

"I didn't mean to scare you, Jess. I remember how nice you looked in that dress."

"Quite a change from the coveralls." She'd been so proud of that beautiful dress and so nervous wearing it.

"Oh yeah, quite a change." He smiled and his eyes lasered in on her. "Have lunch with me, Jess."

That jerked her away from the faraway memories. "What?"

"Let me take you to lunch. For old time's sake."

Jessie shook her head. Not a good idea. "I always go home for lunch."

Cameron stepped around the desk and into her space. "Then how about dinner, tonight?"

She backed away, stopping only when the tall metal file cabinet bit into her shoulder blade. "I don't think so."

Cameron moved closer and stood directly in front of her. His musky male scent invaded her senses. She couldn't stop herself from inhaling deeply, filling her lungs with him.

"Come on, Jess. For old time's sake, let me take you to dinner," Cameron said. "Does the cafe still serve its famous chicken-fried steak?" He grinned boyishly and Jessie's heart turned over.

She smiled back. "Of course, and Sarah Sue still makes the best chocolate cake in the whole state of Texas."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Oh yeah, Sarah Sue's homemade cakes. Makes my mouth water just thinking about them." Opening his eyes, he put his hands on her shoulders, grasping them lightly. "Let me take you tonight, Jess. Please?"

She swallowed again, wondering if the subtle nuance was deliberate. The frightening thing was that Jessie _wanted_ him to take her and not just to dinner.

Why not go with him? She was a grown woman, a widow, for crying out loud. She could handle the attraction and the temptation. She'd have to be careful, that's all. Besides, a chance to go out with Cameron might never come again.

"All right," she said. "I'll meet you at the cafe around six."

"I'll pick you up."

"No, I'd rather meet you there." Jessie knew she was throwing caution to the winds. She also knew she wasn't ready to be alone with him at her house. Or anywhere, for that matter.

Her tummy dropped to her toes when he leaned down to look her square in the eye. "Okay, I'll meet you at the cafe. But next time, I'm picking you up."

Next time?

His breath whispered against her lips. A liquid warmth spread through her veins as his hands slowly moved over her shoulders and neck. He traced her jaw with a gentle finger, rubbed her lips with his thumb. His touch was magic, sending thrills and chills along her nerve endings.

Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to?

The loud ringing of the telephone shattered the moment. Jessie couldn't decide whether to answer it or jerk the old contraption from the wall. Cameron stepped away, and she had no choice but to pick up the receiver.

"Kincaid's Garage." Her voice quivered. Cameron may have backed off, but his eyes were slowly devouring her. Jessie felt a warm blush spread the entire length of her body.

"Hello, Mrs. Perkins." She concentrated on the little old woman on the other end of the line. "Yes, this afternoon will be fine. Go ahead and bring your car in. It shouldn't take long to fix. Bye, now." She hung up and jotted a note for Sam.

Cameron slipped the pencil from her fingers and dropped it on the desk. He pulled her into his arms, flush against his hard body. Jessie's breasts tingled from the contact of his muscled chest. He removed her baseball cap and smoothed her hair back from her temple. "Remember Lover's Point, Jess?"

The rugged intimacy of his voice almost made her heart stop. She searched the hard planes of his face. "I remember. I didn't think you did though."

"Oh yeah, I remember. I want to kiss you again," he said softly. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

Jessie licked her lips and nodded.

With both hands tenderly cradling her head, Cameron tilted her face up and lowered his mouth until his lips hovered over hers.

Jessie closed her eyes. Yes, she wanted him to kiss her; she _needed_ him to kiss her. Would her memories live up to the reality? When the office door opened and the bell jingled, she swallowed a groan of frustration and pushed out of the embrace.

Sam stood on the threshold. "I thought you had already gone to lunch."

"I was just about to leave." She grabbed her cap and jammed it on her head, striving to get hold of her emotions. "I'll see you tonight, Cameron. Six o'clock."

He exchanged a territorial-male-kind-of-look with Sam, then stared down at her. The passion in his gaze left Jessie breathless. He brushed the back of his hand gently against her cheek. "Don't be late. I hate to be kept waiting."

Cameron pushed past Sam and stalked out the door. Goosebumps flittered across the surface of Jessie's skin. What in the world had she gotten herself into?

****

The afternoon passed quickly. Jessie put the engine back in the Jaguar while Sam worked on Mrs. Perkins' sedan. When she finished with the Jag, she sat in her office in front of her computer for a couple of hours and crunched the numbers again for the thousandth time.

Soon, she'd have to make a tough decision that would probably cost her friendship with Ruth McCade.

Jessie had promised her friend she'd never lease the mineral rights on the portion of the Diamondback Ranch she'd inherited from TR. But where else could she get the money she so desperately needed? It was either break her promise or lose the garage. What choice did she have?

At a quarter to five, she left the garage and rushed home to get ready for her "date." In the two years since TR's death, she could count the times she'd been out with a man on one hand with fingers left over. Not much experience in that department, even when she was younger. Especially when she was younger.

She pulled the truck around back of the house and parked. Gazing at the home she and TR had shared together, Jessie drew in a deep breath. It couldn't compare to the magnificence of the Diamondback ranch house, but it had a charm all its own. She loved this place; she loved living in a real house. Before marrying TR, she had lived with her father in the tiny rooms behind the garage. If only she could have loved TR like he deserved.

Loud barks greeted her when she climbed out of the pickup. "Down, Sherlock! Down, boy." The German shepherd followed her to the door where a large orange tabby waited, meowing impatiently. "I know, Katnip, I know. Life's tough for an old tomcat."

Jessie opened the door and switched on the lights. The animals bounded past her into the kitchen. After feeding them, she stood at the sink and thoroughly washed her hands with a degreaser until all traces of black disappeared.

She enjoyed working at the garage. Really, she did. But seeing Cameron again had resurrected the dreams of her youth. Her life was satisfying, she reminded herself. Comfortable. Rewarding. Only sometimes a little lonely.

Jessie quickly showered and changed into a cream-colored sweater and dark brown slacks. Sitting at her vanity, she applied mascara and a dab of lipstick, then frowned at her reflection in the mirror.

She really shouldn't be going out with Cameron McCade. TR had hated the McCades with a passion. There'd been a feud of some sort between his grandfather and theirs. Jessie had never found out what it was all about. But she did know it had something to do with the mineral rights. The same ones she was going to be forced to lease in order to raise money to save the garage.

She hadn't allowed TR's feelings to interfere with her friendship with Ruth McCade. And she wouldn't let her husband's animosity toward the McCades stop her from going out just this once with Cameron. She had many regrets concerning her marriage to TR Devine. One more added to the pile wouldn't matter that much.

Jessie grabbed her purse and let herself out of the house. She'd always had a weakness for Cameron McCade. That had never changed and probably never would.

### CHAPTER THREE

Inside Sarah Sue's Cafe, almost all the tables and booths were occupied. It seemed everyone in town was here tonight. Delicious scents of fried chicken, meatloaf and fresh-baked bread wafted in the air. Cameron looked around, spotted an empty booth and made his way across the crowded room. Old friends and neighbors greeted him from all sides. He stopped several times to exchange howdy-dos and good-to-see-yous. So much for the quiet intimate dinner he'd planned.

As soon as he sat down, the door opened and in walked Jessie. Damn, she looked good. The sweater she wore hugged her pretty breasts and her feminine curves filled the tight slacks. Desire riveted through his body. He was starving for a taste of her. Later, he promised himself. Dinner first, kisses later.

She didn't see him at first as she scanned the room, so he stood and waved. She smiled and nodded and started weaving her way around the tables. Of course, she had to pause every few feet and say hello to people. When he couldn't stand the wait any longer, Cameron moved toward her. Ignoring the raised eyebrows and knowing smiles, he grasped Jessie's elbow and practically dragged her from the Johnson's table, where she stood conversing.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said in a furious whisper.

Cameron helped her into the booth and slid in on the opposite side. "You're having dinner with me, not half the town."

Jessie narrowed her eyes and sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've known these people all my life. And so have you, if you bothered to look around."

"I already looked around and said my hellos, while I was waiting for you."

"So you haven't completely forgotten the friendship and fellowship of living in a small town," she said.

"No, I haven't forgotten--"

He fell silent when a tall woman with gray hair rushed up to the table, carrying menus and two glasses of ice water.

"Evenin', Jessie. I'm running late. Just got here and we're short staffed tonight." Sarah Sue handed her a menu then turned to Cameron and nearly spilled the water when recognition dawned. "Good lord! If it isn't Cameron McCade! How you doing, darlin'?"

She set his water and menu on the table and bent down to hug him. "It's right nice to see you again. You haven't been in my café in a coon's age."

"It has been a while. I'm very glad to be back." He shot a challenging look at Jessie. She just smiled at him over her menu.

Sarah Sue patted his cheek, just as if he were fifteen years old, instead of thirty-five. "You always were a handsome boy. Broke all the girls' hearts when you left Salt Fork. You here for Ruth's birthday?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Well, I'm sure Ruth is mighty glad you're home. Y'all ready to order, or do you need a minute?"

"I think we're ready. Here, I don't need the menu." Cameron handed it back to Sarah Sue. "I know exactly what we want . . . give us two orders of chicken-fried steak and two pieces of chocolate cake. That okay with you, Jess?"

Jessie nodded and closed her menu.

Sarah Sue grabbed a yellow pencil from behind her ear and jotted down the order. She stood a moment, looking from Jessie to Cameron, then winked before heading to the kitchen.

Shaking her head, Jessie's cheeks turned pink as she squeezed the lemon slice into her water, then took a sip.

"You're beautiful when you blush," Cameron said. "I want to kiss you again. I want to do a lot more than just kiss you."

Jessie nearly choked on her ice water. With a trembling hand, she set the glass down, sloshing water onto the table. Grabbing a napkin, she dabbed haphazardly at the droplets, her face rosier than ever.

"Here, let me help." He reached over and used his napkin to sop up the puddle. His hand brushed against hers, and he frowned when Jessie jerked back as if she'd touched a live coal.

Cameron folded his napkin. Had he shocked her? It wasn't like when they were kids and she'd been untouched. He gripped the napkin tightly in his hand, wishing he could have been the one to touch her first. Jessie had always been special. He had wanted her that night on Lovers' Point. He ached from wanting her now.

"Relax, Jess. I'm not going to do anything you're not comfortable with. But I won't lie to you, either. There's something between you and me. It was there the night of the prom. It's here between us now."

"I know," she said. "But you're moving too fast for me. Let's take it slow and easy." She tried to smile.

"I'll do my best, sweetheart. That's all I can promise." Not for a moment did he think it would be slow and easy when they came together. It would be hard and fast. He adjusted his position on the vinyl seat of the booth, hoping like hell he could keep his promise.

Sarah Sue waltzed up to the table, carrying a loaded tray. She placed the plates in front of them. "Careful, they're hot. Anything else you need?"

"I don't think so," Cameron said. "Thanks."

Sarah Sue tucked the tray under her arm. "I'm glad you're back, Cameron McCade. And I'm so glad you brought Jessie to dinner. The poor darlin' doesn't get out near enough. Y'all enjoy."

Jessie groaned and Cameron smiled at the murderous look she shot at Sarah Sue's retreating back.

"Maybe you have the right idea about not living in a small town," she said. "I'd give anything to be in a large, impersonal restaurant right now."

"Oh, I don't know. I'm kind of enjoying the fellowship." He grinned, then took a bite of his steak.

Jessie smiled back. "Do I detect a change of heart?"

Cameron shrugged. "I can think of a couple of things I like about small towns. _This_ town in particular."

"Such as?"

"Sarah Sue's chicken-fried steak," he said. "And a certain female mechanic, who took apart my brand new car when nothing was wrong with it."

Cameron watched the chin lift and the green eyes sparkle with mischief. His body instantly responded. It took an enormous effort not to lean over and kiss those moist lips.

Then Jessie smiled at him again--a secret smile, an intimate smile--before turning her attention to her dinner. Cameron's gut clenched with desire. He hadn't been this hot for a woman in years. Seventeen years, to be exact.

****

Jessie watched Cameron sigh with pleasure and push away his empty dessert plate. When he wiped his mouth with his napkin, her heart did a little skip. She wanted to feel that mouth on hers.

All during dinner, she'd been hyper-aware of the man sitting across from her. Their legs had brushed several times beneath the table, each encounter shooting sensual shock waves through her body. She felt on edge with expectancy. Like something important was about to happen.

Unlike Cameron, Jessie didn't believe in plans. In her experience, life was a crapshoot and the luck of the draw; life dealt you a hand of cards, and you made the best of it. Or not. No use planning anything, because something would invariably come along to upset all your careful arrangements.

Sarah Sue walked up to the table holding a steaming coffee pot. "Y'all want more coffee?"

Cameron nodded. "That would be great. How about you, Jess?"

"Yes, please."

After Sarah Sue filled their cups, Cameron settled back against the cushioned booth. "So, tell me about this clinic of yours."

"It's not _my_ clinic," Jessie said.

"Well, that's what Mom calls it. She always refers to it as _Jessie's clinic_."

Jessie smiled. "That sounds like something Ruth would say."

"Yeah, Mom gets an idea in her head and it's hard to budge her from it. So, how'd you get on the bandwagon? Why is a medical clinic so important to you? No one's ever wanted to build one in Salt Fork that I've known about. Everyone's been content with the hospitals in Abilene and Lubbock."

"Seemingly content," Jessie said. "When Dad was diagnosed with cancer, it would have been so much easier if we'd had a resident physician in town."

"A country doctor couldn't treat cancer, Jess."

"I know that, but he or she could have treated him for pain and some of the other side effects. Instead, we were always having to pack up and go to Abilene for every little thing."

"I see your point. Eighty miles is a long way to travel to see a doctor."

"And that's just one way. Then there was TR's accident," Jessie continued. "If we'd had a clinic in Salt Fork, with a doctor and oxygen, maybe he could have been saved. As it was, the drive to Abilene just made his injuries worse. He was in a coma for two months. It was awful."

"You must have loved him very much."

"He was my husband. It was hard to see him die."

"I'm sure it was," Cameron said. "Life's dealt you some pretty hard blows: Your mom, your dad, your husband. I really admire how you've bounced back and moved on with your life."

_Oh, if that were only true._ Jessie shrugged. "I haven't had much of a choice. I've just rolled with the punches."

"So, when can I see this clinic of yours? You've got me curious about it."

"How about tomorrow? No, wait, not tomorrow. I have to go to Lubbock."

"Lubbock?"

"I have some business to take care of. How about the day after tomorrow? I can take a long lunch and show you around."

"Sounds good, Jess. Where is it, by the way? I didn't see it on the main drag."

"It's over on Elm Street, by the high school. Why don't you meet me there around twelve-thirty?"

"I'll pick you up. I _will_ have my car back by then, won't I?" he said with a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Of course," Jessie said with a smile. "You could have picked it up this afternoon."

"I could have picked it up this morning, if the engine hadn't been scattered all over the floor." He winked and her tummy fluttered in response.

"I told you I was sorry about that."

Cameron leaned toward her over the table. "Hey, I was kidding. I think it's great you're so enthusiastic about your work."

"And you're not?"

Cameron sat back, exhaling a long breath. "I used to be. Not lately, though."

"Why is that?" Jessie asked. "What happened? From what Ruth's told me, all of your plans have worked out so far. And now you're up for a dream promotion. All should be right with your world."

"You'd think so. I thought moving away from the ranch would cure my restlessness, but it didn't."

He stirred his coffee and placed the spoon on a paper napkin. "For so long, I thought I knew exactly what I wanted. But lately, I feel like all my plans were wasted. I still don't know what the hell I want. I shouldn't be telling you this. You've had enough to deal with and don't need to hear me whine."

Without thinking, Jessie reached across the table and placed her hand over his. "Sometimes, talking helps you see things in a different light. I'd like to think we could be friends, Cameron."

He reversed positions of their hands, with him holding hers in a tight clasp. His sapphire-blue eyes suddenly glittered hotly. The intensity in Cameron's eyes would be her downfall, she was certain of it.

"I'd like to think we could be more than friends," he said, squeezing her hand. "In fact, I think we're already more than friends."

That bubble of expectancy grew in Jessie's stomach. She tried to retrieve her hand, but he wouldn't let her. "I've never been good with the male/female thing," she said.

He grinned at her, showing that tantalizing hint of dimple. Jessie braced her feet on the floor so she wouldn't slither under the table into a puddle of mush.

"If I remember correctly, you were quite good at the male/female thing. Up on Lover's Point, even though it was your first kiss, you learned very quickly. Oh God, Jess, you don't know how close I came to changing my plans after kissing you."

Jessie pulled her hand back, and this time he let go. "Obviously, I wasn't that good. I never saw you again except when you stopped by the garage for gas on your visits to the ranch."

"You were too young," he said. " _I_ was too young. I had to go with my plans, Jess. I never wanted to be a rancher or farmer like my father and brothers. I always wanted to be a doctor."

"I know, Cameron. I understood, even back then."

"I'd like to see you while I'm here," he said. "Let's explore this thing between us, find out where it takes us."

She took a deep breath and nodded, wondering how and where it would end and whether she would survive this time around. "Okay. Sure, I'd like that, too."

****

Cameron and Jessie walked out of the café and into the clear cool night. Millions of stars twinkled brightly in the velvety black West Texas sky. The breeze whipped Jessie's hair across her face. Before he could help himself, Cameron brushed the tendrils back over her forehead. Her skin was smooth and warm, her hair like satin. He needed to pull her against him, right here, right now. He didn't care who the hell saw them. He was dying a thousand deaths from wanting, needing to taste her.

Jessie froze under his touch. Her eyes held a wary expression, plus something else. A latent passion, an awareness of the crackling energy flowing between them. It had been there all during dinner.

Cameron nudged her forward, away from the cafe's neon light. He splayed his hand on the small of her back and kept it there, not letting it slide down the curve of her sexy bottom like he was itching to do.

"Where are you parked?" he asked, his voice harsh with desire.

"Way in back."

Frowning, Cameron guided her along the side of the cafe. "Don't you know it's not safe to park behind buildings?"

She looked up from digging in her purse for her keys. "Not safe? What could possibly happen?"

"You could be mugged or worse."

"Don't be silly. This is Salt Fork, not Houston," she said with a smile. "No one's ever gotten mugged around here."

He held out his hand. "Give me your keys. I'll open the door for you."

"Boy, you have been gone a long time," she said. "Nobody locks their car, even in town. Remember?"

Muttering under his breath, he started to open the truck door, then changed his mind. He wrapped his fingers around her arm and pulled her against him. She dropped her purse and stared at him, then his lips.

"Unlocked doors. Parking in the back. It could be very easy for someone to grab you," he said. There was no fear in Jessie's eyes, only awareness.

Cameron gripped her bottom and cradled her body into his. She fit perfectly, smelled wonderful. He forgot all about taking things slowly. Her mouth was too close, too inviting.

He intended to have just one quick taste as he lowered his mouth to hers. Jessie melted into his embrace. When she sighed a sexy little sigh, something snapped inside of him. He pushed her against the truck, his hard thighs pressing into her softness. He clasped both sides of her head and slanted his mouth, plunging his tongue deeply into her sweet warmth. His fingers slid into her silky hair as he trailed hot kisses along her cheekbone and down her neck.

Jessie tilted her head and arched her body. Cameron felt her hands digging into his shoulders, as if hanging on for dear life. A soft whimper in the back of her throat fueled the desire raging in his veins. He took her mouth again, cupping her breast in the palm of his hand. Blood pounded in his temples and his groin. He couldn't get enough of her.

Jessie's body was on fire. Every nerve ending screamed for more of Cameron's touch. His lips burned a path wherever they roamed. She pulled him closer and felt his hardness pushing against her stomach.

Standing on tiptoe, she instinctively rubbed against him, seeking to ease the raw emptiness inside. Skimming her fingers over the powerful shoulders and neck, Jessie felt the corded muscles bunch up and the tendons grow taut. The coiled tension in his big body begged for release; her own body pleaded for more.

He sought her mouth once again, his tongue thrusting inside, his thumb brushing her nipple. Pressing closer, Cameron covered the length of her body with his. Every stroke of his tongue, every touch of his thumb carried Jessie higher into a maelstrom of sensation, building to such a crescendo she thought she might die from the scorching pleasure.

Cameron tightened his hold on her. The soft warmth of her skin beckoned to him from beneath the woolly sweater. "I _need_ you, Jess. I'm burning up for you. Let me follow you home."

"I don't think that's a good idea," she managed to say.

He searched her face. "Why not?"

"This is happening too fast. I thought we agreed to take it slow and easy. Besides, I'm not ready." She shrugged away and turned to open the truck door.

He couldn't let her go. Not yet. He pinned her against the truck again, supporting himself with his hands on either side of her, pressing his body against the supple curves of her back and bottom. "You're ready," he breathed in her ear. "You want me as much as I want you. Don't deny it, Jess. We'd be good together and you know it."

She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against the glass of the window. His voice was low and seductive. Jessie felt delicious shivers skitter over her skin where his body touched hers from behind. Cameron nuzzled her ear lobe, his strong hands reaching around to caress her breasts. She desperately wanted to give in to the desire surging between them. It would be so easy to invite him home. But afterwards? There would be no afterwards. He was returning to Houston, and she was staying in Salt Fork.

Jessie turned around. Before she could explain, Cameron swept her into his arms again, crushing her mouth with a deep hot kiss. All logical reasons to deny him disappeared as physical sensation took over, carrying her on the waves of desire.

Loud voices and the thud of heavy boots brought Jessie crashing down to earth. She placed her hands on Cameron's chest and pushed with all her might.

"Damn." He gave her one more quick kiss before stepping away.

Jessie hurriedly smoothed her hair into place and held her breath, hoping that whoever it was would just get in their car and drive away. She wasn't so lucky.

"Hey, Jessie. Is that you? You all right?"

Picking up her purse, she straightened. Parker Hendricks and Jason Turner stood by their trucks, craning their necks to see who she was with. "Yes, Parker. I'm okay."

"Who you got with you?" The two lanky cowboys strolled over. Their eyes widened and two grins split their suntanned faces. "Well, I'll be damned," Parker said. "How you doin', McCade? Been a long time, ain't it?"

"Too damned long." Cameron shook both their hands.

"Visiting the old home place, are you?" Jason asked. "Shouldn't forget all your old friends here in Salt Fork, just 'cause you live the good life in Houston."

"I'm beginning to think you're right," Cameron said.

"What are you boys up to?" Jessie asked, her heart still racing. She glanced at Cameron. He was breathing hard and his dark eyes still blazed with hunger.

Jason shrugged. "We were just gonna grab a bite to eat, then get on back to the ranch. Working at the C&L, you know."

Parker frowned at Jessie. "Did you and Cameron eat dinner together? Are y'all on a _date_?"

Jessie cringed inwardly. Already, speculation would be running rampant in town. People would talk, and when Cameron left, everyone would look at her and feel sorry for her. "We didn't come together," she said.

"She wouldn't let me pick her up," Cameron told them. "And she won't let me see her home."

Jessie frowned at him. Cameron seemed to be enjoying her predicament.

"Aw, Jess," Parker said. "How many times have people told you to go out and have some fun? Cain't bury yourself, just because old TR passed on to his reward. You're young, girl. Let McCade see you home." He winked at her and smiled at Cameron. Jason nodded in agreement.

Jessie wanted to bash their heads together. Cameron stood there waiting, challenge gleaming in his blue eyes. He'd quickly turned this interruption to his advantage. What had happened to his promise to go slowly?

"We came in separate cars," Jessie said. "I wouldn't want Cameron to go out of his way."

"Hell, your place is right on the way to the Diamondback Ranch. You let McCade see you home." Parker turned to Cameron. "How's old Dallas doing, anyway? Ain't seen him in a couple of weeks."

"Everyone's fine," Cameron said. He opened the truck door for Jessie, ignoring the murderous look in her eyes. "Thanks for your help, fellas. I'll follow Jessie home now. Nice seeing you both."

"Anytime, McCade. Don't be a stranger, you hear? Take care, Jess." Parker slapped Cameron on the back and winked again.

Jessie started the engine and threw the truck into reverse. She had no intention of waiting for Cameron. Maybe he'd change his mind and go home. He'd _better_ change his mind, because she wasn't going to let him in her house tonight. If he couldn't slow things down, then she would have to do it. Putting the truck into drive, she left the three men standing in the parking lot staring after her.

Parker pushed back his Stetson and shook his head. "What made Jessie so mad? She sure left in a hurry."

"You going after her?" Jason asked Cameron.

"No, I don't think so," he said. "See you around, Parker. Jason. It's time for me to head on back to the ranch anyway. Good night." Cameron turned and walked toward Dallas's truck.

How could he have lost control like that when he'd kissed Jessie? He was the master of control. But standing with her alone under the bright stars--he hadn't been able to resist temptation. Damn, she'd felt good in his arms and she'd tasted hot and sweet.

Cameron looked down the road at the rapidly vanishing taillights of Jessie's truck. That was the second time she had fled from him. Like she was running scared. That was not what he wanted. Not what he wanted at all.

### CHAPTER FOUR

It was late afternoon the next day before Cameron picked up his car from the garage. He and Dallas had gone to Abilene to buy their mom's birthday present. Dallas dropped him off at Kincaid's on the way back to the ranch.

A quick look in the empty garage sent Cameron to the small office. Fire kindled his blood at the thought of seeing Jessie again. The bell on the door tinkled a friendly greeting, but Cameron didn't feel the least bit friendly when he saw Sam Garza sitting behind the old oak desk.

The glass door swished closed behind him as he glared at Garza. "Where's Jessie?"

Sam didn't look up from the receipts he was sorting. "She had business in Lubbock this morning. Then she called and said she wouldn't be in today."

Cameron stepped forward. The man acted like he owned the place. What kind of relationship did Garza share with Jessie, anyway?

"Is something the matter with her? Is she sick?" He kept his voice calm, putting a lid on his rising hostility. If he didn't know better, he'd say he was jealous, which was ridiculous. Wasn't it?

Sam tilted back his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. "I don't know what's wrong with her. This is the first time she's missed work since I've been here. Maybe she doesn't want to see you again." Righting the chair, he rose slowly to his feet, leaning his fists on the desk. "I think she's scared of you."

"There's no reason for Jessie to be afraid of me."

"I think she has a very good reason," Sam said. "She's afraid she'll get hurt. I wouldn't want that to happen, you understand?"

Cameron understood all right. "Are you in love with Jessie?"

Sam threw back his head and laughed. Cameron didn't know whether the man was laughing in amusement or bitterness.

"Who wouldn't love Jessie once they know her? She's beautiful and smart. And a damned good mechanic." Sam shrugged his shoulders. "When I came to Salt Fork, her husband had recently died. She was advertising for someone to help in the garage. I applied for the job and I've been here ever since. I love Jessie, but I'm not _in love_ with her."

"So, you're her self-appointed guardian?"

Sam shrugged again. "She has no one else."

Cameron leaned forward and stared hard at Garza. The man didn't flinch or back away. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I don't intend to hurt Jessie in any way. She's a grown woman and can make her own decisions. Now, how much do I owe for the car?"

He pulled out his wallet and waited. Garza looked like he wanted to say something more, but didn't. He quickly flipped through the day's receipts and handed Cameron his bill.

****

Jessie scattered seed for the chickens, then gathered the eggs, placing them gently in her wicker basket. She replenished their water before herding the matronly brood into the henhouse for the night. After locking the door against nightly marauders, she headed for the house with Sherlock and Katnip following closely at her heels.

Dusk cloaked the barnyard as night settled in; the lone evening star twinkled in the sky. Crickets chirped their night song, and a soft breeze rustled the last of the leaves on the big oak tree near the back door. As the sun gave up its last vestiges of light, the halogen lamp on the tall pole in front of the house flickered on, casting a comforting glow around the yard.

Jessie stopped a moment under the lamp pole and breathed in a deep lungful of fresh air, enjoying the night sounds all around. What a stressful day it had been. In Lubbock, she'd seen her lawyer and set the groundwork to lease the oil rights she owned on the Diamondback Ranch. She hadn't actually committed the vile deed yet, but everything was in place. One phone call to Mr. Bennett, and he'd put the wheels in motion and make it happen.

Jessie kept hoping against hope that a miracle would occur--maybe she'd win the lottery or something, so she wouldn't have to make that call. But in reality, there were no other options available. Jessie knew she was going to be forced to renege on the promise she'd made to Ruth McCade. She didn't see any other way to get the money she desperately needed. She would have to warn Ruth; she owed her that much.

Jessie spotted the headlights of a car through the grove of mesquite trees bordering the dirt road leading to the house. Sherlock took exception to the newcomer and dashed to the edge of the lawn, barking loudly.

When the black Jaguar pulled up, Jessie's heart plummeted. She'd purposely stayed away from the shop today because she'd wanted to avoid another meeting with Cameron. She had tried not to think of the night before and that incredible kiss behind the cafe, but her traitorous body wouldn't let her forget. Her breasts ached and the feeling of emptiness deep inside reminded her of her lonely state.

Setting the basket of eggs beside the door, she gathered her courage and waited. And waited. Cameron made no move to get out of the car. Sherlock stood at the door on the driver's side, growling ferociously, his sharp teeth gleaming in the lamplight. For a split second, Jessie had a good mind to go in the house and leave Cameron to his fate. But that was the coward's way out and she wasn't a coward. She'd have to face him sooner or later. With a deep breath for courage, she called Sherlock to heel. The big German shepherd barked a few more times before relinquishing his position.

Slowly opening the door, Cameron eased out of the sports car. "That's some guard dog you've got there."

Jessie patted Sherlock, who had taken a defensive stand by her side. "He keeps unwanted visitors away."

Cameron squatted on his haunches in front of Jessie and spoke to Sherlock in a soothing voice, allowing the dog to sniff his hand, finally petting him on the scruff of the neck. "Am I an unwanted visitor, Jess?"

_Oh no. She wanted him and that was the problem in a nutshell_.

"Well, it depends on your intentions," she said. "You come waltzing into town, after being gone for years, and expect me to fall into bed with you. I can't do it, Cameron. I don't know you very well. We went out exactly one time when we were kids. I can't deny the attraction between us, but that's not enough for me. I need more, and I don't think you're willing to give it."

_There._ She'd said her piece and unburdened her heart. Now, Cameron would go back to Houston and she'd never see him again. Never feel his arms around her . . . never lie in bed with him . . .

Cameron rose to his feet and grasped her by the shoulders. An odd expression played across his handsome face. What was he thinking?

Why couldn't she just invite him in the house and let tomorrow take care of itself? She was good at that--taking one day at a time. But somehow, she didn't think it would work in this situation. Guarding her heart was paramount.

"I didn't come to town to seduce you into bed," he said. "I came home for my mother's birthday."

Jessie's legs trembled. She grabbed hold of his forearms, feeling the strong tendons beneath her sensitive fingers, the roughness of the hair covering his skin.

The pressure on her shoulders increased, as Cameron supported her weight. "I won't lie to you, Jess. You know I want you. I wanted you the night of the prom. I want you now. But you have a valid point. We don't know each other very well."

Dropping his hands to his sides, he backed away. Jessie stifled a moan and locked her knees in place, willing them to keep her upright. _Just ask him in, Jess. Don't think about tomorrow._

"Cameron?" Her voice sounded strange to her ears; her pulse pounded in her throat. She was about to do something totally against her nature. She couldn't let him walk away forever. Not again.

He raised an eyebrow in question, his eyes dilating with desire. The force of the passion radiating between them hit Jessie like a bowling ball crashing down an alley, laying all the pins flat. Her lungs refused to operate and she gasped for breath. One touch from him and she'd be flat on her back like those pins, and to hell with tomorrow.

Before she could speak, Cameron placed a finger on her lips and shook his head. "No. You're right; we do need to get better acquainted. I want to know you inside and out, backward and forward, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. And everything in between."

Jessie stood mesmerized by the subtle love words and the light pressure of his finger on her lips. Her body craved contact. She remembered the taste of his mouth and wanted to taste it again. Good grief, the man was lethal.

"I won't be here very long," he said. "Let's go out tomorrow night. No pressure, just go out and have fun. You can catch me up on things here, and I'll tell you about Houston and my practice."

Jessie smiled. "You really do enjoy being a doctor, don't you? You had it all planned out when you were young and you made it happen." She hadn't been part of his plans back then. Last night, he'd said he'd almost changed them because of her. Somehow she didn't really believe him.

"Yes, I love being a doctor," he said. "What about tomorrow night, Jess?"

"Where would we go?" She was stalling for time because she wasn't certain where this would lead, how it would end. He wanted her in bed and she wanted him. But then what? He'd return to Houston, she'd be in Salt Fork . . . she'd been through it all before.

"How about Billie G's?" he said. "We could have a few beers. Play some pool."

Jessie shook her head. The honky-tonk up on the Caprock was popular, but not one of her favorite places. "I don't drink much, and I've never really liked pool."

"Then how about a movie?" Cameron wanted to spend time with Jessie and not just in bed. The more he saw of her, the more he realized how much he'd missed by leaving all those years ago. He traced his fingers along Jessie's jaw, over her collarbone, down her arm.

She shuddered deliciously beneath his touch. Cameron dropped his hand to his side when she stepped away. He forced himself not to grab her and kiss her till she moaned.

"The closest theater is in Cactus Gap, remember?" Jessie swiped her hair back from her face. Cameron wanted to bury his hands in the silky threads. He wanted to bury himself inside her body.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to concentrate on her words instead of the husky tone of her voice. "Right. Cactus Gap's fifty miles away."

"Afraid your car won't make it that far?" Her green eyes widened as soon as the words left her mouth. She'd set herself up and knew it.

Cameron grinned. "No problem. I'll be with one of the best mechanics in Texas. I'm sure she wouldn't leave me stranded."

Jessie laughed.

"I like it when you laugh." Cameron stepped closer and reached for her, thankful she didn't pull away. "I like kissing you, too. I want to kiss you, Jess. I _need_ to kiss you."

The laughter died in Jessie's throat when his lips brushed hers. His words touched something deep inside. The kiss was gentle, very different from the passionate one they'd shared last night. Before she had time to respond, Cameron released her. He searched her eyes as if looking for something.

"Will you go to the movies with me?" he asked softly.

Jessie couldn't speak, still trying to recover from the kiss. She thought he sounded almost hesitant. Like her answer mattered to him a lot. Finally, she just nodded.

Cameron smiled. "Good. When I see you tomorrow for the tour of your clinic, we'll finalize the plans."

Jessie stood in the lamplight after he drove away. She traced her lips with one finger. The gentle kiss they'd shared had been different, nothing like she'd ever experienced before. Especially with Cameron McCade.

****

The next morning, Jessie rolled herself on the creeper underneath Mrs. Jones's late model SUV and loosened the oil plug. Placing a pan to catch the oil, she mentally willed the black fluid to drain quickly. It was eleven-thirty and she was starving. She hadn't eaten any breakfast. She'd still been shaken by the gentleness of Cameron's kiss the night before. The man confused the hell out of her.

The oil flow stopped and Jessie quickly changed the filter. Wiping her hands on a grease rag, she rolled herself out from under the vehicle. Before she knew what was happening, she was lifted from the creeper and held in Cameron's strong arms. Amused blue eyes stared down at her from beneath his Stetson, and she was certain she had oil on her cheeks. She tried to wipe it away.

Low laughter rumbled in Cameron's throat. He took the rag in one hand, her chin in the other. "You're just making it worse. Let me do it."

Jessie tried to quiet the tremulous pounding of her heart. The firm pressure from Cameron's fingers on her chin warmed her skin and a delicious heat spread downward. A hunger of a different sort made her lean toward him.

_Careful, Jess_. She grabbed the rag to finish the job herself and stepped away, forgetting about the creeper on the floor. One minute she was falling; the next, she was safely in Cameron's arms again. He held her tightly against the length of his body. But Jessie knew she wasn't safe at all. In fact, she was in too much danger for her peace of mind.

She pushed out of the embrace and desperately tried to get hold of her wayward emotions. "Thanks for catching me."

"My pleasure," he said with a wink.

Prickles of awareness rose on the nape of her neck at the sound of his low, seductive voice. Jessie bent down, picked up her baseball cap and jammed it on her head. She felt like a clumsy fool. Not only for tripping over the cart, but for her lack of control to Cameron's touch.

The look of raw hunger on his face froze Jessie on the spot. What _was_ this thing between them? It grew stronger each time they were together.

Jessie tossed the grease rag in the trash barrel. "I didn't expect to see you for another hour. Has something come up?"

Cameron stuffed his hands in his pockets. Something had definitely come up, but it wouldn't be polite to mention it, especially when he had promised Jessie he wouldn't put pressure on her. "Actually, I couldn't wait any longer to see you again. So, I brought lunch. I thought we could go to the roadside park and have a picnic, before you showed me your clinic."

Jessie melted a little inside. How sweet. "Shouldn't you be spending this time with your family?"

"I rode out with Dallas early this morning to inspect the cattle, then visited with Mom at breakfast. I promise you, she didn't mind at all when I said I wanted to have lunch with you. In fact, she packed a basket for us."

"I hope Ruth isn't getting any ideas." Jessie was trying not to get any ideas either.

Cameron smiled. "Mom's always getting ideas. You know how she is. You _are_ hungry, aren't you? I stopped by the cafe. There's two pieces of Sarah Sue's carrot cake for dessert."

Jessie's stomach growled in response and she laughed. "You sure know how to tempt a woman. Let me wash up." She turned on her heel and ran to the office, blushing at her unruly tongue.

_Know how to tempt a woman?_ Good grief, what would she say next? She hadn't missed the flash of heat in Cameron's eyes.

After slipping out of her coveralls and making sure her sweater and slacks were okay, she ran a comb through her hair and grabbed her purse. She scribbled a note for Sam to finish Mrs. Jones's SUV when he came back from his break, which would be any minute now.

Jessie hurried outside. The look of admiration on Cameron's face generated a warm sensation in the pit of her stomach. Since she was an expert at compartmentalizing her troubles, she banished all worries and doubts to the back of her mind and decided to enjoy Cameron's company today.

****

Cameron waited with arms folded, leaning against his car, watching Jessie's approach. She had exchanged her coveralls for a pair of pants that outlined her shapeliness and a sweater that teased his imagination.

He dug his keys from his pocket, glad to release some of the tension from his tight jeans. Since coming to the ranch, he'd been in a constant state of arousal. That in itself was exciting and new. For the past decade, his schedule had been so tight and hectic, he hadn't had much time to pursue the ladies, no matter what his mother thought. He'd essentially put his libido on hold, but Jessie had certainly awakened it.

She stopped in front of him with a smile on her lips. "Ready?"

_Oh yeah_. "That didn't take long," he said. On impulse, he held out the keys. "Why don't you drive?"

Jessie's green eyes widened with delight. "You trust me with your Jag?"

"Sure, I trust you." He tossed her the keys and she caught them to her chest, the movement pushing her breasts against the plush fabric of her sweater. Cameron swallowed hard. Quickly, he walked to the driver's side and opened the door. "I trusted you to repair the fan belt, didn't I? And since you're intimately acquainted with the engine, you deserve the chance to drive the car."

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Not in this lifetime."

Jessie's eyes crinkled with humor. She climbed in the driver's seat and closed the door.

Cameron slid in on the passenger side and buckled his seat belt. Her impish expression made her look about fifteen again. He felt the old familiar tug toward her combined with something dangerously new.

She hesitated a moment, then inserted the key and the motor roared to life. Jessie let out a sigh of contentment. Throwing a mischievous look his way, she floored the gas pedal and the car zoomed onto the gray pavement heading out of town.

"Better slow down," Cameron said. "You don't want to get a ticket."

"This car wasn't made to go slow." She revved the engine and shot past the city limits.

"I never figured you for a speed demon." He flipped a switch on the console and the roof of the Jaguar folded back. A clear blue West Texas sky appeared above their heads.

Jessie laughed and leaned back against the headrest. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"I'd like the chance to find out." Cameron watched her in fascination. Her laughter stoked a fire deep within. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to trail kisses along her neck and down her collarbone. When she turned to look at him, inviting him to share her joy, he planted a quick kiss on her smiling lips, pulling away before she had time to respond.

"Cameron!" The car jerked slightly to the right. Immediately, Jessie corrected the angle of the wheels, keeping her concentration on the road.

"Sorry, couldn't resist." He realized he was having a good time and really enjoying himself. No feeling of restlessness, only the pleasant hum of anticipation.

Jessie shook her head, trying to frown, but couldn't. Her hair whipped across her face and her eyes danced with pleasure.

Before long, the roadside park came into view. She pulled up beside the awning-covered tables and handed the keys to Cameron. "Thank you. It was everything I dreamed it would be and more."

Cameron crammed the keys into his pocket, then snagged the picnic basket from the floorboard. Jessie's husky voice, the words she'd spoken, sparked erotic images in his overheated brain. Silently, he counted to ten. _Slow down, McCade_.

Setting the basket on one of the concrete tables, he walked toward the lookout point, where Jessie stood gazing at the view. The park was located on the edge of a deep rocky gorge stretching and twisting as far as the eye could see. Striations of red rock and white gypsum contrasted with the green of mesquite trees and sagebrush. The Double Mountains stood on the horizon, majestic in their height and splendor.

Jessie sighed and held out her hand to Cameron. He hesitated. The gesture invited an intimacy, a closeness he had avoided all his life. He took hold of it gingerly.

She squeezed his hand. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Breathtaking," he said, staring at Jessie's profile, admiring the perfection of her features.

Glancing at him, she blushed and tried to remove her hand from his grasp, but he wouldn't let her.

"I meant the gorge and the mountains," she said.

"I'd rather look at you." He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed each one in turn. Her breath hitched and his body tightened.

She allowed him to finish, before pulling her hands away, dropping them to her sides and knotting them into fists. Clearing her throat, she turned and walked to the picnic table. "What did your mother pack for us? I'm starved." Her voice trembled slightly.

Cameron followed and stood behind her, close enough to feel the heat from her body.

Something about Jessie drew him like a magnet. He didn't want to analyze it; he just wanted to enjoy it. Inhaling her fresh clean fragrance, he touched his lips to her hair. "There's fried chicken, fresh biscuits, and a thermos of hot coffee," he said softly in her ear.

Jessie jerked away and retreated to the other side of the table and lifted her chin. "Look, Cameron. This might be your idea of taking it slow and easy, but it sure isn't mine. Maybe you don't have a problem going to bed with me, knowing we won't be seeing each other again, but I can't do it."

She stood across the table from him, her eyes asking questions he was unable to answer. He knew he felt different about Jessie, but he wasn't ready to explore those differences right now. Seeing her again was having a weird effect on him. The years seemed to have melted away, making him behave like an eighteen-year-old with raging hormones. Ever since he'd pulled into her service station the other night, he'd been acting on raw feelings and impulses.

Definitely not his style. He needed to think things through. Not only about Jessie and what he was feeling for her, but also about what he was going to do about the promotion and his future.

"Jess, I'm sorry--"

"You better take me back to the garage," she said.

"What about the clinic? You said you'd give me a tour. I'd really like to see it."

Jessie stood beside the picnic table, indecision warring inside. She suddenly realized the only thing Cameron felt for her was plain old lust. She'd been fantasizing about forever after, a happy ending to her Cinderella fairy-tale night at the prom, and all he wanted was sex.

So much for old dreams, she thought with a sigh. But he could help make one of her new dreams come true--the Salt Fork Medical Clinic.

She'd never planned anything in so much detail as she had in making the clinic in Salt Fork a reality. There had always been setbacks in most of her plans in the past. She'd been walking on eggshells every step of the way in her attempt to get this clinic up and running.

She stared at Cameron across the table. Could she ignore her attraction for him in order to pick his brains about what was needed for a rural medical clinic?

If she wanted to move on with her life, she really had no choice.

"Jess, I'm sorry I've been coming on too strong," he said. As always, his deep voice oozed over her, turning her bones to jelly. "Let's start over. Can you forgive me and share this picnic with me? Then, I want to see your clinic. You said you needed my advice about it."

That certainly was true, she thought.

"And I promise to keep my hands to myself."

Jessie sighed, and then nodded slowly. Lifting a leg over the bench, she sat at the concrete table. "All right. We'll start over."

"Okay, then." Cameron removed his Stetson, set it on the table and took a seat across from her. He filled a paper plate with a crispy chicken leg and golden biscuit and handed it to her. Then he poured a steaming cup of coffee from the thermos and set it in front of her.

Jessie bit into the piece of chicken, not really tasting it. Her appetite was gone again. Keeping her head down, she covertly watched Cameron fill a plate for himself. He broke a biscuit in two, popping half into his mouth, chewing slowly, gazing intently at her.

Why did he have to be so handsome? Why was she so attracted to him? Why was her life always so complicated? She didn't need this kind of complication right now. She was hanging on by a thread financially. She certainly didn't need to be hanging emotionally, too.

"Mom told me you're having money troubles."

Jessie swallowed wrong and nearly choked.

"Are you okay?" Cameron asked, a look of concern crossing his face. He shoved her cup closer. "Here, take a drink."

She sipped the coffee and scorched her tongue. Damn, she needed to get her act together. Taking three deep breaths, Jessie looked at Cameron. "Ruth told you I was having money troubles?"

He shrugged and popped the other half of his biscuit into his mouth. "She's worried about you. So is Dallas."

Jessie took another sip of coffee, cautiously this time. "I just _bet_ Dallas is worried about me."

"Why do you say that?"

"He hasn't told you?"

Cameron selected another piece of chicken from the picnic basket. "He said you've leased the mineral rights on the Devine place, and that you own a large portion of the mineral rights on the Diamondback Ranch. He's afraid you'll lease them to Copper River Oil Company."

"Did he also tell you that I promised I wouldn't, unless absolutely necessary?" She bit into one of Ruth's homemade biscuits and even though it melted in her mouth, she couldn't enjoy it because her stomach was twisted into knots.

"That's what they're afraid of. If you're so short on cash, you might be forced to lease them."

Jessie took a sip of coffee. What could she say? That was exactly her predicament, and her options were fast running out.

"Jess, you aren't going to lease them, are you?"

Once again, Cameron's smooth voice washed over her, causing tingles along her nerve endings. Why couldn't things be different? Why did she always feel guilty and regretful?

"Jess?"

She took a deep breath. "Ruth's right. If I don't come up with some money, I could lose my garage. I can't let that happen."

"Why don't you sell the mineral rights to Dallas?"

Jessie grabbed a napkin and concentrated on wiping her fingers. "I promised TR I would never sell them." Especially to the McCades, but she couldn't say that.

"Why not? Dallas would pay good money. He doesn't want anyone drilling on the ranch, Jess."

She crushed the napkin in her hand. "I can't sell them. I promised."

"You're stubborn, aren't you?"

Jessie shrugged a shoulder. "A promise is a promise, Cameron. I always keep my promises."

He narrowed his eyes. "You promised my mom you wouldn't lease those rights. Looks like you're going to break that promise."

Jessie swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yes, and it's killing me, all right? I can't lose my dad's garage. I need that money."

"So, you've already signed the papers?"

Could she feel any more miserable? Heaving a sigh, Jessie nodded. "Everything's in place. One phone call, and it's a done deal. I don't want to make that call, but I can't see my way out of this money mess without leasing those mineral rights."

"Have you told my mother?"

"No, not yet. I'll give her fair warning and tell her before it actually goes into effect. Please don't tell Ruth or Dallas any of this. I want to tell them myself. Who knows? Maybe something will turn up, and I won't have to make that phone call."

"That's not likely, though."

Her stomach cratered. "No. I've pretty well used up all my resources."

Cameron continued eating, his eyes focused on her.

What was he thinking? Was he angry with her? All of the McCades, even Cameron, loved the Diamondback Ranch. It was in their blood. Just like Kincaid's Garage was in hers.

Jessie pushed her plate away.

"Not hungry?" Cameron asked.

She shook her head.

"How about the cake?"

"No, thanks. But you go ahead."

"We'll save it for later. Let's clean up here, and then you can show me the clinic."

"You still want to see it?"

He gathered the paper plates and food, throwing everything into the basket. "Yeah, why not?"

"I thought . . . never mind."

Jessie screwed the top onto the thermos and handed it to him. The fleeting touch of his fingers reignited the undeniable awareness between them. She quickly relinquished her hold.

Cameron stood, picked up the basket and waited for her. With a heavy heart, Jessie rose from the table. Damn, she hated having to break her promise to Ruth. It made her sick thinking about it.

"Jess?"

She shook away the morose thoughts and looked up. Cameron stood very close and the look in his eyes made her breath hitch in her lungs. He touched her cheek gently, tracing her jaw line.

All of a sudden, he froze and dropped his hand, then cleared his throat. "I know you have to do whatever it takes to save your father's garage. Don't worry about Dallas and Mom. They'll eventually come around. Things will work out. They always do, one way or another."

Jessie swallowed back the tears threatening to spill. "Thanks, Cameron."

He grabbed his Stetson and jammed it on his head. "Hey, what are old friends for? Now, let's go see this clinic of yours."

### CHAPTER FIVE

Cameron followed Jessie into the new metal building across the street from the high school. The sign out front read _Salt Fork Medical Center._ As soon as he stepped foot inside the door, he had a strange feeling of _this is it_. Calmness settled over him, the likes of which he'd never experienced in his entire life.

Maybe he'd wake up and find himself in his bed in Houston, all of this just a pleasant dream.

"Well, what do you think?" Jessie stood near the reception window, a nervous look in her eye. "I tried to choose colors that were restful and reassuring. When people come in sick and feeling out of sorts, I thought the soft green and cream colors would comfort them."

Cameron nodded. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was the color scheme making him feel calm and relaxed. "Works for me."

Jessie let out a huge breath and smiled. "I know the chairs aren't fancy and the pine tables are plain, but I did the best I could with the available funds."

"It's perfect, Jess. The waiting room is functional as well as inviting. Not your typical clinic at all. I like it."

When she smiled again, his chest constricted. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted her, period.

"Good," she said. "Wait till you see the medical equipment. No corners cut in that department, I assure you."

Cameron didn't expect much, but when he saw the X-ray machine, the MRI and the ultrasound units, he was duly impressed. "Nice. You have a great set-up here: State-of-the-art medical technology right at the doctor's fingertips. You do this all yourself?"

"Mostly. I visited several clinics in Abilene and Lubbock to see what they had. Research, you know."

Cameron ran his hand over the MRI unit. "You did well. Very well."

"Thanks. Let me show you the rest."

The industrial grade carpet muted their footsteps as Jessie gave him the tour of the three examination rooms, a small lab to study blood and urine samples, a spacious office for the doctor, a lunchroom and laundry room.

After making the entire circuit, they ended back in the reception area. The dark green Formica counters gleamed brightly. Two brand new computers stood waiting on the desks. A large copy machine was flanked by a wall filled with multicolored files.

"So, what do you think?" Jessie asked.

Cameron ran his hand over the wall files, then turned toward her. " _Wow_ is what I say _._ You have everything but the doctors, nurses and patients. I can't imagine what advice you need from me."

Jessie leaned a hip on the counter and crossed her arms. "Now that you've seen the clinic, I was hoping you could recommend a doctor who might be willing to relocate and practice rural medicine. Or maybe tell me how to go about finding such a doctor. The pay's not great and a lot of the patients will be self-employed and won't have insurance."

Cameron could just imagine the waiting room full of farmers and ranchers, their wives and children, the quiet hum of conversation, the rustle of magazines being read by people waiting their turn to see the doctor.

He could picture the bustle of the staff, taking calls and filling out reports. Nurses weighing in patients and escorting them to the examination rooms.

And surprisingly, Cameron could see himself wearing his white coat with a stethoscope around his neck, listening to patients' hearts and looking in ears and throats. Making quick diagnoses and writing prescriptions. Happily practicing medicine and not worrying about hospital politics. Hell, maybe even having time for a social life.

With Jessie.

"Cameron? Can you recommend anyone?" Her soft voice jerked him from his daydreams.

He exhaled a long breath. "I'll ask around and see if anyone might be interested. Give me a little time." It wouldn't do to tell her he was interested. He wasn't certain he was ready to make such a radical switch in his career. He wasn't certain of a lot of things, lately.

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

After looking around one last time, Cameron followed Jessie out of the building. The brisk wind knocked off his Stetson. He caught it before it tumbled to the ground.

Jessie chuckled as she stood by his car. That familiar heat simmered low in his belly. He was aware of her green eyes on him as he opened the car door. Yeah, he wanted her. But he also wanted something more.

Somewhere along the way and through the years, he'd gotten off track. He'd turned into someone he didn't know. Someone he didn't really like.

Coming back home, seeing Jess again, and touring the clinic made Cameron decide that it was definitely time for a new plan.

****

The ride back to the garage was a quiet one. The silence in the car hung heavy. Showing Cameron the clinic had reminded Jessie of one of her most secret wishes. At first, she'd wanted the clinic built to assuage some of the guilt she felt about her husband. She'd thought a clinic with a doctor and nurse on staff could help save lives and that would make up for her ruining TR's life.

Okay, maybe she hadn't really ruined his life. But Jess felt she'd taken more from the marriage than her fair share. She'd failed to give TR the children he longed for. And she hadn't loved him as she should have. Building the clinic in his honor was her penance.

But as she got more involved in the plans and details, as she saw the clinic become a reality, Jessie couldn't help wishing that Cameron would come back and be the resident physician in Salt Fork.

Yeah, like that was going to happen.

When they reached the garage, Jessie started to unfasten her seat belt.

Cameron covered her hand. "Jess, about tonight--"

She'd forgotten about their date. She didn't think she could continue seeing Cameron, fighting the attraction, and feeling the guilt. Her heart would break when he left for Houston. Whether or not she gave in to this consuming passion, her heart would surely break.

"I don't think it's a good idea for us to go out tonight." Even though she said the words, her hand trembled beneath his. She slowly removed it from his grasp.

Cameron frowned. "Why? I thought we were starting over?"

"We are . . . we were . . . but I think it's best if we don't go out tonight." All she wanted was to crawl in a hole and hide away until the dull ache in her chest subsided.

"Why not? I told you I'd keep my hands to myself. Let's go out as friends. Two old friends, catching up on times past."

Who was he trying to kid? Jessie shook her head. "I can't be 'just friends' with you. The chemistry's too strong. I think it's better if we don't see each other again."

"We have to see each other again," he said.

"No we don't."

"Obviously, you've forgotten about tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" It was Jessie's turn to frown. Was the man dense? Couldn't he tell when he'd been given the brush off?

"The party," he said. "My mother's birthday?"

Jessie groaned. She'd forgotten all about Ruth's party. Most of the town would be there. She'd have to go. Perhaps she could avoid Cameron in the crowd. She summoned up a smile. "Of course . . . your mother's party. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"All right then," he said. "The party starts at four. I'll pick you up at three-thirty."

"I'll drive over myself." Jessie tried again to unbuckle her seatbelt, this time succeeding and freeing herself. Suddenly, she felt her wrist enclosed in a strong grasp. Not so free, after all.

Looking at Cameron's large hand, her thoughts ran wild. She longed to feel that hand skimming the entire length of her body, exploring, touching her, loving her. She longed to give in to the overwhelming chemistry they'd always shared.

But afterwards, she'd only feel worse. He wasn't staying, he was going back to Houston.

She tugged her hand and he tightened his fingers, pulling her toward him. Cameron rubbed the underside of her wrist with his thumb. Tiny rivulets of sensation shot up her arm.

"Why do you keep running from me?" he asked softly.

Jessie licked her parched lips and stared at Cameron's mouth. That was a mistake. She wanted that mouth on her body, too. She jerked her hand away and scrambled out of the car. "Maybe it's not you I'm running from."

****

Jessie stood near the punch bowl, sipping a fruit-flavored drink. She watched as couples whirled by, dancing the Texas Two-Step to the lively country music blaring from a vintage jukebox. Around the edge of the wooden dance platform, gaily-colored lanterns twinkled brightly. Ruth's birthday party was well underway.

The weather had cooperated for once, the temperature was unusually warm for late October and perfect for an outdoor gathering. Half the town had shown up for the festivities. The Diamondback Ranch was famous for its lavish barbecues and parties.

So far, Jessie had managed to avoid Cameron. All afternoon, he had helped Dallas and Austin oversee the smoking barbecue pits. When he wasn't helping his brothers, he stopped to chat with friends and neighbors. Everyone was glad to see him again.

Throughout the evening, Jessie caught glimpses of Cameron as he interacted with his mother's guests. He hadn't once approached her. But the hungry looks he cast her way every now and then, made her stomach flutter with anticipation and dread. She needed to keep him at arm's length. She owed TR that much. Now that dinner was over, maybe it was time to go home.

Jessie ladled more punch into her cup. She wasn't ready to leave just yet. It had been a long time since she'd been to a party. One more drink, then she would call it a night.

"Hey, Jess, pour me one, will you?" Tori McCade stuck her cup under the ladle Jessie was still holding.

"Sure thing," Jessie said. She'd always liked Cameron's baby sister. Only she wasn't a baby any longer. "Haven't seen you in a while. How's veterinarian school going?"

Tori shrugged and sipped her drink. "It's going. I just wish I could hurry up and graduate. Old Doc Pritchard is ready to retire and he's asked me to take over his veterinarian practice here in Salt Fork."

"That's great."

"Yeah, but I have three more years of school left." Tori set her cup down, leaned her elbows on the table and watched the dancers. "It seems like forever."

"It'll go by quicker than you think."

"So speaks the old wizened one."

Jessie grinned. Tori always teased her about being older. They'd been friends for a long time. "You should listen to your elders."

Tori snorted. "Right."

Jessie tapped her foot in time to the music. The dance floor was packed. She smiled when she saw Austin McCade trying to teach his young daughter to dance. It had been ten years since his wife had died, and the man was still grieving. But he was doing a fine job raising Kelsey alone.

Only he wasn't alone, Jessie thought. He had the support of his family to see him through. He was lucky in that respect.

The McCades were good people. Just look at Dallas dancing with his mother. The big taciturn rancher was actually smiling.

Jessie sighed. Dallas wouldn't be smiling when he found out she was going to lease the mineral rights on the Diamondback Ranch. Ruth wouldn't be smiling either.

Tori suddenly straightened from her crouch over the table and poured herself another drink. "I heard you broke a date with Cameron last night."

Jessie nearly choked on her punch. News sure got around fast. "Did he tell you that?"

"No, Mother told me. But I knew something was up the way he was pacing around the living room after dinner, grouchy as a bear. Why'd you break the date? You were only going to the movies, for crying out loud."

"It's complicated. You know how I've always felt about him." Jessie never could figure out how Tori knew, but she did.

"Exactly. And now's your chance."

"Not much of a chance. He isn't here to stay."

"Did you show him the clinic?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And nothing."

"Well, damn."

"It was a long shot . . ."

"Don't give up, okay? I've only been home since yesterday, but I've noticed Cameron is even more restless and unsettled than ever. He must be going through a mid-life crisis."

"Oh right, Tori. He's only thirty-five."

"Okay, a _pre-_ mid-life crisis, then."

"Whatever you say--"

"Hey, it could be true. Lots of doctors get burned out at an early age. Or they become dissatisfied with the health care system and all the red tape with the insurance companies."

"And you know this how?"

"I'm in grad school. I know. I'm going to be a doctor, too."

"A veterinarian is a whole different animal."

"Oh, that's good," Tori said.

Jessie shrugged, picked up the ladle again and refilled their cups. "Here, have some more punch."

"Pretty good, isn't it?"

"It has an unusual flavor. I can't quite place it."

Tori laughed. Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "I spiked it."

"For heaven's sake, why? There's a bar inside."

"Hey, I thought it would be fun. Some of these people really need to loosen up."

"You're getting too old to play these kinds of pranks."

"I'm not the old one here."

"I'm not old, either." Jessie dissolved into giggles. "No wonder I'm feeling light-headed."

"How many cups have you had?" Tori asked with a smile. "I think you're tipsy.

"Who's tipsy?" Sam Garza walked up to the table.

Tori stopped smiling. She plunked her cup down and turned her shoulder. "I better see if Mother needs me," she said, rushing toward the house.

Jessie looked at Sam, who was staring after Tori. "I can't imagine what's gotten into her. She usually isn't rude."

"It doesn't matter," Sam said. "Do you want to dance?"

She loved to dance, but really she needed to get home. So far, she'd been successful in avoiding Cameron, but her luck wouldn't last forever. One dance, then she'd leave.

Smiling at Sam, she said, "I'd love to."

Sam held her in a firm grasp. He set a fast pace, circling the platform, dancing the Texas Two-Step. Jessie held on with a fierce grip; the punch, as well as the swift turns, made her head spin.

When the music stopped, Jessie's head kept twirling. She stumbled and Sam placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her steady.

"Thanks," she said. "I'll be all right in a minute."

He narrowed his eyes. "Have you been drinking?"

Jessie hiccupped. "Only punch."

" _Only punch?_ Are you sure?"

Jessie nodded and laughed. "Tori spiked it."

Sam's lips curved in a reluctant smile. "That little witch."

"A charming little witch, don't you think?"

"Much too charming," he said with a frown.

Jessie felt Sam's fingers dig into her shoulders for just an instant. His dark brown eyes held secrets.

"Thanks for the dance." Jessie backed away, but Sam didn't release her. Another song played on the jukebox. Couples swayed to the slow melody.

"How about one more?" he asked.

Jessie hesitated, then nodded. What the hell? One more dance couldn't hurt, could it?

Sam pulled her closer, but not too close. That's what she liked about Sam. She felt safe with him.

Without conscious thought, Jessie laid her head against his shoulder. She felt him stiffen and looked up, wondering if she'd crossed some invisible barrier. Before she could ask what was wrong, a strong hand encircled her waist, turning her away from Sam.

"I believe this is _my_ dance." Cameron's voice sent shivers down Jessie's spine. His intense stare made her swallow hard.

"Maybe the lady doesn't want to dance with you." Sam stood his ground, not relinquishing his hold on Jessie.

The tension crackled between the two men. Cameron's touch kindled dormant fires, and her traitorous body responded instantly. She reminded herself about TR and what she owed him, but TR was gone. Cameron was here. More than anything in the world, Jessie wanted to be held in his arms. One time. _One last time._

"It's okay, Sam," she said.

He glared at Cameron. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

Immediately, Cameron swept her away. No words were spoken; none were needed. Cameron's eyes never left Jessie's as he held her close. With every movement of the dance, his muscular legs caressed the length of her thighs. Locking his arm around her shoulders, he grasped the nape of her neck. He caught her hand, interlacing her fingers intimately with his.

Jessie remembered him kissing her fingers, one by one. Had that only been yesterday? Cameron was holding her so tightly, she felt his arousal pressing into her and from the look in his eyes, he knew exactly what he was doing.

After circling the floor twice, he clasped Jessie's head into his shoulder, brushing his lips against her hair. His hot breath scorched the sensitive shell of her ear.

Time rolled back and Jessie remembered another dance with Cameron McCade in a darkened gym on prom night. He'd held her close then, too. And her young body had responded with alarming enthusiasm.

But that innocent dance so long ago couldn't compare to what Jessie was feeling now.

Cameron's heart pounded in time to her own. Nothing existed for Jessie except the powerful arms around her, and the musky scent of the man holding her.

When the song ended, he took her by the elbow and led her away into the night. He was breathing hard, walking fast. Jessie had to run to keep up with him. She tried to free her arm, but Cameron ignored her.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" she whispered furiously, glancing back at the diminishing lights surrounding the dance floor.

"I'm taking you someplace where we can be alone. We _need_ to be alone."

Cameron pulled Jessie to the side of the huge implement barn, away from prying eyes. He held her for a moment, hugging her close. "I've wanted to do this all evening."

The savage yearning in his voice flowed over Jessie like a blanket of pure desire. An answering ache in the pit of her stomach begged for fulfillment. Tori's punch clouded all reason. Jessie's body burned for one man; she had always burned for one man. He was here, holding her, wanting her.

Cameron touched her cheek, sliding his fingers into her hair, tangling them in the silky bonds. With infinite gentleness, he brought her lips close to his mouth. She felt his breath mingle with hers. The effects of the punch, combined with the intoxicating nearness of Cameron's body, pushed all thoughts of resistance to the back of Jessie's mind.

When his lips finally sought her mouth, she locked her arms around him and gave herself up to the pleasures of the kiss. This would be all she could have. She would not, could not betray TR's memory. This kiss would have to last her for the rest of her lonely life.

Cameron didn't know why Jessie had changed her mind about resisting him. Right now, he didn't care. All that mattered was that she was arching her back, pressing her soft breasts against his chest, clinging to him and responding deliciously to his kisses. They fit together perfectly. He longed to bury himself in her, feel her warmth surround him. He desperately wanted to lie down with her.

Scooping her up in his arms, he kicked open the barn door. Moonlight shone through the upper windows, revealing the hulky shadows of tractors and trailers. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, and he walked to the back where a mountain of soft cottonseed stood. Carefully, he laid Jessie down and stretched out beside her. He rolled over and covered her body with his. He kissed away her small moan of protest, assaulting her senses with renewed passion.

The fresh smell of cottonseed blending with Jessie's perfume drove Cameron wild. He ravaged her mouth, plunging his tongue deep within, tasting her fully.

She'd worn a long, baby blue dress to the party. The dress had bewitched him all day. There were no buttons in back or front, only snaps on one side, starting from under the arm down to the alluring curve of her hip. All afternoon and throughout the evening, those snaps had tantalized his imagination.

Shifting his weight, Cameron tucked a knee between Jessie's legs. The flowing skirt allowed easy access. She parted her thighs and raised her hips, gently rubbing against his iron hard length. Beads of sweat broke out on Cameron's forehead. He forced himself to slow down and fought for control. Jessie's movements were pushing him close to the edge. He deepened the kiss and explored her sweetness. His hands searched out every secret of her luscious body.

Supporting himself on one elbow, Cameron undid the snaps of the enticing blue dress one by one. He slipped a hand under the loosened fabric and eased the lacy edge of Jessie's bra downward, exposing her breasts to his questing fingertips. He cupped the firm flesh in his palm, relishing the silkiness of her skin. She felt heavy and full. God, he had to see her, taste her. He had to get rid of these clothes.

Jerking the bodice out of the way, he looked his fill.

"Beautiful, Jess. You're beautiful." He trailed kisses along the swell of one rounded breast, circling the rosy nipple, teasing the base with his tongue. Then he gently licked the tip and blew softly over the wet peak.

Jessie writhed beneath him, arching her back, seeking more. She reached for him and pulled his head closer, straining upward. Cameron hesitated only a fraction of a moment before taking her into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around, sucking the nipple hard. Jessie shook her head from side to side, raising her body toward him. The whimpers in the back of her throat grew stronger and louder. His body flexed in response.

He reached under the full skirt and slipped his hand beneath the elastic band of Jessie's panties. He slid his fingers through the soft curly hair. She was wet and ready for him. When he felt her legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, Cameron's control snapped.

He grasped her bottom with both hands, thrusting against her with urgent need. He tugged at the tiresome panties. "We need to get rid of these, sweetheart."

The low, savage words wrenched Jessie back to reality. _What was she doing?_ She had only wanted one kiss, that's all she could allow herself. How quickly that kiss had spiraled into full-blown passion. Damn Tori and her punch!

Jessie caught Cameron's hand and her panties fell back in place. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other. His heavy-lidded eyes asked a question.

She didn't have the answer. She knew she couldn't blame the punch for her lapse. It was Cameron. It had always been Cameron. They'd felt the attraction when they were kids. But they weren't kids anymore and Cameron wasn't holding anything back. He wanted her.

And God help her, she wanted him. His kisses ignited a raging passion within her. She craved the feel of his hot mouth on her heated skin. She definitely had a weakness when it came to Cameron McCade.

But nothing had changed. He was leaving tomorrow. All he wanted was her body.

Jessie pushed away and jumped to her feet, keeping her eyes lowered. She tried desperately to restore order to her clothing and her emotions. Her fingers fumbled with the snaps. "I don't know what to say . . . I didn't mean to let it go that far."

Cameron grabbed her shoulders, hauling her against his chest, forcing her head back. His eyes blazed with frustration. "What's wrong, Jess? You want this as badly as I do. We're both adults, for Christ's sake."

Jerking out of his strong grasp, Jessie stood her ground. "You just don't get it, do you? There has to be more for me. I don't sleep around."

Cameron took a step closer. "I know you don't. There's something special between us; you know there is. We're good together."

"Yes, we're good together," she said, finally snapping the last snap on the side of the dress. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to restore order to her appearance and to her thrumming body. "So good in fact, you make me forget everything."

"Is that bad?"

"Yes. No . . . I cannot, _will_ not betray TR," she said quietly.

"How can you betray him? He's dead, Jess. Would he want you to stop living? Never enjoy a relationship with another man?"

Jessie shook her head. "No, he wouldn't mind if it were anyone but you."

Cameron's blue eyes widened in surprise. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Smoothing the folds of her long skirt, she brushed cottonseed to the floor. Her emotions were jumbled and so was her brain. _She owed TR a lot. She'd married him without loving him, and she'd never given him children._

Jessie couldn't tell Cameron the real reasons. She couldn't tell him she was afraid. Afraid she was falling in love with him again. Afraid she'd never stopped loving him. Afraid of the guilt and the regret.

Cameron grasped her shoulders again. She tried to wrench away, but he wouldn't let her. "What do you mean, Jess? Why would TR care that it's me?"

Jessie shook her head. "Because he hated your family. He never forgot about the feud."

"What feud? What in the world are you talking about?"

"The feud between your grandfather and TR's."

"Damn, Jess. That's ancient history. It has absolutely nothing to do with you and me."

Her heart ached so badly, she could scarcely breathe. "I'm sorry, Cameron. I just can't do this." She turned and ran out the door and into the night.

He watched her go. She was always running from him. Now he knew why. Had she loved TR so deeply? He ignored the stab of jealousy in his gut. How could he be jealous of a dead man?

Jessie might still love her husband, but she was liquid fire in his arms. Did she feel guilty about the sizzling attraction she felt for him? That must be it, he decided. Guilt was making Jessie run, from him and from life.

No woman had ever affected him like Jessie did. No woman had ever made him lose control like that. His body was strung as taut as a barbed wire fence. Clenching his fists, Cameron willed himself to relax.

If only he could stay longer. If only he didn't have to return to Houston so soon. Maybe he could help Jessie get past the guilt. She was too young to live the rest of her life alone. And there was something about her that touched him deeper than any woman ever had. The thought scared the living hell out of him, but it didn't scare him enough to make him leave her alone.

Mentally scanning his work schedule, he decided he would return to Salt Fork in a few weeks. One way or another, he and Jess would resolve this thing between them. One way or another.

### CHAPTER SIX

On Monday morning, Jessie hurried to the shop and lost herself in work. She'd stayed home all day Sunday, trying not to think about Cameron, whether he had left yet, whether he would stop to say goodbye. She'd prayed he wouldn't. She didn't know how she could face him after what had happened at the party.

She didn't know how she could let him go, either. She was weak, damn it--weak where Cameron was concerned.

With an unspoken agreement, Sam took care of the customers, letting Jessie stay inside the office. She didn't know if he knew what was going on. She didn't explain and was grateful for his silence. Their relationship was simple, not complicated in the least. Why was it so complicated with Cameron?

After lunch, she and Sam were busy working on the carburetor of a customer's truck, when Jessie heard the unmistakable rumble of a diesel motor pull into the station. Her heart lurched for a second when she recognized Dallas McCade's pickup. Then she gave herself a mental shake. It wasn't Cameron; he was already back in Houston.

She glanced at Sam to see if he would take care of Dallas, or whoever had come from the Diamondback Ranch. She was in no mood to face anyone named McCade today. Sam's dark eyes gleamed as he started in the direction of the pumps. Jessie leaned around, curious to see who had sparked his interest, gasping when she realized it was Tori McCade.

Tori seemed a little young for Sam, a little too lively for such a serious man. Jessie turned back to work on the carburetor. Didn't she have enough to worry about? Tori was a big girl and could take care of herself.

After a few minutes, Jessie felt a tap on her shoulder. Tori stood at the front of the truck, peering with disgust at the greasy engine.

"How can you stand to work in all that muck?"

Jessie straightened and wiped her hands. "It's all I've ever known. Besides, I like engines."

Tori wrinkled her nose. "Why did you leave the party early without saying goodbye?"

"I had a headache, thanks to you and your punch."

"Was it the punch, or something else? Or _someone?_ Maybe someone who's six-foot-three, has dark brown hair and blue eyes?"

Jessie stared at Tori. How much did she know? Was it only speculation? Or had Cameron told her something? "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, _please_." Tori rolled her eyes. "Cameron spent a lot of time with you while he was home, or tried to. And I saw him practically drag you to the barn the other night. You were gone a good while. He came back alone and in a foul mood. I can put two and two together. You chickened out again, didn't you?"

Jessie leaned her elbows on the edge of the truck and hung her head. Maybe Cameron had the right idea about living in a large impersonal city. Tori wasn't going to shut up until she had her say. "So what if I did? I told you, it's complicated."

Tori squatted on her haunches and looked up at Jessie's face. "Only because you're making it that way."

"It doesn't matter," Jessie said. "He's gone and won't be back."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Tori said.

"Why not?"

"Yesterday, at breakfast, I mentioned the homecoming celebration next month. Cameron gave me this weird kind of look. He said he'd never been back for homecoming." Tori snorted. "Yeah, like that's a surprise."

"It doesn't mean anything. Him saying that." Jessie couldn't stop the leap in her pulse at the possibility of Cameron returning.

Tori smiled. "I think he'll come back in a couple of weeks, and I don't think it's because of homecoming."

Jessie's pulse slowed down; a heavy sensation gripped the back of her neck. If Cameron returned, it would just prolong the agony.

"What's wrong?" Tori asked. "Aren't you glad Cameron's coming back? You still like him, don't you?"

Just then, Sam walked up, saving Jessie from having to reply.

"The truck's full," he told Tori. "I put it on the account."

Tori looked helplessly at Jessie. "I have to go."

Jessie watched her run to the truck, then eyed Sam with suspicion. "What have you done to that girl?"

Sam started adjusting the jets on the carburetor. "If you don't want me asking questions about your personal life, don't ask about mine."

"That certainly puts me in my place, doesn't it?"

Sam looked up, his dark eyes somber. "I know something's going on between you and McCade. A person would have to be blind not to see. Listen, Jessie. I admire how you've dealt with all the bumps thrown your way. McCade is just another bump. Don't worry so much. You'll deal with it, if you have to, just like you've dealt with all the rest. Hand me that screwdriver, will you?"

Jessie helped Sam finish the repair on the carburetor. His words rebounded in her mind, but he had it all wrong. Cameron wasn't a bump in her life; he was more like a mountain. And she didn't know how she was going to deal with him, or even if she'd get the chance.

****

By the middle of the next week, Jessie didn't have much time to think about Cameron and whether he would come back. Her financial situation had gone from bad to worse. She had fallen behind with the payments to the hospital and they were demanding settlement. Plus, her property taxes were due and she was already in arrears with them.

She had no other choice but to make that phone call to her lawyer and lease the mineral rights she held on the McCade property, so she could get her hands on some ready cash.

After talking to Mr. Bennett, Jessie called Ruth and asked to meet with her. An hour later, she and Cameron's mother were sitting in a booth at Sarah Sue's Café.

"Oh, Jessie, I wanted to thank you for the lovely yarns you gave me for my birthday. I'm going to crochet you an afghan with them."

"I'm glad you like them, but you don't have to make me an afghan. Although, I would love to have one, one of these days."

Ruth reached across the table and patted Jessie's hand. "I want to, dear. Your mother was one of my best friends. And you have a special place in my heart, you know that."

Jessie swallowed a lump in her throat. How would Ruth feel after her confession?

Ruth sat back and stirred her coffee. "Now, what was so all fired important that you had to see me ASAP?" She dropped the spoon and clapped her hands. "Is this about Cameron? Has he asked you to marry him?"

" _What_?" Jessie said, her stomach clenching at the thought. "Why would you think that?"

"He spent quite a bit of time with you while he was at the ranch. And he said he's coming back for homecoming." Ruth shook her gray curls. "But of course, he wouldn't propose over the phone. Never mind, dear. Why did you want to see me?"

Jessie couldn't concentrate for a minute. Her thoughts were tumbling inside her head like juggler's balls gone all awry. What in the world had Cameron said to his mother and his sister? She couldn't deal with that at the moment; she had to tell Ruth what she'd done.

Taking a deep breath, Jessie took the plunge. "I have a confession to make."

Ruth frowned. "What kind of confession?"

"I'm so sorry, but I had to break the promise I made to you. And I'm afraid you're going to hate me when I tell you."

"I could never hate you, dear. Is this about the mineral rights?"

Jessie nodded. "I was forced to lease them to Copper River Oil. I didn't have a choice. I had to have the money, or I'd lose the garage."

"Well, you certainly couldn't do that, could you?"

Jessie sniffed back a tear. "No. It's my last link to my father."

Ruth shoved a napkin at Jessie. "Don't cry, dear. Just because you leased the land, doesn't mean they'll drill. At least, not right away."

"But with the oil situation like it is, they might," Jessie said. "You don't know how sorry I am. I hate breaking my promise."

" _I_ understand, but Dallas will be furious. So will Austin. They both like to be in control of every facet concerning the ranching and agricultural aspects of the Diamondback." Ruth sipped her coffee. "Tyler and Cameron won't mind, too much. Neither will Tori. But Dallas . . ."

"Will you tell him for me?" Jessie blurted out. She usually wasn't a coward, but the thought of confessing to the big rancher made her more than a little queasy.

Ruth stared at her out of the same blue eyes she'd passed on to Cameron. Jessie couldn't tell what she was thinking, but she was obviously thinking hard about something.

Suddenly, Ruth smiled and nodded. "I'll tell him for you, dear. Don't you worry about a thing."

****

The night before the homecoming bonfire, Jessie found herself back at the garage after rushing home for a quick shower and bite to eat. The house had seemed too empty, her thoughts too restless and chaotic. Catching up on paperwork at the office had won out over spending another interminable evening at home.

Working the accounts was a breeze now that the money from the lease had been deposited into the bank. She was operating in the black once again, at least for a while. Ruth had taken the news remarkably well. Jessie wondered how Dallas had taken it.

After she'd settled her most pressing obligations, Jessie had begun thinking about Cameron again. She'd been on pins and needles these past couple of weeks, wondering if he would really come back. And what if he did? Everything was still the same between them. Even though she was afraid he'd stolen her heart again, she knew Cameron wanted nothing more than a roll in the hay. Or cottonseed, she thought with a blush.

All he wanted was a physical relationship. Sharing kisses with him and being left behind was bad enough. God help her, if she gave in to the raging passion between them. If Cameron returned, she hoped she would be strong enough to resist him.

The suspense was killing her. Jessie hadn't seen hide nor hair of a McCade since she'd spoken to Ruth. Surely, Cameron wouldn't come back so soon. He was a busy man. Why would he suddenly want to celebrate homecoming after all these years? She was flattering herself to think she was the lure to draw him home, no matter what Tori or Ruth said.

Just in case, Jessie thought maybe she should leave town, take some time off, avoid seeing him. But she couldn't do that. Not really. Besides, she enjoyed homecoming. Every year, she wrote a piece for the paper, outlining the events, including as many names of folks as she could cram into one article. People loved to see their names in print. It was a challenge to write the article year after year, to make it as interesting as possible. She couldn't let her feelings for Cameron interfere with that.

Tires crunching the pavement outside jolted Jessie from her thoughts. For a moment, she was afraid . . .

_Afraid of what? Geez, Jess. You can't conjure Cameron out of thin air._ She glanced out the window in the door and sighed in relief. Not a Jaguar, but the sheriff's black and white patrol car. Pasting a smile on her face, she went to greet him.

The sheriff touched his fingers to his Stetson. "Evening, Jessie."

"Hey, Roland. Something going on I should know about?"

She watched as he traced the toe of one shiny boot in the loose gravel on the pavement. Jessie's heart sank. She knew what was coming. Roland Burton had been asking her out for over a year. She liked him, but the chemistry wasn't right, at least not on her part.

The blustery November wind blew through her sweat suit. She shivered. "It's awfully cold out here. Why don't we go inside? We can talk over a hot cup of coffee."

"Sounds like a winner to me," he said, following her into the office.

Jessie handed Roland his cup and poured one for herself. She wrapped her cold fingers around the warm ceramic, hoping he'd get to the point soon. She knew it was difficult for him to gather the courage to ask her out and always felt like a heel when she refused his invitations.

The sheriff cleared his throat a couple of times, started to speak, then hurriedly sipped his coffee again. His cheeks were red, whether from embarrassment or the cold weather, Jessie couldn't tell.

Finally, he set his cup down and took a deep breath. "Tomorrow night's the big bonfire," he said in a rush. "I thought that maybe, that is--if you don't have other plans--maybe, you'd like to . . ."

Outside, a car pulled into the station, the tires squealing to a stop. Jessie's stomach plummeted to her feet. She knew who it was before the door opened. Her heart tumbled over when Cameron McCade filled the doorway, his eyes narrowed at the scene he'd interrupted.

An insane desire to hide behind Roland flashed through Jessie's mind. It was a sheriff's sworn duty to protect people, wasn't it? The look on Cameron's face was enough to scare anyone. On second thought, maybe she should try to protect Roland.

The sheriff stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Hello, Cameron. What brings you to town? Didn't think you'd be back so soon."

"I can see that." Cameron shook his hand, but his attention was focused on Jessie.

She hoped he wouldn't crush Roland's hand to a pulp. The menacing tone of his voice was unmistakable. She saw the confusion on Roland's face. The sheriff looked from Cameron to Jessie, then back again. It wasn't long before realization dawned. Snatching his Stetson from the desk, he said goodnight and fled.

The blood pounding in Cameron's head slowed down, and the red before his eyes faded away. He broke out in a cold sweat. _Jealousy and possessiveness_. They were new feelings, strange feelings. If he had any sense, he'd turn and run and never look back. Just like the sheriff.

The atmosphere sizzled in the small office. Jessie stood like a statue, her eyes opened wide. "Why did you come back?" Her raspy voice held a note of accusation.

Cameron also heard anguish in her words. Was he causing Jessie pain? When all he wanted was to hold her in his arms, take her to bed and make love to her until the passion between them was spent?

In two long strides, he was beside her. She backed against the file cabinet. He stepped closer.

"You know why I'm back. We need to finish what we started seventeen years ago." He touched a finger to her cheek, traced the smooth line of her jaw, eased his hand behind her neck and pulled her to him. Her trembling intensified and she put her hands on his chest as if to ward him off.

He caught her hands and moved them over his heart. "Feel my heartbeat, Jess. It's beating for you." He pressed his body against hers. "Feel how much I want you. I tried to stay away, but God help me, I couldn't."

His mouth claimed hers in fierce desire. Jessie moaned, holding back only for a second, knowing deep down that resistance was hopeless. She couldn't help it. She kissed him back, allowing the molten pleasure to seep through her veins. Her arms crept around his neck. For one long moment, she gave in to the encircling warmth and strength of his embrace.

Cameron's hands became more insistent. He was going mad with the need to feel her bare body against his, her silky skin touching him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. He grasped Jessie's bottom and lifted her against him, thrusting his arousal between her thighs. He felt her heat and wanted inside her.

Suddenly, she stiffened. Cameron knew she was remembering. Remembering the reasons why she couldn't do this or _thought_ she couldn't. Inwardly groaning, he leaned his forehead against hers. She tried to wriggle away, but he tightened his arms around her. "Don't run from me, Jess."

"I can't do this . . . I promised . . ." Jessie squeezed her eyes shut. A tear trickled down her cheek.

Cameron kissed it away. He pulled her face into his shoulder and kissed the top of her head. "You're right, sweetheart. We can't do this. Not yet." He handed her a large white handkerchief. "Dry your tears. We need to talk."

Jessie dabbed at her eyes. Cameron's spicy scent clung to the handkerchief, assailing her senses, enticing her back into his arms. She had dreaded his return, but now that he was here, her feelings and emotions were jumbled. Again. She folded the snowy white linen and gave it back. "Okay . . . I'm okay. Let's talk."

Capturing her wrists, Cameron kissed the delicate undersides. He sat on the edge of the desk and drew her between his legs. Jessie felt her cheeks burn and swallowed hard. "I think I'll sit down," she said, diving for the swivel chair.

Cameron squatted beside her and placed his hand on her knee. Jessie gripped the arms of the chair.

"There's something between us, Jess. You feel it; I feel it. You want to ignore it, but I can't. Not anymore. I don't think either of us can ignore it."

"There's nothing between us. There can never be anything between us," Jessie declared vehemently. "Oh God, why did you have to come back? I don't need this."

"Maybe you do need this. I know _I_ do. I went back to Houston and tried to push you out of my mind. I can't sleep, Jess. I'm a bear at work. I can't concentrate. All I can think about is you. Hell, it's as bad or worse than when we were kids. That night, after the prom, as soon as I kissed you, I wanted more."

Jessie hung her head. "You must not have wanted me very much. You left town without saying goodbye."

"I said goodbye up on Lover's Point."

_And took my heart with you_. Why was he telling her this? It only made it worse. It didn't matter that she loved Cameron, had always loved him. He didn't love her. He only wanted her in bed.

Jessie sighed. "We said our goodbyes on Lover's Point and you never looked back. No calls, no letters. A few times you stopped for gas, but even then . . . seventeen years is a long time, Cameron. I tried to forget this _thing_ between us. You made it perfectly clear that I had no place in your life or your plans. I married TR and tried to be a good wife." _Tried, but failed_ , she thought miserably. "Why did you come back? Yes, there's an extraordinary chemistry between us, but what then? I would have thought there were plenty of women in Houston you could . . . you know."

Cameron swore silently. She wasn't making this easy for him. Hell, he wasn't sure why he'd come back.

Seeing her sitting there, chin held high, and knowing that below the surface a fire burned for him, ready to ignite if only she would let him fan it, Cameron was suddenly unsure of everything. Would one night, one week in bed with Jessie be enough? He had a sinking suspicion that he was in over his head and powerless to stop it.

Easing out of the crouch, Cameron leaned both hands on the arms of the chair, effectively trapping Jessie. God, she smelled good. He took her chin in his palm and brushed her lips with his thumb, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away. "We're good together, Jess. You said I make you forget. Let me help you forget. You can't keep living in the past."

"I'm not living in the past."

"Aren't you?" He pulled her to stand in front of him. "I want you so much." He kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear. "I turned my back on you when we were kids. I don't think I can turn back now."

Jessie tilted her head. Cameron's warm lips nibbled her earlobe, then nuzzled the length of her neck to her collarbone. He dipped his tongue into the silky hollow, then started back up again.

Why couldn't she just relax and enjoy this? Cameron's words reverberated in her mind. Was she living in the past? TR was dead. Nothing could bring him back. Nothing could change what she'd done. She'd married TR, but hadn't loved him. Cameron was her first love, her only love. _Her true love_. But oh, the guilt weighed her down.

She pushed at his massive chest as hard as she could. "We have to stop. I can't do this. Shouldn't . . ."

"Damn it, Jess." Cameron grasped her shoulders, barely restraining himself from shaking her. "TR is gone. Let him go."

"I know TR is dead, but a wife should be loyal to her husband . . . to his memory. His battles were my battles . . . _are_ my battles."

"Even when you don't know what you're fighting for? You said yourself you don't know what the feud was about. It's not your feud. Hell, it wasn't even TR's. It was about something that happened years ago when our grandfathers were young."

"Do you know why they were fighting?" For some reason, the answer was important. Jessie felt like she was in a dark tunnel and had just spotted a pinpoint of light. If she found out the reason for the feud, then she'd have one less thing to feel guilty about. Maybe she could move on and not feel as if she were betraying her husband.

"I don't know the reason, but we can find out." Cameron grabbed her hand and started for the door.

"Where are we going?"

"To the ranch. My mother will know what that damned feud was about."

****

Ruth sat at the old oak table in her kitchen. She looked from Cameron to Jessie, then back to Cameron again. "I haven't thought about the feud in a long time. Grandma told me about it when I first married your father, but nobody mentioned it much after that."

Jessie sat across from Ruth, waiting impatiently. What could have happened to make TR's grandfather hate the McCades so much that his grandson carried on the feud after his death? Suddenly, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Ignorance was sometimes bliss. She didn't want to betray TR, but it was time to move forward. She'd been given another chance with Cameron. She couldn't let it slip through her fingers. But the guilt . . . she had to get past the guilt.

Ruth folded a dishcloth, smoothing the material with her palms. "Grandma said it was the silliest thing, really. She couldn't understand why the men acted so stupid." She reached over and patted Cameron's hand. "Nothing personal, dear. Men just can't help themselves. Not that you act stupid, at least, not often."

Jessie shot a look at Cameron to see his reaction. His eyes held a glint of amusement. All the McCades adored their mother. That had to be a point in their favor.

"Anyway," Ruth continued, "Grandma said it was just a misunderstanding. 'All's fair in love and war,' if you get my drift?"

Cameron took a deep breath. Probably praying for patience, Jessie thought.

"No, we don't get your meaning," he said. "Tell us what happened."

"Well, Grandma was engaged to Travis Devine before she married Grandpa."

"TR's grandfather?" Jessie asked.

Ruth nodded, her cheeks turning pink as if she were embarrassed.

"So what?" Cameron said. "They obviously broke up and she married Grandpa."

Ruth shook her head. "There was a little more to it than that. The night before the wedding, Grandpa persuaded her to run off with him. It caused quite a scandal. Travis was left standing at the altar, so to speak. He never forgave Grandpa or Grandma."

"Why didn't she just end the engagement?" Jessie asked.

"She couldn't. Everything was in place. It had something to do with the land. _This_ land. Grandma was an only child. She brought a good portion of the Diamondback Ranch, only it wasn't called that back then, to her marriage. Grandpa came home from the war and swept her off her feet. They fell in love, but Travis wouldn't release her from the betrothal. He wanted the land, you see."

"Are you sure he didn't love her?" Jessie said.

"Travis Devine never loved anyone but himself," Ruth said. "He married TR's grandmother shortly after the scandal. _Her_ parents had money. Not a whole lot, but enough."

"So why did Grandpa sell old man Devine the mineral rights?" Cameron asked.

"He was trying to smooth things over with Travis. Grandpa had a chance to expand the ranch, but was short on cash." Ruth shot Jessie a mischievous and conspiring look, no doubt thinking about Jessie's recent lack of cash flow. "Travis had become something of a recluse, always making threats against the McCades, obsessed with the Diamondback Ranch. Grandpa offered the mineral rights on the northeast portion of the ranch, the part that adjoins the Devine place. It was sort of like an olive branch."

"It didn't help though, did it?" Jessie said.

"No, it didn't. Travis bought the rights and held them over Grandpa's head, always threatening to lease them to one of the big oil companies. He knew Grandpa would be powerless to stop them from drilling on the land."

"So why didn't he make good on his threats?" Cameron said.

"Luckily, the big companies were too busy drilling off-shore. They haven't bothered looking for oil around here in years. Only until recently . . ." Ruth trailed off as she looked again at Jessie.

Cameron scooted back his chair. "I know about Jessie and the mineral rights."

"You do?" Ruth asked.

He nodded. "We talked about it when I was here last time, remember? Anyway, thanks for telling us about the feud. I'm going to take Jessie home now."

"My truck's at the garage," Jessie said.

"Then I'll take you there."

He guided her out the door, his hand resting on the small of her back. His touch sent shivers down to her toes. She tried not to blush at Ruth's knowing smile.

On the road to town, Jessie sat in silence. The feud had happened so long ago; it seemed foolish now. True love had won out over greed. TR's grandfather had nursed the grudge because he'd lost the land. He had taught TR to hate and mistrust the McCades. Sighing, Jessie knew she had never hated the McCades. In fact, she'd lost her heart to one when she'd been very young.

She turned her head slightly and studied Cameron's profile. The lights from the instrument panel cast a soft glow over his rugged features. He caught her eye and winked, setting butterflies loose in her stomach. He was dangerously handsome, the attraction between them almost frightening.

Cameron was right. She _had_ been living in the past. With Ruth's explanation, Jessie finally understood TR's hatred toward the McCades.

"Why so quiet?" Cameron asked, glancing at her.

_Because I want you so much it scares me._ Of course, she couldn't tell him that. "I was thinking how much time and energy TR wasted on that feud. Travis Devine's hatred affected TR's life and mine."

"Does this mean you're going to put the feud to rest?" he asked.

Jessie swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, I guess I am."

"Good. I'm glad, Jess." Cameron's smile burned a hole right through her midsection.

"Does this mean you'll sell Dallas the mineral rights?"

The muscles in the back of her neck tightened. Letting go of the feud was one thing; letting go of those mineral rights was something else. "No, I've told you before. I'll never sell the mineral rights."

"Why not? You realize the feud was pointless. Why not let Dallas buy back the rights?"

"I promised TR, and that's one promise I won't break. I hate breaking promises. I hated breaking the one I made to your mother. I had to lease the rights, you know. I had to make that phone call."

"You did? She seems to be taking it well," Cameron said.

"I still hate that I had to do it."

"Try not to worry about it, Jess. You did what you had to do."

The lights of Salt Fork were straight ahead. Cameron turned into the station and parked next to Jessie's pickup. He got out, walked around to open Jessie's door and helped her out.

"So what happens now, Jess?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. You're the one who always has a plan."

He frowned. "Right, a plan. Would you believe I don't have one this time?"

That made her smile. "Wow, this must be a first for you."

Cameron stepped close and touched her cheek in a gentle caress. "Help me, Jess. I don't know where to go from here. I want you so much, I hurt. But I can't see my way through. For once in my life, I'm acting on impulse. I don't know what I really want. Not only in my personal life, but my professional life as well."

"Cameron, I--"

He placed a finger over her lips. "Help me find the way, Jess. Nothing feels right anymore. All I know is that when I'm with you, everything feels better."

Cameron gathered her in his arms and kissed her tenderly. "Help me, sweetheart."

Jessie knew she was fighting a losing battle. She didn't want to betray TR, but Cameron was right. It was time to move forward. She'd been given a second chance. And Cameron seemed open to explore what they felt for each other. She couldn't let it slip through her fingers.

Jessie wiggled free from Cameron's hold. He said he wanted to continue where they'd left off. Then maybe they needed to go back to where it had all begun.

"Jess?" Confusion and desire burned in his blue eyes. "Let me love you, please."

_If only he could_. Jessie took his big hand in hers and tugged. "Come on, Cameron."

He hung back. "Where are we going?"

"Lover's Point."

"Lover's Point? Why?"

She placed his hand on her heart. "Because that's where all of this started."

"And that's where you think it should end?"

"Not end," Jessie said. "Begin. Let's make a new beginning."

"I'd like that, Jess. I'd like that a lot."

### CHAPTER SEVEN

The drive to Lover's Point took less than ten minutes. Ten long minutes that had Jessie wrestling with second, third and fourth thoughts. Could she put years of self-blame and sorrow behind her and move on? Or would this just cause more inner turmoil?

Cameron turned off the main road and drove up the bluff leading to Lover's Point. He parked the Jag on the ridge overlooking the deep canyon and cut the motor and the lights. The moon glowed brightly in the dark sky and a trail of wispy clouds floated across its silver face.

Jessie gripped the door handle, ready to hurl herself from the car. She wasn't ready . . . she wasn't sure . . .

"It's all right, Jess. We're not going to do anything until both of us want to."

Jessie's heart turned over at the tenderness in his voice. She licked her dry lips. "It's silly, but I'm nervous."

"I'm a little nervous, too." Cameron leaned against the doorframe and faced her in the darkness. "The last time I was up here, it was with you. You were nervous then, too. You'd never been to Lover's Point. You'd never been kissed."

"You remember it was my first kiss?" _How sweet was that?_ Maybe he cared for her more than he realized.

"I remember feeling glad I was your first. You were so innocent and so damned young." Cameron snagged her gaze, his eyes tender and hot at the same time. "I remember a lot of things about that night."

"Like what?" Jessie tucked one leg beneath her, positioning herself toward him.

"Like I was glad I asked you to the prom. I was glad you accepted my invitation."

"But I was your last resort," Jessie said. "The prom was only a few days away. You'd broken up with Patti and there was no one left to ask."

His eyes burned into hers. "You weren't my last resort, Jess." His deep voice wrapped around her like a caress.

"I wasn't?" Her heart thudded in her ears.

"Not by a long shot," he said. "There were several girls in Girard and Cactus Gap who would've gone with me. You were _not_ my last resort."

"Really?" Jessie's stomach did a belly flop. All these years she'd believed she was his last choice. That it had been a total fluke when he'd asked her to the prom. She'd been wrong. What else had she been wrong about?

"Yes, really." Cameron leaned closer. "Know what else I remember about that night?"

Jessie leaned closer, too; she couldn't help herself. "What do you remember?" she asked softly.

"I remember how beautiful you were in that dress. You looked so grown up. And _sexy_. I'd never seen you out of your coveralls."

Cameron reached for her and slipped his fingers behind her neck, drawing her across the console until they were only millimeters apart. "I'd give anything to see you out of your coveralls again." She felt his warm breath on her lips.

" _Why_ did you come back?" Jessie asked, searching his eyes in the darkness.

"I couldn't stay away, Jess. I just couldn't stay away." He ground out the words as he clamped his mouth on hers.

Jessie's heart shifted in her chest. She gave in to the whirlpool of passion, kissing Cameron like she'd been longing to do, tasting him, savoring the feel of him.

After a couple of minutes, Cameron pulled back and smiled a smile so sexy, so intimate, whatever barriers Jessie had erected crashed and burned.

"This is good, Jess. This feels right." He pushed the bucket seat away from the steering wheel and hauled Jessie onto his lap. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and brushed his lips across hers, back and forth, teasing, taunting.

Jessie's breasts grew heavy. Her nipples ached to be touched. She felt Cameron's arousal thrusting against her. She wriggled until they fit snugly together. The layers of clothing only intensified the wanting, the longing, the desire.

Cameron scattered fleeting kisses over her eyelids, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. He kissed the corners of her mouth, nipped her chin, caressed her face with his lips, but never tasted her fully.

Jessie thought she might die if he didn't kiss her, _really_ kiss her. His words echoed in her ears. This _did_ feel good; it felt so right to be in his arms again. She tried to catch his mouth, but he held her captive with one strong hand tangled in her hair.

"Please, Cameron." A liquid heat gathered low in her stomach.

"Tell me what you want," he said, quickly dipping his tongue into her mouth, only to retreat again.

"Kiss me. Please kiss me," she said.

With his hands on either side of her face, he slanted his head and fastened his mouth on hers, plunging deeply, grinding his lips against her softness. He shifted his lower body to stroke her from below. She groaned into his mouth.

Cameron cupped one breast, kneading gently through the layers of cloth. "I want you, Jess. Let me make love to you."

Jessie knew if she rejected Cameron now, she would regret it for the rest of her life. She was so tired of the turmoil and self-reproach. She was ready for a new beginning with Cameron. She loved him. She'd loved him forever. Maybe she could make him love her back.

Cameron touched her cheek. "Jess?"

She caught his hand and kissed his palm. His blue eyes glittered in the dark interior of the car.

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

"Yes, oh, yes!" She couldn't resist him any longer; she captured his mouth in another heart-stopping kiss. "Let's go to my house."

He smiled his killer smile. "Excellent idea." Kissing her one more time, Cameron set her from him and started the car.

"It's getting late," Jessie said, buckling her seat belt. "I'll need my pickup in the morning for work."

"All right. We'll go back and get your truck. Then I'll follow you home." He leaned over and took her mouth again before reluctantly breaking contact.

They didn't talk on the way to the garage. Cameron stopped the car beside her pickup. "Go on, Jess. The quicker we get to your house, the quicker we can get naked and into bed."

The provocative words flowed over her like warm honey. Her body pulsed with desire. She didn't know how she made it to her truck; she was sure her feet never touched the ground.

Jessie kept glancing in her rear view mirror on the drive home, mesmerized by Cameron's headlights. Feelings of elation alternated with misgivings. This was a big step. Could she handle the aftermath? Could she make Cameron love her?

****

She parked at the back of the house and so did Cameron. He stood close behind as she opened the door, then followed her into the dark kitchen. Jessie switched on the lights and made a beeline for the heater. She struck a match and the blue flame leapt to life.

"Sorry it's so cold," she said. "I turn everything off before I go to work. I better light the other heaters, so we won't freeze to death."

Cameron reached for her. "I don't think we need to worry about that."

Suddenly shy, Jessie slipped from his arms and dashed to the living room. "You don't realize how cold it actually is. I won't be long," she called.

After a few minutes, she came back to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway. Cameron stood by the stove, warming his hands, his presence filling the room. He turned to warm his backside, and his eyes fastened on hers.

"Come on over here, Jess." He held out his arms, and she walked straight into his embrace.

Cameron enveloped her in a bear hug, slowly rotating so she could be warmed by the fire. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. For a moment, they stood just like that, taking advantage of the heat from the stove. Soon, a different kind of heat built between them.

Jessie looked up. Cameron's eyes were heavy with desire. Her stomach jittered nervously. "Do you want a drink?"

He shook his head and gave her a smile so sensual, it stole the breath from her lungs. "No, all I want is you." He slid his hands to her bottom and pulled her hard against his body.

"There's something I need to tell you," Jessie said.

He rubbed his hands up and down her spine. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I haven't . . . done this in a long time."

Cameron's hands stopped rubbing. "Exactly how long do you mean?"

"I haven't been with anyone since TR." She thought she might as well confess it all. "I haven't been with anyone except TR."

Cameron moved his hands again. "It'll be good between us. I'll make it good. I promise." He kissed her, dipping into her sweetness. His tongue swirled around her liquid warmth.

Jessie closed her eyes, tilting her head back. Her lower body readied itself, growing damp, throbbing to be filled. Her knees sagged. She kept from falling by clasping her arms more tightly around Cameron's waist. How many years had she dreamed of this moment?

Cameron hooked an arm under her legs, lifting Jessie with ease. She grabbed hold around his neck and nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder.

"Where's your bed?" he asked, his voice ragged.

"Through there." She motioned toward the living room. "But it's going to be freezing," she warned.

"Not for long."

With quick, determined strides, he found the bedroom. He set Jessie on the big double bed and flicked on the lamp, then shrugged out of his jacket. The coldness hit him like a blast from the Arctic.

"Damn, you're right," he said, blowing on his hands. He sat next to Jessie and briskly rubbed her arms. "These sheets are like ice."

Jessie made a quick decision. She handed two pillows to Cameron and grabbed the quilt. "Follow me." Now that she'd made up her mind, her shyness evaporated. Despite the frigid temperature, her body was on fire.

In the living room, she spread the quilt in front of the heater. She took the pillows from Cameron, dropped them on the pallet and pulled an afghan from the sofa. Closing the distance between them, she wound her arms around his neck and kissed his chin. "Is this better?"

"Yes, ma'am." Cameron kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring and tangling with hers. After a few delicious minutes, he knelt and grasped her round bottom, kneading the firm flesh through the sweatpants, placing kisses across her fleece-covered abdomen, pushing the pants down her legs and following their path with little nips and kisses.

Jessie kicked off her shoes and stepped from the puddled heap of fabric. She ran her fingers through Cameron's crisp brown hair and gasped when she felt the heat from his mouth between her thighs. Even through her panties, the sensation caused an unbearable tension to coil in the pit of her stomach. She pushed forward, seeking closer contact.

"Cameron . . ."

"Easy, Jess. We have the whole night before us." He pushed the edge of her sweatshirt slowly upward, trailing his tongue and lips over the bared skin. He lingered over her breasts and suckled the nipples through the lacy bra. Cameron eased the shirt over her head and returned his attention to the lace-captive flesh. With one arm supporting the small of her back, he unfastened the bra, releasing her breasts, feasting his eyes on the enticing curves and rosy brown nipples.

"Beautiful. You're so damned beautiful." He bent to kiss each nipple, flicking his tongue, nipping with his lips, blowing his hot breath across them until they beaded. Jessie arched her back, offering herself, moaning deeply in her throat.

Cameron felt himself throbbing with need, and the pressure against his zipper begged for release. He'd never failed to pleasure a woman, but Jessie was different. Special. She had always been different. Always been special. Knowing how long it had been for her, what value she placed on sharing her body--all of it was driving him over the edge too damn fast. The fierce need to possess her scared the hell out of him. He had never felt this way about a woman. Never.

"Please, Cameron," Jessie pleaded, reaching for him.

Still on his knees, he buried his face between the soft swell of her breasts. He trailed his tongue along the curves, teasing the nipples, bathing the tips with the flat of his tongue. Jessie's body jerked with reaction.

Cameron gently lowered her to the pallet, never breaking contact. Jessie frantically pulled his shirt from his jeans. She plunged her hands under the fabric, pressing her palms and fingers over his warm skin. It wasn't enough. She groaned in frustration and tugged the shirt upwards.

Cameron's control slipped a notch. Her small hands on his body made him want to immediately thrust inside her. "Slow down, sweetheart. We need to slow down."

"I don't want to slow down. I need you. Help me get your shirt off."

Cameron sat up and pulled the offending garment over his head. Jessie's impatience was contagious. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties and peeled them down the length of her long, shapely legs. With his eyes on hers, he reached for his zipper and unfastened his jeans. Pushing them down, he shucked them out of the way.

Stretching out beside her, his heated gaze traveled the length of her body. He hadn't thought it possible, but he hardened even more.

Jessie laid her palms flat against his chest. Her emerald eyes shimmered with passion. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. "Now, Cameron. Take me now. Please."

Her whispered plea shattered what was left of his control. It was impossible to wait another moment. Later they could leisurely taste and touch, savor each other's bodies. Right now, he had to have her and make her his. He wanted to feel her inner muscles contract as she accepted him into her body. He grabbed his jeans and pulled a small plastic package from the pocket.

Jessie stared at the packet. Protection wasn't necessary. But now wasn't the time to tell Cameron she couldn't have children. She didn't want anything to spoil their lovemaking.

Taking the square packet from him, she brushed her arm against his hot erection. Deliberately, she brushed him again as she got to her knees. "We really don't need this."

Cameron's eyes dilated and his nostrils flared. "You're protected?"

Jessie tossed the condom aside. "Absolutely." It wasn't really a lie.

For a moment, she knelt there and just looked at him. He was big and hard and beautiful. She bent and swirled her tongue over and around the rigid tip of his erection. Her stomach contracted in feminine triumph when Cameron clutched her head, threading his fingers in her hair, groaning his desire. She moistened the length of him with her lips, caressing him with her tongue, teasing a bit before finally taking him in her mouth.

"You're killing me, Jess."

She lifted her head and smiled. "Am I?" Slowly, sensuously, she slid her hand up and down his length, then cupped the velvety sacs in her palms.

Cameron growled as he pushed her back onto the pallet. He followed her down and covered her with his body. He closed his eyes, striving for control, luxuriating in the feel of her naked against him. He gripped the sides of her head and plunged his tongue into her willing mouth, ravishing the warm interior, capturing her lips with his teeth, biting gently, sucking hard.

With his knee, he wedged open her thighs and entered her, pushing until he was secured. He waited a minute, holding his breath, afraid he'd explode. He wanted to make it good for Jessie, because it was damn sure good for him. Slowly, he began to move.

Jessie clasped her legs around Cameron's waist and held on tightly. She'd been living for this moment all of her life. She kissed the corded muscles of his neck. His lips compressed in a tight line. He slid his arms behind to grasp her buttocks, hammering into her again and again. She welcomed his weight and met each powerful plunge with an upward thrust. She relished the feel of her breasts crushed beneath his chest, the driving force as their bodies joined.

They quickly discovered their own unique rhythm. Coming together, pulling apart. Breaths scorching, sweat glistening. Muscles tensing, flexing. Jessie soared on the precipice of release, the magic in sight, the urgency mounting, the tension agonizing.

Cameron raised up and pushed deeper, slowly pulling out to prolong the sweet torture, then thrusting again until he was buried to the hilt.

When Jessie finally cried out, her body overtaken by a powerful orgasm, Cameron dropped his head to the pillow, whispering encouragement, finding his own release as she strained against him. Together they hurtled through time that had stopped. Swirling in the violence of their passion, free-falling back to earth, they lay in the aftermath of their desire, waiting for the pounding of their hearts to slow and their throbbing bodies to still.

****

The next day, bright autumn sunlight cast dusty beams through the high windows of Kincaid's Garage. Jessie was busy working on Cy Jackson's tractor. She had flushed the radiator and was now checking the thermostat. She tried not to think about the night before, but couldn't help herself. Happiness and despondency warred inside her.

No way did she regret the lovemaking. It had been wonderful. Everything she had imagined plus some. She blushed when she remembered Cameron's insatiable desire. _And her own_. As if they were trying to make up for all the years they had been apart. Finally, exhausted and replete, they had fallen asleep in each other's arms.

Jessie had awakened on the cold hard pallet in the early morning hours, turning to seek the warmth of Cameron's body, only to find emptiness. He had left without saying goodbye. She dragged her love-sore body to bed and crawled between icy sheets, flipping on the electric blanket. It wasn't long until her feet were toasty, but nothing could warm the chill clutching her heart.

_What had she expected?_ She had known Cameron wouldn't stay; leaving was what he was good at. No, Jessie wasn't sorry she'd made love with Cameron. It had been beautiful and right. She loved him more than ever, but what would happen now? What did he want from her? What more was she willing to give?

Jessie reached for a wrench, when suddenly, large hands spun her around until she was lodged between the tractor and a hard muscled male body. Before she could utter a greeting or protest, Cameron's mouth crushed down on hers, taking her with a savage passion, his tongue tangling with her tongue, renewing the erotic rhythm they'd discovered last night.

Jessie's doubts and fears faded to the background. Her heart sang joyously. _Cameron was back._ She plastered her body to his rugged frame.

Cameron drew her closer, gripping her bottom, lifting her a little, so he could rub against her. He felt her tremble in his arms, sigh into his mouth. She was so responsive. So giving. So sexy.

He set Jessie on her feet and kept his arms around her. "Good morning, sweetheart." He kissed her nose and forehead. God, he'd hated leaving her on their makeshift pallet. The temptation to stay and wake her with his kisses, bring her to pleasure as the sun peeked in the east, plunge himself into her inviting heat--it had been almost more than he could resist.

But he hadn't dared spend the entire night with her. If they had been in Houston, it would have been different. They could have stayed in bed morning, noon, and night. As it was, he knew his mother would have enough to talk about knowing he'd taken Jessie home and stayed so late. So he'd forced himself to leave, ignoring the compelling urge to take her again, brand her as his. Feelings of protectiveness battled with feelings of possessiveness. He'd been shocked by the primitive need to claim this woman as his own.

Jessie slipped out of Cameron's embrace and stood, hands on hips, glaring at him. "Why did you leave me without saying goodbye?"

"Because you were sleeping so soundly, I hated to disturb you." He reached for her, wanting to gather her in his arms again.

She pushed away, putting the tool bench between them.

"Aw, Jess. What are you doing? There's no need to play games. We're past that, I hope. Give me another kiss."

_Playing games?_ She didn't think so. Too much was at stake, namely her heart. But she couldn't tell Cameron that. They were beginning anew. Starting over. She had to tread carefully. Maybe he was right. Maybe she _was_ playing a game.

She chose her words with care. "Last night was special for me. When I woke up and you weren't there . . . I felt . . . bad."

Cameron stepped around the bench, taking her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Jess. I only want to make you feel good. We _are_ good together, aren't we?"

"Yes," she said, keeping her eyes on his chest. _But for how long?_ The silent question made her want to cry.

Cameron grasped the nape of her neck and gently tugged her hair, tilting her head back until she met his gaze. "Next time, I'll be sure to say goodbye before I leave your bed." He skimmed his tongue gently across her lips, lightly tasting before devouring her with his mouth.

Jessie closed her eyes and put her arms around Cameron's waist. It was a heady sensation to feel him tremble with need for her, just as she trembled for him. They _were_ good together. Surely, that had to count for something. And what had he meant by 'next time'? Was he staying around for a while?

Jessie broke the embrace when she heard a door slam. She didn't want Sam to catch her in Cameron's arms. "I have to get back to work."

Reluctantly, Cameron let her go. He nodded to Garza as the man walked up.

"Morning," Sam said, eyeing them strangely. "Finished with the tractor, Jessie?"

"It still needs antifreeze," she said.

"I'll take care of it."

Cameron grabbed Jessie's arm and hauled her outside. He hated her working so closely with Garza. What the hell was the matter with him? He was jealous, that's what. And possessive. First, the sheriff. Now, Garza. Who next?

After tasting the delights of Jessie's body last night, he wanted more. _Now_. But that was impossible, so he crammed his hands in his pockets instead of dragging her slender body close.

Jessie watched the desire burn in Cameron's eyes. The knuckles of his clenched fists turned white before he buried them in his jeans. For a moment, she was afraid he was going to kiss her out here in front of God and everybody. That would certainly give the town something to talk about, especially after he left. She readjusted her hat, stuffing her hair under the brim. The draft from the cold morning breeze hit her face. The promise of winter floated in the chilled air. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for Cameron to speak. It was getting cold, the silence awkward. Did last night mean anything to him? They'd finished what they'd started on Lover's Point. How long before he returned to Houston? She had to prepare herself. He would leave. It was inevitable.

"Did you want to tell me something in particular? Or did you drag me out here to freeze my bottom off?" she said. To hell with melancholy thoughts. She needed to enjoy this time with Cameron. It was all she would have.

"I want to go to the bonfire tonight and I want you to go with me."

Jessie's jaw dropped. _Cameron wanted to take her to the bonfire?_ She really shouldn't place too much importance on it, or let herself hope, but she couldn't help the happy little bubble dancing inside. She smiled and kissed his cheek. "I'd love to go. Say about six-thirty?"

"That's fine. And this time, I'll pick you up. No arguments." He grasped her wrist, pulled her to him and kissed her hard. Jessie's eyes widened in surprise. She halfheartedly attempted to push away, even while her mouth melted beneath his onslaught.

Finally, he let her go. "I'll be by your house at six-thirty. Be ready for me."

Cameron left her standing by the garage doors, gasping for breath, her eyes dreamy with passion. If she looked at him like that tonight when he picked her up, they would be late for the bonfire.

### CHAPTER EIGHT

Jessie was waiting on her porch, ready to leave when Cameron pulled up. She hurried to the car and hopped in. Her smile was strained when she greeted him. No time for kisses, no time for passion. They wouldn't be late to the bonfire, damn it. He wondered what was wrong.

As he turned onto the highway, she started digging in her purse.

"Did you forget something?" he asked. "Need to go back to the house?"

"Nope, I found it." She pulled out a small spiral pad attached to a long ribbon and tied it around her neck like a necklace. Then she fastened a ballpoint to the ribbon and snapped her purse shut.

"What's with the pad and pen? Are you going to take notes or something?"

"Yes. For the paper."

"For the paper?"

"The newspaper. Every year, I do a story on the homecoming festivities."

"You do keep busy, don't you?"

Again, that strained smile. "I like to be busy."

Cameron drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, racking his brain for something to say. They were acting like strangers, which was ridiculous. Last night, they had been naked in bed. Engaged in the best sex he'd ever had. He'd thought it had been good for Jessie, too.

He glanced at her. She was staring out the window. It had been a big step for her to go to bed with him. Maybe she regretted it, or maybe she just felt uncomfortable and awkward. He didn't know what to say.

They continued the ride in silence. On the edge of town, Cameron slowed down. As always, the bonfire ceremony took place in the big field across from the high school. Now, there was Jessie's clinic sharing the space. He wanted another look at the medical clinic. He'd been thinking about it ever since Jessie had given him the grand tour.

He parked near the other cars and trucks.

"Something wrong?" he asked, then couldn't help himself. "Are you sorry about last night?"

"No." She turned and faced him. "No, I'm not sorry about last night."

"So what's bothering you?"

Jessie sighed deeply. "Nothing. I'm just being silly. Come on, let's go." She was out the door before he could ask more questions.

"Wait, Jess," he called, jogging after her.

Jessie stopped and stared straight ahead.

"You going to tell me what's going on?"

"Nothing's going on. I'm fine, I promise."

Cameron resisted the urge to drag her in his arms and kiss away her worries. He needed to be cautious; he was swimming in dangerous waters here. He had no plan. He was going on gut instinct and didn't know where it would lead him.

"Ready for some small town fellowship?" Jessie asked with a more natural smile playing on her lips.

It was Cameron's turn to sigh. "Some things never change, do they?"

"No, they don't."

There was a sad tone to her voice, he didn't understand. She took his hand and they walked toward the crowd gathered near the center of the field.

The mayor had the honor of lighting the bonfire. The cheerleaders started a round of yells as soon as the huge pile of lumber, mesquite and large tumbleweeds ignited.

Cameron watched the twenty-foot blaze flicker in the darkness. The orange and blue flames roared upward and reached for the night sky. He and Jessie stood a short distance away, watching the sparks burst, listening to the sizzling sounds, welcoming the heat from the small inferno. The weather had turned blustery cold.

With his hand on the back of her neck, he guided her through the throng of people, stopping to exchange greetings with old friends and teachers. Nothing had changed, just as he'd said. Homecoming was still the highlight of the football season with the bonfire, the game, the king and queen, and the dance.

"Hey, Cameron. You old son-of-a-gun!" Lester Smith slapped him on the shoulder.

Cameron shook the hand thrust toward him. Lester had been his best buddy in high school. He'd moved to St. Louis after college. "How've you been?"

"Fine, just fine," Lester said, pumping his arm up and down like an old-fashioned water pump. His eyes widened. "And Jessie! Haven't seen you in ages."

"Hey, Lester," she said in greeting.

"Don't tell me you two are a couple?" Lester finally let go of Cameron's hand. "Seems like the last time I saw y'all was . . . at the prom . . . Hey, you're not _married_ , are you?"

Cameron's hand dropped away from Jessie. "No, we're not married."

As she listened to Cameron talk to Lester, a heavy sensation settled in the pit of her stomach. At the mention of marriage, he'd let go of her hand like a hot potato. Cameron was going to leave and break her heart. Again. She would dry up into a little old widow-woman who raised cats for company.

She could barely smile when Lester said his goodbyes.

"He's the same as ever," Cameron said, shaking his head as Lester faded into the crowd.

"Cameron! Hey, Cameron!"

"Oh man, Patti? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," she said with a laugh. "Hey, Jessie. How are you doing?" Patti reached up and kissed Cameron's cheek. "How's life treating you in Houston?"

"Good, how about you?"

"Pretty good," she said. "The kids keep me busy."

"Mama! Mama! Come here!" called a high little voice near the fire.

Patti chuckled. "See what I mean? Good to see you, Cameron. You too, Jessie."

She walked over to a little boy and took hold of his small grubby hand. She smiled at Cameron over her shoulder one more time before her son dragged her away.

"I think she loved you." Jessie's voice was a whisper. It had been difficult to stand there and witness that particular reunion. Patti was the girlfriend Cameron had broken up with right before the prom. She'd been hurt when he'd left Salt Fork. _Before_ he had left, though she hadn't let on.

"She didn't really love me," Cameron said. "She was better off with Bubba anyway."

Jessie didn't know what to say. Luckily, the mayor began introducing the candidates for homecoming queen and king. She took her pad and pen from around her neck and jotted down names for her article.

"Are you okay?" Cameron asked, looking down at Jessie's bent head. She seemed quiet and withdrawn tonight.

Not looking up from her notes, Jessie nodded.

When the mayor announced their names, the young couples moved forward to stand by him. Cameron remembered how he and Patti had been voted king and queen their senior year. It hadn't meant much to him. He'd already been itching to leave, to get on with his life, to study medicine.

The band started playing the alma mater and everyone joined in. Cameron watched the shadows of the flickering flames dance across Jessie's face. He wanted her again, to bring her to fulfillment, to share the pleasure with her. Last night . . . words couldn't describe last night. He was scared as hell about what he was feeling. If he were smart, he would go back to Houston and forget Jessie.

She turned and smiled uncertainly. Doubt and longing shone in her eyes.

Cameron clasped his fingers around the back of her neck again and squeezed reassuringly. "Are you ready?"

Jessie nodded, unable to speak. _Ready to make love. Ready to follow you anywhere. But not ready for a broken heart._

"Let's go, then." He propelled her away from the crowd.

Cameron's touch burned through Jessie's sweater. Rivulets of sexual awareness tingled down her spine. She wanted him to make love to her again. She wanted to store away as many memories as possible to keep her warm during the long lonely nights ahead.

The house was invitingly cozy when they entered. Jessie had left the heaters going.

"Got anything to drink?" Cameron asked, shucking out of his jacket.

"There's some bourbon. Or I could make a pot of coffee."

"Coffee sounds good." He tossed the jacket over the back of a chair, before sitting at the table.

Thankful for something to do, Jessie filled the coffee maker and plugged it in. She felt awkward. They were going to end up in bed. She knew that, even welcomed it. But she hated being so unsophisticated.

The coffee maker sputtered with familiar gurgling noises. Jessie sat at the kitchen table next to Cameron and removed the journalist's pad from around her neck. She'd taken lots of notes. Her readers would not be disappointed.

Cameron picked it up and flipped through the pages. "Get any juicy tidbits?"

Jessie laughed. "Not much happens in Salt Fork. You know that. _We_ were probably the hottest topic of discussion. Or didn't you notice?"

"I noticed the old tabbies' eyes bulging with curiosity," he said. "Were their mouths hanging open because I was back, or the fact that we were together?"

Jessie went to the counter and poured the coffee. "Probably both. You've stayed away a long time. Coming back twice in two months is a miracle in itself." She handed him a steaming mug before sitting down again.

He took a sip and watched her. "And the fact that we were together?"

She nearly choked on the hot coffee. The sensual tone of his voice shot tiny jolts of desire straight down to her core. She realized she had never believed they would really get together. Jessie took another drink to clear her throat and thoughts. "That's another miracle, isn't it?"

"How so?"

Jessie fidgeted with the notepad, opening and closing it, trying to hide the trembling in her fingers. This was not the time to discuss their relationship. _Because they had no relationship_. "I usually go to these events by myself. The fact that you and I were together . . . Everyone will think--" She shrugged. _She_ knew what everyone would think. Did Cameron care that his name would be coupled with hers? No, of course not.

"What would everyone think?" he said quietly. "That we're an item? Lester certainly thought so, didn't he?"

His eyes smoldered with an intensity that left Jessie shaking. She'd always known she was out of her league in her dealings with Cameron. She wasn't sure what he wanted from her now.

"Lester was always a fool," she said. Pushing away from the table, she stuffed the notepad in her purse, then went to the sink and poured the rest of her coffee down the drain. She gripped the edge of the counter for support and tried not to think how foolish she was acting. Wishing for the moon, wanting Cameron forever and ever. She dashed a hand across her eyes and desperately held back a sniff. She refused to let Cameron see just how unsophisticated she really was.

"Jess?" The voice was low, seductive. Cameron whispered it in her ear, bracing his arms on either side of her, imprisoning her between his warm body and the cold kitchen counter. His breath scorched her ear and she tilted her head back. Swallowing the lump of tears in her throat, Jessie made a decision. For this one night, she would forget he was going to leave. She would pretend they were forever and ever. And afterwards? She refused to think about that.

****

"Jess, wake up." Cameron kissed the silky hollow at the base of her throat. His hand kneaded one firm breast. "Wake up, sweetheart. It's late. I need to get back to the ranch." He pulled on his slacks, then groped in the dark for his socks.

Jessie rolled over and yawned. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand where the orange numerals glowed: _two-thirty_. She stretched, and then snuggled deeper under the covers. "Why don't you stay the night?"

She watched Cameron sit on the edge of the bed, his back to her. A very sexy back. He didn't say anything. The tendons in his shoulders tightened. _He doesn't want to stay. He's leaving._ She reached one hand from under the quilts and rubbed the corded muscles.

Cameron bowed his shoulders. The muscles flexed beneath her fingers. "That feels good," he said, his voice a low growl.

Jessie pushed the covers away and knelt behind him. She massaged the tendons until they relaxed. Goosebumps spread across his skin as her nails raked up and down his spine.

As swift as a panther, he turned and captured her hands, raised them above her head and pushed her down into the mattress. All it took was a touch or a look and the desire between them ignited. It had never been like this with TR. Jessie quickly blocked that thought from her mind.

"Again?" she asked, arching upward, inviting his caress, smiling at the man who had stolen her heart so long ago.

"Again," he said, grinding his mouth to hers.

The bed squeaked in time to the rhythm of their passion. After the fires were banked, they lay together in the darkness still joined.

"I really should go, Jess," he said in her ear.

"Don't you _want_ to stay?"

"Damn it! Of course I want to stay. I just don't want my mother or anyone else talking about you after I'm gone."

A knot formed in the middle of Jessie's stomach. Cameron was leaving; he'd just said so. She tightened her hold around his shoulders, as if to prevent him from going. "It's a little late to protect my reputation, don't you think? Stay the night with me. Please?"

Cameron kissed her forehead, then her lips. She felt good in his arms. No woman had ever fit him so perfectly. There was something definitely special about Jessie. But that thought was dangerous. Long-term relationships and marriage weren't in his plans yet. _Marriage,_ _whoa!_ _Where had that come from?_

The look in Jessie's eyes melted something in him. Hell, it was only one night. He started to move inside her again. "I'll stay, Jess. I'll stay."

****

It was close to noon when Jessie woke up. Brilliant sunlight streamed through the windows, causing her to blink back the sleep from her eyes. A sense of well-being permeated her soul. Her body was replete, but her stomach rumbled with hunger. It had been a long night. A glorious, wonderful, long night. She smiled and turned over to reach for Cameron.

He was gone.

The excruciating wrench in her gut almost made her sick. A tight fist clutched at her heart. She willed herself to calm down. Cameron had left without saying goodbye. Again. Jessie's contentment vanished, replaced with a feeling of abandonment and heartache. She took a deep breath, then another . . . and then sniffed the air.

Was that coffee she smelled?

Throwing back the covers, she jumped out of bed and dashed to the kitchen, only to stop short in the middle of the hallway when she realized she was naked. Good lord, she never slept naked. She'd never been able to sleep without clothes. Until last night. But then, there hadn't been much sleep going on last night. Jessie walked back to her room, slipped on a robe and tightened the belt on the way to the kitchen.

At the door, she peeked in and saw Cameron sitting at the table with Katnip on his lap. The old tomcat purred as the strong hands rubbed and petted him. Magic hands, Jessie thought. They made her want to purr, too.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Cameron flashed a grin that curled her toes. At the same time, she felt vulnerable, naked under the robe. She adjusted the belt more securely.

"A little late for modesty, don't you think?" Cameron asked with a wink.

"Force of habit," Jessie said. Blushing, she hurried to the counter and poured a cup of coffee. _Cameron hadn't left._ In fact, he looked right at home, sitting at her kitchen table with Katnip on his lap. Did he look that way when he was standing at an operating table? Probably more so. He had rejected rural living and turned his back on the ranch and Salt Fork.

"Why so quiet, Jess?"

She sat across from him at the table. "Tired, I guess."

"A good kind of tired, I hope." Again, that killer smile.

"Yes, a good kind of tired." She sipped her coffee and lost herself in the sensual warmth of Cameron's gaze. His eyes were deadlier than his smile.

Suddenly, her stomach growled.

"Hungry?" he asked.

She nodded. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"You. I can't seem to get enough of you."

Her lungs collapsed, refusing to function normally. The low intimacy of his voice, the intensity of his stare, shattered her nerve endings. Her stomach rumbled again.

Cameron laughed. "I think we better get something to eat. We used a lot of calories last night and you don't have many reserves."

Jessie jumped up, opened the refrigerator and rummaged around, trying to ignore the quiver in her stomach that had nothing to do with lack of food. "You think I'm too skinny? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" She stared at the meager contents on the glass shelves. She needed to go grocery shopping. She needed . . . _oh my_.

Cameron pulled her away from the fridge and into his arms, kicking the refrigerator door closed. "I don't think you're too skinny. I think you're perfect. Beautiful. Sexy."

"You think I'm sexy?" Jessie leaned her head on his shoulder, breathing in his clean masculine scent and feeling his steady heartbeat against her ear.

"Oh, yeah, sweetheart. I think you're damned sexy." He bent down and kissed her.

When his stomach growled, Jessie pulled away and smiled, poking a finger against the massive chest. "You're hungry too, buster. Don't deny it. Can't live on love alone, you know."

Cameron picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. "We can try, can't we?"

"Put me down," she protested, laughing as she flung her arms around his neck. "We need food. I'm starving."

He let her slide to the floor. Her body rubbed slowly against his. The erotic friction caused her robe to come undone.

"Let's go to the cafe for breakfast, brunch or whatever." Cameron slipped the robe from her shoulders and kissed her, caressing her breasts with gentle fingers. "But first, let's take a shower and get dressed."

"A shower? As in, together?" Jessie floated on a sea of sensation as his hands worked their magic over her body. Anticipation ignited a fire in her veins.

"Definitely together," Cameron said, as he steered her toward the bathroom door.

### CHAPTER NINE

"I can't eat another bite." Jessie pushed her plate away and wiped her mouth. She watched Cameron sop a fluffy biscuit in Sarah Sue's famous cream gravy. He glanced at her and winked. Jessie's heart flip-flopped. The love she felt for him burst the seams of her heart. Their time together was precious. Would Cameron miss her after he left?

Sarah Sue walked up and refilled their coffee cups. "Y'all want any dessert?"

"None for me, thanks," Jessie said.

The waitress put her hand on her hip and frowned.

"Something wrong?" Cameron asked, throwing down his napkin and glancing at Jessie.

"Well now, I was just wondering why Jessie is here instead of over at the football field."

"Oh my gosh!" Jessie said. "I completely forgot."

Cameron looked from her to Sarah Sue. "Forgot what?"

"Why darlin', you _have_ been away too long." She shook her finger in his face. "It's _homecoming_. You know? The Big Game. This afternoon. Three o'clock?"

Jessie shoved away from the table. "What time is it?" she asked Cameron.

"Almost two. Why?"

"I'll tell you why," the waitress said. "Jessie is one of Salt Fork's best feature writers. She interviews the coaches and players and writes a real nice column about the game. I always look forward to reading it." She set the coffee pot down and totaled up the bill. "It's surprising Jessie forgot. Never has before. Maybe she had other things on her mind." She handed the bill to Cameron. "Not that I don't think it's great you two are spending time together--"

"Sarah Sue, thanks for reminding me." Jessie felt a blush stain her cheeks. Her friend was notorious for minding other people's business. She turned to Cameron. "I really need to get over to the stadium. How could you forget? You came back for homecoming, didn't you?"

Sarah Sue snorted. "Of course, he didn't come back for homecoming, darlin'. Never bothered coming before. Any blind fool knows why he's here."

Jessie's cheeks grew redder. She turned and walked quickly out the door.

Cameron took care of the bill. He tucked an extra twenty in Sarah Sue's pocket and kissed her cheek. "Thanks. I think."

"Always like to help people dear to me. And Jessie's very dear. You two make a mighty fine couple. Don't go breaking her heart again, you hear?"

"Again?"

Sarah Sue grabbed the coffee pot. "Never mind, darlin'. Go on now, Jessie's waiting."

Cameron turned to leave.

"You're a fool if you let her get away, Cameron McCade," she called when he reached the door.

"I know it," he said over his shoulder.

"Know what?" Jessie stood just outside the entrance.

He took her elbow and led her to the car. "That I'm a fool." He placed a finger on her mouth. "Don't ask. Let's get to the stadium."

The bleachers were almost packed when they pulled into the parking lot. Jessie tied her notepad around her neck. "You get the seats while I do the interviews. I like to sit up high. Fifty-yard line."

Cameron smiled. "So you can see the whole field?"

"Exactly. You wouldn't be making fun of me again, would you?" she asked. "I know this isn't as exciting as a professional game, but it's important to people around here. It used to be important to you, too."

She opened the door and climbed out. Cameron leaned over the console and stared up at her. "Hey, Jess?"

Turning back, she bent to look at him, a question in her eyes.

"I love it when you throw my past in my face. Don't ever change." He brushed a finger against the soft skin of her cheek.

"You said that to me once before," she said.

"Did I? When?"

She straightened and dug a pen from the bottom of her purse. "You figure it out, Cameron." Jessie closed the door and disappeared through the gates leading to the football field.

Cameron engaged the alarm system on his car. The Jag looked out of place in the middle of all the pickups and farm vehicles. Just as he felt out of place, had _always_ felt out of place. Except for this visit. This visit was different somehow what with seeing Jess and making love to her. What the hell was he going to do about her?

At the ticket booth, he slapped some bills down, his mind on Jessie. "Two, please."

"Hey, Cameron." Patti Garrison smiled through the glass enclosure. "If one of these is for Jessie, I know just where she likes to sit."

"You sell tickets often?" He shoved the money under the window.

"Every game." She counted change and handed him the tickets. "My oldest is on the team, and Bubba's head coach."

"Bubba's the coach?" Cameron took the tickets from her. She sounded so proud and content.

"Sure is," Patti said. "They hired him after he graduated from Tech. We married while we were both at college and decided to come back home so we could raise our kids in Salt Fork."

"And you're happy here?" Cameron asked.

She shrugged. "As happy as one might expect, I guess. I didn't think so at the time, but breaking up with you was one of the best things that could have happened. I have a good husband and five great kids. And I enjoy living in Salt Fork."

"I thought . . . Jessie said . . ." Cameron shook his head, trying to straighten out his confused thoughts.

"I know what Jessie must think." Patti leaned forward and looked him in the eye. "But believe me, it wasn't _my_ heart that was broken when you left town."

He gripped the tickets in his hand. "What do you mean by that?"

Patti moved back. "Nothing. Forget it. Enjoy the game. Your mom and Tyler are already up in the stands. Austin and Kelsey, too. Dallas better hurry or he'll miss the kickoff. Nice seeing you, Cameron. I've got tickets to sell, and there's a long line behind you."

He glanced over his shoulder and stepped away from the booth. Patti's words disturbed him. Sarah Sue's warning replayed in his mind. Both women seemed to think he had broken Jessie's heart when he'd left town. But how could that be? They had barely known each other back in high school. He'd been aware of her crush on him, but it certainly hadn't been strong enough to warrant a broken heart.

Pushing through the crowd, Cameron slowly made his way to the grandstand, stopping to exchange greetings with old friends. Small town friendliness, Jessie would say. It wasn't so bad. He must be getting soft--or _old_. Or maybe Jessie was getting to him. Yeah, Jessie was definitely getting to him.

"Hey, Cameron! Up here."

Shading his eyes against the blinding afternoon sun, Cameron searched the crowded bleachers. High up in the stands, he spotted his two brothers, Tyler and Austin, sitting with his mom. A quick glance at his ticket stubs told him all he needed to know. He took the steps two at a time.

"Well, well. Isn't this cozy?" he said. He hadn't expected to share his date with his family.

Austin slapped him on the shoulder and grinned. "Isn't it, though?"

Ruth pulled Cameron down onto the seat next to her. "Sit down, Cam. It's not what you think. We always sit up here at the games. The view's great, and it's fun watching Jessie jot down notes for her stories." She buttoned the collar of her jacket and looked at the cheerleaders down below. "You didn't come home last night."

"No," he said, feeling like he was sixteen again.

"Jessie's a good girl. I don't want to see her get hurt."

"No one's going to get hurt, Mom." Everyone thought he was a heartbreaker, even his mother.

"You don't know that," Ruth said. "I told you she cares for you. If you spend the night at her place and then just go back to Houston--" She shook her head. "I'll never understand these modern ways. It wasn't like this when your father and I were young."

"Times change," Cameron said.

" _People_ don't change."

"Let up, Ma," Tyler said, rolling his eyes at his brother.

"Hey, Grams!" Kelsey ran up the steps toward them with a snack tray loaded with sodas, popcorn and nachos. "They were out of Spanish peanuts, so I got cashews instead. If you don't want them, I'll eat 'em." She climbed over the bleachers, dodging people right and left, concentrating on balancing the tray and getting to her seat.

"Here, let me help you." Austin took the tray from his daughter.

"Thanks," she said and flopped down beside him. Leaning around, she smiled at Cameron. "I saw Jessie, Uncle Cam. She'll be here in a minute." Kelsey waved to someone sitting lower in the stands. "There's my teacher, Miss Rogers. She's so cool. I'm going to say hello to her." She jumped up and was gone in a flash.

"Does she ever stay in one place for more than a minute?" Cameron asked, watching his niece down below.

Austin shook his head and grinned. "No, she's a ten-year-old whirlwind that never stops."

Cameron eased a cramp in one of his legs. "I wonder what's keeping Dallas?"

"I don't know," Tyler said. "He left the house at dawn. I took Ma to Abilene this morning, then came straight here. Something must have come up. He'll be here, though. He never misses a game."

Ruth set her bag of popcorn on her lap. "Did you see Patti?" she asked Cameron.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, I saw her at the bonfire last night and at the ticket booth just a minute ago."

Ruth let out a long sigh. "Her son is on the varsity team. I wish I had a grandson on the team. I wish I had a grandson, period. Or another granddaughter or two." She sighed again.

"Don't start that again," Cameron said. "You'll have more grandkids one of these days."

Austin put his arm around Ruth's shoulders. "Maybe Kelsey will try out for the team when she gets to high school. She's a fine little athlete."

"But she's a girl!" Ruth said. "Don't you dare go putting such notions into that child's head. Soccer is bad enough. Football is too rough for a girl."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Austin said. "Kelsey has a lot of speed. She'd make a darn good running back."

"Who'd make a good running back?" Jessie asked, scooting past Cameron and sitting between him and Ruth. She handed him a cup of hot cocoa.

"Oh, Jessie," Ruth cried. "Austin wants Kelsey to play football!"

Jessie patted Ruth's hand. "He's just teasing you, I'm sure." She frowned at Austin, then winked at Cameron.

"How'd the interviews go?" Cameron blew the cocoa before taking a sip. He hadn't realized Jessie was so close to his family. Close enough to soothe his mother's feelings and scold Austin in the same breath. He'd known she was on friendly terms with them; she'd been invited to Ruth's birthday party. But he'd been too busy that day to see her interact with any of them.

"The interviews went great," Jessie said, warming her fingers on her cocoa cup. "Bubba says there's a slim chance we might win today."

"Only a slim chance?" Cameron asked.

Jessie nodded. "The team hasn't had a successful season this year. Things are different than when we were kids and you were playing."

Everything seemed to be different since they were kids, Cameron thought. Or was it the same? His attraction to Jessie had been strong back then. His feelings for her now were getting completely out of hand. "What's their record?"

"They've won one and lost six," she said, sipping her cocoa and gazing around the stands.

"Damn." Times _had_ changed. Salt Fork had made it to the play-offs his junior and senior year.

Kelsey climbed over everyone's legs to return to her seat and grabbed her plate of nachos and took a bite, then licked the gooey cheese from her fingers.

"Kelsey, don't lick your fingers," Ruth scolded. "Where are your manners?" She handed her granddaughter a paper napkin.

"Aw, Grams."

"Don't 'aw, Grams' me, young lady." Ruth smiled and gave her a quick hug. "They're raising the flag. Now watch those nachos and don't spill anything when you stand up."

The band played the national anthem. Not many people sang along, but a familiar voice, slightly off-key, belted out the words to "The Star Spangled Banner". Cameron turned toward the voice. Sure enough it was old Mr. Butler. He'd always sung loudly at the games when Cameron was on the team.

The eerie sensation of being caught in a time warp wove its ghostly fingers around him. The same strangling feelings he'd felt as a kid enveloped him now, stifling and smothering him. He broke out in a cold sweat.

Jessie laid her fingers on his arm, squeezed, comforted. Something in her eyes and her touch calmed the turmoil roiling inside before it almost devoured him.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Cameron forced himself to smile. He stroked her hand still lying on his arm, thankful for the serenity she'd bestowed on him. "Sure. I'm okay." _Now._

He sipped his hot chocolate and tried not to think about Jessie sitting close beside him. He especially tried not to think about her calming effect on his restless soul. Could Jess be the cure he'd been seeking for so long?

When she crossed her legs, her thigh brushed against his, and desire tugged low in Cameron's stomach. Visions of smooth bare legs tangling with his made his heart pound. His feelings for Jessie were definitely getting out of hand. He'd been aware of all sorts of strange emotions since he'd been home, emotions he'd rather live without.

At half time, Jessie pointed to the gates. "Look, they're bringing in the homecoming candidates." She opened her pad and scratched some notes as four classic convertibles snaked along the paved track surrounding the football field. Four girls and four boys waved to the crowds.

Once again, time rolled back as Cameron saw himself riding in one of those cars with Patti. The feelings of being trapped and suffocated rose within him again.

Jessie looked at him and smiled, her eyes holding a promise of passion and something more. Cameron took a deep cleansing breath and smiled back. He was at a crossroads in his life and didn't have a plan or a clue. The only thing he knew was somehow, some way, Jessie played an important part in his future.

****

_The Bulldogs are going for the field goal with seven seconds left in the game. Randy Garrison runs, kicks it high . . . and it's good! Salt Fork wins: 17-14!_ The voice over the loudspeaker reverberated with excitement as the fans in the seats went wild.

"We won! We won!" Kelsey screamed, jumping up and down, spilling popcorn all over the place.

Jessie cheered at the top of her lungs and turned to hug Cameron. He caught her to him and squeezed her tight. Tilting her head back, she laughed with joy. It felt so good and so right to be in Cameron's arms, but something was wrong, she could sense it.

"You two are getting mighty lovey-dovey," Ruth said.

Jessie blushed as Cameron quickly set her away from him. She hurriedly scribbled some last minute notes for her story, trying to ignore the abandoned feeling in the pit of her stomach. He was already distancing himself from her. She swallowed a sob as she collected her things and stuffed them in her bag.

Her notepad dropped to the ground and Ruth bent to pick it up. "I wonder why Dallas never showed up?" She handed the pad to Jessie.

"I don't know," Austin said, gathering the empty cups and scattered wrappers. "He's really going to be sorry he missed the game."

Kelsey stood on the bleachers, watching the crowd, waving to friends. "Are you taking Jessie to the dance tonight, Uncle Cam?"

"I'm not sure . . ." He stared at Jessie in a strange way.

She felt tension radiating from Cameron's body, a different kind of tension. Was he having regrets? About coming back, wanting her, making love to her? He was backing off; he didn't want a relationship with her because she didn't fit in with his plans. She never had.

"Hey," Kelsey said, standing on tiptoes, craning her neck for a better look. "Uncle Dallas is coming up here."

Jessie slung her purse over her shoulder _. Great, just great._ Dallas never missed a chance to hassle her about the mineral rights. She hadn't seen him since she'd given the go ahead to lease them. She was stuck with no way to escape, surrounded by McCades.

Dallas fought his way against the crowd, and as he approached, Jessie knew something terrible must have happened. A frown etched his forehead, his lips were set in a rigid line and his eyes smoldered with anger.

Dallas McCade was an intimidating man, even in a good mood. In a towering rage--Jessie shuddered. Luckily, he had never lost his temper in their dealings together.

"Something's definitely up," Tyler said. "Dallas looks madder than a hornet."

With the crowd finally behind him, the oldest McCade brother climbed the last few steps to where Jessie stood with his family. She wondered what had happened to make him so angry. When he fixed his eyes on her, she instinctively stepped closer to Cameron.

Dallas looked at his brother, then back at Jessie. "It's too late to hide. I didn't think you'd really do it, Jessie. Mom trusted you, but I should have known better. You're a lying, conniving, scheming . . . _woman!_ " He spat out the last word with scathing contempt.

Cameron took a step forward, his fists clenched by his sides. "Dallas . . ." he said warningly.

"What on earth is wrong with you?" Ruth cried. "Why are you talking so ugly to our sweet Jessie?"

"Our _sweet_ Jessie has gone behind our backs and leased the rights on the Diamondback Ranch to Copper River Oil Company."

"That's not true!" Jessie said.

Dallas snorted with disgust. "Copper River is moving heavy equipment onto the north section of the ranch. _My_ ranch, Jessie. They showed me the lease agreement. Your signature is on it."

Jessie bit her lip. "I know. I signed it. But I didn't do it behind your back. I told Ruth--"

"Oh, dear," Ruth said, sitting down again.

Dallas' jaw dropped. "You told Mom, but didn't tell me?"

Cameron put his arm around Jessie's shoulder. "She told me, too."

"And no one bothered to tell me?" Dallas yelled. "To warn me?"

Jessie looked at Ruth. "You said you would tell Dallas. Why didn't you?"

Tears gathered in Ruth's eyes. She wiped her nose on a napkin. "I didn't think anything would happen so soon. I put off telling him, because I knew he'd be upset. And with Cameron coming back for homecoming . . . I knew he was coming back to see you, Jessie. I didn't want to spoil things for you two."

Jessie faced Dallas again. "I'm sorry. I know I promised not to lease the mineral rights, but I was going to lose the garage. There was no other way."

"There's always another way, Jess." Dallas settled his Stetson on his head, turned his back on her, and stalked down the stadium steps.

Ruth stood up. "I want to go home," she said, her voice sounding old and fragile.

"Ruth, I'm sorry. I should have told Dallas myself," Jessie cried. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I know how all of you feel about drilling on your land. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Ruth blew her nose on the napkin again. "Oh, Jessie. I know you didn't. But Dallas is so angry . . ." She patted Jessie's forearm. "We'll talk later. I need to get on home."

She hurried down the concrete steps. Tyler and Austin followed, with Kelsey trailing behind.

Jessie was left alone with Cameron. He was watching the cheerleaders down on the field, making a human pyramid to celebrate the victory.

"Thanks for standing up for me," she said.

He didn't turn to face her, but kept staring down at the cheerleaders on the field. "Jess, I . . . Damn!"

An audible gasp rose from the crowds milling around in the stands.

Jessie gripped his arm. ""Oh my God! They've fallen!"

The girl who'd been on top lay still on the ground. The other cheerleaders gathered around her.

"Cameron, you have to do something," Jessie said. "The ambulance has already left the stadium."

"Come on!" He grabbed Jessie's hand and ran down the concrete steps. Vaulting over the chain link fence, he left Jessie to follow any which way she could.

### CHAPTER TEN

Cameron sat in the back of Gussie Ferguson's Florist Shop delivery van with Hilda Vandeford lying on the makeshift stretcher. The girl's mother sat across from him holding her daughter's hand. Mayor Vandeford was at the wheel, with Gussie riding shotgun.

As soon as he'd reached the fallen cheerleader, Cameron had gone into doctor mode, issuing orders, focusing on what he could do to stabilize the injured girl. She'd tumbled from the top of the human pyramid and landed in a crumpled heap. Luckily, she'd only suffered a broken wrist and collarbone. Maybe a slight concussion.

It could have been worse. Much worse.

The interior of the van was dark except for the headlights streaming in from the back windows. Jessie was following in Cameron's car. She'd wanted to ride in the van, but there wasn't room and they'd need his Jag to return to Salt Fork.

"Is she going to be all right?" Mrs. Vandeford asked for the hundredth time. He couldn't blame her. She was worried about her daughter.

He leaned over Hilda and examined her eyes one more time, looking for signs of concussion. "I believe she'll be fine once she gets the broken bones set."

The girl groaned and tried to adjust her position on the stretcher. "Oh, Mama--"

"Shh, honey," said her mother. "We're almost to the hospital."

"I hurt . . . all over."

"I know, but Dr. McCade's here. You're going to be fine." Mrs. Vandeford smiled tremulously at Cameron. "Thank goodness, you were in the stands. I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't been there."

"I'm glad I could help."

The woman smoothed her daughter's forehead, wiping wisps of hair back in place. "I wish they'd hurry up and find a doctor for the new clinic." She hesitated. "I don't know you, but I've heard about you. Small town gossip, you know. Have you thought about--oh, my."

She gripped the edge of her seat as the van lurched to a stop. The mayor jumped out and came around to open the back doors. "We're here."

"Finally," his wife said in relief.

Cameron climbed out and stepped back as two orderlies in green scrubs rushed out of the emergency room to help remove the patient from the vehicle. He quickly told them what had happened and the extent of the injuries, then watched as they whisked Hilda into the hospital, her mother by her side.

Mayor Vandeford stayed behind to shake Cameron's hand. "I can't thank you enough, Dr. McCade. You saved my daughter's life--"

"It wasn't that bad--"

"No, thank God, but it could have been. I don't know if you're aware, but Salt Fork is in dire need of a competent, dedicated doctor. Jessie Devine has worked to get the new clinic built, but we're still looking for a doctor. I know Jessie was meaning to ask you to fill the position. I hope you will seriously consider the offer."

"I don't know . . ."

"Think about it," the mayor said. "I came to live in Salt Fork after you left town, so I don't know you personally, but I know your family. The job is yours, if you want it."

Cameron didn't know what to say. His first impulse was to say yes. But he wasn't used to acting on impulse. He was acting on gut instinct where Jess was concerned and it was proving to be a wild ride. His life and career needed to be carefully planned and thought out. He'd always planned everything carefully in the past.

And look where it's gotten you.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jessie hurrying toward him from the parking lot. That calmness only she could provide settled in his stomach.

For years, he'd been living according to his well-thought out plans. But he wasn't happy or content. He lead a hectic life, he was nursing an ulcer and he'd become someone he didn't even like. And worst of all, he'd never conquered the damned restlessness that had dogged his every step.

"Dr. McCade," the mayor said, "I have to go see about my daughter. Thank you again. Please consider the clinic. Salt Fork needs you." He turned toward the automatic glass doors leading to the emergency room.

_To hell with planning_. "Wait a minute," Cameron said.

The mayor turned toward him. "Yes?"

_It was now or never._ "I'll take the job."

The mayor beamed a smile and walked back to shake his hand. "Thank you, Dr. McCade. Thank you so much. Welcome back to Salt Fork."

Jessie crossed the street just as the mayor entered the emergency room. She was out of breath, her cheeks glowing from the cold wind. She looked beautiful.

In that moment, Cameron knew he'd made the right decision.

"Is Hilda going to be okay?" she asked as soon as she reached his side.

Cameron pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard. She felt so good, smelled so sweet, and tasted oh so wonderful.

Jessie laughed. "I take it, she's going to fine?"

"Yes, I think so."

"I'm glad. You were great back there. Taking control of the situation, making sure Hilda wasn't dangerously injured. I know the mayor and his wife are thankful you were at the game and able to help."

"That's my job, Jess. Helping people."

"But not every person would have acted so quickly. It was something to see you in action. I can tell you're an excellent doctor."

Cameron smiled. "Well, thank you, sweetheart. I enjoy helping people. It's very satisfying. Exhausting, but satisfying."

"You wouldn't have it any other way, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't." Cameron hugged her close and twirled around, capturing her lips in another soul-searing kiss. He'd never get tired of kissing Jessie. Never. And now, they'd have a chance to see where their relationship would take them. They'd have time to explore the volatile chemistry they shared.

Jessie pulled back. "Not that I'm complaining, but this isn't exactly a private place to be doing this."

Cameron hugged her again. "We're celebrating."

"Oh? What's the occasion?"

Cameron set her from him and made a little bow. For the first time in his life he felt carefree and content. "Congratulate me, sweetheart. You're looking at Salt Fork's new resident physician."

Jessie's jaw dropped. " _What?_ "

"Mayor Vandeford asked me if I wanted to move my practice to Salt Fork. I told him yes. He said you were meaning to ask me. So why didn't you?"

Jessie looked shell-shocked. "But I did. I asked you that first night when your car broke down and I drove you to the ranch. You told me you had no intention of moving back to Salt Fork--"

"Well, I changed my mind."

"But what about your plans? What about that big promotion?"

"I declined the promotion when I went back to Houston. It didn't feel right."

"And this does?" she asked, searching his face. She was so dear to him. Why hadn't he realized it before?

He took her hand in his. "This feels very right. A couple of nights ago up on Lover's Point, you and I started over. Now, I'm starting over with my career."

Jess removed her hand from his grasp. "Are you sure you want to do this, Cameron? It's such a drastic change. Have you thought it through?"

He shrugged. "Only to a certain degree. I thought I had everything I wanted in Houston. But something was lacking, Jess. And I realized I missed Salt Fork and the ranch." _And you_. But now wasn't the time to tell her that. Their relationship was still too fragile. Cameron didn't want anything to rock the boat.

"You can't just leave Houston and your practice. That's all you ever wanted. You couldn't wait to leave Salt Fork when you were a kid. And you rarely came back to visit."

"I know. But some of that was because I've been too damned busy to visit. Med school was brutal; my residency even more so. Besides, what does an eighteen-year-old know about life? How many kids that age know what they really want?"

Again, she searched his face as if trying to read his soul. "You always seemed to know what you wanted."

"I made a wrong turn somewhere along the line." And he'd just figured out where that wrong turn had been.

Jessie took a deep breath. "So, you're really coming back? Where will you live?"

Cameron took her in his arms again. "I'll stay at the ranch, at first. Then you can help me find a house in town. I'll need to live close to the clinic."

"The clinic," she said. "I can't believe you're going to actually work at the clinic."

It was his turn to search her face. Something didn't seem quite right. "You haven't congratulated me, Jess. Don't you want me to move back?"

Jessie looped her arms around his neck and smiled, but it looked forced to Cameron. "Of course. If it's what you really want."

"I really want."

"Then congratulations, Cameron."

He kissed her and for a split second, she hesitated before melting under his onslaught. He would have to figure out what was wrong, but now that he was moving back to Salt Fork, he would have plenty of time to devote to Jessie.

He could hardly wait.

****

"So, darlin', I don't understand why you're moping around like this." Sarah Sue wiped the Formica countertop with a sponge. Jessie sat on one of the stools, drinking a cup of coffee. It was late and the diner was closed. Oftentimes, Jessie came to Sarah Sue's Café after she'd closed up shop to visit and gossip, share a little girl-talk.

"I know Cameron's been gone a week, but he's coming back," Sarah Sue said. "And he's coming back for good. You should be in tall cotton, what with him moving his practice to Salt Fork. Your wish has finally come true. And you told me yourself, you wished he'd work in that clinic of yours. That wish has come true, too."

Jessie stirred more sugar into the cup. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I should be overjoyed. And you're right; I have wished that Cameron would return and want to take up where we left off all those years ago. So what the hell is the matter with me?"

"You're gun-shy, that's what you are," said Sarah Sue. "And who could blame you? Cameron hurt you when he left to go to college. But you've been given another chance. Go for it, girl."

Jessie sipped her coffee. Going to the prom with Cameron had been a major turning point in her life. Up on Lover's Point, he'd awakened her to passion and desire. Given her a taste of what it could be like between a man and a woman. _Between them_. He'd been kind and gentle. She'd been so young and inexperienced.

She remembered being scared, too. Sitting in the parked truck alone with Cameron McCade . . .

"Earth to Jessie." Sarah Sue waved the coffee pot under Jessie's nose, jolting her from her thoughts.

"Sorry." She took another sip of coffee. It was cold. Just like she had felt after the prom when Cameron had left her on the doorstep and walked out of her life.

"Let me freshen your coffee for you," Sarah Sue said.

"Sure."

"Where'd you go? You were as far away as the man in the moon."

"Just thinking."

"About Cameron?"

"What else?"

"Seems to me, you've been thinking about that man your whole life."

Jessie stared at the dark fragrant liquid in her cup and nodded.

Sarah Sue set the coffee pot down and picked up her sponge again. "Well, the good Lord has seen fit to give you and Cameron another chance. Just like He gave TR another chance with you."

Jessie's head snapped up. "What do you mean by that? I wasn't TR's second chance."

"Sure you were, darlin'. TR lost Dolly Mae in the prime of his life. Then he married you, didn't he?"

"Yes, but I wasn't a very good wife." TR had deserved better, no getting around that fact.

"You made him happy, Jessie. He told me so himself."

"He did? When? Where?"

"Right here. He was sitting on that very same stool you're sitting on. He used to come in at closing time, same as you do. Have his cup of coffee and piece of pie. I may not be a bartender or a psychologist, but people tend to tell me their trials and tribulations."

Jessie couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What did TR tell you?"

"Well, now. He was afraid to marry you because he knew he didn't love you like he loved his Dolly Mae. Didn't think it'd be fair to you."

Good lord. TR had thought that? "He never said anything--"

"Of course, not. He knew you didn't love him that way either."

That was the god-awful-truth, and the guilt had been killing her. Jessie cupped her hands around her mug. "I know I didn't love him as I should have. I married him without giving him my heart. But I learned to love him. It was just different, that's all." Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she might start believing it.

Sarah Sue smiled. "Sure you loved him. Everybody loved him. TR Devine was a good man."

"Yes, he was," Jessie said. "But I still don't think I was a very good wife. I failed him, Sarah Sue. I couldn't give him the child he so desperately wanted."

"That wasn't your fault. You tried, didn't you? You didn't deny him in bed, now did you?"

"No, of course not."

"There you go then. Stop beating yourself up over it. You've got yourself another chance with Cameron McCade. Don't let it slip through your fingers, darlin'."

"Just because Cameron's moving back and has agreed to practice in the medical clinic--that doesn't mean he wants to include me in his new life."

Sarah Sue almost snorted. "Yeah, right. Are you blind? That man's smitten with you. The signs are there if you just look."

"I'm not so sure." Jessie sighed. "I'll have to take it one day at a time, like always. If it happens, it happens."

"And if it doesn't," Sarah Sue said, "just enjoy it while it lasts, darlin'."

"And no regrets," Jessie said with a lift of her chin. "I'm finished living with regret and guilt. I'll do the best I can and to hell with all the rest."

****

Six weeks after the homecoming game, Cameron was set up at the clinic and ready for patients. He'd been living at the ranch for the past month and a half, but tonight he'd be sleeping in the house Jess had found for him two blocks from the clinic. She and his mother and brothers had spent the entire Saturday afternoon helping him move in.

Thanksgiving had come and gone. And so had Christmas. He'd been in Houston for both holidays, wishing he were back in Salt Fork. Wishing he could be with Jess.

And now he was. Life was good and looking to get better. The restlessness was gone, replaced with anticipation for the future.

"Where do you want these?" Tyler stood in the doorway leading to the living room, holding a box that looked heavy.

"What's in it?" Cameron asked. "It should be marked."

"Medical books. And I hope to God it's the last one. How many damn books you got, bro?"

"Quite a few. Here, give me it to me. These go in my bedroom."

"With pleasure."

"Quit your bellyaching--"

"Hey, Cam! Where do you want this?" Austin came up behind Tyler, carrying a big silver cooking pot.

Cameron looked at it and frowned. "That's not mine."

Ruth scooted in to stand between her two sons. "It's mine. I cooked a batch of chicken and dumplings yesterday. Put it on the stove, Austin. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes."

"I'll go get Jess." Cameron climbed the stairs of the old Victorian house. The place was a lot different from his loft in downtown Houston. Jess had brought over some quilts to drape over the leather furniture and she'd placed several vases of flowers on the chrome tables. Things were shaping up nicely. He felt at home here, and he liked the feeling.

Now, if only he could get things situated between himself and Jess, all would be good. Something was still not right with her. She seemed to be trying too hard, if that made any sense.

At the top of the stairs, he walked down the hall to his bedroom and stopped at the door. One wall was built entirely in shelves, and Jessie had spent the last couple of hours arranging his books. He'd tried to help her, but he was constantly being called away by his mother and brothers to oversee the placement of furniture and other stuff.

Jessie had made up his bed and he looked longingly from the lovely woman engrossed in her work to the soft bed where he wanted to take her and break in the new house in style. After dinner, he'd have to get rid of his family.

Speaking of which . . .

"Hey, Jess, time to wrap things up for the night. Mom's brought chicken and dumplings for dinner."

She dropped the book she was putting on the top shelf and whirled around. "Damn, you scared me."

Cameron set the box of books on the floor and closed the distance between them. "I didn't mean to scare you." He took her in his arms, loving the feel of her against his body. "Let's go downstairs and eat, then you and I can come up here for a little dessert."

Jessie held onto his shoulders and smiled. "That sounds scrumptious." She stood on tiptoes and kissed him. "Come on, I'm starved."

"Wait a minute." He tightened his hold on her and really kissed her, crushing her mouth beneath his, relishing the taste of her.

Jessie pushed out of his embrace. "Food first, buster. Lovemaking later. We've got company in the house."

" _We've?_ " He liked the sound of that.

" _You_ have company." She inched toward the door and smiled a provocative little smile. "Race you! Last one downstairs has to wash dishes."

She took off down the hall and Cameron didn't waste any time. He overtook her at the top of the stairs and scooped her in his arms. Jess squealed and threw her arms around his neck, laughing. He loved the sound of her laugh.

He stomped down the stairs, with a giggling armful of woman, his heart pounding, his body humming.

Tyler stepped out of the kitchen, with arms folded and a lopsided grin on his face. "If I'd known Jessie needed moving, I'd have volunteered for the job."

Cameron felt Jessie stiffen, her laughter suddenly gone. He wasn't quite sure why she'd stopped giggling, but only knew he had to do something quick.

"We were racing to the kitchen and you know how I hate to lose," Cameron said.

"Don't I, though," Tyler said, his smile widening.

Jessie wiggled in Cameron's arms and started kicking her legs. "Put me down, Cameron. Right now."

"In a minute, sweetheart. Hey, Ty, I could use your help here."

Tyler stepped forward. "At your service, Dr. McCade."

Cameron hated to let Tyler touch Jessie, but it couldn't be helped. "Here you go. Keep her a minute until I'm in the kitchen. I sure don't want to do dishes tonight."

He deposited the astonished Jessie into his brother's arms and made a production of stepping inside the kitchen. "I win!"

Jessie slid out of Tyler's grasp and marched into the kitchen, frowning mightily. "Cheater," she mumbled as she passed Cameron on the way to the table. She felt him behind her; aware of his closeness and blushed when he put his hands on her shoulders to guide her forward.

Ruth, Austin and Kelsey sat at the table. Tyler took a place near his niece. Cameron pulled a chair for Jessie, but she stood for a moment, looking at the McCade family. They were such a close-knit bunch. Except one member was conspicuously absent. He'd kept away all day long.

Jessie hated to think she'd come between Cameron and Dallas. The rancher hadn't spoken to her since the day he'd stomped up the stadium steps and told her Copper River Oil was preparing to drill on his land. He hadn't forgiven her for signing the lease papers. And he resented the fact that she and Cameron were dating.

Jessie sighed. Ever since Cameron had announced he was moving back to Salt Fork and working at the clinic, things had been getting more complicated by the minute. Oh well. All she could do was roll with the punches, and wait and see. She was good at that.

"Something sure smells good." She sat down beside Ruth, who smiled a greeting. Cameron took a seat on her left.

Ruth ladled a big helping of the dumplings in a bowl and handed it to Jessie. "Here you go, dear. Eat hearty. I know you've been working your fanny off all day long."

Kelsey held her bowl for her serving. "I've been helping, too, Grams."

"Of course, you have. Here you go, sweetie."

Ruth finished dishing out dumplings and silence descended around the table as everyone dug in and ate.

How long had Jessie wanted to be a part of a family like this? Ruth had always been like a mother to her and Jessie was glad the awkwardness of the mineral rights fiasco had faded away between them. If only Dallas could forgive and forget.

Jessie felt Cameron's knee brush hers under the table. She glanced at him and he smiled. As usual, her heart sank to her toes and the pleasant sensation of anticipation bubbled just beneath the surface of her skin.

She didn't know what the future held for her and Cameron. She'd just take one day at a time. She was good at that, too.

****

"There's going to be a Valentine's Dance next Friday night," Cameron told Jessie. She was helping him hang curtains in the house. The house he'd lived in for over a month now.

"Really? Where?" Jessie handed him the curtain rod. He was standing on a ladder, installing hardware.

"Over at the Rocky Hollow Club in Cactus Gap. One of my patients told me about it this afternoon. Do you want to go?"

Jessie picked up the fabric panel she'd sewn for Cameron's den. "I've never been to a Valentine's Dance."

"Well then, you're in for a treat. I'll pick you up at six, we'll grab a bite at Sarah Sue's, then head on over to Cactus Gap."

Jessie smiled as she handed him the curtain panel. "It's a date, Dr. McCade. You going to wear your Stetson?"

"Don't I always?"

"Not always." Jessie sighed and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "One of these days . . ."

His eyes glittered dangerously seductive. "What are you saying? You want me to wear my hat in bed?"

Jessie shrugged. "A girl can always dream, can't she?"

Cameron climbed down from the ladder and tossed the curtain aside, amorous intent shining in his eyes as he advanced toward her.

"Hey, what are you doing? It's going to get wrinkled," Jessie cried, making a mad dash for the curtain. "I don't want to iron that sucker again."

"It'll be fine," he said, catching her arm and pulling her to him. "I'd like to make all your dreams come true, Jess."

She snuggled closer and looped her arms around his neck. "You've already made two of them come true."

Cameron nibbled her lips. "And which ones would those be?"

"You've moved back to Salt Fork and you're making my clinic a reality. I'm thankful for that. You don't know how much. I've felt so guilty about TR dying because there was no doctor close by."

"That wasn't your fault, sweetheart."

"I know, but I feel bad about TR. I wasn't a good wife. The chemistry between us was nothing compared to what you and I share."

"That wasn't your fault either," Cameron said. "You need to let go of the guilt, Jess. You were doing the best you could at the time."

"You can't know that."

He kissed her forehead and gave her a hug. "I know you. You don't do anything halfway. And you're stubborn as hell."

Jessie searched his face. "Yeah, well. Building the clinic and getting it up and running has helped me feel a little better."

"I'm glad, Jess. Now I'd like to make that other dream of yours come true."

Jessie smiled. "I'll go get your Stetson."

The doorbell rang and the look of consternation on Cameron's face made Jessie giggle.

"I wonder who that could be?" she asked.

Cameron shrugged. "Whoever it is, I'll get rid of them quick."

Jessie skipped along beside him, down the hall and down the stairs. She could see Ruth through the glass panes of the front door. "Be nice to your mother, Cameron."

He sighed. "I'm always nice to my mother. What I really want is to be nice to you." He patted her butt when he passed her on the way to the door.

"You can be nice to me later, Dr. Cowboy. I'm counting on it."

****

The Valentine's Dance was over, and Jessie had to admit it was the best dance she'd ever gone to--after the prom, of course. Both times she'd been Cameron's date. But she'd been his last minute choice all those years ago, no matter what he'd told her.

Tonight, she'd been his first choice. And it felt wonderful.

She leaned her head against the leather-cushioned seat of the Jag, humming one of the love songs the band had played, smiling dreamily, thinking about all the slow dances they'd shared.

The miles flew by and the lights of Salt Fork soon came into view. It took several minutes to realize Cameron hadn't turned off the road heading toward her place. He'd driven right past.

"Where are we going? I thought you were taking me home."

"I'll take you home later. We're going to Lover's Point."

"Lover's Point?"

"Yeah, there's something I want to do up there and it involves you."

She smiled hugely. "Are we going to make out?"

He chuckled, the deep sound flowing through her. "We can, if you want."

"Oh, I want."

Cameron revved the motor and the car shot up the steep incline of the bluff overlooking the canyon. He cut the motor, turned in his seat and faced Jessie.

She suddenly felt nervous, which was ridiculous. She'd come a long way from the scared fifteen-year-old she'd been that first time she'd sat parked on the bluff with Cameron.

"I would have thought there'd be more cars up here on Valentine's night," she said, looking around.

"Lucky for me, we have the place to ourselves."

He leaned across the console and took her hand in his. He kissed her knuckles and her palm. "I brought you up here because this was where we first kissed. It's also where we started over last October. You remember?"

Jessie nodded. "I remember."

"I've fallen in love with you, Jess. I think I fell in love with you the first time we parked up here after the prom, but I was too set on carrying out my plans to stop and realize it."

"Cameron, I--"

He put his fingers over her lips. "Let me finish, sweetheart. I know you had a crush on me when we were kids. I'm hoping it's grown into something more. I'm hoping you feel the same for me as I feel for you now." He fished in his sports coat pocket, drew out a square jeweler's box of black velvet and opened it.

Jessie gasped when she saw the large diamond ring glittering in the moonlight that was spilling through the windshield of the Jag. "Oh my . . ."

Cameron took her left hand in his and pulled her close, laying her palm on his chest. She felt the steady beat of his heart and the heat of his skin beneath the smooth fabric of his shirt.

"Jess, I love you like I never thought I could love anyone. I want you to be my wife, share my life and have my babies."

A tear slid down Jessie's cheek and she bit her lip. This is what she'd dreamed of ever since she could remember. Her most precious wish was coming true.

But it was too late.

How could she marry Cameron now? She'd broken up his tight-knit family. She had come between him and Dallas. Ruth might say Dallas would come around, but Jessie didn't put much faith in the statement. Dallas McCade was a man who held a grudge.

And what about children? Children she would never be able to give Cameron. Children he so obviously wanted and took for granted she could give him.

Jessie still felt remorse about not giving TR a baby. How much worse would she feel, not being able to give Cameron a child? A child, Jessie suddenly realized, she wanted very badly.

"Jess? You haven't answered. I'm asking you to marry me."

Jessie took a deep fortifying breath. Would she regret turning down Cameron's offer? You bet, but the alternative seemed far worse. Besides, she was used to living with regret. And she was used to living without Cameron in her life. She'd been doing it for the last seventeen years. She could keep on doing it.

Shaking her head, Jessie tried not to cry. "I'm sorry, Cameron. But I can't marry you."

### CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cameron went through the motions of seeing patients, looking down throats and into ears, listening to heartbeats and lungs, writing out prescriptions, but his mind wasn't on the work. He kept berating himself for springing the marriage proposal on Jessie too soon.

That's what came from not thoroughly planning things out. Oh, he'd planned to take her to Lover's Point and he'd bought the ring. But he hadn't taken her feelings into consideration. He'd thought she loved him, but now he realized she'd never actually said the words.

Well, neither had he, before Friday night. But that didn't change the fact that he _did_ love her. And she loved him, too. There was no way she could respond to his kisses and lovemaking so deeply if she didn't love him.

Cameron made notes on a patient's chart and gave it to the nurse. He walked to his office and closed the door. Sitting at his desk, he gazed out the window at the reddish brown fields stretching almost to the horizon.

He was glad he'd moved his practice to Salt Fork, and he enjoyed living in the house in the middle of town. But it all felt hollow and empty, because he'd pictured Jessie at his side every step of the way.

Never in a million years had he imagined a refusal when he'd asked her to marry him. They'd gotten along so well; not only in bed, but in every little way as well. He didn't remember the drive back to her house that night. He'd been in a state of shock.

He shook his head. Valentine's Day would never be the same for him. Not if he took Jessie's refusal seriously. Why had his proposal backfired? Something was going on in that stubborn brain of hers. Something keeping her from taking what Cameron was offering. It had something to do with TR Devine, he was sure of that.

Acting on impulse could only get a man so far. Especially a man who'd planned every little detail of his life up to now. Cameron decided it was time to make a few new plans. Comprehensive plans, if he wanted to convince Jessie they belonged together.

And he'd never wanted anything so badly that he could remember. He smiled when he spotted a robin on the brown lawn outside the clinic window. A sign of spring and rebirth. A new beginning.

Oh yeah. It was time to make new plans and put them into action.

****

The pounding in Jessie's head woke her from a restless sleep. Slowly, she opened one eye and peeked at the clock on her nightstand. _Ten-thirty_. Groaning, she rolled over and covered her head with a pillow to block out the bright morning sunshine. She had made it through another night without Cameron, and it was hell.

She hadn't seen or heard from him in days, but it was her own damn fault, wasn't it? She'd thrown his marriage proposal in his face, so what had she expected?

Maybe a phone call? An email? Maybe a demand to know her reasons? But no, she'd heard nothing.

Cameron hadn't even tried to change her mind when she'd said she couldn't marry him. He'd just snapped the velvet jeweler's box closed, apologized and drove her home. The silence had hung heavy in the dark car. It was one of the worse nights of her life.

Jessie swung her legs to the floor and stood. For a split second, she felt dizzy and caught hold of the bed poster for support. She waited for the room to stop spinning, before heading to the bathroom. She really needed to take better care of herself and stop wallowing in misery and self-pity. She'd only brought it on herself after all.

After washing her face and combing her hair, she felt somewhat better. In the kitchen, Jessie started the coffee maker and soon the lovely aroma of coffee filled the air. Pulling her robe closer around her shoulders, she stood at the kitchen sink and stared out the window, waiting for the coffee to brew.

Yeah, she should really stop indulging in this pity party. She'd gotten through some tough times in her life before this. She could do it again.

The coffee maker stopped gurgling and Jessie poured a cup of coffee. Hoping a jolt of caffeine would jump-start her body, she took a sip and the hot liquid scorched her tongue.

Good, she was beginning to feel again. Her whole body had been numb since Cameron had left her on her doorstep Friday evening. _Valentine's Day._ The day dedicated to love. The day she'd stomped on Cameron McCade's heart. The day he'd told her he loved her and wanted to marry her . . . and she'd refused.

What in the world was wrong with her? Her most secret wish had come true and she'd thrown it away? Why hadn't she talked to him about her not being able to have children? Why hadn't she told him she loved him?

Smooth, Jess. Just flat out refuse his love and proposal. She'd never been good with the man/woman thing. But that didn't begin to explain her actions. She must be sick in the head.

Jessie took another sip of coffee and squared her shoulders. She was through with crying. She'd go into work today and pretend nothing had happened. She should be thankful Cameron had returned to Salt Fork and was practicing at the clinic. That was one dream that had come true.

And if she had to live the rest of her life without the man she'd always loved? Jessie sighed. She seemed destined to live with some kind of regret hanging over her. She'd move on somehow. She always did.

****

Cameron rushed up the steps of City Hall, adjusting the tie he'd thrown on just minutes before. He'd almost forgotten the City Council meeting tonight. The meeting where he was going to be presented a plaque thanking him for taking the position at the clinic. Jessie would also be there, since she'd been the one to get the clinic up and running.

They'd planned on attending together, but that was _before_. Before Jessie had refused to be his wife.

And he hadn't had a chance to put any new plan into action. Hell, he'd been so busy he hadn't even thought of a plan. The flu had hit the residents of Salt Fork with a vengeance and Cameron was kept running from dawn to dusk, seeing patients.

When he opened the council chamber's doors, the first person he saw was Jessie. She was wearing that blue dress that had nearly driven him out of his mind with desire when she'd worn it to his mom's birthday party last fall. Damn, that seemed like a lifetime ago. So many things had changed since then.

Mayor Vandeford came forward to shake Cameron's hand, a welcoming smile on his face. "Dr. McCade, so glad you could make it."

Cameron shook hands with the man, eyes still focused on Jessie who was standing across the council chamber talking to a group of people. "I'm honored to be here. How's your daughter doing? She fully recovered from her accident at the homecoming game last fall?"

The mayor nodded. "Oh yes, and she's back to cheerleading which she loves. My Hilda's a little trooper. I can't thank you enough for your quick actions that night."

"No problem. That's my job. Glad to hear she's okay."

Just then the doors opened to admit more people, and Cameron was glad to see his mother, Austin, Kelsey and Tyler among the crowd. The mayor greeted the McCades, then turned away when someone asked him a question.

"Oh, Cam," Ruth said, a little out of breath. "I thought we were going to be late. I wouldn't miss this for the world. I'm so proud of you."

He hugged his mom and ruffled Kelsey's hair. "Dallas couldn't make it?"

Ruth sniffed and fished in the pocket of her coat for a tissue. "He's still angry about . . . well, you know."

Tyler smacked Cameron on the shoulder. "Don't worry about old Dallas. He can't stay mad forever."

Austin looked around the chambers. "Quite a crowd here tonight. We'd better grab some seats. Break a leg, Cam."

The mayor returned to Cameron's side. "Sorry about that. Duties and all. I'm sure you know most of the people here, but there are a few new faces. Let me introduce you around before the meeting gets underway."

As Cameron followed the mayor and shook hands with various councilmen, he kept Jessie in his peripheral line of vision. She'd glanced his way only once, then quickly looked away. She seemed pale. Was she ill or just uncomfortable?

Damn, he missed her. This situation was totally unnecessary. Two people who loved each other, enjoyed the same things and shared incredible sexual chemistry should be able to marry and have kids. What could possibly be keeping her from accepting his proposal?

The meeting was called to order. Cameron sat beside the mayor and Jessie sat three seats down the table.

Old business was discussed and Cameron listened with half an ear, his mind on his personal problems and what he could do to fix things between Jessie and himself.

Because if things weren't fixed soon, Cameron had the sick feeling that Jessie would be lost to him forever.

****

Jessie couldn't remember when she'd felt this uncomfortable and uneasy. With Cameron sitting so close, yet so far away, she was unable to keep her mind on the business at hand

In a few minutes, she was supposed to stand near Cameron and present him with a token of appreciation from the Chamber of Commerce. She was going to have to touch him while she fastened the gold pin to his jacket, smell his unique smell, feel the heat from his big body. The body she'd become intimately acquainted with over the past several months. The body belonging to the man she loved with all her heart, but had refused to marry.

What in the world was wrong with her?

"And now we come to the part of the program that's my favorite," the mayor announced. "Tonight, it's with great pleasure and honor that I present a hometown boy who has come back to roost, a man who has taken on a position that is near and dear to our hearts. Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Cameron McCade."

Everyone stood and the room rocked with applause and whistles. Jessie watched from her vantage point as Cameron walked to the front of the council table where the mayor handed him a large wooden plaque.

Ruth and his brothers were sitting in the audience and Jessie could see the pride in Ruth's eyes as everyone applauded loud and long. Jessie craned her neck looking for Dallas, but he was nowhere to be seen. The big rancher was obviously still angry with Cameron. Maybe when he found out she'd refused to marry his brother, Dallas would forgive Cameron and be friends again. She should feel good about that, but it afforded her little comfort.

Mayor Vandeford looked Jessie's way and nodded. It was her turn. She swallowed her discomfort, took a deep breath and made her way to the podium. She was a grown woman. She could handle this. It would soon be over and she could go home to her empty house and have herself another good cry. Sooner or later, she'd run out of tears.

Jessie stood behind the podium and waited for the applause to die down before speaking. She kept her eyes forward, not wanting to look at Cameron before it was absolutely necessary. "I would also like to welcome Dr. McCade back to Salt Fork," she said. "As president of the Chamber of Commerce, I'm happy to offer my heartfelt gratitude to him for filling a much-needed void in our community. Now, the citizens of Salt Fork can receive quick efficient medical treatment without having to drive eighty miles to the nearest hospital."

Jessie paused and took another deep breath. With her knees shaking and hands trembling, she hoped she could perform her part in this presentation without losing her composure and embarrassing herself.

Mayor Vandeford stepped back and Jessie walked over to stand beside Cameron. His blue eyes fastened on hers and she couldn't seem to break the contact.

She cleared her throat and stuck out her hand. Cameron took it in his warm grasp and the current of electricity flowing up her arm nearly short-circuited her brain cells. Time stood still in that moment. Then Cameron released her hand and Jessie tried to smile. She knew it must be a poor excuse for a smile, because she could feel her mouth trembling in time to her pounding heart.

Courage, Jessie. You can do this.

She cleared her throat again. "I'm honored to present you the Chamber of Commerce's 'Welcome to Town' golden pin." She opened the small plastic box and removed the pin. Taking hold of the lapel of Cameron's sport coat, the same one he'd worn to the Valentine's Dance, Jessie affixed the small golden pin, then quickly stepped away. The audience once again broke out in applause.

Cameron moved close and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Jess. This means a lot to me."

His deep beloved voice seeped into her very soul. Jessie couldn't speak, only nodded, her throat clogged with unshed tears. She needed to get out of here now. But she couldn't without being impossibly rude.

"Won't you say a few words, Dr. McCade?" Mayor Vandeford asked.

"Of course." Cameron winked at Jessie before taking his place at the podium. She couldn't stop the flutter in her heart. He'd given her a look like he wasn't through with her and her body thrummed with excitement and dread. He didn't look like a man whose marriage proposal had so recently been rejected.

Jessie didn't wait to hear what Cameron said to the crowd. She didn't care if she was acting rudely. She had to get home. She had to get away from Cameron McCade and the knowledge that she'd stupidly thrown away her last chance at happiness.

****

Cameron waited as long as he could before following Jessie to her house. The drive out of town took twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to figure out what he wanted to say.

He pulled off the pavement and headed down the winding dirt road leading to the Devine place. He hadn't been to her house since the Valentine's Dance. It seemed forever. He'd been too shocked the night she'd refused his proposal to ask her for her reasons. He'd gotten over the shock and was ready to hear those reasons now.

He was looking for answers, damn it. And tonight he'd get her to talk. And he'd get her into bed, too. His body ached to hold her again. Be inside her again. Make them one.

He parked the Jag in front of the house and walked up to the porch. The lights were on. Welcoming? Or warning him to stay away?

Too damned bad. He was here and there was no turning back.

Cameron knocked on the door and waited. His hands felt clammy and his heartbeat quickened.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jessie finally opened the door, then just stood there looking out the screen at him. The dog and cat flanked her, guarding her.

Hell, he wasn't the enemy. He loved her.

"Ask me in, Jess."

She bit her lip. "Why?"

Cameron took a deep breath. Now wasn't the time to lose his temper. "We need to talk."

Jessie nodded and opened the door. Cameron entered the living room. Sherlock barked once, then nudged his hand, inviting him to pet him.

Cameron rubbed the dog's ears, watching Jessie. She walked over to the heater and warmed her backside. She was still wearing the powder blue dress she'd worn to the council meeting.

God, he loved that dress. She'd worn it to his mother's party where he'd taken her to the barn and . . .

Cameron sighed. That was over four months ago. When they'd been fighting the attraction between them. When Jess had been fighting and he'd just wanted to get her into bed.

She was still fighting. But now, Cameron wanted more than just getting Jessie into bed. He wanted it all.

He closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. She belonged in his arms. Couldn't she feel it? Couldn't she feel the rightness? "I think it's time you told me why you think you can't marry me."

"You make it sound like I don't know my own mind," she said, trying to push away. He tightened his hold and she sighed. "I don't _think_ I can't marry you, Cameron. I know I can't . . . shouldn't . . . let me go." Again, she tried to wiggle out of his arms.

"I don't want to let you go. Ever." Cameron stared deeply into Jess' eyes. Beautiful green eyes sparkling with tears. Something was definitely wrong.

He kissed the wet cheeks. He hated to see her so unhappy. "What's the matter, Jess? I thought you'd be happy that I was back in town. You told me it was your dream for me to take over the clinic. I thought you wanted me to move to Salt Fork. I thought you wanted me. Was I wrong?"

Jessie shook her head, her short blond hair bouncing with the movement. "I did want you . . . _do_ want you--" She sniffed and swiped at her nose. "Damn. I'm not going to cry. I should just tell you what's bothering me, but I don't know how."

Cameron hugged her close and kissed the top of her forehead. "Try, Jess. I asked you to marry me, for crying out loud. I love you. And you love me; I _know_ it. We can work this out, whatever it is. It can't be so very bad, can it?"

"It's pretty bad," she whispered, not looking at him, but fiddling with the gold pin on his jacket lapel. The pin she had presented to him only a couple of hours ago. " _I_ think it's bad."

"Tell me, sweetheart."

He felt her stiffen in his arms, as if she were preparing herself for an assault or something.

"I can't have children," she blurted out. "You said you want kids. TR wanted a baby more than anything and I failed him. I promised myself not to do anything that I'd live to regret any more if I can help it. And I mean to stick to that promise."

"Look at me, Jess."

She shook her head and sniffled again.

Cameron's chest tightened. Jessie was one stubborn woman. If she decided something, it took an act of Congress to make her change her mind. He suddenly felt her slipping from him. He couldn't let her go, couldn't let her get away. He'd let her go once before. He couldn't do it again.

Tucking a finger beneath her chin, he tilted her head until she was forced to meet his gaze. "I love you, Jess. It's taken me a hell of a long time to realize that. I've lived with the restlessness my whole life. But when I came back for Mom's birthday party, the restless feeling left. And you know why? Because I found you again."

"But I can't marry you," she said with a sob. "I can't live with the knowledge I won't be able to give you children. I just can't do that again." A big tear slid down her cheek and Cameron caught it with his thumb. She was killing him. But she was hurting, too. He wanted to make her better. He was a doctor. It's what he did. Made people better.

"Did you have fertility tests done when you were married to TR?" he asked, stroking her soft hair.

Her head jerked up and she sniffed. "What?"

"Fertility tests. You know, to see if you were ovulating? Did TR have any tests done? How do you know it was your fault?"

Jessie shook her head and wiped her eyes. "He didn't want any tests done. He didn't want to get caught up in all of that technical stuff. Besides, those tests are expensive and the little insurance we had wouldn't cover them. TR just wanted it to happen naturally. He said if it happened, it happened. He was just being nice. I knew how disappointed he was. I can't do that to you, Cameron."

"Look, Jess. Forget about the kids," he said. "All I want is you. We could always adopt, you know."

"It wouldn't be the same." She wiggled out of his embrace and stepped away, crossing her arms, rubbing herself as if she were cold. "Maybe you'd better leave."

"I don't want to leave. In fact, I'm not leaving," he said, shucking off his jacket and throwing it on the couch. "I want you too much. Please, Jess. Make love with me."

"I don't think we should--"

He loosened his tie. "One more time, sweetheart. Let's make love one more time."

If only he could get her in bed, he believed he could change her mind. He wanted to make sweet love to her, seduce her, remind her what they had together. Remind her how many years they'd wasted already. They didn't need to waste another minute, as far as Cameron was concerned.

He took her in his arms again and captured her lips, tasting coffee and Jessie's own sweetness. She held back a few moments, and he thought he'd lost, thought she was going to refuse him, but finally she melted against him and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Cameron pulled her onto his lap and moved his body against her, prodding her warm softness, while plundering her sweet mouth. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this," she said, her words vibrating against his lips.

"Shh, we're doing this."

Jessie sighed and he took the kiss deeper, plunging his tongue into her mouth, holding her close. She played with the hair at the nape of his neck. He loved when she did that. Suddenly, he was on fire and needed more than a kiss.

Jessie knew the instant the kiss changed from exploratory to hot and vital. Cameron cradled her butt in his big strong hands and lifted her against him, so she could feel his arousal and how much he wanted her.

"I need you, Jess," he growled in her ear, sending goose bumps flittering down her spine.

She couldn't fight the inevitable and gave herself up to the wonderful feelings of passion only this man could stoke deep within her. _One last time,_ she thought. _One last time to be with Cameron._

Jessie took his hand and brought it to her mouth. She kissed the center of his palm. "Let's continue this in bed."

"Excellent idea." He smiled the sexy smile that always made her stomach crater. "Lead the way." With his hands on her shoulders, he followed her to the bedroom.

She pulled back the quilts on the large four-poster bed. The sound of Cameron's zipper shattered the quiet of the room and froze her in place. Jessie knew she really shouldn't be making love with Cameron again. Not when she'd already refused to marry him. But she could no more resist the desire burning between them than the urge to replace a noisy muffler on an old car. Her breath caught in her lungs when Cameron stood close behind, his naked body rubbing the thin cloth of her panties, his strong hands grasping her narrow waist, pulling her to him.

Cameron reached around to cup her breasts. "Watch my hands, Jess," he whispered in her ear, as he unfastened her bra.

Slowly the lacy material eased away from her rounded curves and the fabric teased her nipples. Cameron raked his nails softly across the satiny mounds, following the path of the lace with his fingers. He weighed her breasts in his palms, gently squeezing the firm flesh and brushing his thumbs across the nipples.

Jessie saw the rigid peaks pucker in response. Cameron's fingers traced the rosy ring at the center of each breast, outlining the curvature of the swells, dipping into the valley between, moving slowly up to the base, stopping just short of the nipples. He trailed light, feathery touches--some fast, some slow--over her sensitive skin. He focused his attention on the soft fleshy mounds, deliberately neglecting the tight swollen beads that ached to be touched.

He placed a finger to her lips. "Open your mouth."

Moistening his index finger against her tongue, he swirled the wetness around and around the base of her nipples, leaning over her shoulder to blow each one in turn.

Every nerve ending in Jessie's body tensed from the seductive torture. "Please . . ." she begged, her voice a ragged sob.

Cameron's fingers hovered above the nipples.

Jessie moaned low, as if in pain. She arched toward the teasing hands. "Cameron . . ."

He flicked the tips of the turgid peaks, lightly brushing across the sensitive beads. Once, twice. He kept his fingers close, barely making contact.

Jessie's body involuntarily bucked. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her breasts, urging him to caress her fully.

Cameron massaged the heated flesh. The sight of Jessie's white hands on top of his dark ones, helping him give her pleasure, threatened his control. He wedged one knee between her legs and rubbed back and forth. He felt her dampness on the top of his thigh. His erection throbbed and hardened even more. Lifting Jessie off the floor, he eased her onto the bed, flat on her stomach.

He tore her panties down the length of her legs and tossed them aside. Kneeling above her, Cameron kissed the curve of her neck. Her skin was soft and smooth. He trailed his tongue down her spine, kneaded both cheeks of her bottom with his hands, and licked the two dimples at the small of her back.

Suddenly, he flipped her over.

Jessie's eyes widened and dilated. She reached toward him. "Let me touch you," she whispered.

Cameron straddled her. He gritted his teeth as her fingers closed around him, caressing, stroking.

He moved away. "Keep that up, and we'll be finished before we're good and started."

Her husky laugh titillated his senses. He took her mouth in a hot savage kiss. She held him close and matched the movements of his tongue with her own.

Cameron stretched out beside her. He kissed her again, dipping into the honeyed flavor only Jessie could provide. He butted his shaft against her thigh and felt the urgent need to plunge himself into her. But not yet. Not yet.

He kissed the corners of her mouth and the tip of her nose, then pulled away. Jessie groaned in disappointment and sought to bring him close again. Gently, he pushed her back against the pillows. "I want to kiss you all over, sweetheart."

He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. A deep moan erupted from Jessie's throat. Sliding his hand down her flat stomach, he twined his fingers in her soft curls. Gently, he teased the velvety folds, lightly brushing, touching, applying the same sweet torture he'd inflicted on her breasts just minutes before.

Jessie gripped his shoulders. Her nails bit deeply into his skin. Cameron bent to lave her navel with his tongue, then trailed kisses down her abdomen. He stopped just above the dark triangle of hair and looked up. Jessie's face was flushed with desire, her eyes drugged with passion.

Cameron felt himself flex in response to the yearning in those eyes. Slowly, ever so slowly, he spread open the soft folds with gentle fingers. Softly, so softly, he nuzzled her most intimate flesh.

Jessie's hips bucked upward. The exquisite rasp of Cameron's tongue released the surge of tension he had so expertly nurtured. She tangled her fingers in his hair, trying to find a handhold, as her body erupted in pleasure.

"Now, Cameron," she said. "I need you."

He pulled her beneath him and spread her legs apart. Lowering himself, he slid inside her moist heat. He waited a moment, enjoying the feel of Jessie's warm flesh holding him, caressing him.

"Please, Cameron." Jessie cupped his jaws with trembling fingers.

He turned his head to kiss each palm, then started making love to her. He moved over her, in her. Deep inside, then away. Pull and push. Slow, then fast. Jessie matched his thrusts, her inner muscles contracting, squeezing him.

Cameron groaned with satisfaction as his body convulsed in orgasm. Jessie rubbed his back and kissed his neck. His last conscious thought was that a man couldn't ask for much more than this and somehow, some way he had to make Jessie change her mind about marrying him.

****

"Nothing has changed," Jessie said, lying in the darkness of her room, with Cameron beside her in bed. "I'm still not marrying you."

Cameron slammed his fist on top of the sheets. "For crying out loud, Jess. How can you say that after what we just shared?"

Jessie shot up out of bed, grabbed a robe and hauled it on, all the while conscious of Cameron's frowning eyes upon her. She smoothed back her hair and turned to face the angry man in her bed. Naked. Still. Unconcerned with his lack of clothes. Looking incredibly sexy amidst the rumpled sheets.

"I told you I can't have babies. I can't live knowing I'm denying you something you want."

Cameron rose out of bed and stood before her, hands on hips. "You are denying me something I want. Very badly. More than I want kids."

"What are you talking about?"

"I want you, Jess. I want to marry you, share my life with you. I want to make love to you every night and wake up each morning with you by my side. How can you live with knowing how much I want you and not having you? You're denying both of us something we want desperately."

Jessie shook her head. "I just can't. You don't understand."

"No, I don't understand." Cameron dragged on his boxers, then his slacks. "Before you throw both our futures away, why don't you have a fertility test just to make sure? We've been having unprotected sex for months, and you might be carrying my child even now."

"I'm not," she said. "I can't be. I'm barren, I tell you. We've been intimate since last October, and I haven't missed a period in all that time. Sure, they've been irregular, but they've always been that way. And that's probably too much information, but you asked. Face it, Cameron. I faced it a long time ago. I'll never be able to have children. I'm sorry."

Cameron strode toward her and glared down at her. "You are one stubborn woman. You know that?"

"I think you should leave."

He pulled on his shirt and hastily buttoned it up. "Oh, I'm leaving all right. But this isn't over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot."

He swiped his tie from the floor and flung it around his neck, his blue eyes spitting fire. "Don't bother showing me the door. I know the way. Good bye, Jess."

### CHAPTER TWELVE

The days following the council meeting proved to be extremely difficult. Jessie forced herself to go to work, but she didn't get much done. She was horrified that she'd made love with Cameron knowing she wasn't going to marry him or have any kind of relationship with him. She knew she was weak where he was concerned, but she should have stood firm and sent him on his way instead of falling into bed with him.

Her heart felt heavy and she was depressed. On top of all that, her tummy started acting up at the end of the week and she hoped she wasn't coming down with the flu that was going around town. At noon on Friday, Sam sent her home.

"You need to go to bed, Jessie. You look awful."

"Gee, thanks. Just what a girl wants to hear."

Sam wiped his hands on a grease rag. "I don't think you want to hear what I really have a mind to say. You need to take better care of yourself. Go home, Jess. I'll take care of things here."

"Thanks, Sam. I think I might have caught a bug. I'll take the weekend off and see you on Monday."

"Sure thing, Boss Lady." Sam smiled and held the door for her.

Jessie got her purse and her coat. "If you need anything, just call. I'm not bedridden yet."

"You will be if you don't get some rest. Now, _git_."

"Yes, sir."

Before heading home, Jessie stopped at the café for a bowl of soup. It was lunch hour and thankfully, Sarah Sue was too busy to pry. Jessie didn't feel like fielding questions about her love life. Her nonexistent love life as of a couple of weeks ago. Not counting that moment of weakness after the council meeting.

The soup soothed her stomach, but not the turmoil in her soul. Damn, she'd never thought making the decision not to marry Cameron would hurt so much.

Hadn't she decided it was better to continue living without him, than to marry him and not be able to give him children? And hadn't she reasoned to herself that it was all for the best so she wouldn't be a constant thorn in Dallas' side causing a rift between the two brothers?

_Yeah, right, Jess. Who do you think you're fooling?_ It looked like a lose/lose proposition no matter which path she chose. If she married Cameron, she'd feel horrible because she couldn't bear his children. On the other hand, if she didn't marry him, she would still live in misery spurning the man she'd always loved.

Something he'd thrown in her face, by the way. More than just spurning him, but keeping him from something he wanted much more than children. He wanted _her_.

Either way, either choice she made, she would end up disappointing him.

Bumping along the dirt road in her old pickup truck, these thoughts circled inside Jessie's head. When she rounded the stand of mesquite trees guarding the house, she stomped on the brakes and screeched to a halt. _What in the world_?

The front porch looked like Gussie Ferguson's Florist Shop. Vases of all shapes and sizes covered every inch of her porch each overflowing with dark red roses.

Katnip and Sherlock emerged from the midst of the bower and came forward to greet Jessie.

She climbed out of the truck and slammed the door behind her. As if in a dream, she walked up the stone path, stopped at the porch step and just stared at the bounty of roses nestled together making the old porch a beautiful sight to behold.

Tears formed in her eyes and she swallowed a lump in her throat. She stepped up onto the porch and sat down amongst the flowers. She counted seventeen arrangements of the most gorgeous long-stemmed roses she'd ever seen. Or maybe they were gorgeous because she'd never received many flowers in her life. Or maybe it was because they were from the man she loved.

She knew they were from Cameron. Who else? Searching every bouquet and spray of roses, Jessie finally found a card and plucked it from the vase closest to where she sat. With trembling fingers she opened the small envelope and read the bold handwriting.

To Jess, the woman who holds my heart. Please accept these small tokens of my affection, one for every year we've wasted not being together. My love stands true. My heart belongs to you. Know you are in my thoughts every second of every day. I love you, Cameron.

Jessie held the card to her heart and closed her eyes. The sweet subtle fragrance of the roses wafted around her, lulling her, whispering to her, battling the defenses she'd worked so hard to erect around her heart.

She stood, weak-kneed and a little wobbly, and slowly entered the house. She read the love note again, knowing a chink of her self-imposed armor had been chiseled loose.

Be strong, Jess. Be strong.

****

Monday morning, Jessie was late for work. She'd spent the weekend tossing and turning, getting little rest and less sleep. When she did manage to sleep, she dreamed of the roses and Cameron McCade. His smile, his eyes, his lovemaking. How he'd given up his life in Houston and returned to Salt Fork. How he'd said he loved her and wanted to spend his life with her.

When she wasn't sleeping, Jessie lay in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about what she'd let slip through her fingers. What could have been such a happy life with Cameron.

If only . . .

She'd moved the roses inside the house. Every time she walked to the kitchen to make soup or tea, seventeen vases of lovely roses reminded her of what she'd given up.

Pulling up behind the garage, Jessie parked her truck and immediately made her way to the office. Sam hollered a greeting from under the sedan he was working on. Since she wasn't in the mood to be around people, she hoped Sam would work in the garage most of the day. She had a ton of paper work to plow through.

When Jessie jerked opened the door to the office, her hand froze on the metal handle. A rainbow of color bombarded her--on top of the desk, the file cabinet and even on the ancient swivel chair. Baskets and baskets full of carnations. Seventeen. She knew without counting.

The bell on the door jingled and Sam came in. "Seems like you've got an admirer. McCade sure seems determined. I bet he's going to ask you to marry him. Congratulations, Jessie."

Jessie's stomach rolled over and she suddenly felt sick. Sicker than she'd felt all weekend. And dizzy. So dizzy, she sank down into the straight-backed chair in front of the desk before she could faint right then and there.

Sam rushed over and stood in front of her, a frown creasing his black brows. "Are you sure you should have come in to work? Maybe you're not over that stomach virus. You should have stayed home another day. Maybe you should go to the clinic and see the doctor--"

"No!" Jessie shook her head. Good lord, she didn't want to see Cameron. It would hurt too much. "I'm fine. I'm still recovering, but I'm well enough to work. I'll take it easy and stay in here, catch up on the accounts receivable and let you take care of the repairs." She took a deep breath and conjured up a smile. "Could you help move the flowers to the floor, so I can get to the computer?"

"Sure thing. You just sit there and rest. Want some water or something?"

"Water would be nice."

Jessie sipped her bottle of cold water while Sam cleared the desk and chair.

"There's a card in this basket," he said and handed it to her. "Yeah, McCade is one determined man. I'll get back to the transmission I'm working on. If you need anything, just holler."

Jessie gingerly rose from the chair and rounded the desk, sinking into the swivel chair. For a minute, she sat there staring at the card in her hand, afraid to open it.

With a huge breath, she berated herself for being a coward and quickly slit open the envelope.

These flowers can't begin to express the love I feel for you. I need you like I need air to breathe and sunshine to live. Seventeen years ago, I made a wrong turn. Help me find the way back, Jess. I love you, Cameron.

Jessie stared at the card. Seventeen years ago, Cameron had asked her to the prom and her life had miraculously changed. She remembered how surprised and shocked she'd been when he'd shown up at the garage one week before the big event. She couldn't believe he'd asked her to be his date.

Jessie looked at the baskets of carnations surrounding her on the floor of the office. Yes, she'd lost her heart to Cameron McCade seventeen years ago. And when he'd kissed her up on Lover's Point that night, her world had tilted and it had never been the same since.

He'd been like Prince Charming, awakening her to love and desire. Then he'd left her high and dry.

Cameron had called her stubborn, but if she hadn't had that stubborn streak, Jessie would never have survived when he went off to college and left her. She'd never have survived the ordeal of taking care of her sick father. Or losing her mother at such a tender age. Or watching TR die, knowing she hadn't loved him as she should have.

Jessie knew she was capable of living without Cameron, but she wanted to cry when she thought of the bleak empty future stretching before her.

It wouldn't be easy. Lord, it had never been easy. And it was different now. Cameron wasn't far away anymore.

No, the man she loved was back in Salt Fork. And he loved her and wanted to marry her. She would see him around town, run into him, constantly be aware of his presence over at the clinic or in his house in the middle of town.

Jessie looked at the flowers surrounding her. He obviously wasn't going to make it easy for her either. He seemed to be laying siege to her heart, deliberately battling down her defenses.

She sighed. Hadn't she always wished she could be part of his plans? That wish had finally come true.

Jessie felt her resolve slipping. She brushed her fingers over the petals of a yellow carnation. The flowers lit up the office like Cameron lit up her life. He'd told her he wanted her more than he wanted kids. Could she believe him?

How would she survive, living in the same town as Cameron, knowing she'd disappointed him by not marrying him? How could she marry him, unable to give him a child?

She'd been over the argument again and again. No wonder she was dizzy.

Jessie booted up the computer. Thank God, she now had the resources and money to pay most of the bills. She couldn't have lived with herself if she'd screwed up and lost the garage on top of everything else.

And that was another thing.

Dallas McCade was angry about her leasing the oil rights on his ranch. As far as she knew, he still wasn't talking to Cameron. He certainly wasn't talking to her. Which wasn't such a bad thing, considering he only hounded her about selling the mineral rights when he did speak to her.

Always a silver lining somewhere in there, right?

That's stretching it a bit, Jess.

She pulled up the accounts receivable and set to work. She'd lose herself in the dreary columns of numbers for now and let the future take care of itself.

****

At five o'clock, Cameron hung his lab coat on the hook behind his office door, grabbed his Stetson and the gaily-wrapped gift from his desk and headed out the clinic door. Sheila would lock up as she always did.

They'd settled into a nice routine--he opened the clinic in the morning; she closed at night. It worked out great for both of them. Cameron whistled a happy tune as he drove down the road toward the café.

He wondered how Jessie had reacted to all the flowers he'd sent. And the notes he'd written, agonizing over every word. He'd realized Jessie had never really dated, had never been courted or wooed, to use the old-fashioned terms.

She'd always been more of a tomboy, working in the garage with her father. She'd never worn frilly, girlie outfits when she'd been a kid. She still preferred jeans, but once in a while when she wore something like that powder-blue dress that drove him crazy, there was no doubt that she was one sexy woman.

He turned into the café parking lot, eased the car into a slot and cut the engine. Jessie wasn't beautiful in the classical sense. She was more cute than pretty. But she was beautiful to Cameron. It didn't matter what she had on. And naturally, he liked her best with nothing on at all.

He gripped the steering wheel. If she didn't respond to his overtures of wooing, he didn't know what he would do. He couldn't imagine continuing to live in Salt Fork without Jessie by his side.

As usual, the café was crowded at this time of day. Cameron found a seat at the counter, laid the package in front of him and waited for Sarah Sue to come by with his water and menu.

"Well, hey there, sugar!" Sarah Sue said, hurrying over. "Haven't seen you in quite a while. Been busy getting settled at the clinic? How's the new house coming along? I've always admired the old Peterson house. You are one lucky man that it came on the market when it did and Jessie was able to put down your money for you. By the way, when are you and Jessie going to make up? She's moping around like I don't know what. And when are you going to stop dragging your feet and ask that girl to marry you?"

Cameron smoothed the ribbon on the package. He hated to admit anything to anybody, but maybe Sarah Sue could help him out. She and Jessie were close friends. But from the sound of it, Jessie hadn't told Sarah Sue the recent developments in their relationship. A relationship he felt slipping from him with every passing minute.

"I guess you haven't talked to Jessie lately," he said. "She hasn't told you--"

"Hey, Sarah Sue! Can I get some service over here?" someone called from the corner.

"Hold your horses, Shorty. I'm coming." Sarah Sue bent to retrieve menus from behind the counter. "Don't you move, Cameron McCade. I want to know what's going on. Jessie's been feeling mighty poorly lately and she's been closed as an oyster about everything. Figure out what you want to eat, while I take care of a few customers."

She shoved a menu in Cameron's hands and whisked away. Five minutes ago, he'd been hungry as a bear. Now, he couldn't think about eating.

Before he even opened the menu, Sarah Sue was back, standing beside him instead of behind the counter. She whipped the menu from his grasp. "Let's go, darlin'."

"Where to?"

"My office." She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his seat. He barely had time to pick up the wrapped package from the counter. "We need to discuss this in private," she said, dragging him along. "I may like to gossip, but not about Jessie's private life."

Cameron followed her through the swinging doors leading to the kitchen, past the stoves and super-sized refrigerator, into a tiny room in the corner of the building.

She closed the door and pointed to a chair. "Sit."

Cameron had to smile. Sarah Sue wasn't actually old enough to be his mother, but she sure sounded like a mom. "Yes'm," he said, sliding into the straight-backed chair facing the old metal desk.

Sarah Sue hitched a hip on the desk, crossed her arms over her meager bosom and glared at him. "Okay, I'm all ears. Tell me everything. I should have known Jessie would screw things up. If ever I saw such a stubborn person . . . well, I haven't, and that's the truth. So spill it, sugar."

Cameron set the package on the desktop and Sarah Sue eyed it with a gleam in her eyes. He took off his Stetson and settled more comfortably in the hard chair, not knowing how much to tell. He wasn't used to revealing things about himself to anyone.

"Honey, I'm on your side and Jessie's, of course. I take it from what you almost told me out there that you've already asked her to marry you?"

"Yes, on Valentine's Day."

"And she refused you?"

He nodded.

Sarah Sue let out a huge exasperated sigh. "That girl. What in the world is going on in her stubborn little head? She's been in love with you since prom night. Did you know that?"

Cameron shook his head. "I knew she had a crush on me, but--"

"It was more than a crush," said Sarah Sue. "She was devastated when you left for college."

"We barely knew one another. How can that be?"

"Her crush and admiration turned into love, sugar. You were a mighty handsome boy. Nice, polite and charming, as well. A deadly combination for a young girl. Especially one with little experience, if you know what I mean?"

Cameron felt like squirming in the chair. This was turning out to be an uncomfortable conversation.

"What reason did she give you for turning down your marriage proposal?" Sarah Sue asked.

"Some malarkey about not being able to have children," he said. "I told her we could adopt. I even offered to pay for fertility testing. How does she know the fault was hers when she couldn't get pregnant with TR?"

"She couldn't. She just assumed." Sarah Sue looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. "I thought I'd talked her out of those thoughts. Jessie has always been a glum little thing. Probably comes from losing her mama at such an early age. I did what I could for her, but no one can replace a girl's mother."

"You've been a good friend to her," Cameron said. "She's lucky to have you."

"Well, thank you, sugar. That's mighty nice of you. Now, what are you going to do about the situation?"

Cameron told her about the flowers and the notes he'd written. "I'm trying to think of romantic things to do to show Jessie I'm not taking no for an answer."

Sarah Sue smiled. "All those flowers delivered and I haven't heard a thing about it. Gussie Ferguson hasn't breathed a word to a soul."

"I asked her not to," Cameron said. "Garza promised not to spread it about either."

"So, what's your next move?" Sarah Sue asked, eying the wrapped package sitting on her desk.

Cameron picked it up and handed it to her. "I know Jessie comes in here several nights a week. I want you to give that to her, next time she stops by the café."

"What is it?"

Cameron stood and picked up his Stetson. "You'll have to wait until Jessie opens it." He kissed her cheek and left her gaping after him, feeling better than he had in days.

****

Jessie felt sicker than she had last week. In fact, she was more nauseous than ever. She'd even thrown up yesterday morning. Sam had made her stay in the office for the past couple of days, saying he didn't like the way she looked. Badgering her to go see the doctor. Sam had asked her what good was there in having a clinic in town, if she didn't make full use of it.

Well, Sam hadn't slept with the resident physician or refused an offer of marriage from him. That made it just a tad embarrassing to make an appointment.

After the garage closed for the night, Jessie decided to visit Sarah Sue. Maybe have a bowl of soup and a few crackers; something to settle her riotous stomach. If she wasn't better soon, Jessie would be forced to see a doctor and she didn't feel like driving the eighty miles to Abilene. She'd have to swallow her embarrassment and make an appointment at the clinic.

Hopefully, she could see Cameron as a patient and they could keep things professional. Hopefully, when she saw him, she wouldn't burst into tears. Hopefully, she'd get well and wouldn't have to go see him.

The café was empty as usual when Jessie stopped by after work. Nine-thirty at night and most everyone had gone home, even the other waitress and the chef. Only Sarah Sue stayed late at the café, catching up on paper work, trying out new recipes. That was the only time she could cook in the kitchen without causing an uproar with her chef. He didn't like anyone trespassing on his domain, not even Sarah Sue.

Many a night, Jessie sat in the big kitchen and watched Sarah Sue make pies and pastries. They'd laugh and talk and gossip. Those times were some of Jessie's favorites.

She entered the café and spotted her friend through the kitchen window. "Hey there, darlin'," Sarah Sue said with a wave and a smile. "You're just in time. I have a peach cobbler in the oven. We'll have warm cobbler and ice cream in a few minutes. Come on back here."

Jessie swallowed and shook her head. "I'll take a rain check on that. All I want is some soup, if you have any."

Sarah Sue wiped her flour-dusted hands on her apron and pulled Jessie to the table sitting near the fridge. "You still feeling puny? You sit right here and I'll get you a bowl of potato soup. It'll soothe your stomach, I guarantee."

"Thanks. I'd like that."

Sarah Sue bustled around the large kitchen, opening the door of the stainless steel refrigerator, ladling a bowlful of soup and zapping it in the microwave. In no time flat, she set the steaming bowl in front of Jessie, with a sleeve of crackers and a tall glass of tea.

"Eat up. Then I have a surprise for you."

Jessie dipped her spoon in the soup and sipped it, making sure it wasn't too hot. The creamy liquid slid down her throat and settled in her agitated stomach, instantly making her feel better. "This is good. Just what I need."

Sarah Sue sat down across from her. "I could tell you what you need, but since you're so sick, I'll wait until you're better."

"It's okay. What do you think I need?"

"A swift kick in the rear, that's what."

Jessie's head jerked up and she stared at her friend. "Why would you say something like that?"

Sarah Sue sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "Cameron McCade came in here today. He told me he asked you to marry him and you refused. I think you're sick in the head, darlin'."

Jessie laid her spoon aside. "I believe you're right."

"What were you thinking? You love that man to distraction, and he loves you. I can't believe you're giving up a lifetime of happiness and love just because you think you can't give that man babies."

Rubbing her temples, Jessie sighed. "I'm so confused I think that's what's making me feel so sick. I don't want to disappoint Cameron by not giving him children, but like he said, I'm still disappointing him by not marrying him, because he wants me, needs me. And I need him, too." God, how she needed him.

"Of course you need him," Sarah Sue said. "Didn't you tell me you were finished doing things you'd regret or feel guilty about?"

"Yes, but--"

Sarah Sue lifted a hand as if to ward off any argument. "Hear me out, Jessie. Do you regret making love with Cameron? You were confused about that, too. Remember? Are you sorry you slept with the man?"

"No, I'm not, but--"

"Do you love him?"

"Yes, but--"

"No buts. You love him. He loves you. Are you sorry you refused him? Do you regret that you won't be marrying him and living a full rich life with him? Adopting children and raising them, if need be? Don't you regret that?"

"Yes! Okay, okay. Maybe I made a mistake."

Sarah Sue reached across the table and patted Jessie's hand. "There's no maybe about it. It's not too late, darlin'. He wants you more than ever."

"And I want him. But I'm scared." Scared spitless, in fact.

Sarah Sue patted her hand again. "Scared he'll leave? Scared you'll lose him? Like you lost your mama and daddy and TR?"

"Yes," Jessie whispered, realization suddenly dawning. "I'm scared to make the commitment. Scared to lay my heart open again."

Squeezing her hand, Sarah Sue gave it a little shake. "You have to take risks, darlin'. Cameron's not going to leave you again. Hell, he uprooted his life to be near you. He's made the commitment. Why can't you? Wait right here. He left something in my office that he wanted me to give you."

Jessie couldn't imagine what Cameron had done now. After the two deliveries of flowers, she didn't know what to expect.

Sarah Sue came back into the kitchen carrying a small thin square package. "Here you go. Open it. I'm dying to know what's in it."

Jessie held the package for a moment. Just like she'd been hesitant to open the envelopes that arrived with the flowers, she was hesitant to open the package.

"Well, go ahead. Open it, why don't you?" Sarah Sue said.

Jessie tore the paper and unwrapped a gold metal frame containing an old photograph. One taken seventeen years ago with a younger version of Jessie dressed in an ivory-colored prom dress looking dreamily up at her handsome escort wearing a black tuxedo and a baby-blue shirt. The photographer had caught the adoration and happiness Jessie remembered feeling that night.

She traced the image of the younger Cameron with a trembling finger. She'd forgotten about the picture taken that night. Somehow, she'd never seen it before. After Cameron had left her and moved away, she'd been too upset to think of photographs or much of anything else.

"Can I see?" Sarah Sue asked.

Jessie blinked away tears and handed the picture to her friend.

"Well, I'll be. That man has a romantic streak a mile wide. He told me about the flowers. _And now this_. You two made a mighty fine pair back then. Looks like you belong together, if you ask me. Is there a note in the wrappings?"

Jessie dashed a hand across her eyes, then searched through the brightly colored paper. "No, there's nothing."

Sarah Sue flipped the frame over. "Here's something."

Jessie took the frame and removed the tiny envelope taped to the back. There was something hard inside.

What in the world?

With shaking hands, Jessie opened the envelope and removed a small card and a key. Her heart pounded in her chest and she had trouble breathing. She sat there, turning the key over and over and over.

"Read the note, for crying out loud," Sarah Sue said.

The card was upside down. Jessie turned it so she could read the words, written in the now familiar bold handwriting.

You already hold the key to my heart and soul. You wouldn't accept my ring, but I hope you accept this gift. Here's the key to something I hold dear, but not nearly as dear as I hold you. Hope you enjoy the car. Love always, Cameron.

P.S. It's parked behind the café.

Jessie laughed and cried and held the key against her own rapidly thumping heart.

"What is it?" Sarah Sue demanded. "What is that key to?"

"His Jaguar. He gave me his Jag."

"Good God, he's as crazy as you are. Crazy about you, too. You need to quit this foolishness, darlin', and put that man out of his misery and tell him that you'll marry him."

"I can't accept the car. Can I?" _Could she?_

Sarah Sue nodded. "You can if you marry him. _Are_ you going to marry him?"

Jessie looked at the note again, then at the key, then at the old photograph. Suddenly, she felt better than she had in months. "Yes, I am. I'm going to marry Cameron McCade!"

### CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Cameron paced around the living room of his new home, wondering how Jessie would react to this latest surprise. He wondered if she'd even gone to Sarah Sue's tonight. She didn't stop at the café every night of the week, after all.

And he wondered what her reaction would be when she found the Jag parked behind the café. Would she be angry? Or would she finally believe he wanted her more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life? By giving her the Jag, he hoped she'd get it through her stubborn brain that he was serious about wanting to marry her and spend his life with her by his side.

The sound of a powerful engine pulling into his driveway made him smile. He hoped like hell she had changed her mind, because he was fast running out of ideas to convince her that he loved her and needed her.

He went to the door, opened it and waited for Jessie to climb out of the car. He'd told her in the note that she held the key to his heart and soul, but she also held the key to his future happiness. Which would it be? A lifetime of love? Or the prospect of a bleak lonely existence?

Jessie ran up the walk and flung herself at Cameron, wrapping her arms around his neck, laughing and crying and kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

The heaviness in his heart lifted and he hugged her tightly, returning her kisses, loving the feel of her in his arms, inhaling her sweetness.

"Oh my God, Cameron! I can't believe you would give me your Jag. And all those flowers. And the notes." She sniffed and touched her fingers to his cheeks. "And the prom picture. I'd never seen it before, you know. Did Ruth have it stashed away somewhere? I'm surprised she didn't give me a copy years ago."

He clasped her fingers with his. "I never showed it to Mom," he said, kissing each finger in turn.

Her breath hitched at the intimate contact. "And you've kept it all these years?"

He pulled her closer and kissed her gently. "I took it with me when I left for college. I tucked it away in a book for safe keeping with all the moving I was doing. I hadn't seen it since grad school. I found it when I was unpacking some of my things a couple of weeks ago--Hey, where are you going?"

Jessie wiggled out of Cameron's arms and held out the keys to the Jaguar. He just stared at them, not making a move to take them. Was she refusing him again?

"You don't need to give me your car," she said. "I know how much it means to you."

"Not as much as you mean to me, Jess. I--"

She held up her hands to keep him at bay. "Please let me finish. The car is a lovely gesture, but the prom picture is the best gift of all, better than the flowers. If the offer's still good, I'd like to take you up on it."

"Of course, the offer's still good." He grabbed her waist and pulled her into his embrace again. "I love you so much, Jess." He touched her cheek and kissed her again, loving how well they fit together. Relieved that she'd finally agreed to be his wife.

Jessie's lungs constricted; something invisible squeezed her mid-section. She wanted Cameron with all her heart, but there were issues to discuss. She had to make perfectly certain. She tried to pull away, but his arms tightened around her, and he deepened the kiss.

After giving in for a heart-pounding moment, Jessie pushed at his chest and broke contact. "Please let me go, Cameron."

"I'm never letting you go again," he said, holding her close. "When I left Salt Fork, I had only one regret. Do you know what it was?"

She searched his face. "No, what?"

"Leaving you behind." He kissed her to ease the sting of the memory. "Even then, I knew there was something special and powerful between us. It scared the hell out of me. I couldn't stay. I had to get away. I had made my plans."

Jessie nodded. "I remember. I had a different future mapped out for myself, too. When Dad got sick, everything changed."

"I know, sweetheart. It must have been damned difficult. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I ever left you." Cameron smoothed the wisps of hair from her face. "I'm here now and we're together. We'll make up for lost time, I promise."

Jessie bit her lip. "What about your brother?"

Cameron hugged her. "What about him?"

"I leased the mineral rights on the ranch, remember? Dallas hates me and may never forgive me. And he isn't speaking to you. If we marry, he may never speak to you again."

"Dallas will get over it. We're too close and there's too much between us for him to stay angry forever. I want to marry you. Say you want to marry me, too."

Jessie's heart ricocheted in her chest as she hugged Cameron and kissed him again. Now, she was afraid because everything she'd ever wanted had suddenly come true. She was still afraid it might disappear just as quickly.

Cameron lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. Jessie laughed again and looped her arms around his neck. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

"I need more than kisses. _We_ need more than kisses. We need a bed."

Reaching his bedroom, he laid her on the mattress and followed her down. He started to kiss her, then pulled back and frowned.

"What's wrong?" Jessie asked, luxuriating in the feel of Cameron's weight bearing down on her.

"You haven't said yes," he said, his blue eyes gazing into hers.

Her tummy fluttered in response. "What do you mean?"

"I've asked you to marry me, and you haven't given me your answer." He brushed his hand across Jessie's soft hair. "I'm asking you again, Jess. Will you marry me?"

As long as she lived, she'd never get over thrill of being with this man. Smiling, Jessie kissed him. "Yes, Cameron. _Definitely yes!_ "

****

A few hours later, Jessie lay snuggled against Cameron, her head on his shoulder, her leg thrown across his lower body. Happiness bubbled inside her.

A low chuckle deep in his chest vibrated against her ear. Raising herself on one elbow, she looked at him. "What's so funny? Why are you laughing?"

Cameron grinned. "I was just thinking how happy my mother is going to be."

Jessie lay back down. "You mean because you're finally putting your bachelor days behind you and getting married?"

"There's that, of course," he said with a nod. "But I was thinking more about the mineral rights."

Jessie raised up again. "What about the mineral rights?"

He chuckled. "When I came home that first time in October, Mom and Dallas told me about everything, how Copper River Oil was snooping around, and how _you_ owned some of the mineral rights on the Diamondback Ranch--"

"Get to the point, Cameron."

"You know what my mother is," he said with amusement.

"Yes, she's a delightful fluff-head," Jessie answered fondly.

"Exactly. And you of all people know how much Dallas wants the mineral rights back in the family?"

"How could I ever forget?" She wrinkled her nose at the thought of all the confrontations with Dallas McCade in the past and maybe even a few in the not-so-distant future.

Cameron gave her a little squeeze. "Well get this: Mom had the bright idea that I should marry you, and then the whole mess would be solved. She'd have a daughter-in-law, the prospect of more grandkids, _and_ as an added bonus, the mineral rights would be back in the family."

Cameron laughed again. "She'll be so happy and pleased with herself. It won't take long for her to believe she arranged this whole thing."

Jessie could just imagine Ruth feeling like that. Feeling glad about them marrying. But she wouldn't be glad about not getting any more grandchildren. Then another thought flashed unbidden in her mind.

Jessie pushed away and sat up. A sinking sensation burned in the pit of her stomach as that unwelcome thought expanded.

"Cameron?"

"What is it, sweetheart?" He slid his hands down her body, loving the feel of her beneath his fingers.

"If I marry you--" she began.

"If?" His hands stopped their exploration.

"Won't I be breaking my promise to TR? The mineral rights _will_ be back in your family. I can't break my promise. I gave him my word." She sat back on her knees, her lips trembling.

Cameron wiped a tear from her cheek. "You are going to have to stop thinking of all these obstacles that could keep us from being together. Don't you _want_ to marry me?"

"Of course I do. But a promise is a promise."

"Look, you promised TR you wouldn't _sell_ the mineral rights to Dallas. You're not selling. We'll put the damn things in a trust for our kids. That will satisfy your promise _and_ appease my brother."

"You're forgetting I can't get pregnant."

Cameron sighed. "If you're really unable to have children, then we'll adopt, like I told you before. There are many, many children in foster homes who need someone to love and take care of them. We could love and take care of a few, couldn't we, Jess? They'd be ours, no matter how they came into this world. I know you'll make a wonderful mother."

Cameron leaned over and opened the drawer in the bedside table. He pulled out the black velvet box and snapped it open, retrieving the diamond ring she'd refused on Valentine's Day. He took her left hand in his and looked deeply into her eyes. Jessie felt as if he were searching her very soul.

Silently, he slid the ring on the third finger of her left hand. The diamond glittered with a fire of its own, reminding Jessie of the fire burning in Cameron's eyes whenever he looked her way. Reminding her of the fire that burned between them, the fire that had always burned between them.

"With this ring," he said, his voice low and intense, "I want to make you my wife. I want you to be the mother of our children, no matter where they come from." He kissed the ring, then turned her hand over and kissed her palm. He twined his fingers with hers. "What do you say, Jess? Are you with me on this?"

Jessie nodded and felt tears gather in her eyes. For the first time, she really believed what Cameron had been trying to tell her all along. It didn't matter to him if she couldn't give him a child. He loved her and wanted to spend their lives together.

He squeezed her hand. "What do you say, sweetheart?"

Jessie smiled and launched herself against him. All was right with her world again. "I love you, Cameron McCade. I've loved you forever and ever."

Cameron held her in his arms, close to his heart. "It's about time you told me, Jess. It's about damned time you told me."

****

For the next couple of days, Jessie floated on a cloud of happiness. She'd practically moved in with Cameron already. They'd told Ruth they were getting married and as predicted, Cameron's mother was ecstatic over the news.

Jessie had come into work early today and was under Joe Montoya's truck changing the oil, when she heard footsteps coming close. For one heart-pounding minute, she thought it might be Cameron, then immediately thought better. He'd be busy at the clinic this morning.

"Need some help with that?" Sam asked, squatting near her.

Jessie scooted from underneath the pickup. "Yeah, I can't make the plug budge. You give it a try, will you?"

She stood up and suddenly fell backward. Sam caught her before she hit the cement floor.

Jessie leaned against the truck, her head spinning crazily.

Sam frowned at her. "Okay, that's it. I'm taking you to the clinic. Something's definitely wrong if you're fainting and falling down."

"Nothing's wrong. Give me a minute, will you? I'll be fine. I just stood up too quickly, that's all."

"Nope, I'm taking you to see McCade. And I'm taking you right now. You shouldn't have a problem going to the clinic now that you're engaged to him. No excuses, Jessie. You stay here. I'll get your coat and purse and we'll take my car."

"But what about the garage? We can't just up and leave."

"Hell yes, we can. I'll drop you off at the clinic, then come back here. The place isn't exactly hopping with customers right now."

Jessie couldn't argue with that and decided to let Sam play knight-errant. He'd gotten used to "taking care of her" the past couple of years. He was a good friend. He'd teased her about the flowers, but hadn't said much about the engagement. She wondered what he thought about her marrying Cameron.

At the clinic, Sam wouldn't let Jessie just hop out of the car. "You're not walking in by yourself. I don't want McCade accusing me of letting you hurt yourself."

"What are you going to do? Carry me in?"

"If you don't shut up, I might just do that."

Jessie made a face at him. "Right."

He parked the car and Jessie started to open the door.

"Don't even think about it," Sam said.

"Good grief. What in the world has gotten into you?"

He didn't answer, only got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side and jerked the door open.

"Grab your purse," he said, scooping her out of the car.

"Hey, put me down!"

"Not until we get inside and see McCade."

Sam marched toward the entrance, pushed open the glass door and entered the clinic. Thankfully, the waiting room was empty. Sam strode to the admissions window and tapped on the glass.

The nurse opened the window and gasped. "What's going on? What's wrong with Jessie?"

Jessie shook her head. "Nothing's wrong, Sheila. I got dizzy--"

"Jess? What the hell?" Cameron came up behind Sheila and frowned. "Are you hurt? Is she hurt?" he asked Sam.

"No, I merely felt dizzy--"

"Shut up, Jessie," Sam said. "She almost fainted at the shop. She hasn't felt well in weeks. I think you need to find out what's wrong with her."

"Damned right." Cameron rushed around the counter to open the door leading to the examination rooms.

Sam carried Jessie into the passageway and faced Cameron, whose eyes were trained on her. She wiggled and squirmed. This was all ridiculous and embarrassing. "Let me down, now!"

Sam handed her over to Cameron. "Here, take her, she's your woman. She obviously needs a keeper, since she refuses to take care of herself. I'm going back to the garage."

"Thanks, Garza," Cameron said.

Sam smiled a male kind of smile that made Jessie want to smack them both.

"No problem," he said. "I know I'm leaving her in good hands. Congratulations. You're one lucky son of a bitch. And if you mistreat her in any way, you'll have to answer to me."

"I know. Thanks, again."

"Sam!" Jessie watched him leave the clinic. He didn't look back, just waved his hand.

She felt silly being in Cameron's arms with Sheila staring at them, a tiny smile playing on the nurse's lips.

"Please put me down, Cameron."

"I don't think so. Sheila, I'll be examining Jessie in room three. Hold any calls."

"Sure thing, Dr. McCade."

Jessie sighed and gave up the struggle. When they reached the examination room, Cameron deposited her on the examination table. He kissed her hard, then stepped back, the frown in place again.

"I knew you were feeling bad for the past couple of weeks. Tell me your symptoms-- _in detail_. Don't leave anything out. Garza looked pretty shook up out there."

"It's nothing," Jessie said, straightening her coveralls after being manhandled. "I stood up too quickly and was dizzy."

When she didn't elaborate, Cameron lifted an eyebrow.

"I'm waiting, Jess. You worked hard for this clinic to be built. You should take advantage of my professional services. God knows you have access to all of my personal services." He winked. "Come on, sweetheart. Tell the doctor where it hurts."

Jessie rolled her eyes and shook her head, feeling the bubble of happiness she'd been floating on expand. "Well, I _have_ had an upset stomach off and on. I've lost count of the days. I'm sure it's just the bug that's been going around."

Cameron stepped forward and listened to Jessie's chest with his stethoscope, then moved it to her back and listened there. "Take a deep breath. Any vomiting?"

Jessie inhaled deeply. "Only once. I've been tired a lot lately, too."

"Uh-huh." Cameron felt the glands in her throat. Then looked in her ears. His hands were impersonal and professional, yet she could feel the healing power in his touch.

"Open your mouth," he said.

Jessie sighed and complied.

Cameron examined her tonsils, then stepped away. "When was your last period, Jess?"

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"Your last period?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" she asked with a frown.

Cameron walked over to the cabinet and took out a plastic- wrapped specimen cup and handed it to her.

"What's this for? I'm not pregnant. Why don't you believe me? I've told you--"

"Just pee in the cup, sweetheart. It's quick, easy and painless."

"But I can't be--"

"You have all the symptoms, Jess. Pee in the cup and we'll have our answer in a couple of minutes."

She hopped down from the table and Cameron took her elbow.

"Here, I'll help you to the bathroom."

Jessie jerked away. "I can do this myself, thank you very much."

He nodded and held open the door, smiling as she passed him on her way out.

She couldn't believe he was making her do this. It was a waste of time. As she collected the specimen, Jessie tried to think when she'd had her last period. What with all the commotion in her life and being sick as a dog, she hadn't noticed. She wasn't regular by any means, but as she counted the days, she realized she was later than usual.

Cameron was waiting outside the restroom when she emerged and took the cup. "Sit there while I run the test." He pointed to a chair near the scales. "Sheila's going to weigh you and take your blood pressure."

Jessie sighed. "You know this is a waste of time. I have a bug, that's all."

"Humor me, Jess."

She watched him walk to the lab, handsome and strong in the green scrubs he liked to wear for work. A fleeting sadness settled over her. She knew Cameron truly didn't care if she was barren, but damn, she wished she could have Cameron's baby. A little McCade to hold in her arms and sing lullabies to.

Jessie knew better than to wish for the moon, but she couldn't help herself. Several of her most secret wishes had recently come true. The clinic was up and running. Cameron had come back to practice medicine in Salt Fork. And he loved her and wanted to marry her.

Three out of three wasn't bad. But oh, how she wished she could give Cameron a child.

Sheila weighed her, then proceeded to take her blood pressure. "This is so exciting," she said. "A baby! I know you must be thrilled. And Dr. McCade will be happy, too. He's so good with the sick children he treats."

"Sheila, don't get your hopes up. I can't be pregnant. In all the years I was married to TR, I didn't get pregnant. I'm not--"

Jessie stopped in mid-sentence. Cameron hurried out of the lab, waving a small white strip like a flag, his face beaming. "Guess what, sweetheart?"

Jessie stood abruptly and shook her head. "But that's impossible. It must be a false reading." She couldn't let herself hope . . . couldn't let herself believe.

Cameron showed her the evidence. "You're pregnant, Jess. I'll do an ultrasound and a blood test to verify it, of course. But this test is extremely accurate."

Sheila clapped her hands. "All right! Congratulations." She hugged Jessie and Cameron, sniffling and laughing and wiping her eyes. "Oh my, I'm so happy for both of you. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone."

Jessie couldn't stop staring at the test strip. She tentatively placed her hand on her tummy.

"A baby?" she asked in wonder.

Cameron covered her hand and kissed her forehead. "Yes, Jess. We're going to have a baby."

A million thoughts ran through her head, each one more fantastic than the last. Something she hadn't thought possible . . . _suddenly was_.

Her world had turned upside down. Again.

She felt tears welling up, slipping down her cheeks. She hastily brushed at them. "Damn, I'm as bad as Sheila."

Cameron set the strip on the table and pulled her into his arms. He wiped away her tears and sprinkled tender kisses on her cheeks, nose and chin and finally her mouth. When they came up for air, he reared back and smiled that sexy smile she loved so well.

"We're having a baby," he said softly.

Jessie nodded and laughed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You've made all my impossible dreams and wishes come true."

"Not all of them, surely?" he said, kissing her forehead.

"Oh yes, all of them." She planted kisses on his neck, inhaling his scent, loving him more than ever. "Or most of them anyway."

"I'm glad, sweetheart. It makes me happy to make you happy. I'll always try to make your wishes come true."

Jessie looked up at him. "Well, there is still one wish you've never gotten around to."

"Which one is that?" he asked.

"It involves a handsome doctor, a Stetson and a soft bed."

Cameron chuckled. "I think I can grant that wish. Is tonight soon enough?"

She grabbed his stethoscope and pulled him back for another kiss. "Tonight is perfect. I can hardly wait."

THE END

Check out the rest of THE DIAMONDBACK RANCH SERIES, continuing with Dallas McCade's story in Book Two: The Cowboy's Surrender.

###

### Return to Stone Creek Series #1

### Her Reluctant Rancher

**A Contemporary Western Novel**

by

Anne Marie Novark

Trevor Callahan's grandfather is dead. As a kid, living with the stern old man had been a pure living hell. Trev returns to Stone Creek for one reason and one reason only: To sell the Rocking C Ranch. Maybe then he can put his past behind him and move on.

Beth Evans once confused lust for love and vows never to let it happen again. The bookmobile driver is trying to raise funds to build a new library. The late Hank Callahan bequeathed one million dollars for the project, but he attached one stipulation: Do not let his grandson sell the ranch.

***

Her Reluctant Rancher

Copyright © 2011 by Anne Marie Novark

***

### Dedication

### For my mother, BK Reeves:

### Mentor, critique partner, friend.

### Thanks, Mom.

### And to James, who never doubted my success.

### You are my own personal hero.

### ***

### CHAPTER ONE

Trevor Callahan pulled his truck to a stop in front of the rambling old ranch house that had belonged to his grandfather. He made no move to get out of the truck, but sat still and erect, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles ached from the pressure.

Trev had grown up in this house. The place should have held good memories, but didn't. Hank Callahan was dead and the only thing Trev felt was relief. He'd returned to Stone Creek, Texas, to settle his grandfather's estate and sell the Rocking C Ranch. The sooner he was rid of it the better.

The noonday sun burned brightly. It was already hot for the middle of May, promising a scorcher of a summer in the weeks to come. Bermuda grass struggled to grow in the dusty red soil surrounding the two-story house. The wooden columns supporting the front porch needed a fresh coat of paint

Trev climbed out of the pickup truck and walked toward the house. On the porch, two large clay pots filled with red geraniums flanked the front door. The splashes of color emphasized the neglect surrounding them.

When he reached the porch steps, the door opened and out walked a little girl. Trev froze in his tracks. _What the hell was a kid doing in Hank's house?_

The screen door slammed behind her. Cocking her head, she frowned. "Who are you?"

Trev frowned back. "Trevor Callahan. Who are you?"

"I'm Margaret Lynn Evans. Mommy calls me Mags, but you can call me Maggie." She studied him, obviously taking his measure. "You sure don't look like your pictures."

"What pictures?"

"You know. In the magazines. You don't look like your pictures in them."

Trev stepped onto the porch and looked down at her. For such a small person, she certainly seemed sure of herself. "I'm not photogenic."

"Huh?" She tilted her head, studying him some more. "Oh well, the pictures aren't _that_ bad. But you look a lot better in person." When she smiled, something shifted in Trevor's chest. He rubbed the offending spot, trying to make the strange feeling go away.

"You know," Maggie said, hands on hips. "It's about time you showed up. We've been waiting forever."

Before he could reply, she opened the door and disappeared inside. "Mommy! Guess who's here?"

Trev shook his head and followed the little girl into the house. Standing in the foyer, he braced himself. For what, he didn't know. Bad memories? Hank's ghost?

Get a grip, Callahan.

An amused husky voice drifted in from the kitchen. "Calm down, Mags. Who in the world is it?"

"It's that man. Trevor Callahan."

" _What_?" Maggie's mom said. "He's here? Did you let him in?"

"No, I left him on the porch. Can we eat now?"

"Why didn't you let him come in? Goodness, what can he be thinking? Oh my." The woman stopped abruptly in the doorway when she saw Trevor standing in the foyer.

She was pretty. Very pretty. A sleeveless green blouse and denim shorts complemented nice curves and long legs. She had gorgeous eyes and full, generous lips. A mop of long curly red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, making it difficult to guess her age. Early to mid-twenties probably. Nothing shifted inside Trev's chest as he gave her the once over, but another part of his body suddenly stirred to life.

"You're Trevor Callahan?" She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and eyed him up and down. "You look nothing like your pictures."

What was it with the pictures? "So I've been told."

The woman grinned. "Mags said that, too?"

Her grin was contagious, but Trev rarely grinned. "Yeah, she mentioned something about it."

"Mags has a habit of speaking her mind."

"Like her mother?"

"Hey, I didn't say it was a good habit." She slung the dishtowel over her shoulder. "Wow, I can't believe you're finally here. Hank died almost eight months ago. His lawyer's been trying to contact you forever."

"I've been out of the country." Trev looked around the living room. His grandfather had remodeled and bought a few new pieces of furniture. Had he bought himself a new little wife, too? "And you are?"

"I'm sorry." The woman offered her hand. "Beth Evans. I was a friend of Hank's."

Trev shook her hand, conscious of soft skin sliding against his palm. "A friend?"

She jerked her hand away, green eyes blazing. "Not that kind of friend, Mr. Callahan."

He shrugged. "My mistake. I wasn't expecting to see anyone except Bonita. Is she still the housekeeper?"

"Yes, but she's not here right now--"

"Mommy!" Maggie yelled from the kitchen. "I'm hungry."

"Just a minute, baby," Beth called over her shoulder. She turned back to Trevor. "Hey, do you want some lunch? We were about to sit down when Mags heard you pull up. I can make more sandwiches." She didn't wait for an answer, but led the way to the kitchen.

Trev followed, enjoying the view of her backside while wondering what kind of relationship Beth Evans had shared with his grandfather. And why would she have wanted any kind? The old man had been the worst kind of bastard. Rough around the edges, harsh, strict. Antisocial. An unlikely acquaintance for someone like this lively young woman.

Trev sat at the same metal table that had stood in the kitchen when he'd been a boy. Hank had upgraded the room with new cabinets and appliances, making the old chrome dinette set look out of place in the new surroundings. Just like Trev felt. Had always felt.

Maggie sat on a chair with three stacked encyclopedias boosting her up to the table. She stared at Trevor and he stared back. He couldn't tell how old she was; he didn't know that much about children.

"So, you're Poppy's grandson," she said.

"Poppy?" What was this? _The Twilight Zone_? What were the woman and kid doing here? His grandfather had been wealthy. Was Beth some kind of gold digger? Trev had plenty of experience with money-hungry women, but for some reason, he didn't think Beth was one of them. Or maybe he just didn't want to. He watched her move around the kitchen. She had a fresh innocent look about her. He reminded himself that looks could be deceiving.

"That's what Mags called Hank." Beth placed a platter of sandwiches, a jar of pickles and a bag of chips on the table. She poured iced tea for herself and Trevor, milk for Maggie. Then she sat down and began filling her daughter's plate.

The little girl sighed. "I miss him something awful."

Beth ruffled the gold curls. "I know, baby. I miss him, too."

"Do you miss Poppy?" Maggie asked Trevor. She took a bite of her sandwich and looked at him with big blue eyes.

_Aw, hell_. He didn't want to lie to the little girl, but then again, he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "I hadn't seen Hank in years. I left the ranch a long time ago."

"Well, he sure missed you," Maggie said. "He told me--"

"Margaret Lynn, eat your lunch."

Maggie shrugged and grinned at Trevor. "She only calls me that when I'm in trouble. Am I in trouble, Mommy?"

"Mags, please. Mr. Callahan doesn't want to hear about Hank."

Trev took a drink of his tea. How did Beth Evans know he didn't want to hear about his grandfather? How much did she know about his relationship with Hank?

"But why?" Maggie asked. "Poppy was his grandpa. I don't understand."

"Hush. Eat your lunch." Beth selected a sandwich and opened the pickle jar. "I'm sorry," she said to Trev. "Mags is five, going on thirteen."

"Five and a half," the little girl said. "I'm five and a half."

"That old, huh?" Trev asked, amused in spite of himself. Something about the kid was getting to him. The whole situation was getting to him.

Maggie nodded and took another bite of sandwich. She watched him as she chewed and swallowed. "I like you," she said suddenly. "I'm glad you came."

That weird sensation shifted again inside Trev's chest. He didn't like it. He didn't trust it either.

"Mags, eat." Beth offered the platter to Trevor. "It's tuna. Probably not what you're used to, but it's good."

"Tuna's fine." Trev grabbed two sandwiches and chowed down. The trip from Tulsa had taken all morning, and he'd only had a cup of coffee before he'd flown down in his Cessna. Janet had arranged for the truck to be waiting at the Stone Creek Airport. Thank God for competent secretaries.

Silence settled around the table while everyone focused on their meal. Before it became awkward, Beth spoke up. "Hank told me you own a construction company. And of course, I read all about you in _Time_. Do you enjoy your--"

"He doesn't look like his pictures, does he, Mommy? He says he's not photo . . . photo . . . What was that word you used?" She took a drink of milk, leaving a white mustache over her cute little mouth.

"Photogenic," Trev said. Yeah, the kid was definitely getting to him.

"Photo . . . genic." She beamed at him. "What's that mean 'zactly?"

Beth handed her daughter a napkin. "It means he doesn't take pictures very well." She glanced at Trev and offered a shy smile.

Damn, she was good looking. Trevor found himself wanting to smile again. Her red hair glowed in the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window. A sprinkle of pale freckles traipsed across her nose and cheeks. When she licked a crumb from her bottom lip, Trev's body flexed in response. _Well, hell._

He gulped down half his tea. Where was the husband? Beth said she was staying here at the ranch. Was there a husband? Did Trev want there to be a husband?

"He looks a lot better than his pictures. Don't you think, Mommy?"

"I . . ." Beth's green eyes snagged his and a blush stained her cheeks. She quickly looked away.

Trev felt the awareness crackle across the table between them, and he didn't think it was all one-sided either.

Interesting.

"Well, don't you think he looks better than his pictures?" Maggie took another drink of milk.

"Yes," Beth said, keeping her eyes on her plate. "Eat your sandwich, Mags."

Maggie smiled at Trevor. "So now you don't have to feel bad about your pictures in the magazines."

"Thank you. I appreciate that." He looked at the woman sitting across from him. The blush became more pronounced.

Beth cleared her throat and lifted her head. "Do you enjoy your work? It must be exciting to travel all over the world building hotels and convention centers."

"It's not glamorous, if that's what you're thinking."

She chuckled. "Maybe not to you, but . . . Wow, I can't even imagine having the kind of money you have." She closed her eyes and groaned. "Oh God, I can't believe I said that. I told you I'm as bad as Mags. Worse, even."

"Hey, I'm not bad!" Maggie said.

"Of course not, pumpkin. I meant you sometimes say things you shouldn't." Beth glanced at Trevor. "Just like I do. I'm sorry I said that. I'm feeling a little awkward here. I mean, I'd gotten used to the fact that Hank had more money than he knew what to do with. But his picture was never in _Time_ or _Newsweek_. He was just good old Hank with the battered Stetson and scuffed cowboy boots."

_Good old Hank_? Trev had definitely stepped into _The Twilight Zone_. "Don't worry about it," he said. "Can I ask you a question?"

Beth nodded.

"How did you become acquainted with my grandfather? And why are you here?"

Maggie scooted out of her chair and jumped to the floor. "Finished. I'm going to work on our project."

"Wait!" Beth caught the little girl's arm as she darted past. "We need to clean you up."

Trev watched while Beth guided her daughter to the sink and wiped her mouth and hands clean. Maggie wiggled and sighed and wiggled some more.

"All done." Beth kissed the top of her head.

The little girl drooped her shoulders and let her arms hang down by her sides. She let out another huge sigh. " _Now_ can I go work on the project?"

"Sure. But don't climb the ladder. Promise you won't."

"Okay, I promise." Beth patted her daughter's bottom before the little girl took off at a run.

"What kind of project?" Trev asked.

Maggie skidded to a halt and turned around. "A very important project. Me and Mommy are organizing Poppy's books according to the Dewey Decimal System."

"Dewey Decimal System?"

Maggie looked at him as if he were a dunce. "You know, like in the library? Poppy gave Mommy all his books for the new library." The little girl flew out of the kitchen leaving Trev stunned and skeptical. His grandfather had never been known for his generosity. What the hell was going on here?

****

Beth walked slowly back to the table, acutely aware of Trevor Callahan's eyes lasered on her. She wished Mags hadn't left her alone with him.

"Hank gave you his books?" he asked.

The deep voice sent a jolt of something warm and fluid coursing through her body. "Yes, he did. Well, to the library, not to me personally."

She sank into the chair before her knees gave way. Hank's grandson made her nervous and awkward. Mags was right. The man looked a lot better in real life than in his photographs. A whole lot better.

Trevor's eyes narrowed. Intense, hard gray eyes. A shiver of awareness shot up her spine. "Why did Hank give you the books?" he asked.

Beth tried to concentrate on the conversation. "Hank didn't think you'd want them. You don't want them, do you?" His grandfather's extensive collection filled walls and walls of shelves in the old man's private study. She knew Trev hadn't gotten along with Hank. They'd been estranged for years. She hoped like heck he didn't want the books.

"No, I don't want them," he said. "But you still haven't answered my question. In fact, you haven't answered any of my questions."

Beth leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her own eyes. "Is this an interrogation?"

"No, I just want some explanations." He sat back and imitated her stance.

The man was too arrogant for his own good. And too damned handsome by far. He was big and muscular. His powerful presence filled the kitchen, making Beth extremely conscious of her femininity. Her body tingled all over, with a sexually-aware kind of tingle she hadn't experienced in a long time.

"Well?" He raised one eyebrow. His black hair was cut short. Almost too short. He had a long jaw line and a straight nose. There were two deep furrows between his thick brows, indicating a habitual frown. He definitely wasn't Beth's type. If she had a type, which she didn't. She never dated. No way. No how. Not since Mags. And even if she did date, this man was way out of her league.

He was filthy rich. She wasn't.

Beth cleared her throat. "You asked how I met Hank. I came to Stone Creek when Mags was a baby, so my parents could help me with her."

Trev grabbed another sandwich. "Where's her father?"

The man could sure put away the food, Beth thought. But there wasn't an ounce of fat on his body that she could see. Only muscle and brawn. Lordy, lots of muscle and lots of brawn.

Beth took a deep breath. "He left before she was born. I was young. He was young." She shrugged. "At least I have Mags."

Trev nodded. "She's a cool kid. I don't know much about children, but do all five-year-olds talk the way she does? I mean, come on . . . The Dewey Decimal System?"

Beth grinned and shrugged. "Mags is very bright. She's been reading since she was two. I have a tough time keeping up with her."

"I bet. So, you came to Stone Creek when Maggie was a baby?"

"Yeah, I tried to make it on my own for a while, but going to college, working and taking care of Mags was difficult." Beth didn't like to think about how difficult that time had been. "Mom and Dad moved here from Midland. They're _semi-retired_ , or so they say. Mom runs a beauty shop three days a week and Dad works part time at the golf course. I live in a garage apartment behind their house."

Trevor frowned. "You seem to be making yourself right at home here. Why is that?"

"Long story."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Beth sipped her tea. The man certainly had an attitude. He was demanding and oh so sure of himself. She needed to keep in mind what he'd done to Hank. "Like Mags said, Hank left me the books after he died. I've been spending my free time organizing them. Mags and I sometimes stay over and sleep in one of the guest rooms. Bonita enjoys the company. She adores Mags."

"Your daughter's a charmer," he said with a hint of a smile.

Beth nodded. His smile seemed rusty and she wondered why. Dragging her gaze from his lips, she caught Trevor looking at her. She took another deep breath. "Mag's charm came in handy in dealing with Hank."

"How's that?" He popped a couple of chips into his mouth.

Look away from the man's mouth, Beth.

She took another sip of tea. "I drive the county bookmobile and I'd heard about his huge collection. We're always short on books and rarely get anything new. So one day I approached him about lending some of his books out."

"And what was my grandfather's reaction?"

"He wasn't very receptive. In fact, he flat out refused." Beth remembered Hank standing behind the screen door, looking at her like she'd lost her mind. The old man had been infamous for his rudeness. He'd lived a hermit-like existence after his grandson had abandoned him. The grandson sitting across the table from her now.

"That doesn't surprise me," Trevor said. "But somehow I don't think you let it go at that."

"You're right, I didn't. I came back the next week and I brought Mags with me. Need I say more?"

"She charmed the books out of Hank?" There was that rusty smile again. Beth's stomach fluttered in response.

"Oh yeah," she said. "Mags wrapped the old man around her little finger in a matter of minutes. After that, Hank's ranch was a regular stop on my bookmobile route."

Those gray eyes lasered onto her again. "You don't look like the librarian type. You don't fit the image at all."

Beth shrugged a shoulder. "Can't judge a book by its cover."

"Don't I know it?" The tone of his voice made Beth think he'd been deeply hurt by someone. A woman? Hank? But Trevor had been the one to cut off all communication with his grandfather, hadn't he?

She watched as he finished his sandwich, wiped his mouth and threw down his napkin. "When will Bonita be back?"

"I'm not sure," Beth said, toying with her chips. "She went to Laredo. Her mother is ill. I naturally offered to stay here and look after the place while she's gone."

"You naturally offered?" He looked like he didn't understand the concept.

"Well, yes. There was no one else to help out. Bonita didn't want to just up and leave. But her mother is old and--"

"What about Leo?"

"Leo? He has enough to do overseeing the hands and keeping the ranch running."

"So, you moved in?" He made it sound like she was going to use squatter's rights to take control of the Rocking C Ranch.

"Only temporarily," she said. "To help Bonita. Now that you're here, of course I'll leave." No way could she stay in the house with Trevor in residence. She felt dizzy just thinking about it. Her hormones had awakened from a long dormant sleep and Beth didn't trust the little suckers. Not one bit. They'd gotten her into trouble once and she didn't want that to happen again. When it came to men, Beth knew she was a walking disaster.

She picked up her sandwich and bit into it. What with talking so much, she'd neglected her food. And she was hungry. She and Mags had worked all morning sorting books.

Trevor poured more iced tea in his glass. Beth felt his eyes on her as she ate. Her stomach flip-flopped again. Oh no, she couldn't stay.

"You don't have to leave," he said, breaking the awkward silence.

Beth jerked her head up and stared at him. "Excuse me? Yes, I do. I'm leaving."

"No, you're not. There's no reason for you to go. I'll be in and out a lot while I'm in Stone Creek. You obviously have a big job to do with the books. We won't get in each other's way. And I'll make it worth your while."

Beth frowned. Surely the man didn't mean that like it sounded. "Make it worth my while?"

He shrugged. "Pay for your services."

"My services?" She knew she sounded like a parrot, but she couldn't help it. The man had her flustered.

"Cooking, cleaning, looking after the place. Like you're doing now. Only you'd get compensated."

"I don't want your money."

"What do you want?" he asked softly.

"Nothing." That was a loaded question, one she wasn't prepared to answer at the moment. Beth wanted something from Trevor Callahan all right. She'd been waiting eight long months for him to return to the ranch.

"Stay."

Good lord. That sexy low voice kindled a fire low in Beth's belly. The man was obviously used to getting what he wanted. "I . . . I can't stay."

"Why not?"

"I don't think it would be a good idea." Not good at all considering her hyperactive libido.

"All right. Do you know someone who could fill in until Bonita returns?"

"Why? Can't you fend for yourself?" Silly question. The man probably couldn't boil water or tackle any other household chore. He was so rich, he wouldn't have to.

He shrugged. "I can, but I'm not accustomed to it. I have a housekeeper and personal assistant in Tulsa."

Just as she'd thought. "And I suppose they look after your every need?"

"Not all of them." A flash of heat flared in his eyes. It was gone just as fast. "Do you know anyone who would be interested in the job?"

Good grief, the man was lethal. She needed to keep up her guard. Keep in mind what he'd done to Hank. Keep in mind what she needed from him. "I can't think of anybody off the top of my head."

"So, you're going to leave me in the lurch?" he asked. "You're going to let Bonita down?"

Oh, the man was good. "Look, Mr. Hotshot, you might manipulate everyone else around you, but not me."

"I'm not trying to manipulate--"

She raised her eyebrows and lifted her chin.

"Okay, okay. I was trying to be a nice guy for once."

"You're not a nice guy?"

"Not usually."

"Never?"

He shook his head.

"I see." Beth wondered what he meant, but was afraid to ask. Considering how he'd left Hank--that hadn't been nice at all. And it didn't bode well for her plans.

"Look," he said. "I thought you could continue like you've been doing and the arrangement would benefit us both."

"Well . . ." Beth sighed. She never could resist anyone who needed help.

"I won't be here for long," he continued. "And I'm not going to jump your bones, if that's what you're afraid of."

"Certainly not! I didn't mean--" But that was exactly what she was afraid of. She hadn't felt this kind of attraction since Matt Evans. The father of her child. The husband who'd left her high and dry.

"Maggie will be the perfect chaperone." Trevor seemed amused by the situation, but the gleam in his eyes issued a dare.

"That's true," Beth said, rising to the challenge. "And it _would_ be more convenient for me. The next couple of weeks are going to be hectic, what with school coming to a close." And she really needed to get those books organized.

Plus there was a decided advantage to staying at the ranch. Without his cooperation, she was doomed. That settled it.

"I'll stay," she said.

"Good. You won't even know I'm here." Trevor leaned back again and crossed his arms over his broad chest. The top two buttons of his black knit shirt were undone revealing a dark hairy chest. Black hair covered his sinewy arms.

Beth's throat went dry. The man was dangerous. Could she actually live in the same house with him, day in and day out, without giving in to her hormones? Of course she could. She was older now, wasn't she? A mother, for heaven's sake. And she'd learned her lesson the hard way.

Besides, Trevor Callahan couldn't possibly be interested in Beth Evans. They were from totally different worlds. And she couldn't really be interested in a man like him anyway. Look what he'd done to Hank, she reminded herself. Besides, the man wasn't looking for a relationship, for crying out loud. He wanted a housekeeper, so a housekeeper she would be. Nothing more, nothing less.

### CHAPTER TWO

After hauling his bags upstairs to his old room, Trev inspected the house from top to bottom. Except for Hank's room. He wasn't ready to face that yet, so he skipped it and made his way outside to the barns, stables and corrals.

The Rocking C Ranch was famous for beef cattle and cutting horses. That's all his grandfather had ever cared about. His ranch and his livestock. Nothing else had mattered. Nothing else had been important.

After Trev sold the ranch, he would never have to think about his grandfather again. He would finally be free.

About damned time.

The barnyard and stables looked pretty much the same as he remembered. The fences were new and there were several buildings that hadn't been around when Trev had lived on the ranch.

Except for the wind rustling through the mesquite trees and the noises made by the animals, everything was quiet. Not unusual for a Sunday afternoon. Most of the hands probably had the day off, either lounging in the bunkhouse or visiting family and friends. A few would be riding the range, taking care of the cattle and horses.

Trev knew Leo Smith would be working in the office next to the stable. Hank's foreman and right-hand man took his job seriously. Always had. Always would. The Rocking C was as important to Leo as it had been to Hank.

The earthy smell of horses and hay greeted Trev when he walked into the stable, triggering an onslaught of memories. The stable had been his refuge during the difficult years with his grandfather. Leo had been his refuge, too. How many times had the man stood up to Hank on Trev's behalf?

Twenty years ago, Trev had left the Rocking C. Now, for the first time, he realized not only had he rejected his grandfather, he had also abandoned Leo.

"Hey, boy!" A low gritty voice cut into his thoughts. Leo stood at the door leading to his office. "I thought I heard someone pull up to the house earlier. Didn't know it was you. Come on in. Let me take a look at you, son."

The foreman's appearance shocked Trev. Leo was still big and sturdy with skin like tanned leather. But his black hair was silver now, the lines on his face deeper. He had to be sixty or sixty-five years old. Somehow, Trev hadn't thought about how much the man would have changed during the passing years. What else had changed?

"How're you doing, Leo?" He shook hands with the old man.

"Aw, hell, son. That ain't gonna hack it." Leo wrapped his arms around Trev's shoulders and gave him a big bear hug. He slapped him several times on the back, then hugged him again.

"You look good, boy," he said, holding Trev at arm's length.

"So do you, Leo. So do you." Trev didn't like the rush of emotions clogging his brain. He hadn't let himself feel anything in a long time. It was better that way. Safer. Caring made a man weak. If his grandfather had taught him anything, it was that. And a man never showed weakness. Never.

It crossed his mind though, that Leo had never been afraid to show his feelings. And Leo Smith was one of the strongest, toughest men Trev had ever known. Funny how he'd never thought about it that way before.

"Have a seat." Leo indicated a chair in front of the large oak desk. "Been too damn long, boy. You should've come home sooner."

Trevor sank into the chair. "You know why I didn't."

Leo sat behind his desk. He lifted his Stetson and raked his fingers through his gray hair. "Yeah, I know. Cain't rightly say I blame you. But I missed your sorry hide. Bonita did, too. And believe it or not, so did Hank."

"Sure he did," Trev said. "He told me not to let the door hit me in the butt when I left. Yeah, he missed me all right."

"Son, your granddaddy was a hard man--"

"A hard ass, you mean."

Leo shrugged. "No gettin' past that. But he mourned your going. As the years went by, Hank regretted how he'd treated you."

Trev shifted in his seat. "I don't care. He was a mean son of a bitch and we both know it. I was a kid. What he did wasn't right."

"I never approved of how he treated you," Leo said. "It was wrong. He had his reasons--"

"I don't want to talk about it." Trev didn't want to think about it. That part of his life was over. Long gone and buried.

"You need to talk about it," Leo said. "Talkin' helps. I didn't used to think so, but I'm older now. Wiser, I hope. When you're ready, I'll be here."

"I'll never be ready."

"Just remember what I said." Leo leaned back in his chair. "So, you've finally come home. How long you plannin' to stay?"

The moment of truth had arrived. Trev had to tell Leo what he was going to do. He rotated his shoulders to ease the tension there. He hadn't thought it would be this hard. "The Rocking C was never my home. Not really. I'm selling the ranch."

Leo shot out of his chair like a rocket. " _Selling the Rocking C?_ "

"Yes."

"Hell and tarnation, boy! Why would you want to do a fool thing like that?"

"You know my reasons."

The foreman sat back down, muttering curses under his breath. "Damn Hank Callahan and his mule-headed ways. He was afraid this was going to happen, but I didn't think you'd actually go through with it. And it's his own damned sorry fault. Would he ever listen to me? Hell no. Once he set his mind on something, there was no budging him, come hell or high water."

"That about sums him up, all right," Trev said.

"You need to think this through, boy."

"You don't think I have? By getting rid of the ranch, I'm getting rid of Hank's last hold on me. My mind's made up."

Leo shook his head. "You're more like your granddaddy than you think."

"Don't insult me." Trev didn't want to be like Hank in any way, shape or form.

"It's not an insult. Hank was a hard man, but he thought he was doin' right by you. In his own twisted way, he loved you."

A long time ago, Trev had wanted Hank's love. Now, he didn't care. "I don't believe that."

"Damn, I wish you'd known him before your mom and dad were killed." Leo paused and thought a minute. "No, Hank changed before that. He was a different man before your grandma died. He adored that woman. Broke his heart when she passed away."

"Well, he changed for the worse, didn't he?"

"That's for sure," Leo said.

A knock sounded on the door, then it creaked opened. Maggie peeked inside. "Hey, Leo."

"Come on in, little darlin'."

Smiling, Maggie walked in and closed the door behind her. "It's three o'clock."

Leo glanced at his watch. "You're right on time. I'll be with you in a sec."

Maggie nodded. "Hello, Trevor."

"Hey, Maggie. You finish with your project?"

"Heck, no. It's going to take a long time to sort all those books. Mommy's still there. But she'll take a break and be here soon. Leo gives me riding lessons on Sunday afternoons."

"I see." Trevor looked over at Leo. The old man had a goofy expression on his face. Obviously, Maggie had charmed him, just as she'd charmed Hank. Just as she'd charmed Trevor from the first moment they'd met.

The kid looked cute dressed in a red-plaid shirt, jeans and red boots. An old battered cowboy hat covered her golden curls, rigged with a ribbon that tied under her chin. Even so, the hat was too large and slipped low on her forehead. He'd know that hat anywhere. "Where'd you get the hat, Maggie?"

"It was Poppy's. Leo gave it to me. You know . . . something to remember him by."

Leo cleared his throat and stood. "Hank was mighty partial to this little lady."

"So I've been told," Trev said.

Maggie walked around the desk and took hold of Leo's hand. "Leo's my bestest friend now. 'Cause he's teaching me to ride like a real cowboy."

The old man cleared his throat again. "Well, I'm right honored to be your friend, missy. Now, you go on and I'll be out directly."

"Can I feed Thunder Two a sugar cube?"

"Sure thing. Tom's around somewhere. Ask him for a few cubes and a couple of carrots. But don't climb on his stall. Or any of the stalls. Understand?"

"I won't." Maggie hugged Leo's leg and dashed for the door. She stopped before opening it. "Want to watch me ride, Trevor?"

Her question surprised him. "You want me to?"

Maggie nodded and the large hat bobbed with the movement. "Yes. I'm pretty good."

"Then I'll be sure to watch."

The little girl beamed at him and disappeared into the stable.

"She's a pistol," Leo said with a smile.

"Yes, she is." Trev shoved back his chair and stood. "Did I hear her say _Thunder Two_?"

"Yes, sir. You heard right."

"Sired by Thunder? _My_ Thunder?"

"Yes, sir."

Trev shook his head. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Yeah, who would have thought? That colt was a scrawny little thing when you left for college. Downright amazing how well he turned out. One of the Rocking C's best studs ever."

"Hard to believe."

"Well, you never know, do you?" Leo adjusted his hat. "Look, I promised the little lady a trail ride today. Why don't you come along?"

"I haven't been on a horse since I left the ranch."

"Oh, come on now. I taught you to ride myself. It ain't something you forget. I'll take you around the place. We'll ride down by the creek. I want to show you something."

"Yeah? What would that be?"

"You'll have to come along to find out."

"I don't like the sound of that. You know how I hate surprises."

"That's tough, because this is goin' to surprise the hell out of you."

Leo didn't wait for a response, but marched out the office door. Trev slowly followed. He didn't know if he could stand any more surprises. Hell, hadn't he had enough for one day?

First, Beth and Maggie making themselves at home in Hank's house had taken him by surprise. Second, their impressions of Hank didn't jive with the stern man Trev had known. Third, and in no way the least, was Trev's strong attraction to the young mother. Pleasant, but unwelcome. And what about the kid and the strange feelings she stirred in his chest? Oh yeah, he'd had enough surprises today. He sure didn't need any more.

****

The sun blazed high in the blue West Texas sky. Maggie skipped alongside Trev and Leo as they led four horses from the stables. The red dirt crunched dry and dusty under Trev's boots. "How long since it's rained?" he asked.

"Too damn long." Leo tied the horses' reins to the fence and started to lift Maggie onto one. "Up you go, little darlin'."

"Wait! I want _him_ to help me and I want to use the mounting block this time." Maggie turned those baby blues Trev's way. "Please, Trevor?"

The little girl was an expert in the use of feminine wiles, he thought with amusement. Hell, Leo was bending over backwards for her. Trev bet she had all the ranch hands kneeling at her tiny booted feet. He had a funny feeling he was next on her list and there wasn't a damn thing he'd be able do about it.

"Honey, Trevor hasn't been near a horse in years," Leo said. "He can help you next time, okay?"

Maggie sighed a mournful sigh. "Okay."

_Aw, hell_.

He nudged Leo out of the way. "I'll help her."

"You sure, son?"

"You doubting my ability?"

Leo shook his head and grinned. "No way. Be my guest."

"Let's go, Maggie." Trev led the docile mare, perfect for a beginning horseman, to the mounting block. He tried to help the little girl mount, but she pushed his hands away.

"I can do it myself."

"You can?" Trev heard Leo's chuckle in the background and frowned at him over his shoulder.

"Sure, I can. Just watch."

"So why did you want my help?"

"To hold Firefly steady." Maggie stepped on the block and threw her leg over the saddle. She took the reins in competent little hands and straightened the hat on her head. "You can fix the stirrups, please."

Trev fought a smile. She sounded like a princess ordering one of her subjects. He adjusted the girth and the stirrups. "All set, kiddo."

"Thanks." Maggie bent low and patted Firefly's neck, then straightened in the saddle. "Now, go get on your horse and--hey, Mommy!"

"Hey, baby. Sorry I'm late."

The warm husky voice slid over Trev's back as he checked the stirrups one more time. He patted the horse's rump before turning to face Beth Evans.

"You're not late," Maggie said. "Trevor's helping me mount. Want him to help you?"

"Um . . . No, that's okay." Beth stopped in the middle of the barnyard, as if afraid to proceed further. "I don't need his help."

Trev gave Beth a quick once over. She'd changed clothes, too. Red-plaid shirt, jeans and red boots. Identical to her daughter's outfit. Only she didn't look cute like Maggie. Oh, no. Cute didn't begin to describe the way she looked.

The shirt emphasized her figure, hugging her breasts, tapering down to fit her narrow waist. The jeans molded the flare of her hips and made her long legs appear even longer. The red boots were sexy as hell.

"Trevor's going to ride with us," Maggie said. "Isn't that great?"

"Yeah, great," Beth said.

Trev didn't miss her lack of enthusiasm, and he wondered what was wrong. When she turned toward Leo and the horses, he swallowed a groan. Faded denim stretched tight across Beth's shapely rear end. The fabric outlined mouthwatering curves that made him want to cup the firm flesh with his hands. He wanted to touch her . . .

_Whoa, Callahan. You just met the woman_.

This flash-fire attraction was dangerous in more ways than one. They were going to be living together. What the hell had he been thinking?

She wasn't his type. Not his usual type, anyway, although, his body was fast convincing him otherwise.

Trev reined in his libido and mounted his horse. It felt good to be in the saddle again. All that power beneath him--man and beast. It had been too damn long.

"Maggie and I are going to take the lead," Leo said. "You and Beth bring up the rear."

"Gotcha." Trev maneuvered his horse next to Beth. "You ready?"

She nodded. A frown marred her freckled forehead, making Trev wonder again what was wrong.

They didn't say much as they rode through the pasture. Both of them listened to Leo give Maggie instructions on handling the horse. Trev took in the scenery, searching for familiar landmarks. On the left stood the lone cottonwood tree. It was majestic now, bigger and taller than he remembered. Up ahead, he saw the grove of mulberry trees, surrounded by mesquites and large clumps of prickly pear cactus. A warm wind rustled the leaves all around. Trev adjusted his butt in the saddle, an unfamiliar smile twitching at his lips. He was actually enjoying the ride.

After a little while, he became aware of Beth's steady gaze on him. Her frown was still pronounced. He'd been trying to ignore her, ignore her effect on his body, but he didn't want to be rude. "How old are you?" he asked suddenly.

Her eyes widened and the frown disappeared. Then she chuckled, a deep throaty sound that shot straight to his groin. He gripped the reins in tight fists.

"You should know better than to ask a woman her age," she said. "It's not very nice."

"I'm not nice." Right now, he felt anything but nice.

"That's the second time you've told me that. Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" Beth frowned again. "Or is that some kind of warning?"

"Maybe. Probably. You should be careful." They both should be careful.

"Should I?" She cocked her head and stared at him from beneath her hat. Her green eyes glowed like emeralds.

Trev decided they were skirting treacherous waters and changed the subject. "You get that hat from Hank?"

She shot him a look before answering. A strange look. An accusing look. "Yeah, Mags insisted we match perfectly."

"She always get her way?"

Beth shrugged. "Most times. I try to pick my battles. She's very strong-willed."

"As well as intelligent."

"Yes, Mags is extremely precocious," she said, gazing at her daughter riding up ahead.

"So, are you going to tell me how old you are?"

"What is it with--"

"Answer the question."

"I'm twenty-four."

"Damn, you were a little kid when I left Stone Creek."

"I didn't live here then," she said.

"And that makes a difference?"

"Of course, it makes a difference. It doesn't matter anyway, does it?" She almost smiled, but instead, looked away.

Disappointment hit Trev low in the gut. He wanted to see her smile. He liked her smile. Liked it too much.

"Have I done something to offend you?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think about it. He wanted to call them back, but it was too late.

She snapped her head toward him. Twin spots of color burned her cheeks. "No, you haven't offended me. I was thinking . . . wondering . . ."

Huh-oh. "Wondering what?"

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "Why did you leave Hank and never come back and see him again?"

Well hell. No wonder she was shooting poisonous looks his way. "Hank and I never got along. He didn't like me."

"That's not true. Hank loved you. He missed you."

"Look, the Hank you knew was apparently not the same Hank I knew."

"He was your grandfather. He was family."

"He didn't treat me like family." Hank had treated his horses a hell of a lot better than he'd ever treated Trev.

"He told me he was sorry--"

"Sorry doesn't cut it," Trev said. "Sorry can't erase the past. Hank treated me like dirt. As soon as I could, I left. End of story."

Silence hung awkwardly in the air.

Beth cleared her throat. "He must have hurt you pretty badly."

"Yeah, well. It was a long time ago. I don't want to discuss it."

"Okay," she said, sitting straight in the saddle. "So, tell me about your work, your life."

"I told you my life isn't exciting."

"I don't believe it."

"It's true. Eighteen-hour days at construction sites, too many nights in hotel rooms. Believe me, not exciting. Let's talk about you and Maggie instead."

She cut him a glance from under her hat. "Why do you want to know?"

"We're going to be living together, aren't we? I'd like to get to know about my roommate." In more ways than one.

Her blush deepened. "We're not living together. I'm your housekeeper, not roommate."

"Whatever." Trev shrugged. "Tell me about yourself. Or do you have something to hide?"

"No, there's not much to tell, that's all." She bit her lip, making Trev think maybe she did have a secret.

"Indulge me," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I bet you're used to people indulging you."

"Of course. I'm waiting."

Beth let out a sigh that sounded remarkably like her daughter's. "Where do you want me to start?"

"How about when you came to live in Stone Creek?"

"Well, I told you Mags was still a baby when we moved here to be near my folks. I got the job driving the bookmobile part-time and I continued the commute to Lubbock to go to school. I'm still going, as a matter of fact."

"What's your major?"

She smiled and two dimples appeared. "Library science. What else?"

"I should have guessed." Damn, those dimples fascinated him. He had a sudden urge to reach over and dip a finger in each small indention. Or kiss one, then the other. _Oh, man._ "So, you go to school part-time, too?"

Beth shook her head. "I carry a full load. Two days a week of school and I work the other three. The semester will be over next week, thank goodness. Then I'll only have twelve more hours to complete my degree."

"Impressive."

"Necessary," she said. "I want Mags to have a good life. I don't want her suffering because I screwed up."

Trev glanced up ahead at Leo and Maggie. They'd put quite a bit of distance between Beth and himself. Even so, Trev could see Maggie sitting confidently in the saddle as she listened intently to Leo's directions. "Your daughter doesn't look like she's suffering. You're doing a good job."

"Thanks." Beth nodded toward Leo and Maggie. "We'd better catch up."

They increased their pace until they closed the distance.

"Sorry, we left y'all behind," Maggie said. "Leo was showing me how to trot. It's so cool. I can't wait to go faster."

"One step at a time," Beth said. "One step at a time."

"I know." Maggie sighed.

"Hey, boy!" Leo called to Trev. "Look over yonder." He pointed toward the creek.

Beth leaned in close. "Boy?" she asked softly. There was a twinkle in her eye. Much different than the looks from a little while ago. Her scent taunted him. Her smile beckoned.

He maneuvered his horse slightly away. "Leo's known me for a long time."

"Ah." Beth straightened in the saddle, a grin playing on her lips. Lips Trev wanted to taste.

Maggie giggled. "Trevor's not a boy, Leo. He's a man."

"He's still a boy to me, little darlin'. I've known Trevor since he wasn't much bigger than you."

"Really?" Maggie looked like she didn't believe the old man.

"Don't listen to him, Maggie," Trev said. "I was much bigger than you."

"Is that when you came to live with Poppy?" she asked.

"Yes, it was." He raised his hand to his forehead to block the sun and looked toward the creek. "What is it we're supposed to see?" he asked Leo.

The old man smiled and tipped back his Stetson. "It's your surprise."

"Oh, goodie," Maggie said. "I love surprises."

"I don't." Trev scanned the area behind the narrow creek trickling through the pasture. He looked right, then left, then started back again. He did a double take when he saw a big black horse. "It can't be . . ." He turned toward Leo.

"Cain't it?" The old man's smile grew larger. Like he was bestowing a gift.

Trev's chest burned and his stomach felt hollow. "Are you telling me that's Thunder?"

"I sure as hell am."

"Well, damn. Hank didn't get rid of him?"

"Get rid of who?" Maggie asked. "What are y'all talking about? I don't see anything."

"Lookie yonder. See that horse?" Leo said. "That horse owes his life to Trevor here."

"Really?" Maggie looked at Trevor with round eyes. "How? What happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened," Leo said. "A long time ago, before Trevor went away to college, there was this terrible storm. Lots of rain and thunder and lightnin'. Not a good day for a horse to be born."

"That horse?" Maggie pointed.

"That very one." Leo looked at Trevor. "You want to tell the story?"

"No, you're on a roll. Go ahead."

"Don't get smart with me," Leo said with a snort. "Anyhow, like I said, it was a stormy day. Hank went to Abilene with some calves to sell, having no idea Lady Luck was going to go into labor so quick."

"Lady Luck was Thunder's mother?" Maggie asked.

"Yes, ma'am. Pretty a mare as ever you did see. Now, this is a sad story, honey. But with a happy ending."

"Okay, as long as it ends happy." The little girl wiggled in her saddle. "Tell me!"

"Well now, Trevor was doing his evening chores, mucking out the stalls and putting out fresh hay. When he got to Lady Luck's stall, she was laying down and already strugglin'. It was too early for her to have her baby, so Trevor called the vet and fetched me from the office."

"What happened then?" Maggie asked.

"The storm got worse, that's what. Thunderheads built up and it started raining like crazy. The roads flooded and the vet couldn't get through. Lady Luck was having a difficult time, like I said. Real difficult. The colt was turned the wrong way. To make a long story, short--"

"Yes, please make it short," Trev said.

Leo frowned at him. "To make a long story, short," he repeated. "Me and Trevor had to pull the colt."

"What's that mean?" Maggie looked from Leo to Trevor.

"Well, now . . ." Leo's weathered skin reddened and he looked to Beth for assistance.

"It means they helped the baby be born," she said.

"And was Lady Luck okay?" Maggie asked.

"That's the sad part, honey," Leo said. "There were complications and Lady Luck didn't make it. But the good part is, the baby did. Now he was a puny little thing and Trevor here had to feed him a bottle. He named the colt Thunder and that's him yonder."

Trev tried not to squirm while Leo finished telling Maggie and Beth the story. Leo was making him sound like some kind of a damn hero. And he was nothing of the kind.

He remembered that day and that night. Hank had praised his quick thinking and assured him he'd done everything possible to save Lady Luck. After so many years, Trev had finally received Hank's approval. But it had been too little and come too late.

### CHAPTER THREE

Beth woke up early the next morning and headed for the kitchen. A nice big breakfast of eggs and bacon would start the week off right. She had every intention of being a good housekeeper and making Trevor's stay at the ranch run smoothly. Whatever she did, she did to the best of her ability.

Supper had been a little awkward the night before and Beth was determined to prevent that from happening again. If they were going to be sharing the house, they needed to feel comfortable around each other. _Okay, maybe not comfortable_. The sexual tension was too thick for that. But they were adults. They could handle it, ignore it. Besides, having sex with a stranger had never been one of Beth's fantasies.

Until now.

She'd spent a restless night filled with hot steamy dreams featuring Trevor Callahan as the star attraction. It hadn't mattered that he was a stranger. He made her feel alive in ways she'd almost forgotten existed. In her dreams and in real life.

The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and crisp-fried bacon filled the kitchen. Between tasks, Beth glanced at the clock. Ten more minutes and it would be time to wake Mags, get her dressed and fed and on the bus. Then Beth could be on her way to school. It was exam week. _Oh joy._

She had a million things to do. She liked to keep busy, but this week she would be running at a frenzied pace, and she didn't like that. Busy was good. Stress and anxiety--not good.

Cracking eggs into a bowl, Beth decided to take it one day at a time. That's all she could handle. One day at a time.

She was putting the platter of bacon into the warming oven, when Trevor walked into the kitchen.

"Morning." He tossed a manila folder on the table, pulled out a chair and sank into it. His hair was damp from his shower and his face smooth and freshly shaved. His clean woodsy scent made every nerve ending in Beth's body start to thrum.

"Good morning." _Cheerful and calm_. She'd be cheerful and calm if it killed her. She poured him a cup of coffee. "Cream and sugar?"

"Black's fine." He accepted the cup from Beth, wrapping his long fingers around the ceramic. He lifted it to his nose and inhaled deeply, then took a long sip and sighed. "It's good and strong. Just the way I like it. Thanks."

Beth knew she was standing there with her mouth hanging open, but the man made drinking coffee a sensual experience. The action seemed so out of character for him. He seemed so controlled and . . .

"Something smells good," he said. "Bacon?"

Beth nodded. "Breakfast'll be ready in a minute. First, I have to go wake Mags or we'll be late."

"Hold on a second." He grabbed her wrist as she walked past, his fingers scorching her skin.

Ignore it, Beth. Ignore the man. Ignore everything.

"You need something?" she asked.

He let her go, but not before she saw awareness flare in his eyes. "Yeah, I need an office. Somewhere I can set up a fax machine and printer. A place to put my laptop so I can read my email, do some work. I would use the study, but you're busy in there."

Beth rubbed her wrist where the heat from his touch still lingered. "How about the dining room? Nobody's using it. We eat all our meals in the kitchen."

"Excellent. Is there a phone line?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

"For the fax machine and Internet access? Don't worry about it. I'll call my secretary. She'll take care of everything. I'll set up shop in the dining room and won't be in your way."

"Hey, you won't be in my way. This is your home, not mine."

Something flickered in his silver-gray eyes. Pain? Regret? "This was never my home. I'm selling the ranch, you know."

"Hank wouldn't want that." Beth didn't want him to sell it either.

"Too bad. I don't care what he wanted."

The man sitting before her was hurting. Beth steeled herself to stay put and not offer comfort. She was a nurturer--helping and comforting were what she did best. "Did he really treat you so badly?"

"Let's just say he made my life a living hell."

"Did he--"

"Look, I told you I don't want to discuss this. Not now, not ever. Go wake your daughter, then I'd like my breakfast." He dismissed her, picked up the folder and began reading.

Beth felt like saluting, but didn't. Turning on her heel, she headed for the door. Mr. Hotshot had certainly put her in her place. He'd been quick to remind her of her position. To remind her they came from different worlds. He was deliberately putting space between them, keeping her at arm's length.

Which was good, Beth told herself. It was better this way. She didn't want things to get complicated and messy. She should feel relieved that Trevor was taking the initiative and ignoring the sizzle. So why did she feel disappointed instead?

****

That afternoon, Trev sat in the attorney's office waiting for his appointment with Hank's lawyer. Hank's lawyer and Trev's former schoolmate and best friend. Small town. Small world.

He flipped through a magazine, the words and glossy photos blurred beneath his unfocused gaze. He'd known returning to Stone Creek would be painful. But he hadn't realized how much it would hurt staying at the ranch and sleeping in the house where he'd been raised.

He tossed the magazine aside. Living in such close quarters with Beth Evans was proving difficult, too. His libido was working overtime. Whenever they were in the same room he felt edgy. Hell, even when they were apart he could still smell her fragrance lingering in the air. Still see evidence of her presence everywhere he turned. She was young, beautiful, sexy. And he wanted her.

But Trev didn't do relationships. And Beth Evans was a relationship kind of woman. She was special. He couldn't give her what she deserved. His emotions had shut down when his parents had died. He had nothing to offer a woman. Or a child.

"Mr. Callahan?" said the secretary from across the room. "Mr. Jamail will see you now."

"Thanks." Trev stood quickly and pushed through the shiny oak doors into the lawyer's office.

"Trev, you old son of a gun! How the hell've you been?" Dave Jamail came around his desk with hand outstretched. He'd gained some weight, but it looked good on his tall frame. "It's been too damned long, buddy."

"Yeah, it has." Trev shook hands and the years fell away. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed Dave. He hadn't realized a lot of things.

His friend slapped him on the shoulder and motioned to a chair. "Have a seat."

Dave had lost a little of his dark wavy hair, but his brown eyes twinkled like always. They'd been opposite personality-wise, but had forged a bond the first day Trev had attended Stone Creek Elementary School. They'd been best buds up until the time Trev left.

Dave picked up a folder and opened it. "So, you've finally come to probate Hank's will. I've been trying to contact you, buddy. You're mighty hard to get hold of."

"I've been in Australia for the past year building a resort hotel in Sydney." Trying to come to grips with his grandfather's death and all the emotional baggage it had entailed.

"You couldn't answer e-mails or return phone calls?"

Trev shrugged. "I couldn't get away. And I didn't want to deal with it. But I'm here now."

"Have you decided what you're going to do?" Dave asked quietly, his brown eyes searching Trev's.

"I'm selling." Getting rid of the place would help him get rid of that baggage. If he kept saying it, maybe he'd start believing it.

Dave frowned at him over the folder in his hands. "Sure you want to do that?"

"You of all people should know how I feel about the place."

"I know, Trev. But that land's been in your family for generations. Hank sure wouldn't want you to sell it."

Why was everyone concerned with what Hank wanted? Hank was dead. Gone. Forever. "I don't want it."

Dave heaved a big sigh. "Suit yourself. I'll arrange a meeting with a realtor."

"Thanks. Can we read the will and get this over with?"

His friend shuffled the papers on his desk. "About the will--I have to tell you--you aren't the only beneficiary."

"What do you mean? I'm Hank's only living relative."

"I know, but he left specific instructions on how he wanted things handled. Hank knew he was dying."

_You should have been there_. Trev heard the unspoken words and saw accusation in Dave's eyes. "What kind of instructions?" he asked.

"Everyone named in the will must be present before I'm allowed to read it."

"Everyone? How many others are there?"

"Not that many. Just Bonita and Leo and--"

"Bonita's in Laredo." Trev was looking forward to seeing her. She'd been kind to him in the old days, and he'd missed her through the years. But not enough to come back.

"Yeah, I'm trying to get in touch with her," Dave said. "See if she can return as soon as possible."

"You do that. I'm only going to be here for two weeks. Maybe three. Not much time to get all this taken care of."

Dave picked up a pen and made some notes. "I'll get on it right away."

Trev glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows, showcasing the buildings across the street and the clouds and sky above. "I'm glad Hank left something for Bonita and Leo in his will, though I should have expected it. He was always real big on duty and responsibility. He drummed it into my head often enough."

"Hank mellowed over the years you were gone, Trev."

"Yeah, right. Any more surprises in the will?"

Dave reshuffled the papers and Trev thought he hesitated a fraction too long. "A couple more people are mentioned."

"Really? Who?" Had Hank become philanthropic in his old age?

"Beth and Maggie Evans," he said. "They were pretty thick with your grandfather."

Beth hadn't mentioned anything about the will. Then again, conversation between them was stilted at best. "Does she know Hank named them in his will?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure," Dave said. "I was waiting for you to get here before contacting her. I'll give her a call and let her know what's going on."

"That's okay, I'll tell her."

Dave smiled. "That's right, she's staying at the ranch. That girl is something else. Always helping people. This latest project of hers--has she told you about it?"

"You mean cataloguing Hank's books?"

"Well, that has something to do with it. She's campaigning to get a new library built in Stone Creek. She has donation cans all over town. She hasn't hit you up for some cash yet?"

"No, Beth hasn't asked me for anything." And why was that? She knew he had money.

Dave chuckled. "She will. Sooner or later, she hits everyone up. Even has the old folks in the nursing home helping her." He looked at his watch. "I've got another client coming in. Listen, let's get together and drink a beer. Maybe eat dinner. I want to run an idea by you. I'm sure you've noticed the changes around Stone Creek."

"It would be hard not to," Trev said. "The town's turning into some sort of baby-boomer retreat."

"Well, we like to think of it as a resort community. Right up your alley. Why don't you meet me at the Stone Soup Cafe tomorrow around seven? I have a business proposition for you."

"I don't know, Dave."

"Aw, come on, buddy. For old time's sake." Dave stood and extended his hand.

Trev shook it. _What the hell._ "Sure, I'll be there."

He left Dave's office and stopped by the lumberyard to pick up a new screen door for the back porch, then the hardware store for some tools. At both checkout counters, he saw the decorated cans marked Library Fund. Again, he wondered why Beth hadn't mentioned it to him.

On the way out of town, he passed a big vacant lot with a huge sign proclaiming the future site of the Stone Creek Public Library. Trev shook his head. Beth Evans was a force to be reckoned with, or so it seemed.

He pulled off the pavement onto Hank's land and followed the dirt road up to the house. He cut the motor, climbed out of the truck and stared at the Stone Creek bookmobile parked under the big mulberry tree next to the house. The large delivery van was painted purple with pictures of books plastered all over the sides.

Beth stepped from the bookmobile and froze when she saw him. Their gazes caught and Trev was once again struck by her natural beauty. Today, she wore an outfit similar to yesterday's--a sleeveless blouse tucked into curve-hugging shorts. She'd left her hair loose and the silky mass flowed past her shoulders, halfway down her back. His fingers itched to bury themselves in the long copper waves.

"How'd your meeting go?" she asked, walking toward the house, her arms full of books.

"Fine." Trev opened the front door and held it for her. "I need to talk to you."

Beth paused on the threshold. "Oh? Sounds important."

"It is important." He stared down at her. She smelled delicious and looked even better. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and feel her lightly freckled skin beneath his hands. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her.

Beth's green eyes widened a bit, as if sensing his thoughts. She quickly moved on and he followed her to Hank's study.

"Could you make it fast?" She dropped the books on a nearby table. "I have to exchange these and run my route. I'm already late as it is." She turned to the shelves and began scanning titles.

Trev leaned on the doorframe and looked around the room. The antique roll-top desk still sat in the corner, flanked by the red leather swivel chair. Shelves of books lined three walls and a fireplace of native stone dominated the fourth. Two wing chairs sat invitingly, ready for relaxing and reading.

Only Trev had never been invited to relax and read in here. The only time he'd come to his grandfather's study was to be scolded and punished for his childish indiscretions.

Trev shook away thoughts of the past and focused his attention on the young woman gathering books for her bookmobile. "Did you know Hank named you and Maggie in his will?"

Beth felt the book she'd chosen slip from her grasp. It fell to the floor with a thud. Crouching down, she took her time retrieving it. How much should she reveal to Trevor Callahan? Should she lie and say she didn't know? No, she hated lies. She'd give only as much information as needed. Slowly, she straightened and turned toward him. "Hank said something about wanting to set up a trust fund for Mags. Did he?"

His gray eyes narrowed, like he suspected her of holding back. Which she was. It was necessary.

"I don't know," he said. "Dave can't read the will until Bonita returns. When did you say she'd be back?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe you could fly her home for a day or two. Then fly her back after the will is read."

"Why would I do that?"

"To help speed things along?" Beth bit her lip. Darn, she didn't want things to speed along. She needed time to gain Trevor's trust and cooperation.

"Great idea. I want to settle this as soon as possible." He stepped into the study. "Dave was right."

"About what?"

"You," he said softly.

Beth swallowed hard. She shivered and turned to the shelves again. Books, she needed to choose books for the bookmobile. She needed to get her mind off the man. A quick glance to the right told her he was standing close. Too close. She focused on the books. "What did Dave say about me?"

He leaned against the bookshelf, his aftershave teasing her senses.

Woodsy . . . Musky . . . Sexy . . .

The books, Beth. The books.

"He said you liked helping people."

Beth shrugged. "So? Don't make it sound like it's a sin. Yeah, I enjoy helping people. Don't you?"

"No."

"Never?" This definitely didn't bode well. She needed his help. Desperately.

"Rarely," he said. "And never out of the kindness of my heart."

"Only if you benefit from it?"

"Something like that. But on the other hand, I rarely ask for help either."

"That sounds like a sad way to live to me."

"Not really. It helped me survive living with Hank."

"But Hank--"

"I don't want to talk about my grandfather." He frowned. "Dave told me something else. Can I ask you a question?"

She moved down the row of books. "Can I stop you?"

He shook his head and almost smiled. Almost, but not quite. Beth wondered how she'd react if he broke out in a real smile. Her toes curled at the thought.

Trevor stepped closer. "Why didn't you tell me about your campaign for the new library?"

Beth lost hold of the books and juggled for balance. Trevor reached out and took them from her, brushing the underside of her breast with his hand. Her nipples tightened and her breath hitched.

He stepped away as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened and placed the books on the library table. Beth fought for air. Oh, man. She was in big trouble here.

"Dave says you hit everyone up for donations," he said. "Why didn't you ask me?"

She wanted a hell of a lot more from Trevor Callahan than a donation for the library fund. "Hey, we only just met, remember? I don't know you well enough yet. It doesn't matter anyway, you said you don't like to help people."

"Ask me, Beth," he said, his voice deep and low. He was standing close again. She could feel the heat from his body, and a corresponding heat building in her own. "Come on, ask me. You ask everyone else."

Did the man know what he was doing to her? Was he aware of what he was making her feel? _Oh yeah._ He was aware all right. He was staring at her mouth. Those gray eyes moved lower for a fraction of a second, rested on her breasts, then moved slowly back to her face again. The way her body responded, he might as well have touched her. Caressed her. Kissed her.

"Ask me," he said again.

Beth took a deep breath and moved away. "I have to get back to work. If you want to make a donation, fine. I'd appreciate it, but don't put yourself out or anything." Smooth, Beth. Antagonize the man, why don't you? That'll go a long way toward gaining his cooperation. "I mean, you said you don't like to help people--"

"Donating money to build a library is different than helping someone out personally."

"Really? I see." But she didn't. How could anyone not want to help someone in need? "I have to go. Spaghetti all right with you for dinner?" She picked up the books and headed for the door, stopped and turned around when he didn't answer.

He stood where she'd left him, frowning like the devil.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You don't like spaghetti?"

"Spaghetti's fine. I'll see you tonight." Trevor didn't move. He just stood there, still frowning.

"Okay, then." Geez, the man frowned a lot. Beth wanted to go back and soothe the furrows from his brow, trace a finger over those strong lips and make him smile. She quickly scooted out the door and left temptation behind.

****

After work, Beth stopped by her mother's beauty shop to pick up Mags. Nancy Prescott was happy to watch her granddaughter after school.

"Honey, do you think it's a good idea to live in the same house with that man? I think you're asking for trouble." Nancy grabbed a broom and started sweeping. The Mane Event was closed for the day and it was time to go home.

"Mom, you know we're not really living together. Nothing's going to happen."

"How can you be sure? This situation has the potential to blow up in your face. And I don't want you to get hurt."

"Nothing's going to happen," Beth said again. Maybe if she kept repeating it, nothing would. Because she had the sinking suspicion her mother was right. Trevor Callahan spelled trouble with a capital T.

"Let me tell you," Nancy said, intent on sweeping every last strand of hair from under a chair. "Your father doesn't like this situation at all."

"That doesn't surprise me. Dad doesn't like to think of me as any older than Mags."

Nancy smiled. "It's difficult for him to realize his baby girl is a grown woman. A beautiful grown woman--"

"Mom, I'll be okay."

"How do you know that? You didn't date much in high school. You always had your nose in a book. And the first guy who came along in college--"

"I learned my lesson with Matt," Beth said quickly. "I won't let it happen again. I can't afford to let anything happen. I have Mags to consider now. And we're doing fine by ourselves." She looked across the shop at her daughter. Mags was kneeling at a low table in the reception area, busy coloring and drawing pictures. "We're doing just fine."

"If you say so, dear."

"I do. Don't worry." Beth turned to straighten the rack of handcrafted items made by the senior citizens to help with the library fund. She picked up the donation can and shook it. "Hey Mags, want to count the money today?"

"Sure!" Maggie came running and took the can.

"You know the drill, baby doll. Stack the bills and coins in piles and I'll help with the math."

"I know, I know." Maggie skipped back to the front of the shop and knelt at the table where she'd been coloring.

Yeah. She and Mags were doing okay. They didn't need Trevor Callahan spoiling everything, messing with their emotions. Messing with Beth's hormones. The only thing she needed from him was his cooperation if the library project was going to succeed. Beth just didn't know how to go about it.

"Mom, I need your advice about something."

"Sure. Hold this for me, will you?" Nancy handed her the dustpan. "What is it, honey?"

Beth crouched down while her mother swept. "Trevor is going to sell the ranch and I can't let that happen."

Nancy stopped sweeping. " _You_ can't let that happen? Why?"

Beth emptied the pan in the garbage, then glanced over her shoulder at Mags. "Let's go in the back."

Her mother nodded. In the utility room, Nancy put away the broom and dustpan. She leaned against the washing machine and crossed her arms. "You have my full attention now. So talk."

How to explain? The situation was complicated. Beth took a deep breath. "Hank promised me a million dollars for the library fund."

" _What_?" Nancy's arms dropped to her sides. "A million dollars! My goodness, that's a lot of money."

"Enough to cover most of the construction costs."

"How generous. I never would have thought--"

"There's a stipulation," Beth said. This was the complicated part.

"A stipulation? What kind of stipulation?"

"In order to get the money, I have to persuade Trevor not to sell the ranch."

Nancy looked thoughtful. "How odd. How did Hank know Trevor would sell? And why would he care?"

Beth sighed. She'd spent months wondering the same thing. "Hank loved the ranch and told me he didn't want it to pass out of the family. He figured Trevor would sell it because of what happened between them. I wish I knew exactly what that was. I thought Trevor had heartlessly abandoned his grandfather. But that was before I'd met him. Now I don't think it was as simple as that."

"Nothing is ever as simple as it seems," Nancy said. "We've both heard the gossip."

"Gossip isn't fact."

"True. Have you talked to Trevor about any of this?"

Beth shook her head. "His life with Hank is off-limits. He doesn't want to talk about his childhood."

"Can't you tell him the truth? Tell him about the bequest?"

Beth shook her head again. "Hank made me promise not to tell him. Another stipulation. I probably shouldn't have told you either, but I need your advice. You have to promise not to breathe a word of this to anyone. Not even Dad."

"I won't, honey. You've known about this for how long?"

"Hank told me a couple of months before he died. Right after he gave me his book collection."

"Why couldn't he leave the money to the library free and clear?"

"I don't know," Beth said. "It would have been a lot easier if he had. How can I change Trevor's mind? I've racked my brain and come up with zilch."

Nancy shrugged. "I don't see that there's much you can do. Maybe you could make his visit so pleasant, he'll decide the ranch isn't so bad and he'll want to keep it. That's not very helpful, but it's all I can think of at the moment."

Beth nodded. "I can try to do that, I guess."

"But be careful," Nancy said. "Don't make his visit _too_ pleasant. He's extremely good looking. Staying together like that . . . It's dangerous."

Beth knew it was dangerous. Boy, did she know. She would have to keep focused on the library, the books, all the fund-raising. She'd just keep focused on everything but Trevor Callahan. She could do it, she knew she could. _Hoped_ she could.

Beth hugged her mother and kissed her cheek. "I'll be careful, Mom. I promise."

### CHAPTER FOUR

Trev walked into the Stone Soup Cafe at seven on the dot Tuesday night. The bar and grill was another new addition to Stone Creek. The interior boasted a long bar constructed of native rock and walls of rustic oak. A brightly lit jukebox played a country-western ballad. The laid-back atmosphere hummed with quiet conversation, and the smell of burgers and fries lingered in the air.

Dave motioned to Trevor from a booth near a window. Trev pushed through the throng of people and slid in on the opposite side of the table from his old school friend.

"Glad you could make it," Dave said. "Right on time as usual. What can I get you? Beer? Wine?"

"Beer's fine." Trev looked around. "Nice place. Quite a step up from the old Hole in the Wall."

"The Hole's still going strong." Dave flagged a waitress, then turned back to Trev. "Say, have you eaten? They make a mean cheeseburger here. I was about to order one."

"Sounds good." Trev hadn't eaten all day. He'd been busy replacing the screen door on the back of the house and doing other repairs and chores, trying not to think about things all the while. Like his grandfather and what might have been. Like Beth and what he wanted to do with her, to her, but couldn't.

He hadn't seen her since early this morning when she'd left for work. She'd told him she'd be a little late tonight and wouldn't be cooking dinner. Trev's mind hadn't been able to grasp what Beth was saying, because his libido had kicked into overdrive.

Instead of the casual shirt and shorts he was accustomed to seeing her in, Beth had on a light green sundress that draped her lithe figure. The filmy fabric teased his imagination. Strappy sandals on bare feet revealed pink painted toenails. She'd looked fresh and gorgeous. He'd wanted to kiss her, taste her and run his fingers under that tantalizing dress.

The waitress walked up to the table and took their orders, then brought out the beers. Trev took a pull on his longneck, shook away thoughts of Beth and waited for Dave to speak.

"Guess you're wondering what this is all about," his friend said.

Trev set his beer down. "You said something about a business proposition?"

Dave nodded. "Have you had a chance to go out to Coyote Lake yet?"

"I drove around it yesterday. Impressive."

"Yeah. It's revitalized Stone Creek and the surrounding area. The town was dying, Trev. Kids were leaving after high school. Going to college, moving to the big city, not coming back. If the dam and lake hadn't been built, Stone Creek would have dwindled into a ghost town."

Trev traced the label on his beer bottle. "And now you and your fellow council members are making Stone Creek into a resort community?"

"That's right. And it's working. The population is steadily growing. Retiring baby-boomers wanting to get away from it all are moving in. We've revamped Main Street, put in an old-fashioned movie house--hell, we even have our own radio station. And you saw the landing strip. More like a small airport with all the big hangers and long runways. Business is starting to boom."

"So, what does this have to do with me?" Trev sure as hell didn't want to move back to Stone Creek. He really didn't want anything to do with the town. All he wanted was to get rid of the ranch and get back to his life. His busy, comfortable, lonely life. _Lonely?_ Where had that come from?

"Here you go, gentlemen," said the waitress, balancing a tray above her shoulder. "Two cheeseburger baskets and two more beers. Enjoy."

Dave didn't say anything for a minute. He salted his fries and squirted ketchup on them. Trev did the same, figuring his friend would broach the subject in his own good time. He didn't have long to wait.

"I've read the stories about you," Dave said around a bite of burger. "You've made it big, buddy."

"I've done all right."

"More than all right, I'd say. I was mad as hell when you left town all those years ago. Yeah, yeah--I was going off to college, too. But I always planned to come back and make my living and my home in Stone Creek. But you--I knew you were gone for good."

"Look, Dave--"

"Let me finish. I can't say I blame you. Hank treated you like crap. Anyway, that's all water under the bridge. Now that you _are_ back--"

"Only temporarily."

Dave ignored that. "Now that you're here . . . I want to make you an offer you can't refuse," he said in his best Don Corleone voice.

Trev rolled his eyes. "Coming on a little strong with _The Godfather_ bit, aren't you?"

Dave smiled and shrugged. "Hey, with a name like Jamail, what do you expect?"

"So what's this irresistible offer?" Trev bit into his burger and crunched a French fry.

"We want to build a luxury hotel on the lake. And we want Titan Enterprises to build it for us."

"I don't know--"

"Aw, come on, Trev. This is our biggest endeavor so far. We want the best. And the best is you and Titan."

"I'm flattered," Trev said.

Dave pointed a fry at him. "Hey, we've done our research. We formed a committee and flew to Vegas to look at the hotels you built out there. We liked what we saw. And you're hometown, Trev. I know it's small potatoes to you, but it would mean a lot to the community. Think about it, will you?"

Trev saw the eagerness and enthusiasm in Dave's eyes. An enthusiasm Trev hadn't felt in a long time. "Okay, I'll think about it."

"Thanks. It's really good to see you again. I'm glad you're back."

"I'm not here to stay," Trev warned him.

"Yeah, yeah. You know what I mean."

Trev felt his stomach take an unfamiliar dip. "Remember, I'm here to sell the ranch. I'm not staying."

"I know." Dave finished eating and glanced at his watch. "Listen, I hate to eat and run, but I need to get home to Gloria and the kids. You think about what we've talked about."

He stood and so did Trev.

"While you're here, why don't you come over and meet my family?" Dave said. "Eat dinner. You could bring Beth and Maggie. Gloria and Beth know each other. They're both room mothers for the kindergarten class at the elementary school."

"Beth's a room mother?" Besides going to school, driving the bookmobile, cataloguing Hank's books and heading up the library fund? Did the woman ever slow down for even a minute? She was eagerness and enthusiasm personified.

"Uh huh. Maggie and my Shana are in the same room together," Dave said. "So what do you say about dinner one night?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that." Trev didn't think for a second that he was going to Dave's with Beth and Maggie. Although the idea of going out with Beth tempted him. He quickly squelched it. Beth was a nice girl-- _girl_ being one of the key words here. He didn't want to hurt her. Or Maggie. Trev had never dated a woman with a child before. And he'd certainly never dated a woman twelve years younger than himself.

"Well, get back to me soon," Dave said. "I'd like to see you while you're in town. Catch up on old times." He picked up the ticket and threw several dollars on the table for the tip. "Get together for something other than business, you know? I've missed you, Callahan."

"Yeah, me too. I'll call you tomorrow." Trev followed him to the cashier. Next to the register stood one of Beth's decorated tin cans. A prime example of her ambitions and desires. Suddenly, he wanted to get back to the ranch. See if she was there yet. How late was she going to stay out? And what was she doing anyway? Who was she with? And more importantly, why did he care?

****

Beth adjusted her purse strap over her shoulder and headed for the cafe's exit, adrenalin coursing through her veins. Ah, the sweet high of victory. A rush of excitement flooded her system. Her meeting with the Chamber of Commerce couldn't have gone any better. All the members had agreed to support her latest fund-raiser for the new library, and had brainstormed over dinner on how to make it happen.

Approaching the cashier, Beth stopped short when she spotted Trevor Callahan. What was he doing at the Stone Soup Cafe?

Trevor turned toward her and his gray eyes widened in surprise. Then he leveled his gaze on her, and Beth couldn't mistake the look of appreciation and attraction coming her way. Quite a contrast to the cold distance he was trying to maintain out at the ranch.

Oh man. He made her feel things she'd never felt before. Her mother was right. Beth's experience with men was practically nil. And Trevor Callahan was way out of her league. In social status, wealth and sexual expertise.

Her adrenalin buzz sputtered and died. Beth gathered the fleeting edges of her courage, summoned a smile, and walked toward the two men at the counter. Head held high, she hoped she looked more confident than she felt. "Hey, Trevor. Hey, Dave."

The lawyer looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Hey yourself, Beth. I didn't see you when I came in. What're you up to? Got a new project underway?"

"As a matter of fact I do," Beth said. "I had a meeting with the Chamber of Commerce officers, back in the banquet room. They're still sitting there discussing my idea."

Dave stepped away from the counter. "And what is this idea of yours?"

Beth tried desperately to regain control of her fluttering heart. Her enthusiasm had taken a backseat to six-feet plus of ruggedly handsome male who happened to be sexy as hell.

"Beth? You all right?" Dave looked at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. "You gonna tell us about this brilliant idea of yours? I assume it has something to do with the library?"

She cleared her throat. "Naturally. No big surprise there, right? Anyway, I thought the Memorial Day Festival would be perfect for a fund-raiser. I racked my brain trying to think of something fun and unusual, and I did it. Ever heard of donkey basketball?"

Dave scratched his chin. "Can't say that I have. How about you, Trev?"

Beth looked at Trevor. He was staring at her. Good lord, was he staring at her. Her lungs nearly stopped functioning right then and there.

Trevor nodded to Dave. "Yeah, I saw something about donkeys and basketball on a late-night sitcom a few years back. They were showing one of those old newsreels from the forties and fifties."

"That's where I saw it too," Beth said. "It's kind of like wheelchair basketball. Except people ride on donkeys."

"And they have to be on their donkey to shoot and score," Trevor added.

"Exactly." A slow steady warmth spread deep inside Beth because for once Trevor sounded interested, almost animated.

"Sounds like fun," Dave said. He nudged Trevor with his elbow. "Didn't I tell you Beth is determined to get that new library built? She'll do anything and everything to get the money needed. She has a never-ending supply of energy and ideas."

"So I've noticed."

Beth swallowed hard. The way he was looking at her made her extremely aware that he'd noticed a whole lot more than just her energy and ideas.

"How are you going to make money with this donkey basketball?" Dave wanted to know. "How does it work?"

Beth broke eye contact with Trevor and focused on Dave Jamail. "I searched the Internet and there are actually companies that provide donkeys and everything you need for the event. I thought we'd charge two hundred dollars per person for the privilege to play. Then of course, we'll charge admission and sell concessions. Maybe even T-shirts. What do you think?"

"Sign me up as your first player," Dave said. "Sign Trev up, too."

Trevor frowned at him. "I don't think so."

Dave slapped him on the shoulder. "Trev here never was one for team athletics. He's always preferred golf and tennis."

She could see Trevor didn't want to play and she certainly didn't want him to feel pressured into anything. Because in the long run, Beth wanted a whole lot more from Trevor Callahan than two hundred dollars. "Dave, he doesn't have to--"

"But this is for a good cause. Right, buddy?" He slapped Trevor's shoulder again. "You'll be in town for Memorial Day. It's only two weeks away. Come on, Trev. How can you refuse this pretty lady?"

After a slight pause, Trevor said, "What the hell, sign me up."

"Are you sure?" Beth asked. Why had he suddenly changed his mind? He obviously didn't want to play donkey basketball. Maybe he thought it was beneath his dignity.

"I'm sure. So, your meeting's over? You're on your way back to the ranch?"

"I have to pick Mags up from Mom's first."

"I'll walk you to your car," Trevor said.

"There's no need." Beth started to back away. For some reason, she didn't want Trevor to touch her. Not here. Not in public. The way he was looking at her, Beth wasn't sure how she would respond. She'd probably melt into a limp puddle of hormones and embarrass herself.

Dave took her elbow. "We'll both walk you out. Got an idea of my own I want to run by you."

"You do?" Beth forced herself to concentrate on Dave, instead of the man walking close on her right. Trevor Callahan radiated a scorching heat that shot straight down to her toes.

"I invited Trev over for dinner and I want you and Maggie to come, too."

"Really? That sounds nice." Beth peeked sideways at Trevor. His black brows slanted in a frown. He obviously didn't think it was nice.

"I told you I'd get back to you on that," Trev said to Dave.

"Hey buddy, I'm not letting you leave town without coming over and meeting my family." Dave stopped near Beth's neon orange Jeep. "Did Trev tell you we were best friends in school?"

Trevor shook his head. "Dave--"

Beth couldn't identify the emotion in Trevor's voice. The man hid his feelings well. He had a lot of issues concerning his childhood. And maybe not all of them centered on his grandfather.

Beth fished in her purse for her keys. "Trevor and I haven't had much time to visit. We've both been busy." Busy trying to ignore the electricity sizzling between them. They didn't talk much, only when necessary. Like this morning. Neither had mentioned they would be dining at the Stone Soup Cafe. Then again, neither owed the other any kind of explanation concerning their whereabouts.

She finally found her keys in the bottom of her bag. "Nice seeing you, Dave. I really need to go get Mags. She runs circles around Mom."

Dave smiled. "Try to talk this fellow into coming and visiting his old friend, will you? Hope to see you both soon. And not just to read Hank's will, either." He shook Trevor's hand and waved to Beth before heading for his car.

The light was fading fast; it was past eight o'clock. There shouldn't have been any awkwardness, but it hung there between them. Or maybe it wasn't awkwardness. Beth's head buzzed and her knees nearly gave way when she saw the hot, hungry look in Trevor's eyes. She needed to get away before she did something foolish like throw herself in his arms and beg for a kiss.

Trevor opened the door of her jeep. "I'll see you back at the ranch."

She climbed in and shivered when she encountered that hungry look again. "Yeah, back at the ranch."

****

Two afternoons later, Beth sat on the floor of Hank's study with her laptop, poring over a spreadsheet, calculating the latest totals in the library fund. She'd had an exam earlier that morning and wasn't scheduled to work that day. Perfect for catching up on things.

A noise at the door jerked her away from her columns and figures. "Hey, Mags. What's up?"

"Aren't you finished yet, Mommy? You told me we could go fishing and have a picnic today." There was just the right amount of whine and sorrow in her little girl's voice to make Beth feel guilty. Oh, the joys of motherhood.

"Mags, I need to check these numbers. You know I have a lot going on right now. Why don't you work on sorting the books?"

"I'm tired of sorting books. I'm tired of working inside. The sun's shining and the fish will be biting. And I'm hungry for catfish. You _said_ we could go."

Beth glanced from the screen of her laptop to Mags, who stood dejectedly in the middle of the room holding two fishing poles. Her baby was growing up. She wouldn't always want to do things with her mother. And how would Beth feel then?

"All right, pumpkin. Go get the picnic blanket and I'll make sandwiches."

"Yippy!" Maggie ran from the room, banging the poles against the doorframe on her way out.

Beth closed the spreadsheet and saved the file. She could work the numbers and check the totals this evening. And she could use the quiet time at the pond to figure out a way to make Trevor change his mind about selling the ranch. So far, she didn't have a clue what she was going to do.

Twenty minutes later, Beth and Maggie were sitting on the pier, fishing poles in hand, lines submerged, basking in the warm May sunshine. The brilliant sky formed a blue dome as far as the eye could see. Billowy clouds floated above. Mesquite trees rustled in the breeze and a hawk soared overhead.

A perfect spring day. Life was good. Couldn't get much better than this. Mags sat close by on the edge of the pier wearing a bright orange life jacket, toes dangling in the water. She'd worn her bathing suit "just in case." She'd insisted Beth wear hers, too. Time to start on their summer tans, Mags had told her. Good grief, her daughter sounded like a Valley Girl. Beth smiled. Mags was something else--an interesting combination of maturity and childishness. Right now, she was happy as a lark watching her cork bob over the ripples in the pond. Her daughter loved to fish almost better than she loved to read.

Yeah, life was good. She and Mags had settled into a nice routine with Mags in school and Beth driving the bookmobile. It hadn't always been that way. But you'd never know it, looking at Mags today.

"Mommy! Mommy! I have a bite!" Maggie jumped up, pulled her rod to set the hook, then started reeling in the line.

"Slow down, baby. Don't want to lose him."

"I know, I know. Get the net, quick!"

Beth set her rod down and grabbed the dip net. "Easy now. Give him a little slack. You need help?" She stood by Mags and watched the fish fight and splash the water.

"No, I've got him." Mags grunted with the effort of pulling in the line. "Man, he's huge!"

"A monster for sure," Beth said, ready with the net.

"Mommy, look! Your cork's gone down! You've got a bite, too."

Beth's rod jerked forward. She dropped the net and lunged for her pole, barely catching it before it slid over the edge of the pier and into the pond.

"Mommy! Help me!" Maggie reared back tugging hard, her little hands turning the reel.

"Hang on, baby." Beth had her hands full with her own rod and reel.

"I can't hang on!" Maggie sounded panicky. "I'm going to lose my fish."

"Hold on tight, Maggie. I'm coming," a deep voice boomed from the edge of the pond.

"Trevor! Oh, Trevor! Please help me!" Maggie called.

Beth looked over her shoulder as Trevor stepped onto the pier, his cowboy boots thumping solidly on the wooden planks, his weight tilting the floating platform. Relief and a tingling sensation skittered down her backbone when he closed the distance between them.

"What are you doing out here?" Beth asked, dragging her eyes away from his gorgeous body. No one should look that good in faded denim, a sweaty T-shirt and black Stetson.

"I was walking and heard voices. Thought I'd come see what all the fuss was about. Haven't been out this way since I've been back. This pier looks new."

"Hank had it built before he died."

"Trevor, help!" Maggie called again.

"I'm coming." He stooped to pick up the dip net and shot Beth a glance, eyeing her bikini with an arched brow. Suddenly, Beth felt naked, hot and exposed. Why had she let Mags talk her into wearing her swimsuit? Her line tightened and the reel buzzed. The fiberglass rod bowed under the weight of the fish on her hook forcing her concentration back to the water.

"You got things under control there?" Trevor asked her.

_Not really_. "Of course. Go help Mags."

He turned away, but not before Beth saw the awareness flash in his gray eyes, turning them silver. Oh, lord.

"Trevor! I need the net _now_ ," Maggie cried.

"Coming right up." He held the net just as Maggie pulled in her catch.

Trevor scooped and lifted the struggling catfish from the water. "He's a beauty. Must weigh at least five pounds. I'm impressed. Where'd you learn to fish like that?"

"Poppy taught me."

"Hank taught you to fish?" he asked with a frown.

"Yeah, last year when I was four." Maggie set down her pole and looked at the wriggling fish in the net. "Mommy'll have to take the hook out. I can't do it yet. Why do you call your grandpa by his first name?"

"Mags! I could use some help here," Beth said hurriedly. She was going to have to talk to her little girl about asking personal questions all the time. Although, Beth would like to know the answer to that particular question, too.

"Hurry, Trevor." Maggie picked up a white plastic bucket and held it up to him. "Here, fill this with water."

"Yes, ma'am." He crouched low and dipped the bucket in the pond. "I suppose we put the fish in now?"

"Yes, silly. Don't you know?"

"Nope. I don't fish."

"Poppy didn't teach you when you were a little boy?"

Beth cringed at Maggie's question. Trevor's hesitation and tension was almost palpable in the warm spring air.

"I'm afraid not," he said.

"I'll teach you if you want."

Beth held her breath waiting for Trevor's reply. So far, he'd treated Mags pretty well. But he wasn't used to children. And this was probably a sore spot with him.

"All right. I'd like that."

"Great," Maggie said. "First, you have to--"

"Hello?" Beth said, still battling her fish. "I need the net over here."

"Trevor, Mommy needs you."

Beth swallowed hard when those silver eyes locked on her.

"The net, Trevor! What's the matter with you guys?" Maggie asked. "Mommy's going to lose her fish. Sheesh. I really am going to have to teach you about fishing, aren't I?"

Trev dumped Maggie's fish, still attached to her line, into the bucket. When he turned to Beth, he nearly dropped the net. The half-naked woman stood on the edge of the pier, legs braced, arms taut as she fought the fish on her line. She was every man's fantasy come to life. Or maybe, she was just his fantasy.

The tiny yellow-striped bikini barely covered her enticing curves. The bottom piece rode low on her hips, emphasizing her flat stomach and long shapely legs. The top tenderly cupped her pretty breasts. Trev gripped the handle of the net tightly.

When Beth lunged forward with the movement of the fish, he caught a hint of nipple as the bikini bra gaped open. His blood pounded in his throat.

"What are you waiting for?" Maggie said. "Mommy _needs_ you, Trevor!"

He wished. What he needed was to harness his libido and get it under control. He was thinking way too many erotic thoughts about Beth.

"The net, Trevor! The net!" Maggie rushed to her mother's side and grabbed hold of the rod to help pull in the fish.

"Thanks, baby."

Trevor stood close by while mother and daughter struggled to haul in a nice-sized catfish. Beth smelled like strawberries and coconut, shampoo and sun block. Her long curly hair was caught up in a ponytail on top of her head. When she bent to drop the fish in the net he was holding, the silky mane brushed the tops of Trev's arms and heat rushed to his groin. _Oh man._

Beth and Maggie squatted around the net and he crouched low so they could all look at the fish.

"Yours is bigger than mine," Maggie said.

"Yes, but you helped pull him in. I would have lost him without you."

"So we both caught it."

"Together," Beth said with a smile.

"Yeah. We make a good team, don't we, Mommy?"

Beth hugged her little girl. "A most excellent team, baby."

Maggie stood up and looped her arm around Trev's neck. "Trevor helped, too."

Aw, hell.

He caught Beth's green eyes on him and her daughter. Not for the first time, he wondered what it would feel like to belong to a family. His memories of his parents were dim, but he remembered the happiness, contentment and security. He hadn't felt that in a long time.

"Yes, Trevor helped, too." Beth's voice was soft and warm, matching the look in her eyes.

Maggie moved away from Trev, placing her little hands on her knees and stooping over the net. "Get the hook out, Mommy, so I can teach Trevor how to catch his own fish."

Carefully, Beth grasped one fish behind the fins. It wiggled and squirmed as she tried to remove the hook from its mouth. It gave a powerful jerk, and she lost hold, stumbling backwards.

"Watch out!" Trevor dropped the net and caught her against him. For one long moment, his arms were filled with soft warm woman. Her white skin, dusted with light freckles, felt smooth under his callused fingers. Her bare body was jammed flush against his groin. Desire slammed into him. She turned her head a fraction of an inch until their mouths were only millimeters apart.

Beth looked at his lips and her eyes flew to his. She tried to stand, but his hands held her tight for one moment longer. She felt good in his arms. Really good. He didn't want to let go. But he had to and helped her to her feet. "You okay?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Mommy, the hook's still in its mouth."

"Here, I'll do it." Trev bent down next to Maggie.

"Do you know how?" the little girl asked.

"It can't be that hard." He looked at the flopping fish. If Beth could hold that sucker with her slender fingers, surely he could, too.

"It can be tricky with a catfish," Beth said, squatting next to him. "Here, I'll show you." She slowly wrapped her hand below the head and pulled out the hook. "Watch out for the fins. They're sharp."

She dropped the fish in the bucket and grabbed Maggie's fish, still on the line and still wriggling. "You want to take a stab at it?"

Trev wanted to stab something and it wasn't the fish. "Sure, I'll give it a try."

"Be careful, Trevor," Maggie said, eyes wide.

He gingerly took hold of the fish and after several abortive attempts, finally managed to extract the hook.

"You did it!" Maggie hopped up and down, clapping her hands.

"Just like a pro," Beth said with a smile that nearly blinded him.

"I wouldn't say that." Trev dropped the catfish back into the bucket, absurdly pleased with himself and their compliments.

"I'm hot," Maggie said. "Can I swim?"

"I thought you were going to show Trevor how to fish."

"After I cool off. Swim with me, please?"

"I don't think so, baby." Beth grabbed a large T-shirt.

"Don't put that on," Maggie cried. "Let's go swimming. Aren't you hot?"

Beth shot a look at Trevor, pink staining her cheeks. Oh, yeah. She was hot, he thought. And adorable. He winked at her. The blush deepened.

"Come on, Mommy. Please?"

"Okay." She dropped the shirt. "Just for a little while. Then we'll eat."

"Can Trevor eat our picnic lunch with us?"

Beth turned to him, her brow raised in question.

"Tuna again?" he asked.

She lifted her chin. "No, we have bologna today."

Damn, she was cute. "Even better."

She smiled and turned away. "Okay, Mags. Last one in the water is a rotten egg."

Beth ran to the edge of the pier, threw Trev a wicked look, then tucked her arms around her knees and cannonballed into the water. Maggie giggled and followed her in.

They came up sputtering and splashing. "Mags! It's freezing!"

"No, it isn't. It feels great. You should've worn a bathing suit, Trevor," Maggie called from the water. "You look hot."

He felt hot. And not just from the sun. "Maybe next time."

Trev spent the rest of the afternoon learning how to fish, tutored by the kid. He shared their picnic lunch and watched Maggie swim again. And tried not to stare at her beautiful mother. Even after Beth slipped the T-shirt over her swimsuit, Trev had a hard time keeping his eyes from straying her way. She was getting under his skin; that was for sure. He wondered what, if anything, he was going to do about it.

### CHAPTER FIVE

"Maggie, what are you doing down here?" Trev stood in the dimly lit kitchen. It was past eleven. The kid should be asleep. She and her mother had gone upstairs hours ago. He'd heard bath water running and the quiet hush of voices getting ready for the night. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I got hungry. Fishing and swimming does that to me." The little girl sat at the table, intent on constructing some kind of sandwich. The bread bag gaped open, a plastic leftover container perched precariously on the edge of the table and milk dripped on the floor.

Trev opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. He looked over his shoulder at Maggie, changed his mind and snagged a grape soda instead. "Don't tell me that's a spaghetti sandwich you're making." He sat down, pushed the leftover container toward the center of the table and blotted the milk with a napkin. The kid was messy. Cute, but messy.

Maggie nodded. "My favorite. Besides peanut butter and pickles, that is."

"Peanut butter and pickles?" He popped the top of the soda can. "I don't want to know."

"It sounds weird, but it's delicious. You should try it."

"I think I'll pass."

Maggie shrugged. "Don't know what you're missing till you've tried it." She lifted her spaghetti sandwich toward him. "Wanna bite? It's good."

"No, you go right ahead." He took a drink of soda. The house was quiet, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the kitchen. Plus the kid smacking on her sandwich.

"Mommy says you're going to sell Poppy's ranch. Are you?"

"That's the reason I came back." The only reason. Twenty years ago when he left Stone Creek, he'd promised himself never to set foot in this place again. At seventeen, Trev hadn't counted on his grandfather dying. Hadn't counted on having to settle the old man's estate. Hadn't counted on ever coming back.

"You can't sell the ranch," Maggie said. "I don't want you to. Poppy wouldn't like it if you sold his ranch."

"Well, he's not here anymore." Thank goodness. Trev tossed back another swig of soda.

"I bet he's looking down from heaven." Maggie chewed her food thoughtfully, then raised those big blue eyes at Trevor. "You think he's looking down from heaven?"

Trev swallowed wrong and choked. He sure as hell didn't think the old man was in heaven. But he couldn't say that to this innocent little girl.

Maggie hopped down from her chair and pounded him on the back. "Lift your arms! That's what Mommy says when I get choked. Lift your arms high!" She pounded some more.

"Thanks. I'm better now."

Maggie climbed back on her chair. "You don't like to talk about Poppy much. Why?" She crammed the last of her sandwich in her mouth and stared at him as she chewed.

Christ, he didn't need this. "Don't you think it's time to go back to bed?"

She wiped her mouth on a napkin. "I guess. Will you give me a piggyback ride? _Please_?"

"Will you quit asking so many questions?" The kid was adorable. Just like her mother. Only different. Way different. Images of Beth in her barely-there bikini still made him hard. He couldn't quit thinking about her in that bathing suit.

Maggie scrunched her button nose at him. "Are you 'gotiating with me?"

Trev shook away the images of Maggie's sexy mother in his overheated brain. "You could say that."

"You don't want to talk about Poppy, do you?"

_Aw, hell_. "No, I don't."

"Why not?" She plopped her elbows on the table, cupped her chin with her hands and settled in for a heart-to-heart talk. Something Trev sure didn't want to take part in. Especially with a five-year-old kid.

"Talking about Hank makes me sad," he said. And angry. Confused. Guilty as sin.

"Oh," she reached out and patted his arm. "Okay, no more questions. And I won't ask why you call him Hank. I don't want you to be sad. I'm ready for that piggyback ride now."

"We need to clean up your mess first." The touch of Maggie's sticky little hand on his arm squeezed something tight around Trev's chest. He needed to be careful here. Careful around her mother, too.

Maggie sighed. "I hate cleaning up messes. 'Specially mine. Will you do it for me? Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"You want that piggyback ride?"

She frowned. "We 'gotiating again?"

"Yes."

She picked up her plate and took it to the sink, while Trev cleared off the rest of the table.

"You got any kids?" she asked.

"No, why?" He put the spaghetti back in the fridge and wondered where she was heading now. Maggie's conversations tended to twist and turn with alarming frequency.

"'Cause you'd make a good daddy. What with knowing how to 'gotiate and all."

The band squeezed tighter around his chest. Trev had never thought about children. Probably because he never thought about getting married.

He felt a tug on his T-shirt and looked down. Maggie smiled at him. "Can I have that piggyback ride now?"

"Sure thing." He'd never given a child a piggyback ride that he could remember. How to go about it? He crouched down to the little girl's level. "Hop on, kiddo."

Maggie jumped on his back and looped her tiny arms around his neck. She tried to wrap her legs around his waist, and Trev reached behind and secured her with his hands.

"Ready?" he asked over his shoulder. The little girl smelled like fresh soap and sunshine, with a hint of spaghetti thrown in. She was soft and warm, her arms hugging him trustingly. The band tightened more painfully around his chest.

Maggie giggled and rocked against him. "Giddy-up, horsey."

"Hold on then." He adjusted her weight, flipped off the lights and took off down the hall.

She shrieked with delight.

"Shhh. Don't want to wake your mom."

"Oh, right," she whispered.

They turned the corner and started up the flight of stairs.

"Faster! Go fast!" Maggie said softly in his ear.

Trev took the stairs two at a time, felt the little girl bury her mouth in his shoulder to stifle her giggles. Something warm burned near his cold heart.

He hurried to her bedroom and deposited her on the bed. Maggie scrambled off, grabbed a book and thrust it at him.

"Read me a story. Pretty please?"

The kid was a charmer. An accomplished manipulator, too. "I thought you could read yourself."

"I can, but it's not the same."

"It's late--"

"I'm not sleepy." Maggie pushed the book at him. "Pretty please?"

Trev looked down at the blond angel with the beseeching blue eyes. Damn. He was putty in her sticky little hands. Where the hell was his backbone? Taken a hike where this five-year-old kid was concerned, that was for sure.

"Pretty, pretty please, Trevor?"

He took the book from her and tried to look stern. "One story. Only one, then it's lights out and no fussing. Promise me."

Maggie blinked at him. "Wow, you're good at 'gotiating. Too good. I promise to go to sleep after the story." She climbed into bed, hauled the covers over her pink pajamas and smiled at him. "Could you hand me Mr. Bigs, please?"

"Mr. Bigs?"

"My stuffed bunny. He's on the floor. I like to sleep with him."

Trev picked up the bedraggled rabbit with long floppy ears and handed it to Maggie, then he sat by the bed and began reading a story about a lost baby turtle. Who would believe Trevor Callahan--owner of Titan Enterprises, a company respected all over the world, a man who never budged at the bargaining table--who would believe he'd been brought to his knees by a five-year-old kid? He hoped like hell no one ever found out.

"Margaret Lynn! What's going on here? Why aren't you asleep?"

_Aw, hell. Someone had found out_. Trev lowered the book and looked toward the door. The someone was dressed in a skimpy nightshirt with tousled hair and sleepy green eyes.

Maggie slinked lower under the bedcovers. "Huh oh. Busted."

His thoughts exactly. Well, not exactly. His thoughts were running south with a vengeance. The woman was sexy as all get out.

Beth stepped into the room, looking from Trevor to her daughter, then back to Trevor.

He stood and laid the book on the chair. "I found her in the kitchen eating a midnight snack."

"Yeah, Mommy. Then he piggybacked me up the stairs and I promised to go right to sleep after he reads me a story."

Beth's eyes widened in surprise.

"I know," he said. "I can't believe it either."

"Can he finish the story?" Maggie asked.

"Absolutely not. It's way past your bedtime, young lady." Beth hurried to the bed and tucked Maggie in. She bent to kiss her daughter.

"I want a hug!" Maggie said.

Beth gathered the little girl in her arms, but Maggie squirmed away. "Not from you. I want a hug from him." She pointed to Trevor.

Beth raised startled eyes at him, then looked back at her daughter. "Mags, I don't think--"

"Please, Trevor?" She lifted her arms wide.

How could he resist? He was heading into uncharted territory and it scared the hell out of him. Beth stood by the bed, her gaze locked on him. What did she think he was going to do? Reject her daughter? Hurt the little kid? He was bad, but not that bad.

"You betcha, kiddo." Trev moved beside Beth, catching a whiff of her scent that rocketed him into a totally familiar, yet different territory. Oh, yeah. He was bad. Bending down, he hugged the little girl, felt the tiny arms wrap around his neck. "See you in the morning. Sleep tight--"

"Don't let the bedbugs bite." Maggie finished the nighttime saying. She pulled back and frowned. "What 'zactly is a bedbug?"

Beth tucked the sheet around her. "Mags, I'll explain tomorrow. It's time to go to sleep now."

Trev left the room, but lingered in the hall. He still had a clear view of Maggie and her mom. The scene brought back memories of his own mother. Those faded memories of happier times as a child had been buried deep down, almost obliterated by the harsh reality of living with his grandfather.

He watched Beth kiss her daughter and turn off the lights. She backed out of the room and closed the door. When she turned around, she bumped into Trevor.

"Sorry," she said softly as he caught her. Beth's shoulders felt firm and warm beneath the oversized T-shirt. He could see her nipples thrusting against the thin fabric. For the second time that day, Trev tightened his grip on soft woman-flesh before he released his hold.

Beth stepped away and brushed her hair from her face. "Thanks for looking after Mags," she said in a hushed voice. "I know you didn't expect to baby-sit a five-year-old when you asked us to stay here." She bit her lower lip. Trev wanted to bite and suck that luscious lip himself.

He cleared his throat. "Hey, no problem. I like Maggie. She's a neat kid." Who had a neat mother. Although, Beth didn't look too neat right now. She looked rumpled and sleepy, and Trev wanted to push her against the wall, run his fingers through all that wild hair and kiss her until she whimpered with need.

What the hell was the matter with him? He had nothing to offer a woman like Beth except a good time in bed. She was too fresh and innocent and honest for the likes of him.

Beth moistened her tongue over her lips. Trev's gut clenched. She was killing him. "Well," she cleared her throat. "I'll go back to bed now." Her husky voice floated over him like a caress.

_I'll go with you_. "See you in the morning," he said.

She nodded and walked down the hall to her room. At the door, Beth looked back at him and smiled a shy smile.

Aw, hell!

****

Late Friday afternoon, Beth answered the front door to a woman in a business suit holding a briefcase. What in the world?

"Hello, I'm here to see a Mr. Trevor Callahan."

Beth opened the screen door and stepped out on the porch. "Beth Evans." She stuck out her hand, wondering what this woman wanted with Trevor. This beautiful, sophisticated, older woman. Beth recognized the sting of jealousy and envy. Good grief.

"Angela Dreumont," said the woman, taking Beth's hand in a quick business-like shake. "I'm a realtor. I have an appointment with Mr. Callahan."

The realtor. Beth took a deep breath. "He's not here right now. He had to run to town, but he should be back any minute."

"All right. I'll take a look around the place, if that's okay?"

No, it wasn't okay. "Sure." Beth had no intention of letting Trevor sell the ranch. She didn't know yet how she was going to prevent him from doing it, but something would come to her.

The crunch of tires on gravel made both women turn toward the road. Trevor's truck barreled to a stop in front of the house. He climbed out and Beth's breath stalled in her lungs.

The man looked good. Too good, with those long muscled legs encased in faded black denim and broad shoulders stretching the seams of a black polo shirt. Boots, aviator sunglasses and a Stetson completed the picture. A picture that gave Beth heart palpitations.

Trevor stepped onto the front porch and pulled off his sunglasses. "Sorry I'm late," he said to the realtor.

"No problem, Mr. Callahan. I haven't been waiting long. I was telling Ms. Evans I want to look around the property. Take some measurements of the house. See what needs to be done to enhance the salability of the place."

"Excellent. I'll give you the tour." Trevor handed Beth a plastic grocery bag. "I found asparagus, but no portabellas. Regular mushrooms will have to do."

"Thanks. I'll let you two get on with your business." Beth went back in the house and put the produce in the fridge. Trevor had offered to make dinner tonight, to help celebrate the end of school and exam week. His offer had surprised her, especially since he'd said he never offered to help anyone unless there was something in it for him.

Beth narrowed her eyes as she closed the refrigerator door. She hoped Trevor didn't expect some kind of payback or favor for cooking dinner. Did he think something was in it for him? Did she want there to be?

Whenever they were together, the air crackled and hummed. Beth felt like she was playing with fire. Something about Trevor called to her. His childhood with his grandfather had marked him. He was a tortured soul, and Beth wanted to help him.

Beth decided to tag along on the tour. Maybe she could pick up some information that would help her keep Trevor from selling the ranch. It had absolutely nothing to do with the gorgeous woman making goo-goo eyes at Trevor. Nothing at all. Although she didn't like the way Angela Dreumont had licked her ruby red lips at Trevor a minute ago.

When Beth joined them in the yard, Trevor raised a brow but didn't say a word.

Angela hesitated a moment, threw Beth an assessing look, then resumed her spiel. "The soffits need replacing. A coat of paint would help, too."

Trevor frowned. "I can't understand why Hank let the outside of the house run down like this. He spared no expense on the inside. And it's not like he didn't have the money to hire help."

Beth spoke up. "He was planning to continue the renovations, but fell sick. He had that stroke, you know. The house sank to the bottom of his priority list. He focused all his energy on his rehabilitation."

The furrows between Trevor's brows deepened. "Hank had a stroke? When?"

"Six months before he passed away."

"I didn't know."

"Well, he did," Beth said.

Angela cleared her throat. "Shall we take a look at the barns and outbuildings?"

Trevor nodded and led the way. "How long before I can expect to find a buyer for the place?"

"Not long. In the past few years, Stone Creek has been building and drawing people in. With the property so close to town, you shouldn't have any trouble selling. Land is needed for new houses for the resort community. Or someone might want to open a deer lease or dude ranch, cash in on the resort theme. Two thousand acres in this prime location will go fast and at a premium price."

"Dude ranch?" Beth asked. "New houses like in a neighborhood? Hank would turn over in his grave if something like that happened to the ranch." Smooth Beth, real smooth. Trevor wouldn't care about his grandfather's feelings.

Trevor turned to her. "Don't you have books to sort? Don't you need to check on Maggie?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" she asked sweetly.

Something in his eyes made Beth's blood hum in her veins.

"How perceptive of you," he said.

The back door slammed and Maggie ran toward them.

"Hey, what are y'all doing out here?" she asked. "And who is she?" Maggie stared at the realtor.

Beth took hold of her daughter's hand. "She's going to help Trevor sell the ranch."

Maggie jerked away and scowled. She stomped a foot in the dirt. "I don't want him to sell the ranch!"

"Mags."

"Please don't sell the ranch, Trevor." Maggie scrunched her face, her bottom lip quivering. "Pretty please?"

The look on Trevor's handsome face nearly broke Beth's heart. The man might claim he had no feelings, but he felt something for Maggie. He was obviously torn by both her plea and his need to get rid of the ranch and its memories of his grandfather.

"I'm sorry," Beth said. "This isn't really any of our business." She picked up her daughter and carried her back to the house, Maggie crying and squirming all the way. "Mags, hush."

"He can't sell the ranch! He can't!"

"Yes, baby. He can. It's his and he can do anything he wants with it." Beth glanced over her shoulder. Trevor stood staring after them. Angela said something and he nodded. One more look their way and he led the realtor to the barn.

For the first time since Hank had promised the money for the library, Beth had real doubts about influencing Trevor's decision concerning the ranch. She'd had doubts before, but always thought she'd think of a way. But what could she possibly do to convince him to keep it? He was a shrewd businessman, the CEO of a thriving international construction company. She didn't have a snowflake's chance in hell of changing his mind. How could she have ever thought otherwise?

****

Trevor chopped mushrooms with a vengeance. He set them in a bowl next to the diced onions and garlic. He rarely cooked, rarely had the time and with a well-paid staff, there really wasn't a need. He enjoyed cooking though. It soothed and relaxed him. Relieved stress and worries. Gave him time to think. Or not.

Man, was he thinking now. Thinking about what a mess everything was. He'd come to Stone Creek to get rid of the Rocking C Ranch and exorcise the last hold his grandfather held over him. Simple, right?

Wrong. So wrong.

Trev hadn't counted on Beth or her daughter interfering with things. Somehow they confused the issue. With them staying at the ranch, he was seeing it differently. Seeing himself differently. Wanting things differently.

But that was nonsense. His life was exactly the way he wanted it. He didn't need the ranch. Didn't want the ranch.

Trev mixed chicken broth and vermouth in a Pyrex bowl, stuck it in the microwave and zapped it. He dribbled olive oil in a saucepan, added the onions and garlic and stirred until they sizzled. He dumped a cup of rice in the pan, added the broth, and let it simmer.

So why all of a sudden did it feel wrong to sell the ranch? Couldn't have something to do with Beth and Maggie, could it?

The kid was mad at him. She hadn't talked to him since her mother had carried her screaming and crying into the house, leaving Trev with Angela. The barracuda. The realtor had come on to him the second they were alone. He was used to women coming on to him. It usually worked to his advantage. But not today. Today, it had annoyed him. All he could think about was getting rid of Angela and rejoining Beth in the house.

Trev stirred the rice mixture and added more broth. He wanted Beth. What red-blooded male wouldn't? And Trev usually took what he wanted. From life. From women. But Beth was different. He wanted her in the physical sense--desired her, lusted for her--but there was more to it than that. He didn't want it to be more. Loving someone meant caring. He didn't want to care.

Trev grabbed the asparagus from the fridge and washed it at the sink, snapping off the tough ends from the tender shoots.

"Mmmm. Something smells good," Beth said from behind him.

His hands froze under the faucet and his body went on alert. He hadn't heard Beth come into the kitchen. He turned off the water and faced her.

She stood by the stove sniffing the pan. "What is this? It smells heavenly."

"What?" His brain shut down and his body revved up. She'd changed clothes. Slipped on a long gauzy skirt and a peasant blouse. No shoes. Her painted toes peeked out from beneath the hem of her skirt. Trev wanted to kiss those toes. He wanted to push that skirt up and kiss the smooth thighs--

"What are you cooking?" she asked.

Damn, her husky voice kindled a flame deep inside him. Trev closed the space between them and added the asparagus to the pan. "It's risotto with mushrooms."

Beth stepped back. "It smells wonderful."

"It is."

"Can I do anything for you?"

_Oh yeah_. "You could get the bread ready while I make the salad."

She flashed him a smile. "I can do that."

Trev ripped lettuce into a big bowl, throwing in tomatoes and cucumbers and tried to ignore the woman working beside him. He needed to clamp down on his libido fast. "Where's Maggie?"

"She's up in her room. Pouting, I'm afraid." Beth placed the loaf of French bread on a cookie sheet.

"She still angry with me?" He didn't like the kid mad at him, didn't like the way that made him feel.

Beth walked to the oven and put the bread in. "Yes, she is. Sorry about that."

"Why doesn't she want me to sell the ranch?" Trev asked. "She's only a kid. Why should it matter to her?"

Beth closed the oven door and faced him with hands on hips. "Hey now, just because she's a child doesn't mean she doesn't have strong feelings about things."

"But it's not like it's her home or anything." Trev tossed the salad, trying not to think about wanting to put his hands on Beth's hips. Or her breasts. Or her flat stomach. Hell, he wanted to put his hands all over her beautiful body.

"She loved Hank," Beth said. "Mags has a lot of good memories here."

"Unlike me." He mixed olive oil and balsamic vinegar in a cruet, then added spices and herbs. He hadn't loved Hank and Hank sure as hell hadn't loved him.

"Yeah. Unlike you," she said softly. "You know something? Hank truly regretted the way he treated you. He tried to tell you. Tried to make amends. But you never returned his calls or answered his letters. You never gave him a chance."

"He had his chance. Ten years of chances. You don't know what it was like. You don't want to know."

Beth stepped closer and laid her hand on his arm. "I do want to know. If you feel like you can tell me."

Trevor looked at her hand. She offered comfort, but her touch burned. He looked into her eyes. That was a mistake. Worry, concern, compassion showed in the green depths. No one had ever looked at him like that before.

"I don't want to talk about it." He moved to the stove and added more broth to the simmering rice. He stood there stirring the mixture, battling emotions he'd fought for over twenty years.

"Tell me one thing." That soft voice was doing a number on him. Physically, as well as emotionally.

"What's that?" he said over his shoulder.

"Hank didn't beat you, did he?"

"No. Nothing more than a spanking now and again. But there are many ways to hurt a child other than physically. Ways that can influence a person for life." Now why the hell had he told Beth that?

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's not your fault."

"I know that. I'm just sorry Hank treated you badly. No child should have to suffer like that."

Trev shrugged. "It was a long time ago. I don't like to think about it." Beth was close beside him again. He could smell her. Strawberries and her own sweet fragrance, which was slowly driving him crazy. He inhaled deeply.

"Can I have a taste?" When she leaned toward the pan, her shoulder brushed his arm. The top of the peasant blouse fell open to reveal lace-covered breasts.

Trev swallowed hard. Beth Evans was dangerous. Her questions and concern unmanned him. Tempted him to feel things he'd blocked from his mind. Her beautiful body just plain tempted him.

She looked up and smiled. "Can I taste it?"

"Sure." Trev scooped a bit of rice on the wooden spoon and blew. He offered the bite to her, holding his hand beneath the spoon to prevent a spill. "Careful, it's hot."

Beth took the bite. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Oh my God. It's fabulous. Tastes even better than it smells."

Trev swallowed again. He couldn't drag his eyes from her lips. He'd bet a million dollars she tasted better than she smelled, too.

She opened her eyes and caught him staring at her. Her cheeks turned pink, but she didn't move away. They stood only inches from each other. Trevor held the spoon suspended above the pan. He leaned nearer. He had to kiss her.

Awareness flared in Beth's green eyes and her breath hitched, but she didn't pull back. He closed the distance between them, brushed his mouth over her lips and nearly groaned out loud when she opened for him. He moved closer, pressed harder and explored her sweetness with his tongue. Damn, she did taste better than she smelled. A whole lot better.

Trev dropped the spoon and cupped Beth's cheeks, rubbing his thumbs along her jaw line. He angled his head for better access, nibbled her bottom lip, then dove back in to her moist warmth.

A sexy little moan erupted in the back of Beth's throat, and a jolt of yearning sliced through him. When she laid a hand on his chest and clutched his shirt, fire burned in his veins. He wanted to run his hands all over Beth's body. He wanted her naked . . . He wanted . . .

"Mommy! Trevor! What are you doing?"

### CHAPTER SIX

Beth jerked away from Trevor the minute she heard Maggie's indignant little voice from the doorway. Trevor straightened and turned back to the simmering pan on the stove, picked up the spoon and stirred the rice. He glanced Beth's way and winked.

The flutter in her stomach intensified. The man was too sexy for his own good. Too sexy for _her_ own good. Blood pounded in her head. For days, she'd wondered about kissing Trevor. Alone in bed at night, she replayed in her mind every instance when he'd touched her. On the porch, when she almost dropped the books. On the pier, when she lost her balance. In the hallway, when she backed into him. How many times had she imagined what it would feel like if he took her in his arms?

Well okay, he hadn't actually taken her in his arms, but now she knew how it felt to kiss him.

_Unbelievably awesome, that's how_. Good grief, she needed to be careful.

Trevor seemed unfazed by the interruption. A closer look showed his muscular chest rising and falling more rapidly than normal. Like he was having trouble with his breathing. Good. She didn't want to be the only one shaken by the encounter.

Maggie crossed her arms and frowned. "Mommy? Why were you kissing Trevor? I thought we were mad at him 'cause he's selling Poppy's ranch."

Beth thought Trevor flinched, but couldn't be sure. "Let's get you washed for dinner." She grabbed her daughter's hand and hauled her toward the bathroom.

"But Mommy, I want to know why you were kissing him."

"Hush, Mags. Sometimes grownups kiss."

"Even when they're mad at each other?"

Beth looked at Trevor over her shoulder. He still stood before the stove, but he was looking their way. What was he thinking?

"I'm not mad at Trevor, Mags."

"But I thought you said--"

"I don't want to discuss this. Let's get ready to eat."

"Okay, but I don't think you should be kissing him."

_Right_. She herded Maggie down the hall to the bathroom. Beth didn't think she ought to be kissing Trevor either. In fact, she knew she shouldn't be kissing him. Kissing led to other things. Things that could lead to trouble. Beth certainly didn't need that kind of trouble. She knew better than to give in to temptation.

_But, oh wow_. Kissing Trevor Callahan had been everything she'd dreamed it would be and more. His lips had been firm and warm. His fingers on her face gentle, tantalizing. When she'd gripped his shirt, his chest had felt hard and hot beneath her hands. She'd wanted to rip the buttons and touch his bare skin.

Lord, the man was hot. He made Beth hot.

The kiss had gone beyond her wildest imagination. With a sigh of regret, Beth knew she couldn't allow it to happen again.

****

"So how does donkey basketball work?" Nancy Prescott asked.

Beth and her mom sat at a long table in the Rock of Ages nursing home where everyone was gathered for a Saturday morning arts and crafts session.

"I'm not sure exactly," Beth said. "I saw pictures on the Internet, but I'm not certain of the rules."

"I don't know the rules either," said old Mrs. Black. She sat across from Beth crocheting a hot pad holder. "But years ago, after the big war, I saw donkey basketball played right here in Stone Creek."

"Really?" Beth asked. "Who played?"

"The firefighters and the police force played in a benefit to raise funds for charity. My Gary was quite good. He scored three times. I was so proud of him."

"Yes, I remember," Mrs. Seaton piped in. "It was so much fun. And funny to watch. The men kept slipping off the donkeys. No one got hurt, thank the Lord. Oh, I do hope I get to see them play this time."

"Of course, you'll see them play," Beth assured her. "The van will carry all of you over to the high school gym."

"That's good," Nancy said, grabbing another triangle of cloth. "I do hope this brings in a lot of money for the library."

"Me too," Beth said, rethreading her needle.

While the ladies chatted on about the fund-raiser and the Memorial Day Festival, Beth listened with half an ear and focused on her sewing. Soon, her thoughts turned to Trevor Callahan and the kiss they'd shared last night.

Her body tingled whenever she thought about Trevor leaning down and touching her lips. How she'd gotten through dinner she'd never know. Sitting across from him at the kitchen table, Beth had tried to savor the delicious rice dish he'd prepared. But her hands had been sweaty, her stomach jumpy and all thoughts of eating had fled. Whenever she'd peeked at the man, he'd been staring at her with heavy-lidded eyes. Sexual awareness radiated between them. Beth had never felt anything like it before in her life. What she'd had with her husband Matt paled in comparison.

If she had a lick of sense, Beth knew she should pack up and move back to her garage apartment. But she still had Hank's books to sort. And she hadn't figured out a way to convince Trevor not to sell the ranch. If she wasn't staying at the house, how would she find the opportunity to make him change his mind?

Mags was still angry with him. Her daughter had a tendency to hold a grudge, which was something Beth needed to nip in the bud. Holding grudges was not the way she wanted her little girl to go through life.

Beth finished the bandanna and took another piece of cloth from the shrinking pile on the table. Conversation buzzed around her and she sighed with contentment. Helping people was so satisfying.

That was another reason to stay at Hank's house. She wanted to help Trevor get over his issues with his grandfather. The man might be filthy rich and way out of her league, but he wasn't happy.

Watching him make tentative overtures to Maggie, trying to get the little girl to talk to him touched Beth deep inside. With her sneaky hormones wreaking havoc, she needed to be extra careful.

"How are your other fund-raisers coming along, Beth dear?" Mrs. Black asked.

Beth pushed aside the troubling thoughts. "The collection cans are doing surprisingly well. People are being generous. If I could get the City Council to pass a bond measure to make up the rest . . ." Beth shook her head. "They aren't very interested in the new library. All they can think about are projects that will bring in money for the town."

"Well dear, building Stone Creek into a resort community is important," Nancy said.

Beth jammed her needle through the cloth of the bandanna. "I know that, Mom. But the library is important, too. The present facility is pitiful. Shameful, in fact. The people of Stone Creek deserve better."

"That's very noble of you," Mrs. Seaton said. "Such sentiment from a young person does my old heart good. What you're doing is wonderful, Beth. And including us is an act of kindness. You don't know how much we appreciate it."

Everyone around the table murmured agreement. Nancy beamed at the praise heaped on her daughter.

Beth cleared her throat. "I couldn't do it without your help and everyone's contributions."

"Speaking of contributions," Mrs. Black said. "Are you finished cataloguing Hank Callahan's book collection?"

Beth sighed. "No, I have a long way to go. I work on it every night."

Mrs. Seaton put down her knitting needles. "I still can't believe Hank's grandson is _the_ Trevor Callahan of Titan Enterprises. I've read the magazine articles about him. He's done well for himself. And he's quite the ladies' man. I read that he's dated several New York models and at least one Hollywood movie-star."

Mrs. Black leaned closer to Beth. "So tell us, dear. What's he like? He was a good-looking youngster. I taught him freshman English. And smart! Lord, that boy was smart. It's no surprise to me that he's done so well. Is he still good looking?"

"Friendly or stand-offish?" Mrs. Seaton asked.

"It's a shame how Hank treated that boy," Mrs. Black said.

"What's it like living with a jet-setter?" Mrs. Pierce wanted to know.

"Beth's not living with him," Nancy said quickly.

"But they're staying together at Hank's house, aren't they?"

"Well, yes--"

Mrs. Pierce turned to Beth. "So, what is Trevor Callahan really like?"

All the ladies stared at Beth, waiting for her to answer their questions. Goodness, she didn't know where to start.

"Well, he _is_ good looking," she began.

"As good looking as his pictures in the magazines?" Mrs. Seaton said.

Beth smiled. "Better. Much better."

"He's caught your eye." Mrs. Black nodded indulgently.

Beth felt her cheeks grow warm. "A woman would have to be dead, not to notice him," she said.

"Is he nice?" Mrs. Pierce asked. "Well-mannered or snobbish?"

"He's very nice. Not pretentious in the least." Beth reached for the scissors to snip her thread. Trevor was being so nice, in fact, that he didn't seem like the rich CEO of an international corporation who dated super models and flew private jets.

Instead, he was an unhappy man, trying to come to terms with his past. A very attractive man whose kisses were as addictive as imported chocolate. Once you had a taste, you wanted more. A whole lot more. And Beth knew deep down, indulging in Trevor's kisses would only lead to heartache.

****

Trev stood on the scaffolding and tore down the old soffits and siding from the house. Sweat dripped down his back and his damp T-shirt clung to his skin. He stopped a moment and pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside.

Picking up a crowbar, he went back to it. He could have flown in a crew to do the work. Might still do it, if he needed to. But for some reason, Trev wanted to do the renovation and painting himself. It had been years since he had done any actual hard physical labor. He found that he missed it.

Exercising and working with a personal trainer wasn't the same as getting your hands dirty and using muscles you'd forgotten you had. And the sense of accomplishment for an honest day's work satisfied something basic within. Plus, maybe the back-breaking, bone-weary work would help banish the demons of the past.

"Hey, Trevor," a small voice sounded from below. "We're back from the nursing home."

Trev looked down at Maggie. Her face was so sweet as she gazed upward. She hadn't talked to him in almost twenty-four hours. One whole day. Probably the longest damn day of his life. He tried to ignore the joy in his heart because she was speaking to him again. Man, what the hell was wrong with him?

"Hey, kiddo. What's going on?"

"Can I come up there and help you? Pretty please?" She already had a foot on the bottom bar of the scaffold.

"Hold on there, Maggie. Didn't your mom warn you not to climb up here on Thursday?" That's when he'd set up the scaffolding.

"She didn't say anything about today." Maggie grinned at him, the little imp.

He had to smile at that. "It's too dangerous while I'm tearing this stuff down."

Maggie frowned. "I'll be real careful and behave myself. Please?"

Because Maggie had finally broken her silence, Trev wanted to give her anything her little heart desired. That should have warned him he was becoming too attached to the child. And that should have scared him half to death. Should have, but didn't. "Tell you what. When I start painting, you can help me. Deal?"

She clapped her hands and jumped up and down. "Deal. Do you want a glass of lemonade?"

"Sure thing. I'd like that."

"Okay, I'll be right back." Maggie ran around the house and out of sight.

Trev found himself smiling again as he stripped off another piece of siding. He'd smiled more in the past week than in the last couple of decades. The muscles in his cheeks ached from the unaccustomed use.

Coming back to Stone Creek was proving to be an enlightening experience. For years, he'd been so caught up building his business that he'd had no time for anything else. Trev suddenly realized he had no life outside work. Forty was looming close on the horizon. Made a man think about things.

He'd spent most of his adult life nursing a grudge against his grandfather. With good reason, but still. Getting rid of the ranch would close the door on that chapter of his life and maybe then Trev could move on. It was time.

"I'm back," Maggie announced. "Come down and drink your lemonade. Mommy brought a snack, too."

Beth held a tray with a pitcher and glasses and squinted up at him. "How about taking a break? You've been up there since early this morning and it's awfully hot."

"All right. You don't have to ask twice." Trev grabbed his shirt and wiped the sweat from his face and chest. He thought about putting it on, but looped it around his neck and shoulders instead.

As he climbed down the scaffolding, he steeled himself to face Beth. Ever since he'd kissed her, being near her was torture. He tried to keep his distance, but living in the same house made it impossible. He bumped into her all the time--in the kitchen, in the hall, on the stairs, everywhere.

Halfway down, Trev jumped to the ground. Beth set the tray on the workbench he'd rigged with a plank and two sawhorses. She poured the lemonade and handed him a tall glass.

"Thanks." He drained the glass and handed it back. Their fingers brushed and Trev could have sworn the heat melted the ice in the glass.

Beth cleared her throat and her cheeks grew pink. "Want more?"

Trev couldn't resist. He gently swiped a knuckle against one rosy cheek. "Oh, yeah. I'd like more."

Her breath hitched and she pulled away. "I'm talking about lemonade."

"Right. Pour me another glass." He used his shirt again to wipe sweat from his forehead. The heat was killing him and it wasn't the weather. Trev never would have believed a T-shirt and shorts on a woman could be so sexy. The cropped shirt showed a hint of smooth, flat belly. That bare skin teased his imagination and the low riding shorts pretty well teased the rest of him. He remembered her in the bikini. He wanted to see her without any clothes. See if his imagination lived up to reality.

Beth turned back with his refill. "Have you eaten lunch? I could fix you something."

"I stopped earlier and made a sandwich. How was your morning?"

"Great. We made more items for the craft corner in my mom's shop."

"All proceeds going to the library fund," Trev said.

She flashed him one of her kilowatt smiles. "Of course."

Trev liked her smile. He liked a lot about Beth Evans. Too much, in fact.

"Trevor! Come on! Mommy said we could eat our snack like a picnic." Maggie sat on a colorful quilt spread under the mulberry tree. "Come on. What are you waiting for? She made brownies and they're yummy."

"Maggie's not mad at me any more?" he asked.

Beth poured two glasses of lemonade and shrugged. "We had a talk. I explained that the ranch was yours and you could do whatever you wanted with it, no matter how we feel about it." She grabbed the tray of brownies. "Here, take these."

Trev held the tray and his glass, but didn't move. "I know Maggie doesn't want me to sell the ranch. But you know my reasons. Do you feel the same way?"

Something flickered in her eyes and she hesitated before replying. "What does it matter? My feelings aren't relevant, are they?" She walked past him and he caught a whiff of her scent. Trev wanted to bury his nose in her hair. He wanted to bury himself inside her. But that wasn't going to happen.

Trev set the brownies on the quilt and plopped down beside Maggie. He ruffled her golden curls. "How's it going, kiddo?"

Maggie reached for a brownie. "Better now that I've forgiven you."

"I'm glad you're not mad at me any more." He took a swig of lemonade and tried not to stare at Beth sitting across from him on the blanket.

"Me too. Mommy said holding grudges is bad. She said life's too short to hold a grudge."

"Your mom's a smart lady." He lifted his glass to Beth. She raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

Maggie nodded. "That's where I get it. It's in our genes. That's _g-e-n-e-s_ , not like blue jeans, with a j."

"I knew that."

"You're chattering, Mags." Beth smiled as she handed a napkin to her daughter.

"I can't help it. I like to talk." She turned back to Trev. "Mommy also 'splained how you felt about Poppy and how the ranch makes you sad. I can't understand why Poppy was so mean to you. He was always nice to me."

"Hush, Mags. Trevor doesn't like to talk about Hank."

The little girl sighed. "I'm just trying to understand." She handed a brownie to Trevor. "Try one. They're still warm. I close my eyes when I eat them. They taste just like Mommy."

"Mags!"

"What?" she said. "When I take a bite, I get the same yummy feeling in my tummy as when you hug me, that's all."

Trev took the brownie from Maggie and stared at Beth. "They taste like your mom, huh?"

"Uh-huh."

Beth looked at him over Maggie's head. Those green eyes sparked with awareness. He was flirting with danger by flirting with Beth, but couldn't bring himself to care.

Maggie grabbed another brownie for herself. "And since you kissed Mommy, you know how she tastes."

"Margaret Lynn!" Beth's cheeks turned bright red.

_Out of the mouths of babes_. "Yes, I know how your mom tastes." Trev bit into the brownie and closed his eyes. The rich moist chocolate exploded on his tongue. Not as tasty or powerful as that unforgettable kiss, but the kid was right. The brownie produced a wallop of serotonin to the brain. Kissing Beth had produced a wallop, too. Only not to the brain.

"It's good, isn't it?" Maggie asked.

Trevor finished off the sweet and reached for another, snagging Beth's gaze again. "Delicious."

"Told you." Maggie drank her lemonade. "Are you guys going to kiss again?"

Beth nearly choked. "Eat your brownie, Mags."

The little girl turned to Trevor. "Well, are you?"

Trev chewed thoughtfully. "That depends on your mom."

"Really? Is that how kissing works?"

"Usually," he said.

"Mags, you shouldn't be asking Trevor these questions."

The little girl frowned. "Why not? How will I learn anything if I don't ask questions?"

"Kissing is personal and private," Beth said. "I'll explain it all to you when you're older."

"All of it?" Trev asked.

"Yes, all of it." Beth raised her chin, as if daring him to say more. Didn't she realize what a challenge she presented? To his good intentions? To his hormones? Especially to his hormones.

Maggie sighed again. "That's what you always say. When I get older, I'm going to have way too much new stuff to learn and understand. Besides, I want to know now."

"Eat your brownie, Mags."

"Oh, all right." She made short work of the brownie, then brushed the crumbs from her hands. "Well, if you do kiss again, does that mean you're going to get married? Because if you get married, then Trevor could be my dad and he wouldn't have to sell the ranch, because we could live here."

"Mags!"

"What?"

"Trevor and I are not going to kiss again."

"Never?" Maggie asked.

"Never?" Trev repeated. He knew they shouldn't, but damn, he wanted to kiss her again.

Beth narrowed her eyes at him. "Never."

Maggie's little shoulders slumped. "Oh, well. I just thought . . . never mind."

Trev sipped his lemonade. This situation was becoming more complicated by the minute. The kid was getting the wrong idea about everything. This was exactly the reason he never dated women with children. He knew from his own bleak past how easily a child could get hurt. He didn't want to contribute to any child's unhappiness. Especially Maggie's.

But when Beth said they were never going to kiss . . . Trev knew that would be the smartest path to take. But when she actually put it into words, it sounded like a challenge. And he could never turn his back on a challenge.

Maggie jumped up and pointed to the scaffolding. "Can I climb up there just once? I want to see what Trevor's doing up close."

"Mags, I'd rather you didn't. What is it with you wanting to climb things all of a sudden?"

Maggie shrugged. "I'm not growing tall fast enough. I want to get a different perspective of stuff."

" _Perspective_?" Trev shook his head. Where did the kid come up with these words?

"That's what I said." She clasped both hands together and made an entreating motion. "Can I climb it? Pretty please?"

"I'm sorry," Beth said. "Mags thinks she can get anything she wants if she says 'pretty please.'"

"Does it work?" Trev asked. It worked for him. He was ready to give the kid the moon only because she looked so darn cute.

Beth chuckled. "Most times, yes. But not this time. No, Mags. I don't want you up there."

"But, Mommy--"

"Not another word."

"Humph."

"Mags, don't pout."

"Trevor said I could help him when he starts painting. I'll have to climb up there so I can reach."

"It's not safe."

"But Mommy--"

Trev set down his empty glass. "I can put a safety belt on her. I could really use her help."

"See, Trevor needs my help. Please?"

Beth shot him a look he couldn't interpret. The silence drew out while she considered the options. "All right. If I think the belt will keep you from falling, you can help paint."

"Yippy!" Maggie hugged her mother, then launched herself against Trevor and threw her arms around his neck.

Trev hesitated a second before wrapping his own arms around the little girl and holding her close. Oh yeah. The situation was definitely getting complicated.

### CHAPTER SEVEN

Dave and Gloria Jamail lived in one of the oldest neighborhoods in Stone Creek. Beth always drooled over the large Victorian house whenever she visited her friend. The two women had become friends while working together at the elementary school.

On Sunday evening, Beth stood at the center island of the large renovated kitchen helping Gloria with the salads. Maggie and the four Jamail kids were running around in the backyard, where the men stood guard over the barbecue pit.

"I'm so glad Dave invited you and Trevor over," Gloria said as she sliced tomatoes. "He's talked about him for years. I've been dying to meet him. And not because he's such a celebrity. Dave's really missed him. They were inseparable as kids."

"Really?" Beth glanced out the window. Trevor leaned against a trellis, a cold longneck in hand, talking to Dave. Just looking at the man caused shivers to shimmy up her spine. "He seems like such a loner," Beth said, trying to ignore those shivers. "And his childhood with Hank--he hasn't told me much, but I know he wasn't happy."

"That's an understatement," Gloria said. She tossed the tomatoes in the bowl of lettuce, then started paring cucumbers. "Dave said the old man made Trev's life hell."

Beth chopped a pickle for the potato salad. "Hank must have mellowed quite a bit by the time I met him. He regretted how he'd treated Trevor, though he never explained what he'd actually done. And Trevor assured me Hank didn't beat him."

"Dave said the old man made him feel like he was a burden. Nothing he did was ever good enough. For example, Trevor excelled in sports, not football or baseball, but he lettered in golf and tennis--"

"Yeah, Trevor said something about not liking team sports." Beth remembered Dave bulldozing him into participating in the donkey basketball game. But surely a man like Trevor Callahan never did anything he didn't really want to do. So why had he agreed to play?

"Well," Gloria continued. "Hank didn't think golf and tennis were manly or macho sports. So even though Trevor was the best of the best, it wasn't good enough for Hank."

Beth frowned. "There must have been a reason why he treated his only grandson so terribly. I wonder what it could have been?"

"I don't know. And, get this," Gloria said. "Trevor was salutatorian of his class. He skipped a grade because he was so smart. He was a year younger than his classmates and still graduated second. But that wasn't good enough for Hank, either."

"Goodness. That's so out of character for the Hank I knew."

Gloria nodded. "And besides all that, Hank wanted Trevor to stay on the ranch and take over the family business. From what Dave's told me, I think Trevor gave up trying to please his grandfather and just took off after high school. I really can't say I blame him."

"And he's never been back until now?"

"That's right. Dave is so glad to see him. He's hoping Trevor will change his mind and come back to stay. He's trying to interest him in some of the construction projects around town and the lake. But that's not going to happen, what with Trevor putting the ranch up for sale."

"I think he wants to cut all ties to his past," Beth said. And when he accomplished that, she wouldn't be getting the library money Hank had promised her. And what was worse, she'd never see Trevor again. A sinking sensation settled deep in her stomach.

"He certainly deserves to put it behind him," Gloria said. "He's done well for himself. Dave's a little jealous. I keep reminding him that he's just as successful in his own way as his friend." Gloria scraped the cucumber slices into the salad bowl and picked up a zucchini. "So tell me how it's going. I mean, living with a hunk like Trevor."

Beth looked up from the cutting board. "I'm not living with him, Gloria. We're sharing the same house. There's a difference."

"Sure, sure. But you have to admit the man's hot. If I weren't happily married, I'd be swooning in a puddle of mush every time he turned those bedroom eyes on me." She picked up a paper plate and fanned herself. "Lordy, he's sexy."

"Gloria!"

"What? A woman can dream, can't she? And you're in the position to make the dream come true. How long has it been since you went out with a man? You need to live a little."

Beth shrugged. "I have responsibilities. I have a daughter."

"Speaking of which . . . How's Trevor dealing with Maggie? Do they get along? He's probably not used to kids."

Beth smiled. "No, he's definitely not used to children. Mags has him wrapped so tightly around her finger, the man doesn't know if he's coming or going. It's really funny." It was also sweet. Trevor's interaction with Maggie melted something in Beth's heart. How could it not? Seeing him be nice and gentle, tender and teasing to Mags--that went a long way in the man's favor.

"Have you done the wild thing yet?"

" _What_?" Beth's hand jerked and she nearly sliced her thumb with the sharp knife. "Good grief, you're as bad--no, you're worse than the ladies at the nursing home. They wanted to know all about me and Trevor, too."

"Can you blame them? Trevor coming back to Stone Creek is the most exciting thing to happen in years. Trevor's practically famous. So, have you done it with him?"

"Of course we haven't done . . . _it_ . . . _that_ . . . We are not going to do it. Ever."

"Why not? It's not like you're a virgin--"

"Hey, I don't sleep around."

"Heck fire, Beth. You don't even nap around. You don't date. You don't flirt. You bury yourself in your projects. It wouldn't hurt you to have a little fun. And I think Trevor Callahan would be fun with a capital F." Gloria waggled her eyebrows.

Beth shook her head. "That's easy for you to say. You're in a good marriage with a great guy. My situation is totally different. I made a terrible mistake with Matt and I don't want to repeat it. Mags and I are doing fine, thank you very much."

"Well, I'm only saying that it wouldn't be a mortal sin if you took a walk on the wild side. You could at least kiss him."

Beth bent her head to her task of chopping onions. She felt her cheeks grow warm.

"Ah hah! You _have_ kissed him," her friend said. "So how was it? Hot? Steamy? Delicious? Tell me!"

"Hey, I don't ask personal questions about you and Dave, now do I?"

Gloria let out a sigh. "Okay, okay, you have a point. But at least you've given me hope."

"Hope for what?"

"That you're not a lost cause. That maybe you'll get on with your life. Your social life, which is nonexistent right now. Maybe some day you'll be tempted to take that walk on the wild side."

Beth threw a wadded-up napkin at her friend. "You're impossible, you know it?"

Gloria grinned. "All right. I'll shut up for now."

Maggie and Shana skipped into the kitchen and came to a halt near the center island. Maggie leaned against Beth and hugged her. "Mommy, we're starving."

Beth brushed wisps of hair from her daughter's face. "It won't be long now, pumpkin."

Gloria poured dressing over the salad and tossed the greens with tongs. "Shana, go ask your father how long before the meat is ready."

"Okay, Mom. Race you!" Shana said to Maggie.

Maggie nodded. "One, two, three, go!"

Both girls rocketed toward the back door.

"Walk!" Gloria called after them. Too late. They were already gone.

Beth smiled. "Where do they get all that energy?"

"If I knew, I'd bottle it and be a rich woman." Gloria picked up the salad, paper plates and utensils and prepared to join the men outside. "You finished with the potato salad?"

"Almost. Go ahead. I'll be out in a sec." Beth stirred in the mayonnaise and mustard mixture, coating the potatoes. All of Gloria's talk about Trevor and doing the wild thing had Beth's body thrumming.

She shouldn't even think about kissing him again, let alone doing anything more. That would be a sure path to disaster. When she'd married Matt, Beth had mistaken lust for love. Older and wiser now, she hoped she'd learned her lesson. Just in case, she sent up a silent prayer to help her be strong enough to resist temptation. She was only human after all.

****

Trev drained the last drops of beer from his longneck and threw the bottle in the recycle bin that was set up near the ice-chests on the Jamail's hardwood deck.

"Help yourself to another," Dave said. He brushed pork ribs and chicken breasts with barbecue sauce, then closed the lid on the pit.

"I think I'll wait and have one when we eat."

"Ten minutes and it'll be done," Dave said. "Fifteen, tops."

"Good." Trev's mouth watered as the scent of grilled meat mingled with the fresh spring air. How long since he'd been to a cookout? A _family_ cookout? "Family" was a concept he barely remembered and had a hard time grasping.

The French doors to the kitchen opened and Gloria came out carrying a loaded tray.

"Here, sweetheart, let me help." Dave took the tray and gave her a quick kiss before setting it on the picnic table.

"Beth will be out in a minute," Gloria said with a smile. "She's finishing up the potato salad. Hope you brought your appetite, Trevor."

"Oh, yeah. Everything smells delicious."

"Well, it's nothing fancy and probably not what you usually eat, but Dave's a good cook."

"I bet he is. I haven't eaten real Texas barbecue in years. I'm looking forward to it."

"Good, you're in for a treat." She turned away and started putting plates and napkins around the table.

The French doors opened again and Beth walked out. She hesitated and glanced around the wooden deck, caught Trevor's gaze, then quickly looked away. But not before he saw the awareness in her eyes. Something--he didn't know what--slammed inside his chest.

She wore her standard outfit of sleeveless blouse, shorts and strappy sandals. Definitely not designer-label, but Beth was beautiful anyway.

"Put the bowl right here," Gloria said to Beth. "Dave, is the meat ready?"

"Sure thing, honeybunch. Coming right up."

Gloria called the kids in from the yard to herd them inside so they could wash up. When the five children stomped on the deck, they were hot and sweaty and noisy. Maggie smiled at Trevor. That strange feeling slugged him again.

"Here, I'll help Mags," Beth said.

"I'll do it." Gloria took Maggie's hand. "You relax a minute. Grab a beer or soda. We'll be right back."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." She winked. "It's time to take that walk we talked about."

"I don't know--" Beth glanced Trevor's way and smiled shyly. He smiled back. He thought she was an intriguing mixture of innocence and sexuality.

"Go on." Gloria gave Beth a little nudge toward him. Looked like her friend was trying her hand at matchmaking.

Beth frowned. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink that made her freckles stand out. Trev liked the freckles. Especially the ones he'd seen on her stomach and chest when she'd worn the bikini.

"Gloria, where's the platter for the meat?" Dave said.

"In the pantry. Why don't you get it while I see to the kids?" She grabbed her husband's arm and hauled him to the door along with the children.

Definitely matchmaking.

Beth looked dazed and uncomfortable at the sudden disappearance of everyone. She turned wide green eyes on Trev. She seemed nervous, which was ridiculous since they were staying together at Hank's place. Or was she thinking about the kiss? The kiss he couldn't forget.

"You want a coke or beer?" Trev shoved away from the trellis and headed for the ice-chests. He needed something to do with his hands before he did anything stupid. Like go over and touch Beth. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to kiss her again.

"A coke will be fine." Beth stepped to the table and started dealing out forks and knives next to each plate.

Trev opened the lid of the cooler. "Regular or diet?"

"Regular."

He popped the top and handed her the cold can.

"Thanks." She took a sip, then licked a drop from her bottom lip. Trev's whole body went on alert. In his mind, he knew he and Beth could never have a relationship. But he was having a difficult time convincing his body.

He opened a bottle of beer and took a long pull. He needed to cool down and recapture his control. The control he'd lost the day he returned to Stone Creek and met Beth Evans.

"Does Gloria make a habit of setting you up with men?" _Where the hell had that come from_?

Beth spewed a mouthful of soda. "Of course not! It's nothing like that. You've got it all wrong."

"It sure looks that way to me." Trev grabbed a napkin and dabbed the front of Beth's cream-colored blouse. With his hand on her bare shoulder, he felt her tremble. He tightened his grip and her eyes flew to his. A man could lose his soul in her lovely eyes if he wasn't careful. Trev prided himself on being careful. Careful and controlled. He stepped away and thrust the napkin at her. "You better finish that."

She took the napkin and turned away.

Trev lifted his beer to his lips, his hand not quite steady. _Great, Callahan. Just great_.

The doors burst open and the kids ran out on the deck and climbed on the seats of the picnic table. Gloria and Dave followed at a more leisurely pace. Gloria carried the meat platter and Dave, a cast-iron pot of baked beans.

"Please, Mommy! Can I have a coke?" Maggie called from the table, wiggling in between Shana and her brother, Josh.

Trev shot a look at Beth. She was still blotting her blouse. "I'll get it for you, kiddo," he said. "Who else wants one?"

All the kids raised their hands. "I do! Me! Me!"

After he passed drinks around, Trev held the platter while Dave took the meat off the grill. Everyone lined up to serve their plates, buffet style.

The table was crowded; kids and adults sat scrunched together. Trev settled next to Beth, so close they could have been joined at the thigh. He felt the burn all the way to his groin. It was both pleasure and torture. Beth tried to scoot away, but couldn't. She held herself stiffly, keeping her eyes on her plate.

"Dig in," Dave said with a smile. "Hope it's good."

"Oh, Dad. It's always good," said Kurt, Dave's oldest son. Trev thought the boy must be ten or eleven. He knew Shana was five and a half because Maggie had told him. The other two kids were somewhere in between.

Trev picked up a barbecued rib and bit into the juicy meat. The tender glazed pork melted in his mouth. "Damn, Dave. Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

Dave grinned at him from across the table where he sat next to his wife. "Hey, I'm an old married man. Outdoor grilling comes with the territory. Good, huh?"

Trev nodded. "Great. You should open a restaurant."

Dave shook his head. "I don't know about that. But thanks. The secret's in the sauce."

Gloria playfully elbowed her husband. "Yeah, he puts beer in it."

"Hey, you weren't supposed to tell!" He kissed her, then resumed eating.

Trev noted the couple's contentment and happiness. Pure, unadulterated envy tugged deep inside. His old school buddy was one lucky son of a bitch. He lived a Norman Rockwell existence with his loving wife and four beautiful kids. Even their Victorian-style house looked like something straight out of a fairy-tale.

Could Trev feel any more alienated and out of sync? The same feelings had hit him when he'd first met Beth and Maggie. The bond between mother and daughter was strong and impenetrable. Like the bond between Dave and his wife and their children.

Trev started on another rib. Compared to them, his own life was lacking something. Sure, he had the external trappings of success--he owned an international corporation, and a diversified stock portfolio; he had the limos, the sports cars, the private jet. Even the women. But those things didn't keep a man warm in the middle of a cold dark night. Not even the women. They were only interested in his money, not him.

He'd worked damn hard to achieve success, to prove his worth. So why did he suddenly feel like he didn't measure up? That what he had was insignificant compared to what Dave possessed?

Coming back to Stone Creek and the Rocking C had resurrected all the old feelings of inadequacy. The sooner he left, the better off he would be. He glanced at the woman sitting next to him and stifled any remorse at the thought of never seeing her again. Beth Evans was not for him. They were all wrong for each other.

And where the hell was he going with that line of thinking? Love was a concept even more alien to Trevor than family. He'd never gotten it right. His parents had died and his grandfather had hated him. And he'd never loved a woman before.

Dave snagged Trev's attention away from his somber thoughts. "When are you going to fly down to Laredo and bring Bonita back so we can read the will?"

"I thought I'd go after Memorial Day. I'm busy working on the house right now. And it'll depend on the weather and how Bonita's mother is doing."

"Hey, Beth," Gloria said. "Why don't you go with him? You could use a break. And Bonita doesn't like to fly. You could give her moral support."

Beth straightened beside Trev and shook her head. "I can't leave Mags."

"Sure you can," Gloria said. "I'd be happy to watch her for you."

"That's nice of you, but I can't get off work--"

"Nonsense. You haven't had a vacation since you came to live in Stone Creek. You deserve some time off. I'm sure Mildred at the library wouldn't mind. How long will you be gone, Trevor?"

"Only overnight." He didn't know what to make of Gloria's obvious matchmaking efforts. But what the hell. "Beth's welcome to come along, if she wants."

"You see?" Gloria said. "It's all set. You're going to Laredo."

"All right then," Beth said. "Great."

Out of the corner of his eye, Trev saw her glare at her friend. Somehow, he didn't think Beth was thrilled with the prospect of going to Laredo. And he couldn't blame her. He wasn't sure how he felt about it either. Beth Evans was dangerous. He didn't know exactly how; he just knew that she was.

****

Later that night, Beth sat on the floor in Hank's study, organizing books. Maggie had fallen into bed, exhausted from playing so hard with the Jamail children. Beth was tired, but restless and edgy. She usually had no trouble sleeping. She didn't know what her problem was.

Right, Beth. You know.

Trevor Callahan was the problem. His arrival at the ranch had messed up her well-ordered life. Messed up her hormones and made her want things that she'd pushed to the bottom of her priority list. Things like passion, sex and _love_.

Gloria had been right on target with her innuendos. Beth did want to do the wild thing with Trevor. Her body zinged with awareness whenever he was near. Sitting next to him at the picnic table this afternoon, feeling his hard body jammed against hers, had Beth thinking all kinds of erotic thoughts.

Heck, she didn't need Gloria's help and encouragement. From the first day Trevor had stepped into her life, Beth had indulged in lustful fantasies morning, noon and night. Especially the nights.

"Mind if I join you?" Trev's deep voice sounded from the doorway.

"Yes! No!" Beth scrambled to her feet. "I'm almost finished for tonight."

Trevor moved toward her. She took a step back.

"There's no need to be afraid of me, Beth." He didn't stop until he was standing a couple of feet away.

Beth lifted her chin. "I'm not afraid of you." Her heart knocked against her ribs, giving lie to her brave words. Not exactly a lie. She wasn't afraid of Trevor as much as she was of the situation. She was afraid she'd give in to the wild attraction. Afraid she'd confuse lust and love again. Something she couldn't afford to do.

Trevor didn't say anything for a minute, just stared at her. His gray eyes gleamed silver as they moved to her lips, down her body, then slowly back up. Beth shivered in response.

"On second thought," he said, "maybe you should be afraid." With a muttered curse, he turned abruptly away, walked over to Hank's desk and sat down.

Beth tried desperately to regain control of her equilibrium and push away the feeling of regret that he hadn't taken her in his arms and kissed her. Not for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to make love to a man like Trevor Callahan. Strike that. Not a man _like_ Trevor. She wanted Trevor himself.

_Like that was going to happen_. A one-night stand or a brief passionate affair wasn't Beth's style. Besides, it wouldn't work with Trevor. He came from another world.

Beth dreamed about sharing a happily-ever-after with someone special. Someone who would love her exclusively forever and ever. She wanted what her parents had--a love that transcended ordinary everyday life. So she needed to keep those thoughts in mind. Now and in the weeks ahead. Because Trevor Callahan made her want to forget about the future and just live in the present.

"I'm going to bed." Beth moved toward the door, praying her legs wouldn't fail her.

"Come here a minute." It sounded like a command. Beth felt her hackles rise. When she hesitated, Trevor muttered another oath. Keep walking, Beth. It was the safest thing to do.

"Don't go yet," Trevor said, changing his tone. "We need to talk about this trip to Laredo."

That caught her attention. She took a deep breath and spun around. "What about it?" Gloria's manipulations still made her angry. Beth knew traveling alone with Trevor was tempting fate.

"Have a seat," Trevor said. With his foot, he pushed the straight-back chair away from the desk to better accommodate her.

Beth couldn't read his expression as she sat down. She folded her hands in her lap. "What about the Laredo trip?" she asked again.

"There's no reason for you to go. I know Gloria orchestrated the whole thing so you felt like you couldn't refuse."

"She did no such thing," Beth said, even though it was true.

Trevor looked at her in disbelief. "Well, it certainly seemed that way. When she mentioned Bonita's fear of flying, your do-gooder side kicked in."

Beth's hackles rose higher. "My _do-gooder_ side?"

He shrugged. "You can't resist helping people."

"And that's a bad thing?"

He picked up a pencil, fiddled with it, then set it back on the desk. "No, as long as you don't neglect yourself."

"I don't neglect myself." She sat straighter. Was he trying to push her buttons? Because he was doing a darned good job of it.

"Anyway, I just wanted to let you off the hook," Trevor said. "You don't have to go to Laredo with me. I'll make sure Bonita's okay during the flight."

All Beth's good intentions about keeping her distance flew out the window. "Listen, Mr. Hotshot, I said I'd go and I will. Unless you don't want me to?" Maybe he didn't want her company. Maybe the kiss they shared hadn't affected him at all. Trevor's life and his world were far out of Beth's realm of reality. And the women he knew were very different from her. Maybe he'd found her lacking. Maybe she was only imagining the electricity zipping between them.

He leveled those gray eyes on her. "Oh, I want you."

Beth swallowed. No way could she misinterpret his meaning. "You want me to go to Laredo with you?"

"That too." He leaned across the desk. "You know, we haven't discussed the kiss the other night."

She scooted the chair back. "There's nothing to discuss."

He stood and slowly came around the desk, reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. "I want to kiss you again."

"That's probably not a good idea." Oh, lord. She was playing with fire and if she wasn't careful, she was going to get burned. Bad.

"Probably not. I know you said we'd never kiss again. But don't you want to kiss me? Can't you feel the pull between us?"

"Yes . . . No!" She jerked her hand free and started backing away.

He followed, closing in on her until she bumped against the library table. "Just one kiss, Beth. One kiss can't hurt."

Before she could react, before she could reply, Trevor wrapped his arms around her, covered her mouth with his and God help her, she was a goner.

### CHAPTER EIGHT

The kiss shot a bolt of lightning straight through Trev's body. He grew hard as soon as Beth's lips opened to allow him to enter her sweetness. He knew he shouldn't be kissing her. He'd told himself he couldn't let it happen again. But something about Beth called to him. Every rational thought vanished as he gave in to the sensations rampaging out of control.

He held her close, relishing the feel of her breasts crushed against his chest. Gliding his hands down her back to the curve of her butt, Trev pulled her closer until her body nestled against his arousal.

Damn, she was hot. She had him hard and hurting. Aching with want and need.

When Beth sighed a sexy little sigh, Trev nearly came unglued. He broke contact with her mouth and moved his lips over her cheek, then behind her ear. Deep satisfaction flooded him when she trembled beneath his sensual assault. He nibbled her earlobe and licked the delicate shell.

"Trevor." She whispered his name, caught his jaws between her hands and pulled his mouth back to hers. He plunged into her wet warmth and nearly lost it when Beth took hold of his tongue and sucked. She rubbed her lithe body against him, matching the movement to the rhythm of her tongue and Trev was ready to explode.

He pushed her against the table and ground his arousal between her legs, silently cursing their clothes. He moved his hand under her cropped shirt and unfastened the lacy bra, promising himself he'd get rid of the shirt as soon as possible. He deepened the kiss and gently touched her smooth skin.

When he cupped her breast, Beth moaned and his body instantly responded to the primal sound. He kneaded the firm, round flesh, brushing his thumb over the tight nipple. She moaned again and went limp in his arms, starting a slow slide downward.

"Easy, sweetheart." Trev caught her and held on tight, pulling her up again.

"Sorry," she said huskily, reaching for him.

"No problem." He kissed her nose, lifted her and planted her butt on the edge of the table, then spread her legs and pushed himself between her thighs.

Trev held her like that for a long moment, relishing the feel of Beth's heat. She closed her eyes and threw back her head, arching her body and rubbing herself against him while thrusting her breasts upward in invitation.

He accepted eagerly, tugging the hem of the shirt out of the way and taking one nipple into his mouth. Her body went rigid and she dug her fingers into his hair holding his head in place as he suckled her breast.

Again, Beth whispered his name and he thought it had never sounded so sexy, so wonderful, as it did coming from her lips. Her body bucked when Trev laved his tongue around the areola and blew lightly on the dampened skin.

Her fingers tightened on his scalp and she moved a little, offering her other breast for his pleasure. He latched onto the dark nipple. Beth wrapped her legs around Trev and he was acutely aware that only two thin layers of clothing kept him from her feminine flesh. Trev's arousal throbbed against the zipper of his pants.

He wanted inside her so badly his head was buzzing. He wanted to rip her shorts and panties away and taste her very essence. Then he wanted to push inside her and feel her hot wetness close around him. He wanted to feel her body accept him, feel her contractions as she climaxed. He wanted to make her his.

"Lie back on the table, Beth." She looked at him, her eyes glazed with passion, not comprehending his words. He kissed her again and she hugged him tightly. She tasted so sweet, so hot, so willing. He urged her to a reclining position, and took her hands from around his neck, kissed each palm in turn and folded them over the valley between her breasts, keeping one hand on top of hers. Her beautiful red hair fanned out against the table as she lay there so trustingly.

Sweat beaded on Trev's forehead as he kissed his way down her stomach. He kissed her freckles and licked her belly button, heard her quick intake of air. She was so incredibly responsive. He reached beneath the hem of her shorts, eased past the elastic of her panties and slipped a finger inside her feminine heat. Damn, she felt good.

Lost in a sensual haze, Beth clutched Trevor's big hand tightly against her chest, while his other hand worked magic. He moved his finger in a steady rhythm, nurturing a fire, building a roaring yearning deep inside. More than life itself, Beth needed to taste him. "Kiss me, Trevor. Please kiss me." She tugged him toward her, fusing her lips to his when he was near enough.

She kissed him hard, sucking his tongue again, smiling when he growled into her mouth. He tasted of coffee, man and sex. His scent enveloped her, complementing how he tasted.

Beth forgot how to breathe, forgot how to think, forgot everything except Trevor's touch, his taste, his scent as he kidnapped her senses. She'd had no idea her body could respond as exquisitely as it did under Trevor's clever fingers and lips.

She gave herself over to the moment. Holding on to him with both hands, she urged Trevor to continue the sensual pleasure her body was craving. His short hair prickled the skin of her palms, every nerve ending tingled from the touch of his lips. He knew just where to kiss, just where to lick. He slipped another finger inside and her body pulsated in time to his rhythmic movements.

Trevor kissed her neck and throat. Anticipation grew as he bent to her breast. When he closed his mouth over her nipple, blissful shards of pleasure cascaded through her entire being. She was on fire, her blood raging in her veins, her body throbbing with need.

Beth couldn't get enough. She wanted more. She was starving for more. She'd gone too long without, denying her body's needs, ignoring the sensual side of her nature. A side she had briefly explored and barely tapped into.

There was a reason for that, but she couldn't think of it now. Not with Trevor doing such incredible things to her body. She just wanted to feel. She was on the edge of something awesome, her body stretched tight, ready to snap. She'd never felt this way before.

With Trevor's mouth on her breast and his fingers moving exquisitely deep inside her body, Beth held her breath. Energy and tension were building to an almost painful intensity.

Trevor knew Beth was close to climaxing. Their simple kiss had quickly escalated into a blazing inferno of passion. Her body felt glorious under his lips. She was wet and slick and God, how he wanted to be inside her.

He brushed his thumb softly across her feminine curls.

Beth gasped. "Trevor, please. I need . . ."

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

Gently, he rubbed back and forth against her sensitized flesh. For one long moment, she hung on the edge. Trev increased the pressure and rhythm until she shattered and came undone beneath his sensual onslaught.

Beth cried out. Trev covered her mouth to quiet her moans. Her body pulsated and contracted around his two fingers buried deep inside her. He held her close, half laying on top of her, until the last tremors of her climax receded.

She opened her eyes and looked at him in wonder. It was all he could do not to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly. He was a hairsbreadth away from taking her right there on the table.

What the hell was wrong with him? What the hell had he done? Beth deserved better than this.

"We have to stop." He gently withdrew his fingers and straightened her shorts. Those magnificent green eyes registered loss and rejection, then embarrassment.

Trev muttered a curse and pulled her to a sitting position. He kissed her forehead and tried to fasten her bra, but she pushed his hands away.

"I'll do it," she said. With shaking hands, Beth fumbled with the clasp. Her body was still shuddering with reaction. Finally, the clasp held and she smoothed her shirt over her stomach, then hopped down from the desk. Her legs wobbled and she would have fallen if Trevor hadn't caught her elbow to steady her.

"You okay?" He didn't immediately release her. He looked deeply in her eyes and Beth's heart tumbled over. Trevor was breathing hard and tremors rippled through his strong body.

The need to give him what he obviously wanted was almost too much for Beth to withstand. She raised a hand to his rough whiskered cheek, traced his jaw line, whispered his name.

He caught her wrist and jerked her against him. Beth felt his arousal pressing against her belly and her knees went weak again.

"One more kiss," he growled. "I have to taste you one last time." He crushed his lips to hers and Beth felt all the pent-up hunger he was trying to control.

Trev cupped her bottom with both hands and ground his lower body against her. Just when she thought she might climax again, he thrust her away. His eyes glittered like steel and he clenched his hands into fists. "Go upstairs, Beth. We're not going to do this. Get out of here. _Now!_ "

Beth didn't wait. She turned on her heels and fled. What had happened? One minute he was kissing her with a hunger so molten, so powerful, it practically incinerated her; the next moment he was pushing her angrily away.

Had Trevor suddenly decided she wasn't what he wanted? Had he found her lacking? Wasn't she good enough for him?

Beth ran into her bedroom and slammed the door. She looked at the bed. Sleep was impossible. Walking over to the window seat, she sank down on the tufted cushion and stared out the window into the dark starry night. Hugging a pillow to her chest, she buried her nose in its fluffy softness.

Trevor had done wonderful, exciting things to her body. He'd made her see fireworks, but still she felt a hollow emptiness deep in the pit of her stomach. She had the awful feeling only Trevor Callahan could fill that emptiness. And he'd made it perfectly clear that he had no intention of following through.

****

The next morning, Trev slept later than usual. He'd had a restless night, tossing and turning. Thinking about Beth. Kissing her. Touching her. Wanting her desperately.

He still wanted her desperately. He'd never wanted a woman as much as he wanted Beth. She'd made him need her and it scared the hell out of him.

Beth deserved a devoted, loving husband. She needed a father for Maggie. Trev didn't know how to be either of those things. He couldn't give her what she needed. She was the marrying kind of woman. The kind he'd always avoided. Plus she had a child. Another thing he'd always avoided.

Beth deserved a good man. Not someone like Trevor who was carrying around more baggage than a Boeing 747.

He sat up in bed and propped a pillow behind his back. He knew he had issues to deal with. Hell, just looking around his old bedroom reminded him of one of his worst issues.

His grandfather had updated and redecorated the rest of the house. But not Trev's room. Everything was exactly the same as the day he had left. It was obviously kept clean and dust free. But the same plaid curtains and the same quilt covered the old metal bedstead. Nothing had been touched or rearranged.

The wall was still plastered with posters and photographs from Trev's past. The shelves still housed the numerous trophies and awards Trev had won at school--none of which had impressed or meant a damned thing to Hank.

So why hadn't Hank gotten rid of Trev's stuff?

His grandfather might be dead and gone, but Trevor still nursed old hurts. Hank had never shown he had any feelings for his only son's child other than dislike. The old man had always thought Trevor a burden and a trial, a responsibility he'd never asked for and didn't want.

It had never mattered to his grandfather that Trev received good grades, excelled in sports, won scholarships, then went on to establish a successful business. All Trev's hard work had been for nothing. It hadn't gotten him what he truly wanted or needed: his grandfather's love and admiration.

_Aw, hell_. Enough with the morose thoughts. Trev had learned a long time ago he didn't need anybody. He'd learned the only person he could depend on was himself.

He got out of bed, dragged on some clothes and headed downstairs. No need for a shower since he would be working outside and getting hot and sweaty.

In the hallway, he slowed his pace. He heard Beth and Maggie talking in the kitchen. How would Beth react this morning after what had happened last night? He wondered how he should act. Not only had he taken advantage of her and allowed the kiss to spiral out of control, he'd practically snarled at her afterward and chased her off.

_Smooth, Callahan. Real smooth_.

Maggie sat at the table and spied him standing in the doorway. "Trevor! You're awake. Goodie! I get to help you paint today, remember?"

"Yeah, kiddo. I remember." He stepped into the room and ruffled her curls on his way to the coffee pot on the counter. Beth stood at the stove, flipping pancakes. She didn't look his way, but he could see her cheeks turn bright with color.

Trev poured a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. "Morning," he said. "Smells good." The whole kitchen smelled wonderful. Coffee, pancakes, bacon and Beth. Especially Beth. He inhaled a deep breath.

Beth threw him a stiff smile. "Breakfast will be ready in a minute."

"No hurry." He sipped his coffee and watched her over the rim of his cup. She appeared uncomfortable and embarrassed. He was a bastard to have done that to her.

She finished the last batch of pancakes and set the platter on the table along with a plate of crisp fried bacon. Butter and syrup were ready and waiting.

"Trevor, hurry up and sit down," Maggie said. "I'm starving."

Trev took a seat across from the little girl. "Seems like you're always starving."

Maggie smiled at him. "That's because I'm a growing girl. I need lots of vitamins and minerals. Right, Mommy?"

"That's right, baby." Beth sat down and served Maggie's plate. She cut a stack of three pancakes into small neat squares.

"Make sure they're all straight," Maggie said. "They have to be exactly straight."

"I know, Mags. I know."

Maggie looked at Trevor. "I like them in straight rows. They taste better that way."

"Really?" He helped himself to a stack of pancakes and slathered butter on the tops, then poured the warm syrup.

"Uh-huh," Maggie said. "May I have some bacon, please?"

Trev passed the plate and Maggie grabbed three pieces. He took four and handed the plate to Beth.

"Thanks." Still not meeting his eyes, she took a couple of pieces for herself.

Neither of them spoke while they ate. Maggie kept up a cheerful monologue that covered any awkwardness. Trev hated that he'd made Beth uncomfortable. That he'd jeopardized their friendship. He enjoyed his interaction with Beth and Maggie.

Again, Trev cursed himself for his loss of control. He had to make it right with Beth. But what could he do? What could he possibly say?

"All done," Maggie announced. "I'll go wash up and wait for you outside."

"Don't climb the scaffold until Trevor gets there," Beth said.

"I won't." Maggie smiled at Trevor, hopped down from the table and ran from the room.

"She's excited about helping me paint," Trev said.

"She's been looking forward to it. I hope she won't be in your way." Beth stood and gathered the dirty plates and took them to the sink. "It's kind of you to let her help."

Trev picked up his empty plate and took it over to Beth. "She's a neat kid. I like Maggie."

"She likes you, too."

Beth rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. She did her best to ignore Trevor. He was standing close beside her. She couldn't look at him. She'd die of embarrassment if she did. She still couldn't believe what they'd done, what they'd almost done, in Hank's study.

"Beth, we need to talk." He took hold of her arm and turned her to face him.

His fingers scorched her and she jerked away. "There's really nothing to talk about, is there? We got carried away last night, that's all." She couldn't let Trevor know how vulnerable she felt right now. How completely she'd lost control in his arms. Good lord. Was she a slave to her hormones or what?

"You could say we got a little carried away." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you want me to apologize?"

"Do you _want_ to apologize?" Was he sorry he kissed her? Touched her? Tilted her world?

"Hell, no," he said. "I wanted to drag you upstairs and get you naked. But I didn't think that would be the smart thing to do."

Damn him for being so calm, Beth thought. Her body whirred with excitement from him standing so close. Nothing had prepared her for the explosion of sensation she'd experienced in Trevor's arms last night.

_Good grief._ She'd had sex before. She'd had a baby for crying out loud. But Matt's gropings in the dark bore no resemblance or comparison to the magic of Trevor's kisses and caresses.

"You sure you're okay?" Trevor looked at her with tender concern. Beth wished he'd thrown caution to the winds last night and dragged her upstairs like he'd said he wanted to do. She wished he'd take her in his arms right now and kiss her again. But that wasn't going to happen. Shouldn't happen. That would be playing with fire and Beth reminded herself that she didn't want to get burned again.

"I'm okay." Not really, though. She was holding on to her composure only by a thread and didn't want to lose it in front of Trevor. She didn't want Trevor Callahan to know how unsophisticated Beth Evans truly was.

Strong hands grasped her shoulders. She kept her head lowered and tried to wiggle away, but Trevor wouldn't let her. "Look at me, Beth."

"No." She sniffed. Darn it, she _would_ not cry. She didn't need these sloppy emotions complicating her life.

Trevor placed a finger under her chin. "I'm sorry I took advantage--"

"You didn't take advantage," she said quickly. No way would she let Trevor take the blame. She'd been a willing partner. Too willing. That was the problem in a nutshell. "I didn't stop you--"

He silenced her with a finger over her lips. "Wait a minute, let me finish. I'm not sorry I kissed you. You're sweet and young and sexy as hell."

"You think I'm sexy?"

He rubbed his finger back and forth, gently over her bottom lip, then dropped his hand to her shoulder. "Hell yes, I think you're sexy. I don't go around kissing every woman I meet, you know."

"But the magazine articles--"

"Don't believe everything you read." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I admire you very much, but I shouldn't have let the kiss get out of control like that. It won't happen again. I promise."

Beth nodded. Trevor was being a gentleman about the whole thing. She should be glad, right? Then how come she felt disappointed instead? Disappointed and confused. Maybe he was trying to make her feel better. Maybe he didn't want her as badly as she wanted him.

Beth knew she was nothing like the other women in his life. No matter what he said, the women he dated were beautiful and sophisticated. No way could she compete with the glamorous socialites and career women who moved in his circles.

Time for a reality check. Trevor's world was not Beth's world. He was in Stone Creek for three or four weeks at the most. Two important facts she needed to keep in mind.

Beth took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face. "Look, let's agree we got caught up in the moment and the male-female thing. Close proximity, chemistry, whatever. It didn't mean anything."

"Right. It meant nothing," he said. Was that regret in his voice? Maybe the kiss had affected him. Get real, Beth. That was only wishful thinking.

Trevor's eyes gleamed silver like they'd done last night before he'd kissed her. For one heart-stopping instant, Beth thought he was going to do it again. But he dropped his hold on her shoulders, turned away and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Maybe the man wasn't as calm as he appeared on the surface.

"Will you still fly to Laredo with me?" he said over his shoulder.

Definitely not a good idea. Beth took another deep cleansing breath. "You know what? I don't think so. In fact, maybe I should move back to my garage apartment."

He quickly turned to face her again. "You don't trust me to keep my hands to myself?"

Beth couldn't lie to him. She'd trusted him enough to let him touch her intimately. Trusted him enough to break six years of celibacy if he so much as crooked a finger at her now. "I trust you. But it's probably best for me not to stay here any longer. Maybe I should go home."

"Go home?" Trev couldn't believe what Beth was saying. Was she really going to leave the ranch? Leave him? If she left, she'd take Maggie. He liked the kid. A lot. He'd miss her like hell.

But he'd miss her beautiful mother even more. He enjoyed having them at the ranch. Their presence made everything more bearable. Even pleasant, if he was honest.

Trev stared down at Beth. His arms ached to hold her again. His hands fisted in his pockets. Damn, he had it bad for this woman.

She was looking at him out of those big green eyes, waiting for him to say something. She bit her bottom lip and desire rammed him in the gut. He wanted to kiss her again. But he couldn't, because he didn't want to hurt her.

Trev took a step back. He didn't want her to leave either. He had to think of a way to make her stay.

_Think, Callahan. Think_.

"You don't have to go home, Beth. I know how hard you're working to get Hank's books organized. And we had a deal, didn't we?"

"A deal?" Beth looked confused for a minute, then nodded. "Oh, yeah. Our deal." She lifted that determined chin again and squared her shoulders. "Okay, I'll stay and keep house for you until Bonita returns. But no more kissing. That's the new deal."

"No more kissing." He couldn't stop himself from looking at her lips and remembering how they felt beneath his own, how good she tasted.

Hell, Trev knew she was right. But man, he wanted to kiss her. Wanted to do a whole lot more than kiss her.

"Deal?" Beth stuck out her hand, ready to seal the bargain.

Trev took it in a firm grasp. He forced himself not to jerk her into his arms and kiss her until she whimpered with need.

Maybe it would be better if she did leave. _Don't even think that, Callahan_. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Beth was helping him get a handle on his issues about the ranch and his grandfather. He suddenly realized that maybe he _needed_ Beth.

Damn it all to hell. Since he'd returned to the ranch, nothing had been the same. He had the sinking suspicion that nothing would ever be the same again. Especially considering the strength of the sexual current flowing from his hand to Beth's in what should have been an ordinary handshake. Was she feeling it, too?

Beth gasped and her eyes widened in surprise. She quickly withdrew her hand. "Maybe we shouldn't shake hands either."

"You got it," Trev said, unable to control the huskiness of his voice. "No touching of any kind."

Did she really believe they could keep that bargain? That proved Beth was too young, too innocent, too naive. He couldn't be in the same room with her without wanting to touch her. But if he wanted Beth to stay, somehow, some way, he would have to keep his hands to himself. Problem was, Trev had no idea if that was possible.

### CHAPTER NINE

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_. Beth gripped the wheel tightly as the bookmobile bumped along the dirt road. She'd castigated herself a thousand times over for what had occurred in Hank's study two nights ago. And what about the shaky truce she had entered into with Trevor? What had she been thinking? That was her problem. Thinking had taken a backseat ever since Trevor had shown up at the ranch.

She might as well admit it. She was weak where men were concerned. No, not all men. She'd had opportunities to date in the past few years. But no one had struck a spark and she'd figured it was a waste of time. Not worth the trouble.

Trevor Callahan sure struck sparks. Hot, incendiary sparks that set off a wildfire whenever they touched. Or didn't. Even thinking about him ignited a flame deep inside her. Oh, man. She certainly was weak where he was concerned.

Beth turned in at the Rocking C gate, passed the windmill and barns and drove toward the house. She needed to pick up a book for her afternoon route. Mr. Collins had requested one of Ray Bradbury's old novels. Beth had forgotten to grab it on her way out this morning and now she was running late. Again. As usual. Story of her life.

She parked the big van in front of the house and hesitated before climbing out. Trevor was up on the scaffolding with his shirt off. His broad shoulders gleamed with sweat. His shorts rode low on his hips and the sculpted thighs screamed power and strength. Trevor Callahan was one fine specimen of masculinity.

Look, but don't touch. That's essentially what they'd agreed upon. So why was it when something was suddenly off-limits, that's what you wanted more than anything in the world?

Beth wanted to touch. Lord, she wanted to touch. And she wanted Trevor to touch her. She couldn't sleep at night because of the erotic dreams her brain wove around him. But she'd been the one to set the limits and he had quickly agreed to the conditions. With almost embarrassing speed, she thought indignantly.

So, here she was, sitting in the bookmobile, looking at the gorgeous hunk of male with no shirt on and muscled shoulders that begged to be touched. Beth could feel the heaviness building in her belly.

She shook her head, hopped out of the van and headed for the house. If she walked fast enough, she could be in and out without having to actually speak to Trevor. Just a wave and a smile and she'd be on her way.

Ever since the night in Hank's study, they'd been tiptoeing around each other, executing the steps of an intricate dance of avoidance. If Beth wasn't one of the partners in the dance, she would be amused. But it wasn't funny to her. Not funny at all.

Beth jerked open the front door and stomped into the house. Trevor Callahan confused the hell out of her. And she was wasting way too much time thinking about the sexual attraction between them. Nothing was going to happen.

That was the least of her problems. Or should be.

The man had derailed Beth's train of thought. He'd almost made her forget that her ultimate goal was to persuade him to keep the ranch.

Trevor had been here almost two weeks and he was still determined to sell. Beth hadn't done one cotton-picking thing to make him change his mind.

She grabbed the book sitting on the library table. The table where she'd exploded in ecstasy beneath Trevor's magical hands the other night. Clutching the book to her chest, Beth took deep calming breaths. _Don't think about it. Just don't think about it._

Resolutely turning on her heel, she walked out of the study and out of the house. A glance at the scaffolding showed that Trevor wasn't there any longer. Beth quickened her step, intent on making her getaway without bumping into the man who was turning her world upside down and inside out.

She jerked open the door to the bookmobile and bit back a moan. So close. So close to making a clean getaway. She should have known better. What was Trevor doing in her bookmobile?

Beth stilled her quivering heart and climbed in. "Can I help you?" she asked, glad her voice sounded calm and normal.

Trevor shot her a look over his shoulder. A look Beth had a hard time interpreting. "Just curious. Never been in a bookmobile before. Interesting collection." He scanned the titles on the shelves.

The interior of the van was cramped. With Trevor standing in the middle, the two walls of books seemed to merge together. Thank God, he'd pulled on a shirt.

Beth stayed near the driver's seat and didn't move. As usual when she was near Trevor, all coherent thought fled her brain.

_Look, but don't touch. Well, darn. Looking never hurt anybody_. Trevor's short dark hair was spiky and wet from perspiration. The navy blue shirt clung to his sweaty body. His biceps bulged, not too much, just enough to send skitters of anticipation all through her system. A few specks of white paint played peek-a-boo beneath the black hair on his arms and legs.

The heady smell of hot male mingled with the musty odor of books. When he turned to face her, Beth's mouth went dry and her panties damp.

She cleared her throat. "It's a meager collection, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know," Trevor said. "Quality over quantity is always better."

"But less isn't always more," Beth retorted. "And in this case, more would be better." Were they still talking about books? He had that glint in his eye again. She swallowed hard.

Trevor nodded slowly. "Now I understand why you're so bound and determined to organize Hank's books and to build the new library."

Beth smiled and shrugged. "That's me. Bound and determined."

"That's a good thing, Beth. One of the things I admire most about you." His low voice stirred her blood.

She took a deep breath. "I have to get going. I'm working, you know."

Trevor started walking toward her. "I know. I need to get back to painting. But not yet."

_Say something, Beth. Anything_. "How's the painting coming along?" she managed.

He stopped in front of her, crowding her space. It was the closest they'd been since the other night. She willed herself to stand straight and not lean toward him.

"It's coming," he said. "I should finish up early next week."

Beth stared at the pocket on his shirt. "So soon? It won't be long then before you'll have everything ready to settle Hank's estate." She didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. On the one hand, the longer it took for Trevor to get things settled, the longer Beth had to stay at the ranch and try to convince him not to sell. On the other hand, the longer she stayed at the ranch, the harder it would be to resist temptation. And Trevor Callahan tempted her. Lord, how he tempted her.

He looked down at her, his gray eyes searching her face. Dear God, she couldn't find her breath.

"I can't stop thinking about Sunday night," he said, not touching her, but standing close.

Too close. Not close enough.

"Me neither," she whispered.

Trevor took hold of her shoulders and she dropped the book. She couldn't look away from Trevor's eyes. She was being swept away in a maelstrom of sensation.

He gripped a little tighter. "About that agreement we made. No kissing, no touching?"

Beth nodded. "Yes?"

"It's not going to work."

"It's not?"

"Nope. I want you. I want to kiss you and touch you."

"I want you, too," she said softly.

He gently brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "We're all wrong for each other."

"I know." Boy, did she know. But she didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to think period.

"I can't give you what you deserve, Beth."

What did he mean by that? And did she care? Not at the moment. All she cared about was being in Trevor's arms again.

"It doesn't matter." Beth grasped the front of his shirt and stood on tiptoe.

He leaned down and his warm breath grazed her lips.

"Beth, I--"

The sound of cars pulling onto the gravel drive wafted in through the bookmobile door.

"We have company." Trevor dropped soft kisses on Beth's mouth and forehead. "We'll continue this later." He quickly exited the van.

No, they wouldn't, Beth thought. She bent to retrieve the book from the floor and tried to gather her scattered emotions. She was aroused and frustrated, confused and angry with herself and Trevor. Why had he reneged on their agreement? Why had she? And did she really want to?

_Oh, she wanted_.

Beth looked out the rear window of the bookmobile. She recognized Angela Dreumont, Stone Creek's resident vamp and realtor combined. Tacky, Beth. Real tacky.

Two men in suits stood beside Angela. She had obviously brought prospective buyers for the ranch.

Well, darn. If Beth hadn't been running late, she could hang around and see what happened. But she had books to deliver. She had to leave. Now.

Beth started the engine. In her rearview mirror, she saw Angela talking animatedly to Trevor. Introducing the men. Everyone shaking hands.

Surely, it would take longer than a week and half to find a buyer for the ranch? It was too soon, wasn't it?

Maybe not. Time was running out. Beth could feel Hank's money slipping through her fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass. She could also feel the opportunity for getting closer to Trevor sliding away.

Beth groaned. She didn't know which was worse. Both scenarios left her with a heavy, sick feeling inside. She needed that money. And she was half afraid she was beginning to need Trevor Callahan, too.

****

A couple of days later, Trev found himself stuck inside the house because of a bad thunderstorm. Lightning split the dark skies and thunder crashed and shook the house. Rain pounded the roof and wind whipped around the eaves, whistling and whining.

Maggie had gone to school today. With exams over, Beth had opted not to go in to work. Instead, she was cleaning and dusting. Getting the house ready for Bonita's return, she'd said.

They were alone. Both of them were acutely conscious of that fact. The rain and gloomy darkness outside created an intimacy and feeling of isolation inside. The no-touching limitation hung over them like the black clouds of the storm. They'd been avoiding each other since early this morning.

Trev had retreated to his makeshift office in the dining room to read email and make phone calls. He'd opened the curtains so he could watch the rain. He was having trouble concentrating. He could hear Beth moving around upstairs.

That night in Hank's study still burned in his brain. His imagination had provided countless finales to the encounter, most of them involving a soft bed and Beth naked. The scene inside the bookmobile played over and over again, too. He'd been going to kiss her. And she'd been willing. But the interruption had separated them and Beth must have had second thoughts, because she had made certain they hadn't been alone again since.

Until now.

Damn, he wished it wasn't raining. He felt trapped. Felt the walls closing in on him. Felt the demons of the past lurking in the shadows. Felt his attraction for the woman upstairs growing stronger.

He needed to be outside tearing off more siding, working on the house. The hard physical labor was satisfying. The house was shaping up. He still couldn't understand why Hank had let it get so run down.

It didn't matter. Trev had two investors interested in buying the Rocking C. Everything was going as planned. He should be pleased, but for some reason it all left a sour taste in his mouth. He just couldn't figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

Trev focused his attention on replying to an email. The rain whooshed against the windows. The floor directly above him creaked. Sounded like Beth was cleaning Hank's room now.

Suddenly, he pushed back his chair and stood. There was something he couldn't put off any longer. Since his return, he hadn't stepped foot inside Hank's bedroom. He'd been everywhere else in the house. But not Hank's room. He'd put it off, stalling, delaying the moment he'd have to face the memories of the past.

Perhaps it'd be a little easier with Beth up there. Cowardly? Maybe. Or maybe he just needed a little help. Living with Beth was teaching him things.

Before he changed his mind, Trev took the stairs two at a time. Down the hall, Beth was humming. Trev slowed his pace to a walk, not stopping until he reached his grandfather's bedroom.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest. Was it apprehension or anticipation? Fear of what he was confronting? Or eagerness to be with Beth again?

Trev watched her a moment from his unobserved vantage point. She was bending over to dust the bottom shelf of a bookcase. Her sweet little butt pointed in his direction. Her short shorts bordered on the provocative; the hem rode up baring a hint of rounded bottom covered in black satin.

Trev wanted to cup the enticing flesh, knead it, feel it under his hands. He wanted to stand behind Beth and grasp her waist, pull her flush against him and grind himself into her softness. Then he'd push his hands under her shirt and touch her silky skin, all the way to the front of her body where he could caress her breasts, touch her nipples, make her moan. He'd turn her around and kiss her, back her toward the bed and--

"Trevor! What are you doing up here? You scared me half to death."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you." The erotic thoughts weighed heavy on his groin. He needed to get his mind back on track.

Trev stepped into the room. He couldn't let her know about his dread of coming in here. Admitting he was a coward to himself was one thing. Admitting it to Beth was something else entirely. "I thought I'd go through some of Hank's things while I'm stuck inside today."

"Okay." She held the feather duster before her like a shield. "And you just happened to come up here now? The same time I was cleaning in here?"

He hesitated. "Well, I--"

Beth cut him off. "It's been raining all day. I've been cleaning for hours." A frown appeared and she narrowed those green eyes at him. "Have you been in here since you came to the ranch?"

Damn, he should have known she'd zero in on his problem. Beth helped people. Fixed things. Made things better.

So let her, Callahan. What could it hurt?

"No, I haven't been in here."

The frown disappeared. Understanding shone in her eyes. "Oh, Trevor--"

He put up a hand to ward off any pity or sympathy. "I know it's foolish. Hank's dead. He can't hurt me any more."

"It's not foolish," Beth said. "It's a perfectly normal reaction. What can I do to help?"

"Keep cleaning, while I look around."

"I can do that."

"And talk to me."

"All right, I can do that, too. What do you want me to say?" She turned to the bookshelf and continued dusting.

"Tell me how everything's coming along for the Memorial Day Festival." Trev walked the perimeter of the room. Beth's low voice provided comfort and gave him courage. He didn't really listen to what she was saying. It didn't really matter.

Hank had updated the decor in his bedroom. A new bed frame of sturdy oak and wrought iron dominated the room. A leather chair stood in the corner flanked by a floor lamp and side table. Trev had a hard time picturing his grandfather in here. What a stark contrast to the previous utilitarian furnishings from Trev's youth.

Hank had obviously spent thousands of dollars refurbishing and renovating the interior of the ranch house. New paint, new wallpaper, new carpet and tile, a lot of new furniture. Every room had been updated in some way or another.

Every room except Trevor's old bedroom.

Was that one last jab from Hank? One last slap in the face? The old man had known he was dying. He'd known Trev would be forced to return to the ranch.

"Trevor? Are you listening to me?" Beth broke through his disturbing thoughts.

He took a deep breath. She was standing at the end of the bed staring at him with a worried look on her face.

"Sorry," he said. "What did you say?"

"Maybe you'd rather talk about Hank and what you're feeling right now."

"I don't think so. Tell me what you were saying before."

"O-kay," she said with a frown. "Well, I've put up posters all around town advertising the donkey basketball game. I've recruited enough players for four teams. Besides you and Dave, I have quite a line-up."

Trev stopped his tour of the room near the leather chair. Had his grandfather sat here often? And what did it matter? He glanced over his shoulder at Beth. "Who else have you coerced into playing?"

"Coerced?" She raised her chin.

He shrugged. "Strong-armed? Manipulated?"

"I didn't manipulate anyone. I asked politely and they were happy to oblige."

"Uh huh. Who's agreed to play this silly game of yours?"

"Silly game? Are you deliberately trying to push my buttons?" She crossed her arms over her chest. Her breasts strained against the thin fabric of her T-shirt.

Yeah, he'd like to push her buttons. But not the way she was implying. Hank's room was messing with his mind and emotions. "Look, this isn't easy for me, being in here. Tell me who else will be playing in the game."

She bit her bottom lip. Trev knew she wanted to ask questions and offer help. But she refrained and continued talking. "I have the mayor, the police and fire chiefs, Father Abernathy and Reverend Jones. Plus some others. I have volunteers lined up to sell tickets and work the concessions."

He whistled under his breath. "I'm impressed. You've worked hard."

Beth shrugged. "Now if only it all goes well and no one gets hurt and people show up to watch the game."

"They'll show up. You're worrying for nothing. I'm sure it'll go off without a hitch."

"I certainly hope so."

Trev picked up a leather-bound notebook from the side-table next to the chair. "What's this?"

Beth crossed the room and stood by his side. "Looks like Hank's journal."

"Hank kept a journal?" The book in his hand suddenly took on the danger of a live grenade. Full of devastating potential.

Beth nodded. "He told me he'd kept one for years and years. To record the history of the ranch, he said. There are more in the bookcase. Bottom shelf."

"I didn't know he kept a journal. I was never allowed in this room as a child."

"Never?" Beth asked.

Trev shook his head. "Only once. The first night I came to live with Hank. It was raining hard, lightning and thunder, like the storm today. Only it seemed worse. I was a little kid and I was scared."

Beth laid her hand on Trev's arm. Her fingers were warm on his skin. "What happened?" she said softly.

Thunder boomed outside echoing the distant memory of that long ago rainstorm. "What do you think happened? Hank scolded me, mocked my fears and ordered me back to my room. I decided then and there that he wasn't my real grandfather. I called him Hank from then on."

"I'm sorry."

Trev shrugged off her hand, as well as her sympathy. He didn't know why he'd told Beth about that night. He'd never told anyone before. "It doesn't matter now."

He stared at the book in his hands. What kind of surprises did it hold? What secrets did the journal keep?

"Are you going to read it?" Beth asked quietly.

"I don't know. Maybe." Trev set the book back on the table. "Not right now."

Lightning flashed brightly, followed immediately by a loud clap of thunder.

"That was close," Beth said.

"The storm's getting worse." Leo had told Trev they needed rain, but this was a little much.

Another flash of lightning, another crash of thunder. The lights went out leaving Trevor and Beth in sudden darkness. Not total darkness, but dark enough.

"Trevor?" Beth's voice squeaked and she grabbed his arm. Was she frightened or just startled?

Whatever the cause, he fought the urge to gather her close. He would not take advantage of the situation or the woman. Especially in his grandfather's bedroom.

The phone shrilled in the darkness. Beth jumped a mile high and tightened her hold on him.

"It's okay. Why don't you answer it?" Trev pried her fingers loose and walked to the window. He opened the curtains, letting a little light into the room. The phone shrilled again.

"The telephone, Beth. Answer it. I'll go find a flashlight. Stay put, until I get back."

Right, like she was going anywhere, Beth thought. It might only be late afternoon, but it was almost dark as night. Clutching the feather duster to her chest, she went over to the bedside table and picked up the phone. "Hello?" Static hissed and buzzed in her ear. It took a minute before she recognized her mother's voice.

"Hey, Mom." She glanced at the clock by the bed. Four-thirty. "Everything okay? Is Mags all right? You picked her up, right?"

"Yes, honey. I have Maggie. She's watching cartoons and eating cookies and milk. Have you been listening to the weather reports?"

"Uh, no. It's raining like crazy though. And the lights are out over here."

Trevor came back into the room, flashlight in hand. Beth watched him as she listened to her mother give her version of the weather report. He turned to the window and looked at the rain. The man wore loneliness like a cloak. He might have scads of money, but he wasn't happy. Beth wanted to wring Hank's neck for mistreating his grandson.

"Beth, are you there? Have you heard a word I've said?" her mother asked.

"Yeah, Mom. I hear you. Flash flooding and the river and creeks are up. I was so happy it was finally raining, I wasn't paying attention. I should have headed to town earlier to get Mags."

"The roads are impassable," Nancy said. "Don't you dare try to come to town. Maggie's happy and safe. She's been after me to spend the night for weeks. This is the perfect opportunity."

"Yeah, but it's a school night."

"No problem, dear. I'll make sure she gets to bed early and take her to school in the morning. Will you be okay out there alone with Trevor?"

_No!_ No she wouldn't. "Yes, of course."

"All right. Now don't worry about a thing. We'll be fine. You can see Maggie tomorrow. Bye, dear."

Beth hung up the phone. She and Trevor were going to be alone in the house tonight without Maggie acting as a buffer. All day long, she'd been aware of the fact that they were alone. Restless with the knowledge. Now, in the darkness, with it raining outside, it would only be worse.

She glanced at Trevor. He'd picked up Hank's journal again.

"Maggie okay?" He kept his attention on the book.

"Yes. She'll be spending the night with my mother."

"That's probably best," he said. "If the power doesn't come back on, it could get pretty hot without the air conditioner. Not conducive to a good night's sleep."

The words-- _night and sleep and hot_ \--hung in the air between them, conjuring images of sleek sweaty bodies tangled in the sheets. The big double bed loomed in the shadows. Rain pummeled the roof. Trevor looked at Beth for a long drawn-out minute, his eyes hooded. Beth's breath stopped and her heart hammered in her chest.

Lightning flashed again; thunder reverberated through the house. Beth wasn't usually frightened of storms, but the ferocity of this one was making her nervous. Not to mention the prospect of spending the night alone with Trevor Callahan.

"Let's go downstairs," he said. Before she could reply, he took her elbow and guided her toward the door, shining the flashlight to guide the way. Beth shivered.

"You cold?"

"No." Far from it.

"Scared of storms?"

"No." Thunder shook the house again and she flinched. "Okay, maybe a little. But only when they're right on top of me like this one is."

Trevor didn't say anything more as he led her to the kitchen. They stopped by the center island, between the sinks and stove, but he didn't release her elbow. "You wouldn't happen to know where another flashlight would be, would you? And maybe some candles?"

"Bonita keeps supplies in the pantry. I'll get them." Beth tried to loosen his hold on her, but he didn't let go. Instead, he turned her to face him.

The rain poured down outside the window, a gray curtain of water. The beam from the flashlight cast flickering shadows all around them.

Beth looked up at Trevor's face. His rugged features were softened by the dimness. His deep-set eyes glinted silver. He slid his hand from her elbow and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. His fingers lingered on her skin. She wanted to lean into the caress. She wanted him to kiss her.

A clap of thunder crashed outside. Beth moved closer to Trevor. She wanted his arms around her. Wanted to feel his power and strength. She wanted him to protect her.

What the heck was the matter with her? Beth didn't need a man's protection. She didn't need a man's strength either. She'd been doing fine on her own, damn it. She was not going to give in to the moment. She pushed away from Trevor.

"Beth?" His deep voice sent slivers of desire raging through her bloodstream.

She stepped quickly away. Away from the lust and the lure of Trevor Callahan.

Another boom of thunder made her jump. She gripped the counter top and bit back a moan.

"You all right?" Trevor asked.

Beth heard the concern in his voice. She forced a smile. "I don't know what's wrong. I'm usually not such a ninny."

"Sit down. I'll get the flashlight and candles." He helped her to a chair and dropped a gentle kiss on top of her head. "I'll be right back."

He took the light with him, leaving Beth alone in the growing darkness. No, she usually didn't act like a ninny. She prided herself on her calmness. But she'd never been stranded alone with a man before. An extremely good-looking man. One she had the hots for. One who felt the same way about her. Beth had a feeling it was going to be a long, long night. And not in a good way.

### CHAPTER TEN

Trev rummaged around in the pantry, searching for the candles, trying not to think about the woman sitting out there in the kitchen waiting for his return. Beth was obviously nervous about the storm. And probably being alone together in the house was giving her the jitters, too. He could relate to that.

He pointed the beam of light over the shelves, back and forth, until he spotted the candles, a lighter and another flashlight. He gathered them up, then did one more sweep of the shelves and found something that might help calm them both.

"Success," he called, emerging from the pantry with his booty. He dumped everything on the table and shoved the flashlight at Beth. "Here, hold this while I light the candles."

She held the light with one hand and picked up a canister with the other. "What's this?" She pointed the light to the label. "Hot cocoa? You want hot cocoa in the middle of May? We're in a thunderstorm not a blizzard."

Trev set the candles on the table. "You do have a smart mouth, don't you?"

She shrugged and grinned. Damn, he liked it when she grinned. "I can't help it," she said. "So, what's with the cocoa? Wouldn't wine be a better choice? We _are_ adults, you know."

"Don't remind me." Her eyes widened and she looked away, but not before he detected a blush visible even in the dim light. Beth was sexy and adorable. A dangerous combination. "Maybe later we'll have some wine," he said. On second thought, that might not be a good idea.

Trev grabbed the lighter and pushed a candle to the center of the table. "When I was a kid, Bonita made hot cocoa for me during bad storms."

Beth turned back toward him and helped arrange the other candles. "Because you were scared?"

"Yeah. The cocoa made me feel better. I thought it might help you, since you're so jumpy."

Trev lit four candles and set them around the kitchen. Then he came back to the table for the cocoa. "Luckily, we have a gas stove. I'll find a pan and get the milk. It won't take long."

"Trevor?"

"Hmm?" He searched the cabinets for a saucepan, set it on the stove, then got the milk from the fridge.

She didn't say anything. The silence behind him grew thick. He turned toward Beth and nearly keeled over.

_Aw, hell._ He was in trouble. She was looking at him with shining eyes. Good God, he hoped she wasn't going to cry.

Several wisps of hair had come loose from her ponytail. The candlelight picked out glistening highlights of ruby-red in the curly tresses. Her smooth skin glowed luminescent in the gold shimmering light. She literally took his breath away. He wanted her so much his teeth hurt. Probably from clenching them so tightly. He hurt down south, too. Aching and throbbing.

Damn.

Trev cleared his throat. He was trying to be a gentleman, but he could feel his control slipping. "Something wrong?"

She frowned. "You're being nice to me. You said you're never nice. You lied, didn't you?"

"I didn't lie." Nice wasn't how he'd describe himself. He didn't do nice. Usually. But he'd been doing a lot of things differently these past couple of weeks. Everything seemed ass-backward since he'd met Beth.

Trev prepared the cocoa and set the pan over a low flame, stirring so it wouldn't scorch. He kept his back to Beth. They had an agreement about no kissing and no touching. He'd stepped over the line that day in the bookmobile. Ever since, Beth had silently redrawn the boundaries. And he hadn't pushed to cross over.

The cocoa simmered on the stove. The dark house and pouring rain cut them off from the outside world. The intimacy of the situation was getting to him. Trev was afraid he'd forget his resolve and the self-imposed boundaries. He was afraid he'd forget how much he liked and respected Beth Evans. Afraid if they kissed again, he wouldn't be able to hold back.

"If you didn't lie, why are you being so nice to me?" Her low throaty voice slid over him.

_Because he wanted her in his bed?_ It was more than physical and that scared the hell out of him.

"Let's just say I'm usually not nice, end of discussion. Okay?" He poured cocoa in two mugs and set them on the table. "No marshmallows, but it should do the trick." God, he hoped it would perform magic and calm his runaway libido.

Beth took a sip and smiled. "It's perfect. Thanks." She licked the chocolate mustache from her top lip.

Trev followed the movement of her tongue. Oh, yeah. He was definitely hurting below the belt. She was killing him. Beth was both innocent and tempting. Strong and vulnerable. An intriguing combination of youth and experience. He'd never met anyone like her before. Never wanted anyone like he wanted her.

"Aren't you going to drink your cocoa?" Beth took another sip. "It's good." She licked her lip again.

Trev gripped his mug tightly. Damn, she was sexy without even trying. All his good intentions were being shot straight to hell.

He took a drink and watched her over the rim of his mug. Beth's beautiful eyes held wariness and caution, as well as yearning. He knew without a shadow of doubt that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He thought he might die if he didn't kiss her again soon.

A loud knock rattled the back door, causing them both to jump. _Thank you, God_. Trev bolted out of his chair and jerked open the door. Leo stood on the threshold in a yellow rain slicker.

"Come on in," Trev said.

"Sorry to bother you, son. Ma'am." He tipped his head and water trickled on the floor. "You gotta come to the barn, boy. Thunder's layin' down in his stall."

"His stall?" Trev asked. "I thought he stayed out in the pasture."

"Usually, he does," Leo said. "But he came up to the corral this morning, I guess to get out of the rain. He was acting mighty strange and I put him in a stall. Rubbed him down, gave him some feed. He didn't eat much and just sort of stood there quiet-like. So I let him be."

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" Trev's gut twisted in a knot. He knew Thunder was old, but damn, he'd just found him again.

"It's been raining buckets and I've had my hands full. Anyways, I'm telling you now. Thunder's in his stall and he don't look none too good."

"Have you called the vet?" Beth asked. She came to stand next to Trev.

Leo nodded. "I called, but the doc cain't come out. The roads are too muddy. We don't get much rain here, but when we do, it pours. Son, you brought Thunder into this world. Seems to me you ought to be there when he leaves it."

"It's that bad?"

"I'm going to have to put him down. You coming?"

The knot in Trev's gut twisted tighter. "I'll get a slicker and meet you out there."

"Hurry, there's no time to waste." Leo hunched his shoulders and disappeared into the torrent of rain.

Trev closed the door and turned to Beth. "I don't know how long this will take. You going to be okay, here in the dark?"

"I'm coming with you."

"You don't need to." But for some reason, he wanted her to go with him. He wanted her by his side as he faced whatever had to be faced.

"I'm going." She laid a hand on his arm. "I can't let you do this alone."

A warm feeling of relief flooded through him. "Thanks," he said. Later, he would analyze what it all meant. But not now. Not now.

****

It was close to midnight when Trevor and Beth trudged back to the house. The thunder and lightning had moved off to the distance; the rain had eased to a steady drizzle.

The electricity was still out. Trev lit the candles again around the kitchen. Beth plunked down in a chair and he collapsed in one next to her. He felt numb and drained.

_Thunder was dead_.

A little over a week ago, Trev hadn't known the horse was still at the ranch. Hadn't thought about it really, one way or another. But finding out Hank had kept Thunder all these years had made Trevor acknowledge feelings he'd buried deep inside.

Beth picked up her cup of cocoa and scrunched her nose in disgust. "Want me to make a new batch?"

"I need something stronger." He needed something to warm the frozen wasteland of his soul.

Beth scraped back her chair and stood. "How about bourbon?"

Trev grabbed her wrist as she started past. "How about you?"

" _Me_?"

"I . . . Just let me hold you a minute." He needed her comforting touch. Trev pulled her down on his lap and wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in the crook between her shoulder and neck. He breathed in her soft scent. Damn, he felt like crying. He hadn't cried since his parents had died.

Slowly, tentatively, Beth's arms came around him; one hand gently cradled the back of his head. Trev tightened his grip. The world as he knew it was changing. Too fast. Hank was dead and now Thunder was, too. Trev's feelings and emotions were all jumbled. His feelings for Beth were changing. He was starting to realize it was more than physical. He didn't want it to be more than physical.

"It's okay," Beth said softly. He felt her lips on his hair, the strength of her embrace. "Everything's going to be okay."

He raised his head and looked deeply into her eyes. She moved her hand from his hair and touched his cheek. Fire ignited in his belly. Trev slowly turned his head and kissed her palm. Beth's breath shuddered. She didn't jerk her hand away, but instead, rubbed her finger over his lips. Back and forth, back and forth.

Beth's soft bottom rested on his growing hardness. Trev wanted her with a yearning so intense, so fierce and unbridled, it left him shaking. He'd sought Beth's healing touch, her comfort, her warmth. Somehow, it had morphed into a burning, churning passion.

"Beth . . ." His voice was ragged with suppressed desire.

"Shhh." She leaned forward and touched her lips to his in a gentle kiss. He'd never tasted anything as sweet and hot as Beth's mouth. He wanted more. Needed more.

He fisted one hand in her hair, angled her head and plunged his tongue deeper. She responded with a fervor that put a stranglehold on his groin. She wiggled on his lap and he gripped her thighs to still the movement before he lost complete control.

She pulled back and stared at him, her eyes glazed, her breath rasping in her lungs.

"I want you, Beth."

"I want you, too."

"I don't do happy-ever-after," he warned.

She hesitated for a bare second, then lifted her chin. "Maybe I don't want happy-ever-after."

"Yes, you do." He rubbed his hands over her thighs, reveling in the feel of her beneath his fingers.

Her shoulders sagged. "You're right. I do."

Disappointment tugged low in his gut. Trev eased Beth off his lap and set her in her own chair. "Of course, you do. You deserve a happy-ever-after."

Again, the barest hesitation. "Yes, I do," she said. "And I intend to have it. But not necessarily with you."

"What do you mean by that?"

She bit her bottom lip. Trev wanted to soothe it with his tongue, take it in his mouth and suck gently, suck hard. He needed to taste her sweetness again. He sat back in his chair. He was trying to do the right thing here. He was trying to abide by their agreement. Taking Beth to bed was not a smart thing to do. But God, he needed her. Needed the comfort and warmth of her body.

"Look," Beth said. "I confused lust for love once before, but I'm older now. I won't get them mixed up again. I haven't been attracted to anyone since before Mags was born." She paused and took a deep breath. "I'm not very experienced. You might be disappointed."

He nearly choked. "You can't be serious. After what happened the other night in Hank's study? After what happened just now? You won't disappoint me, sweetheart. I can promise you that, at least." He scooted his chair closer and rubbed his knuckles gently across her cheek. "I don't want to hurt you, Beth."

"You won't hurt me," she whispered. "I want this. I want you."

"Are you sure?" He held his breath.

When she nodded, Trev let it out in a whoosh. He stood and offered his hand. Beth took it and he hauled her out of her chair and pulled her against him. She felt soft and firm and wonderful in his arms. "God, you don't know how much I want this." He kissed her forehead, her nose, the corners of her mouth. Beth shivered deliciously in response to his touch.

Trev covered her mouth, intending another tender kiss. But the kiss turned savage and all coherent thoughts exited his brain. All that mattered was Beth, in his arms, kissing him back with an intensity that left no doubt where this would end.

She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Every touch of her fingers stoked the fire building inside him. She tasted so sweet, so hot. He was burning up.

_Slow down_. He needed to slow down or he was going to set her on the table and take her right here, right now.

She finished with the buttons and fanned her fingers across his chest, almost eroding his control to breaking point.

He hurriedly shrugged out of the shirt and let it fall to the floor. Beth rubbed her hands over his chest, tangling her fingers in the short hair, kissing his collarbone.

Trev swallowed a groan. He undid her ponytail and buried his fingers in the glorious curls. Beth wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed her way up his neck to his mouth again. Their tongues mated. He tightened his grip on her and plunged deeper into her moist warm mouth.

Beth's kisses were addictive. He had to have more. He brushed a hand over her breast and she moaned into his mouth. Bare skin. He had to touch her bare skin.

He pulled back and fingered the hem of her shirt. She nodded and he quickly slipped the T-shirt over her head, revealing a black lace bra. He remembered her black satin panties from this afternoon and wanted to see them. Hell, he wanted all her clothes off. Right now.

Beth hooked her arms around Trev's neck and latched onto his mouth again. He pulled her close so her breasts rubbed against his chest. He grasped her bottom and ground his arousal into her softness.

She sucked his tongue and he nearly lost it. Damn, if he didn't slow things down, it was going to be over before it got good and started. Trev wanted it to last and last. Beth's reservations had disappeared, replaced with a wild abandon he'd only dreamed about.

Trev clasped Beth's shoulders and held her body away from his. They were both breathing heavily. Her green eyes blazed with passion. He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes falling to her beautiful breasts. He couldn't resist touching them. He eased back the lacy cups of the bra and brushed his thumbs over the taut nipples. Beth's breath hissed in a sharp inhale.

"We need to take this upstairs," he said, stroking her soft flesh. "We need a bed."

"A bed sounds good." Beth arched into his caress and ran her hands down his biceps. She tiptoed and gave him another quick kiss, then let go. She picked up both their shirts and stood there clutching them to her breasts.

With her eyes opened wide and her hair tumbling to her shoulders, Beth suddenly looked vulnerable and very young.

_Damn_.

"We don't have to do this, Beth. I want you to be sure. There's no turning back. Make absolutely certain this is what you want, because this is all I can give you."

Beth took his hand in hers. She kissed his knuckles one by one and smiled at him through her lashes. Oh, man, he was a goner. He was toast. He was in so much trouble. But he didn't care. He wanted Beth. He needed Beth.

"I'm sure, Trevor. I'm very, very sure."

Trev grabbed the flashlight and handed it to Beth, then picked up two candles and the lighter. "Lead the way, sweetheart."

The house was dark. It wasn't raining as hard as before, but the sound of water running off the roof into the gutters was loud in the hushed atmosphere surrounding them.

Beth's heart pounded in her throat as she walked through the hallway and mounted the stairs. She felt self-conscious with her shirt off, with Trevor right behind her, half-dressed. She'd never done this kind of thing before. Well, technically she had. But she'd been a lot younger and she'd thought she'd been in love.

She wasn't in love this time. It was lust. And comfort. Trevor needed her. He'd been through an emotional ordeal losing Thunder. And if Beth could ease his pain a little . . . She cared for him, but it wasn't love, she assured herself. She would keep things simple. Nothing wrong in giving in to the powerful chemistry sizzling between her and Trevor Callahan. She wanted this. She wanted Trevor to make love to her.

Okay, it wouldn't really be making love. It would be sex, just unadulterated sex.

At the top of the stairs, Beth stopped. His bed or hers?

Trevor nudged her forward. "My room," he whispered, his hot breath scorching her ear.

The beam of light illuminated Trevor's bedroom. Whenever Beth cleaned in here, she wondered why Hank had left his grandson's room untouched. It looked like a shrine.

"Help me light the candles," Trevor said. "Shine the light over here."

He stood at the bedside table. Beth tossed the shirts on a chair and aimed the beam of light. Trevor lit the candles, took the flashlight from Beth and snapped it off. He set it on the table, then gathered her in his arms.

The candles flickered in the darkness. Beth had vacuumed and dusted Trevor's room earlier in the day. She'd imagined being with him like this. When she'd made the bed, erotic images had flitted through her mind. Now, her fantasy was playing out. It was coming true and going be real.

"Beth, you sure you're okay with this?" Trevor asked. "We can still stop if you want."

She searched his handsome face. "You're being nice again."

"I want this to be good for you." He touched his lips to hers. He was so strong, yet tender at the same time. And he tasted so good. A hint of chocolate. A lot of him. Irresistible. Decadent. Delicious.

"It is good," she said. "More than good." Her knees wobbled, but Trevor kept her standing upright. He deepened the kiss and she felt the hooks of her bra give way. Trevor eased the straps from her shoulders, tracing his fingers down her arms. She shrugged the bra off and her nipples tightened. Anticipation had her panting for breath. She wanted to feel Trevor's hands on her. She wanted him to touch her all over.

He held her away from him a bit. "Beautiful." He bent and took her right nipple in his mouth and suckled. Sharp shards of pleasure radiated to Beth's core.

She held Trevor's head to her breast, her hands on his hair and neck. She loved the feel of his short hair beneath her fingers. Loved the feel of his mouth moving exquisitely over her bare skin.

He cupped her left breast in his big hand, callused but not too rough. He rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, keeping time to the rhythm of his mouth on the other.

Beth's body throbbed in response. The steady beat of rain tapped on the roof. Candle shadows danced on the walls. Trevor's aftershave smelled musky, sexy.

A sweet, languor stole over her, making her bones feel like mush. Her head tilted, her back arched. She thrust her breasts upward, seeking more pressure, more pleasure, more everything from Trevor's hot lips.

He sucked harder and Beth nearly collapsed on the floor. Trevor supported her with his free hand on the small of her back, urging her to arch even more. He kissed his way to the other breast and licked and sucked. Beth gripped his head tightly. She couldn't stand it. Just when she thought she was going to explode, Trev moved downward, his mouth leaving a wet hot path on her stomach.

"Trevor, I need to sit or lie down . . . I can't stand any longer."

"All right." He kissed her belly button, then pushed her toward the bed and eased her down. He unfastened her sandals, grasping her ankles and rubbing her feet. He kneaded the arches and she moaned.

"Feel good?" He held both feet to his chest, massaging them with clever fingers.

"Oh, yeah," Beth said. "Wonderful, in fact." After a minute or two, she pulled her feet from his grasp. She leaned back on the bed and lifted her arms to him.

Trevor didn't miss a beat. His eyes gleamed beneath heavy lids as he removed his shoes and socks. His hands went to his belt and he slowly unbuckled it, his gaze never wavering from Beth's. He slid the zipper down and in one smooth motion, shucked his pants and briefs.

Beth's breath caught in her lungs. The man was beautiful. Big and beautiful. And tonight, he was all hers. She wanted him. And he wanted her. There was no hiding that fact.

He stood there looking at her. His big muscled body made Beth feel small and feminine. His obvious desire made her mouth go dry.

Trevor knelt on the bed, unbuttoned her shorts, peeled them and her panties down her legs and dropped both on the floor. He leaned toward the bedside table, opened the drawer and took out a box of condoms.

"You always travel with those?" Beth watched him open the box and take out a couple of square packets, placing them within easy reach.

"I like to be prepared in case something comes up." He smiled wickedly as he braced himself over her. He was smiling a lot more lately. And it made her insides all trembly.

"I'm glad," she said softly, "because something's definitely come up." Reaching down, she wrapped her fingers around him and stroked his firm jutting flesh.

He growled deep in his throat and jerked her to him, crushing her breasts to his chest. He covered her mouth in a hot brutal kiss, plunging his tongue inside and thrusting his arousal against her hand.

Beth gloried in the sensations swirling inside and out. He felt like velvet and steel, heat and passion, want and need.

Trevor slid his hand between them and cupped her, brushing his fingers through her curls, slipping a finger inside her body, moving it in and out, in and out.

Beth tightened her hold on him and he froze.

Clamping a strong hand around her wrist, he moved it away from his body. "As incredible as that feels, I think you'd better stop."

"Oh?" Beth smiled a sultry temptress's smile.

Trev pushed her into the mattress, covering the length of her body with his and kissing her with renewed fervor.

She felt perfect beneath him, better than he'd imagined. Their bodies complemented each other, like they were meant to fit together and be one. His arousal pushed between the juncture of her thighs, her firm breasts rubbed against his chest.

Trev moved over her, imitating what they were about to do. He kissed her throat, her collarbone, her shoulder. He felt Beth's fingers on the back of his neck playing with the hair at his nape. When she trailed a hot path across his skin and rubbed his earlobes, a tortuous pleasure shot to his groin, making him swell even harder against her softness.

He wanted to make Beth shatter in orgasm again, like she'd done in Hank's study. Except this time, they would complete the act and Trev would feel her contract around him as he exploded inside her.

Kissing his way to her breasts, he teased the rosy nipples until they puckered and tightened. He laved his tongue around and around the areolas and beneath the rounded curves, then back up to the nipples. He lingered above the sensitive buds, blowing his hot breath over them, kneading the soft flesh, squeezing and pushing the nipples close to his lips.

Beth wiggled on the bed, arching high, trying to reach his mouth, moaning her need. "Please, Trevor. Please."

"What do you want, Beth? Tell me what you want." He flicked his tongue lightly over one nipple, then the other. He blew again and nestled his face in the valley of her breasts, kissing and licking hard.

"I want . . ." She groaned when he reached down and brushed his fingers against her aroused flesh.

"Is this what you want?" He rubbed her soft curls again and Beth bucked under his fingers. Trev couldn't remember another woman being so honestly responsive to his touch. He couldn't remember any woman wanting him and not his money. Beth wanted him, just him. Just Trevor.

"Yes . . . I want . . ." She thrashed her head back and forth against the covers, lifting her bottom, seeking more. "I want you," she said. "I need you inside me. Hurry, Trevor."

"Not yet, sweetheart. Not yet." He plunged his finger deep inside her and she whimpered. She was hot and wet and the sexy sound almost made him explode. He took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked hard. At the same time, he rubbed her most sensitive flesh with soft feathery strokes.

Beth almost came off the bed. She groaned in pleasure. Trev moved lower and gave her the most intimate kiss of all. She tasted of woman and sex. _And Beth_.

She screamed his name and her body convulsed in orgasm. "Trevor! I want you inside of me! _Now!_ " She reached down and took hold of him. Stroked him. Cupped him.

Trev grabbed a condom, ripped open the package and sheathed himself. He rose above Beth, his arms bracing his weight and in one swift thrust, he was inside her magnificent heat and dampness. The aftershocks of her climax milked his last reserves of control.

She wrapped her long legs around his waist and rocked against him. He pushed in and out, in and out, deeper and deeper. He withdrew only to plunge back inside until he was buried to the hilt. Again and again, bare skin slapped against bare skin.

Beth's breasts mesmerized him as they jiggled with the movement of his thrusts. He bowed his back and bent to kiss one, then the other. He straightened until he was kneeling, took hold of her thighs and spread her legs wide, still rocking against her. With eyes locked on hers, he licked the pad of his thumb and touched her, rubbing swiftly and softly, round and round.

Beth's climax was instantaneous and powerful. The strong contractions brought Trev down on top of her again. He ground himself against her, in her, striving to become one with her.

Beth smoothed her hands over his jaws and looked at him through passion-glazed eyes. When she smiled, Trev was lost. One more thrust threw him over the edge and into oblivion.

****

Sex had never been this good, Trev thought. Never. Blood thrummed in his head as he came back to earth after a heart-stopping, earth-shattering orgasm, the likes of which he'd never experienced before.

He was still lying on top of Beth, his head resting above her shoulder on the pillow. She hadn't murmured a protest, so he guessed she didn't mind. He lacked the energy to ask if he was too heavy. In a minute, he would move. He needed a little time to regain his equilibrium. And the use of his body. Right now, he was paralyzed with pleasure.

"Wow," Beth said. "That was . . . amazing." She raked her nails lazily back and forth across his shoulder blades. "Truly absolutely amazing."

"Mm-hm." Trev couldn't speak yet. He felt Beth's heart rapidly beating under his chest and her warm body cradling him.

"I guess I was worried for nothing," she said. Her fingers slow danced back up to the nape of his neck, leaving a tingling sensation in every nerve ending.

"You were worried?" He still couldn't lift his head.

Beth nodded. He felt the movement next to him on the pillow. "About my inexperience? Remember?"

"Sweetheart, I can't remember my telephone number right now." He kissed her collarbone.

"So, it was good for you, too?" she asked.

Trev raised himself on his elbows and kissed her nose. Her gorgeous green eyes held worry and vulnerability. Even though Beth had been married and had a child, she was a neophyte when it came to sexual experience, which was fine by him. He felt an overwhelming sense of possessiveness and protectiveness wash through him. "You were good, Beth. Wonderful. Mind-blowing, in fact."

Beth draped her arms around his neck. Pulled him in for a long, lingering kiss. "Thanks. You were pretty terrific, yourself."

"You liked it, huh?" He moved his lower body against her suggestively. To his surprise, he felt himself grow hard again.

"I liked it all right. I can't wait to see more." She answered his moves with some of her own and smiled a megawatt smile that sucker-punched him in the gut.

"You don't have to wait," he said.

"Really? That's good." She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in deeper.

Trev kissed her hard, almost savagely. And she kissed him back just as hard, just as savagely.

Damn, he had it bad. When he could think straight again, he'd have to assess for damages. Because Trev had the sinking suspicion that Beth Evans had resurrected his so-called non-existent heart and laid siege to his soul. He was scared there was nothing he could do about it. Scarier still, he was afraid he didn't want to try.

****

After they made love again, Beth lay on the bed with Trevor, her head resting on his chest, his heart beating in her ear. "The rain's finally stopped."

"Mmm." He pulled her tighter against him.

Beth nestled closer. She refused to have any regrets. She'd deal with the aftermath later. "How long do you think before the lights come back on? It's getting hot in here."

A chuckle rumbled deep in his throat and he kissed the top of her head. "I don't think it's hot in here because the air-conditioner is off." The man had a self-satisfied tone in his voice that made Beth's heart happy knowing she had a part in putting it there. Gone for the moment was the sadness that had shrouded him since they'd witnessed Thunder being put down.

Beth lifted her head and looked at him. "You think we generated all this heat?"

He smiled. "Oh, yeah. Most definitely."

She loved it when Trevor smiled. It was such a rare occurrence, but lately it was happening more often. His smiles made her blood hum and her heart turn over.

Careful, Beth. Gotta keep it simple. Enjoy the moment and don't confuse the issue.

She scrunched her nose at Trevor. "Seriously, aren't you hot? I sure am hot."

"Sweetheart, you are most definitely hot." Trev ran his hand over her waist, down her bare hip and thigh. Beth shivered and hiked her leg higher across his body.

"What are you going to do about it?" she asked. Being with Trevor made her feel bold and a little bit naughty.

He smiled a slow sexy smile. Different from the amused version and much more potent. "I can think of a couple of things."

Before Beth could respond, Trevor flipped her on her back and covered her body with his. He grasped her hands, lifted them above her head, and held them there while he rocked his lower body against her. Suggestively. Sensuously. Deliciously.

She swallowed a moan. Just like that, the fire burned again. But this was a slow burn. Trevor entered her with excruciating tenderness. He nibbled behind her ear and down her throat, over her collarbone and in the hollow under her arm. Every inch of skin came alive.

Beth gave herself up to the sensations, focusing on Trevor's caresses and kisses. Loving the feel of his muscled body weighing her down on the mattress. Trusting him enough to enjoy the pseudo-bondage of being held captive and letting him have his wicked way with her.

After the passion was spent and they lay panting for breath, Beth silently repeated her mantra over and over to herself: _Keep it simple. Keep it simple. Keep it simple_.

### CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Memorial Day Festival was in full swing. Beth looked around the high school gym and breathed a huge sigh of relief. The bleachers were packed with enthusiastic spectators. The T-shirts had sold out in fifteen minutes and the concessions were selling like crazy. There was still a line of people waiting to buy tickets for the donkey basketball game.

The tantalizing smells of popcorn, nachos and hot dogs floated on the air and the gym reverberated with lively tunes played by the Stone Creek high school marching band. The crowd buzzed with excitement and anticipation.

"Mommy! Mommy! Look what Nana bought me." Maggie ran toward Beth, dragging her grandmother and grandfather along behind her.

"That's a cool balloon, pumpkin." Beth turned and smiled at her parents. "Hey, Mom. Dad. Thanks for watching Mags today."

"Our pleasure," Nancy said. "Looks like quite a crowd, dear."

Warren Prescott beamed. "I'm not surprised. Our Bethie knows how to organize and get things done."

"Thanks, Dad. I'll tell you a secret though. I was worried about how this would go over."

"Well, it's gone over big," Warren said. "You'll make a tidy little sum for the library today."

"I hope so." Beth glanced at her watch. "Y'all better go find a place in the stands. I'll see you in a few minutes." She bent down and kissed Mags. "Be good for Nana and Pawpaw."

"She's always good," Nancy said.

"I'm going to cheer for Trevor's team," Maggie said. "I sure hope he wins."

"Come along, sweet cakes. Let's go find our seats." Warren hoisted his granddaughter to his shoulders, where she could ride and see everything better.

Mags laughed with delight. "Look, Mommy! Look at me!"

"Hold on tight, baby."

"I will. Don't worry."

Beth watched all three of them disappear into the crowd. After thirty years of marriage, her parents still held hands at gatherings like this. She hoped one day to find that kind of love. A love so strong and true that there was no doubt, no confusion, no misgivings.

Beth wished she could trust her feelings for Trevor. She was desperately trying to keep things simple, but her heart was refusing to cooperate. She shook her head. Better go outside and check on the players. See if everything was okay.

She tried to ignore the little thump in her chest that came from knowing Trevor would be out there, too. She hadn't seen him since early this morning when she'd left his bed. She blushed when she thought of the nights she'd spent in Trevor's arms since last Thursday. They were always careful to wait until Mags was asleep before indulging in mind-boggling sex.

Oh, yeah. Beth was definitely having a difficult time keeping her emotions in check. It was easy to say it was only sex, but her heart kept insisting it was more.

Trevor had warned her he had nothing to give. Beth knew he was wrong. He had so much to offer. He said he had no heart, but he was so kind to Mags. He said he never helped anyone, yet he'd helped Beth in many ways, from cooking dinner to agreeing to play in the game today.

He believed women only liked him for his money. That one made Beth feel a little guilty. She wanted Hank's money for the library, but she didn't think she was going to get it. She was afraid when the will was read, Trevor would feel betrayed. Maybe she should tell him about Hank's bequest. Try to explain. But she'd promised the old man she wouldn't tell.

Good lord, what had happened to keeping things simple?

Beth pushed open the gym doors leading outside and smiled at the organized chaos. The Slam-Donkey Company had hauled the animals to Stone Creek in a big air-conditioned trailer. There seemed to be donkeys all over the place outside the school--she counted twelve and there were more in the trailer.

"Hey, Beth! Over here." Gloria Jamail stood in the middle of the parking lot, handing out helmets to the players.

Beth looked around for Trevor as she walked over to join Gloria. Her friend shot her a knowing look. "He's over there with Dave. The ref's explaining the rules to them."

Stone Creek's mayor stepped up ready to claim his helmet. "Well, Beth. Looks like you've done it again," he said. "This fund-raiser should help you get that new library built."

"We have a long way to go," Beth said. "I still want a bond proposal on the ballot in the next election. This town deserves a large modern library. Especially with so many people moving here to retire."

The mayor shook his head and smiled. "You never pass up an opportunity, do you? Tell you what. Come to the next council meeting and we'll see what we can do."

Beth smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Nichols. I'll do that."

Gloria issued the last of the helmets and Beth greeted and thanked some of the players, wishing them good luck with the game. She didn't get a chance to speak to Trevor, but when she caught his eye, he winked. Her stomach dipped in response. She gave him a thumbs-up for good luck.

Gloria nudged Beth with her elbow as they followed the players and donkeys into the gym. "Want to tell me what's going on between you two? And don't you dare say 'nothing.'"

Beth shrugged. "It's not serious, if that's what you mean. We're enjoying each other's company while he's at the ranch. That's all."

"Oh, really?" Gloria grinned. "So you decided to take my advice, huh?"

"Don't sound so pleased with yourself." Beth led the way to the bleachers. "Save me a place, will you? Near my mom and dad, if possible. I'm going to check on the concession stands. Want anything?"

Gloria dug in her pocket for money. "Get me a Diet Coke and a bag of peanuts."

"Will do."

When Beth returned to the gym, she searched the stands for Gloria. Her friend stood in the center section, waving both hands in the air to get her attention. Beth climbed the bleachers, careful not to spill the drinks, popcorn and peanuts. She settled beside her parents, next to Gloria. On the row in front, Mags sat with Shana and the other Jamail children.

"Look, Mommy. There's Trevor." Maggie pointed to the far side of the gym.

"And my daddy, too," Shana said. "He looks funny in that hat. The donkeys look funny with those little booties on their feet."

"That's to protect the gym floor," Maggie said.

"Be quiet, girls," Gloria scolded. "They're about to start."

The band finished their last song and the announcer's voice echoed through the gym. "Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! The Slam Donkey Company proudly presents a one-of-a-kind, totally awesome sporting event for your entertainment pleasure."

Beth couldn't keep her eyes off Trevor, standing tall and handsome despite the protective headgear.

"The players and donkeys will play two games," the announcer continued. "We have four teams made up of prominent citizens of this wonderful community and our specially trained basketball-playing donkeys."

Gloria leaned toward Beth. "He's laying it on thick, isn't he?"

"Shhh, that's part of the show." Beth wondered how Trevor felt being lumped together with the prominent citizens of Stone Creek. He was so adamant about selling the ranch. And when he did, she would never see him again.

The announcer introduced the players and donkeys by name and explained the rules. "And now, are you ready to have some fun?" he asked the audience.

The band started a drum roll and the crowd yelled "Yes!"

"Are you ready to see some action?"

"Yes!"

"Then, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! Let the games begin!"

"Finally," Gloria whispered. "Looks like Trevor and Dave aren't playing in the first game."

Beth nodded. "That's probably good. They'll get to see how it works, pick up a few pointers."

"Yeah, this should be hilarious," Gloria said. "I mean how many of these guys have ever ridden a donkey? Outside, they were saying that some of the donkeys will suddenly stop and refuse to move, or buck off their riders."

A cold sliver of apprehension slid down Beth's spine. "I sure hope no one gets hurt."

Gloria patted her arm. "You worry too much. Everything will be fine."

Beth shrugged. "We're about to find out."

As the game commenced, some of the players passed the ball back and forth, while others tried to make their donkeys move around the court. A few had a hard time staying seated. The crowd roared with laughter when one donkey toppled the police chief onto his backside. Thank goodness he wasn't injured, and the look on his face was priceless. Beth sat back and relaxed. This _was_ going to be fun.

****

Trev was not having fun. He wondered, not for the first time this Memorial Day weekend, what the hell had come over him to agree to participate in this silly game. Beth Evans. That's what had come over him. And under him. And beside him. The new sexual turn their relationship had taken was great, but it was making everything even more complicated and confusing. She was driving him certifiably insane.

The woman had worked her way past his defenses. The kid too. Damn, he was going to miss them when he left Stone Creek. He was beginning to think he didn't want to leave.

Oh yeah, Callahan. Certifiably insane, for damn sure.

After standing on the sidelines watching the first game for almost an hour, it was finally time for Trev to play. He hoped like hell he didn't make a complete fool of himself. And he hoped to God he could remember he was playing with a team. He'd always had trouble with that concept.

Dave stood beside him, adjusting his helmet. "Ready, buddy?"

Trev grimaced. "Yeah, ready to get even with you for this."

Dave grinned. "Paybacks are hell, aren't they?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I've been waiting years for retribution. Remember when you locked me in the girls' locker room?"

"Damn, Dave. That was twenty years ago. We were kids, for Christ's sake."

"Hey, I was scarred, man."

"Right. If I remember correctly, you didn't try very hard to escape. You have no reason to be getting back at me like this."

"Suck it up, Callahan. Now, let's go out there and play. And remember to pass the damn ball."

Trev followed Dave onto the court. He couldn't believe he was on the back of a donkey. He concentrated on keeping his balance, because he sure didn't want to fall on his butt like the police chief.

He reminded himself he was doing this for Beth. Maybe he could make a couple of baskets and score some points. Would she cheer for him? Would she be proud? Why did he care?

The announcer finished his pre-game spiel and the mayor won the toss. He passed the ball to one of his teammates. The councilman took it down court, passed it to another player. Trev watched the guy twist, catch the ball, then slide right off the donkey's back. _Ouch_.

The ball was loose and Dave dismounted and grabbed it. He dropped it twice before finally remounting.

Trev sidled up beside him.

Dave grinned. "You and me, buddy. Go deep. I'll pass it. Try for three points."

"Not greedy, are we?"

"Hey, might as well go for it."

"Right."

Urging his donkey toward the goal, Trev successfully stopped the animal on the three-point line. Then Dave dropped the damn ball. Trev groaned. The priest retrieved it and rode for the opposite goal. A nice toss and the padre scored.

The band played a victory song and the crowd went wild.

Damn.

Trev trotted over to Dave. " _What was that_?"

Dave shrugged. "I messed up. So sue me."

"Strategy isn't going to work in this game," Trev said. "Next time, go for the points."

"This is supposed to be a team effort, Callahan."

"We're on donkeys, for crying out loud."

"It's just a game, buddy."

"Yeah, right." Trev hated to lose.

On the next play, Trev saw a chance to score. He stole the ball from the mayor and took it down the court.

Dave was up ahead. "Pass, Callahan. I'm wide open. Pass the ball."

Trev didn't want to pass the ball. He wanted to score the points. This was why he hated team sports. You had to share the glory. Share the win. But there was no way in hell he could take a shot. His way was blocked. Damn.

He passed the ball to Dave. His friend neatly avoided two oncoming opponents and lobbed the ball. It swooshed through the net and the crowd cheered.

_Yes!_ Their team was winning. Trev was determined to make the next goal. He jerked on the reins, trying to get his donkey to turn around. The animal tossed its head and stood still.

Trev tried again with no success. Was he going to have to get off the damn animal and push him? This had to be the craziest thing he'd ever done in his life. Who the hell had invented donkey basketball anyway? Whoever it was, he ought to be--

Before he could finish the thought, Trev felt himself flying over the donkey's head. He hit the floor with a painful thud and suddenly everything went black.

****

Beth jumped to her feet. Her heart lodged in her throat when she saw Trevor lying on the gym floor, completely still, not moving a muscle. She held her breath when his donkey stepped perilously close to his head.

"Mommy! Is Trevor dead?" Maggie cried.

"No, baby. He's not dead." Please God, don't let him be dead. Or seriously injured. She'd never forgive herself if Trevor was badly hurt. He hadn't wanted to play, but Dave had shamed him into it. Beth knew Trev had agreed only to help her out.

"Go see about him, Mommy. Hurry! Trevor _needs_ you."

If only that were true. Beth stared down at the scene below. Why wouldn't he get up? All the players had dismounted. The refs, the company manager and the medic knelt and crouched around Trevor.

"Go on, Beth," Gloria said. "We'll watch Mags for you."

"Yes, honey," her mom told her. "Go check on Trevor."

Beth hurried down the bleachers on wobbly legs. She'd enjoyed watching Trevor play. She'd admired his athletic ability, his prowess with the ball. She'd wished that things could be different between them. And now he was hurt.

Down on the court, Beth stopped next to Dave, who was standing outside the circle of men surrounding Trevor. The medic was waving smelling salts under his nose. Trevor wrinkled his forehead, but his eyes remained closed.

"Come on, buddy. Wake up," Dave whispered under his breath.

"You think he's going to be okay?" Beth thought Trevor looked dreadfully pale.

"Sure thing. He had the wind knocked out of him, is all."

"Then why won't he wake up?"

"I don't know."

"Stand back," said the medic. "He's coming round."

Trevor's lids fluttered, then he slowly opened his eyes. Beth let out a shuddering breath. The medic checked his pupils, asked him how many fingers he was holding up, did the whole routine.

Trevor searched the faces surrounding him, then caught sight of Beth. She saw relief and something else in the gray depths of his eyes. She wanted to hold him and never let him go. He tried to rise up on his elbows.

"Easy does it," said the medic, pushing him back down. "Callahan, right?"

Trevor nodded and closed his eyes again.

Beth watched the man run his hands over Trevor's body, poking and prodding. When the medic touched his ribs, Trevor winced.

"That hurt?" He nudged the rib cage again.

Trevor hissed in a quick breath. "Give me a minute. I'll be fine."

"I don't think so," the medic said. "You're going to the hospital for observation. You took a nasty fall there."

"I don't need to go to the hospital. I'm fine, I tell you."

Beth stepped next to the medic and knelt beside Trevor. She took his hand and his eyes popped wide open.

"Beth?" He squeezed her hand.

A feeling of warmth oozed in her veins. "I'm right here."

"I've ruined the game and the fund-raiser."

"No, you haven't. They'll finish the game with one of the subs. Right now, we need to get you checked out."

"I'm fine."

"Please go," she said softly. "I'll ride in the ambulance with you. Okay?"

Trevor gripped her hand tighter and sighed. "All right. I'll go."

Beth ran to get her purse and arrange for Mags to stay with her parents. She climbed in the back of the ambulance and sat next to Trevor, holding his hand. She couldn't lie to herself any longer.

This thing she had going with Trevor Callahan? It was more than sex. More than lust and chemistry. She cared about him. Deeply.

Trevor tugged her hand and she looked down at him. He smiled that sexy smile. The one that melted her insides.

He stroked his thumb against her palm. "Don't look so glum. Everything's going to be okay. Just think. Now you can nurse me back to health. That should be right up your alley--helping someone in need."

Beth smiled. "Are you admitting you need my help?"

He lifted her hand to his lips. Tingles shimmied up her arm. "Oh, sweetheart. I need your help more than you can possibly know."

Beth's pulse leaped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Trevor just shook his head and closed his eyes.

### CHAPTER TWELVE

It was late when they returned to the ranch from the hospital. Too late to pick up Maggie from Beth's parents' house. Trev rubbed the bindings on his chest. No broken ribs, but they hurt like hell. He tried not to think about how foolish and downright embarrassed he'd felt waking up on the gym floor with everyone staring at him.

His only thoughts at that moment centered on Beth. Where was she? He _needed_ her. He didn't want to need her, damn it.

In the last few days, they'd gone from polite strangers to lovers. They'd burned each other up as they'd given in to the raging desire between them. They were strangers no longer. What they were exactly, where they stood with one another, Trev didn't know.

"Are you hungry? I'll fix something to eat," Beth said, setting her purse on the counter. "What are you in the mood for?"

Every time Trev was near Beth, he always wanted the same thing. _Her_. He wanted to possess her, be inside of her. He walked over and nuzzled her neck from behind. "Guess what I'm in the mood for?"

She leaned against him and sighed. "Mmm . . . As much as I like what you're doing, I think we need food. And we need to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine. I told you that. The nurse told you, the doctor told you. I'm okay." He gave her one more nuzzle, then reluctantly let her go. "Make something easy and quick. We'll take the food upstairs and eat in bed."

She turned around, her eyes sleepy with passion. Beth was so honest in her response to him. She made him feel good. Made him feel better about himself. Made him feel for the first time that maybe he could love someone, depend on someone.

_Maybe._ A big maybe.

"That sounds like fun," she said, going over to the refrigerator. "Let's see. We have cheese and crackers or bologna sandwiches. Which do you prefer?"

"Both sound good."

"I thought you didn't like bologna," she said over her shoulder.

"I've developed a taste for it. Just like I've developed a taste for a certain bookmobile driver." He waggled his eyebrows and was rewarded with a blush.

"Really?" She stood with her back to the fridge.

"If you can't tell, then I've been doing something wrong these past few days. I need to rectify the situation immediately." He advanced toward her, wanting to take her in his arms. Feel that soft body against him. Lose himself in her.

Beth laughed and shook her head, holding out her hands to ward him off. "I can tell! I can tell! You've done nothing wrong and everything right. Get your mind off sex and on to food. I'm starving."

Trevor stopped inches away. He hadn't felt so alive in years. Hell, he didn't remember when he'd felt this way--free and happy. Had his luck finally changed? He felt like a different person since he'd returned to the Rocking C Ranch. He dropped a kiss on Beth's lips and turned away. "You make the sandwiches and I'll get the wine. I saw a bottle in the pantry the other day when I was looking for candles."

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting on the bed, eating a picnic dinner by candlelight.

Romantic and decadent, Beth thought.

She finished the last bite of her sandwich. Even bologna seemed romantic with Trevor lounging across from her on the bed. He looked rumpled and sexy and just a little bit dangerous. He'd unbuttoned his shirt and the bandages around his chest were the only indication that he'd had an accident. Otherwise, he seemed as fine as he kept telling her. _Oh so fine_.

She watched him swirling his wine in the goblet. He studied the dark red liquid and frowned. "I never would have thought I'd actually enjoy coming back to Stone Creek and the ranch."

"Have you enjoyed it?" Beth asked him. "Even though you lost Thunder and nearly broke your ribs, not to mention working your butt off on the house?"

"Hey, I enjoy working on the house." He took a sip of the wine. "Okay, I could have done without the first two, but the rest . . . The rest has been good."

"Now you have new memories to replace the painful ones," Beth said.

"Yeah, and I have you to thank for making that happen." Trev lifted his goblet in a silent toast.

Beth shrugged and bit into a cracker. "Glad I could help." She licked bits of crumbs and cheese from her fingers. "The pleasure was all mine."

"Not all of it, sweetheart." He chuckled. "You do like helping people, don't you?"

"What can I say? I live to serve." She placed a piece of cheese on a cracker and held it toward him. "Here, try this."

Trev grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. He took the cracker in his mouth, keeping hold of her while he chewed and swallowed. "Do you think we could create some more of those memories?" he said softly.

"Won't we hurt your ribs?"

"Not if you're on top."

The intensity in Trevor's eyes and voice sent a molten flame through her veins. Keep it simple, she reminded herself.

"At the rate we're going," she said, "we'll replace all the bad memories. Maybe then you won't want to sell the ranch, huh?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I have a feeling Maggie's not the only one who doesn't want me to sell the ranch. Is there a particular reason for that?"

Beth bit her bottom lip. She suddenly felt guilty. She hadn't gone to bed with Trevor for any reason other than to satisfy the hunger and attraction between them. And now she cared for him. More than she'd thought.

But would he believe that after Hank's will was read? When he found out what she had at stake if he sold the ranch? How in the world had she thought she could keep this simple?

Think, Beth. Think.

"Well, the Rocking C's been in your family for generations and Hank didn't want you to sell it. Owning two thousand acres is nothing to sneeze at even with all your money. I know you could buy another ranch if you decided to. But once this property leaves your possession, you may never get it back."

"I won't want it back."

"But how do you know for sure?" Beth asked. "You might change your mind."

"I'm not going to change my mind."

"Trevor, people change their minds all the time. People change period. Look how Hank changed; he mellowed as he got older and the stroke affected him, too. He once told me how he wished he had it all to do over again. He regretted treating you so harshly as a child. He said he had his reasons, but wouldn't explain them to me. Maybe you should read his journals. Maybe they would help you get over the pain."

"I don't want to discuss this," Trevor said. "I've made my decision and I'm selling the ranch. I won't change my mind."

He still held her wrist in a strong clasp. Beth searched his face. Again, she silently cursed Hank Callahan for hurting Trevor so badly. And for putting the stipulation on the money for the library. The guilt sat heavy on her stomach.

"Trevor, I need to tell you something--"

"Enough talk." He tugged her closer and wrapped his arms around her. Beth had trouble catching her breath. Guilt quickly gave way to desire. No matter how many times he kissed her and touched her, the pleasure kept getting stronger and stronger.

"Come on, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear. "Let's not waste time arguing. We have the house to ourselves tonight. Help me create some more of those good memories."

Beth sighed as his mouth sought hers in a feverish kiss. Why did everything have to be so complicated? She decided not to worry about it and just enjoy what they had for however long it lasted.

****

Trev eased out of bed, careful not to wake Beth. She was sleeping on her stomach, one bare shoulder peeking out from under the sheet, her beautiful hair splayed across the pillow. Trev's loins grew heavy just looking at her. Damn, how could he think about having sex again? He was bruised and battered and he and Beth had made love twice before falling asleep.

His chest hurt like hell. He needed another dose of painkiller. Groping in the dark for his jeans, he finally found them and slipped them on. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Beth hadn't stirred. She was one hell of a woman. Innocence and sexy temptress all rolled into one awesome package. He was going to miss her when he left Stone Creek. He was going to miss Maggie, too.

On his way to the stairs, Trev glanced toward Hank's room. Beth's words echoed in his brain and after only a moment's hesitation, he went into his grandfather's room and snatched up the journal and took it downstairs.

He set the book on the kitchen table and grabbed the bottle of pain medication they'd given him at the hospital. He chased down a couple of tablets with orange juice, while the leather journal sat there ticking like a time bomb.

Wide awake now, his mind churned with questions. Everything was changing. Losing Thunder had been like losing one of his last links to Hank. That should have made him happy, but didn't. He felt confused and angry.

_Shake it off, Callahan_.

Trev poured more juice in his glass, picked up the journal and headed for Hank's study. If he was going to read the damn thing and wrestle with demons, the study would be the best place to slug it out.

He snapped on a light and settled into an overstuffed chair in the corner near the desk. For several minutes, he stared at the leather-bound book on his lap and sipped his juice.

Would he find out the reasons for the old man's harsh treatment? Would the answers help Trev get over the past? Would it even matter?

He opened the journal and flipped through the pages from beginning to end. His grandfather's handwriting stood out bold and black. Trev's heart hammered and his chest burned. Well, damn.

He leafed through more pages. Midway through, the handwriting changed. Trev glanced at the date. That must have been when Hank had his stroke. The writing wasn't as neat, but the entries were longer. As if Hank were trying to get as much written as possible. Like he knew his days were numbered.

What could his grandfather have found to write about at such length? Did Trevor really want to know?

Beth said Hank had changed and mellowed. She'd said he'd had regrets. Her sweet voice whispered in his brain and gave him courage. Trev took a deep breath, set his juice on the table and began reading.

****

Beth woke up alone in the bed. She peeked at the clock on the nightstand: four in the morning. Where in the world was Trevor?

She stretched and realized she was naked. Gloriously, wondrously naked. With Mags gone, Beth hadn't bothered with a nightshirt. She flopped over and buried her nose in Trevor's pillow and inhaled deeply. She loved the way he smelled.

_Where was he_?

She climbed out of bed, pulled on one of Trevor's T-shirts and went to look for him. Downstairs, she searched the kitchen and the dining room. No Trevor. She glanced down the hall toward the study and sure enough, a light glimmered from the doorway.

One look inside and Beth knew something terrible was wrong. Trevor sat in the chair by the desk, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, fingers gripping his hair. His shoulders shook as if he might be crying. Beth's heart went out to him.

What had happened?

He must have sensed her presence because he lifted his head. Beth sucked in a breath. He _was_ crying. His beautiful gray eyes glistened with tears.

He muttered a curse and sat straighter in the chair. He cleared his throat, but didn't say anything.

"Trevor, what's wrong?" She rushed to his side and knelt before him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but something kept her from doing it. Beth had no experience with a grown man crying. Her dad never cried and she hadn't been married long enough to know if Matt cried or not. "What are you doing down here in the middle of the night?"

He viciously wiped the tears from his eyes. "Damn, Beth. Go back upstairs."

"I'm not going anywhere. And it's not a sin to cry, you know." She noticed the book in Trevor's lap. "You were reading Hank's journal? Now? At this time of night?"

He nodded.

"Did you find out why Hank treated you so badly?"

Trev closed his eyes and nodded again. He labored to pull a deep breath of air into his lungs. Beth could tell his chest was still hurting. Or maybe it was his heart.

"Want to tell me the reason?" she asked.

He didn't say anything and Beth thought he was going to try to send her away again. He gripped the journal in his hands, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. "Hank thought he was trying to protect me."

"Protect you?" Beth asked. "From what?"

"From being hurt."

"But he hurt you dreadfully. He practically abused you. Maybe not physically, but definitely emotionally."

"Hank wanted me to grow up tough. He believed caring and loving made a man weak. Hell, he drummed that into my head every day I lived with him."

"Caring and loving does not make a man weak."

Trev shrugged. "The funny thing is the son of a bitch loved me. He just had a weird way of showing it and I never realized. How could I when I felt like he hated me--that I could never please him? I thought I was a burden, that I wasn't good enough. That maybe I didn't deserve his love."

"Everyone deserves to be loved."

Trevor shook his head. "Not me, Beth. Not me."

"You can't seriously believe that. Women are drawn to you like magnets."

"That's sex, not love. They like my money."

Beth's heart bled for him. And suddenly, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she loved Trevor Callahan. She'd been fooling herself. Again. Only this time she'd had it backwards. What she felt for Trevor wasn't just lust. She loved him, but she couldn't tell him. Not yet.

"You're wrong," she said. "I like you very much. I don't care about your money."

Trevor searched her face. "I know you don't, but I can't figure out why. Everyone has an angle. I just can't figure out yours."

"I don't have an angle." Not anymore, she amended silently. She tapped the cover of the journal. "So Hank withheld his love from you in order to protect you from being hurt. Why?"

"He wrote how my grandmother's death nearly destroyed him, because he'd loved her so much. He wrote about when my dad died, too."

"I still don't understand," Beth said. "He made you believe he didn't love you. He treated you like crap. How was that supposed to protect you?"

Trevor stared at the journal in his hands. "I'd lost both my parents when I came to live with Hank. He thought I'd suffered enough. If I didn't love, couldn't love, I'd never suffer that kind of devastating loss again."

"That's insane."

"Maybe a little."

Beth laid a hand on Trev's thigh. His jeans were undone and his bare chest rippled with strength. The bandages couldn't hide that. He was a strong man, but his painful past tortured his soul.

"What can I do to help?" she asked.

He set the journal on the table and pulled her onto his lap. He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. "Sweet, sweet Beth. Always wanting to help."

"It's what I do. It's who I am." If only she could help Trevor. If only she could reach his heart.

He kissed each finger, then the palm of her hand. "Help me, sweet Beth. Help me forget."

She swallowed a lump in her throat. "I thought you never asked for help."

"I'm asking now." He kissed the underside of her wrist.

She touched her hand to his cheek. The stubble of his beard scratched her fingers. "You'll have to deal with this sooner or later, you know."

"I know. But not tonight, Beth. Not tonight." He slipped his hand beneath the hem of the T-shirt and smiled a wickedly sexy smile. "Are you going to help me or not?" He cupped her bottom in a soft caress and moved his hand slowly upward.

Beth groaned when he brushed her nipple with his thumb. "You know I'm a sucker for someone in need," she whispered.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm definitely in need." He bent his head and kissed her. She felt all the pent-up emotions surging inside of him. He was hurting and seeking comfort. Every cell in her body wanted to rush to his aid.

"I need you so badly it hurts." His arms tightened around her and he deepened the kiss.

Beth's heart somersaulted at the words. She knew he was only talking about sex, but a girl could wish, couldn't she?

****

A week later, Trev and Maggie stood on the scaffold, painting the house. He'd offered to watch her while Beth went to town for groceries. The sun was shining and birds were singing. Life seemed pretty good even though it had turned upside down on him. Things hadn't been the same since he came back to Stone Creek.

Maggie dipped her brush in the paint can. "I sure wish I could fly in your airplane, Trevor."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do." Maggie sighed a big pitiful sigh as she slapped paint on the side of the house. "Riding in a plane would give me a different perspective on everything."

Trevor smiled. Talking to Maggie was like talking to a miniature adult. "I thought being up here gave you a different perspective."

"Oh, it does," Maggie assured him. "But flying in an airplane would be better."

"Have you ever flown?"

Maggie sighed again. "Nope. Hey, maybe I could go to Laredo with you to pick up Bonita? Then I could ride in your airplane."

_Aw, hell_. He should have seen that one coming. He'd put off going to Laredo, using his injury as an excuse. He wanted to keep Beth at the ranch for as long as possible. Because when Bonita returned, Beth would leave. Then Hank's will would be read, and Trev's days at the Rocking C would be numbered.

What the hell was wrong with him? When he'd first come to Stone Creek, he could barely tolerate the ranch. Now he didn't want to leave? Maybe he didn't want to sell either. He had two prospective buyers who were waiting for him to say the word. He'd put off doing that, too.

Damn. Reading Hank's journal had messed up everything. Trev's truths and beliefs no longer applied. He was still trying to grasp the astonishing concept that Hank had actually loved him--had in fact been trying to _protect_ him.

But how could his grandfather have justified treating him so harshly? How could Hank have believed he was protecting Trevor from pain, when his actions had hurt so deeply?

Hell, it was too much to take in. Too damned confusing.

All Trev knew was that Beth had somehow become his anchor and support. So he found himself taking one day at a time, postponing the trip to Laredo so she would stay at the ranch. Beth was sweet and good. Sexy, as hell. And she made him feel happy. Trev hadn't felt that way in a long time.

Maggie tugged on his shirt. "Please, Trevor? Can I go to Laredo with you?"

He looked down at the adorable little girl staring at him with wide innocent eyes. He hated to disappoint the kid. Damn, he had no willpower where Maggie was concerned. That iron band squeezed his chest again.

"Can I go?" Maggie begged. "I really, really want to fly in your plane."

"I'd like to take you, but . . ." The idea of taking Maggie to Laredo appealed to him. And maybe she wouldn't have to be disappointed. Maybe Beth would agree to go. She'd refused way back when they had decided on the no-touching policy. But they were doing a lot of touching these days. And nights.

"But what, Trevor? Can I go, please?"

There was really no reason for Beth not to go to Laredo. "We'll see how your mom feels about it, okay?"

"Yippy!" Maggie threw her arms around his waist and hugged with all her might. "Thank you, thank you."

"Don't get your hopes up," he warned, palming a hand over the top of her golden hair. He was starting to like Maggie's generous hugs and that wasn't good. And he was definitely liking her mother's kisses and hugs. That was downright dangerous. "Your mom already said she didn't want to go."

Maggie smiled up at him. "We'll have to talk her into it, won't we?" The little girl turned away and started painting, humming a happy tune.

Trev dipped his brush in the can and reached over Maggie to paint under the eaves. He hoped Beth would agree to fly to Laredo. He'd like to show her some of the sights. Show her a good time. Impress her with his wealth.

_Whoa, Callahan_. He'd spent his entire adult life avoiding women who were impressed with his wealth. Now he'd finally found a woman who cared for him as a man. For once, his money didn't matter. Beth liked him for himself.

Oh yeah, life was starting to look good again. Trev hummed along with Maggie and continued painting.

### CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Beth stared out the window of Trevor's small private jet. They were sitting on the runway at the Stone Creek airstrip preparing to take off. Why in the world had she agreed to go to Laredo? Hadn't she decided not to? True, that was when they were trying to keep a distance from each other, but still.

Maggie had begged and pleaded and begged some more. _Can't we go, Mommy? Please? Please?_ Beth had finally given in just to shut her up.

She must be crazy. That's the only explanation Beth could think of. She was weak and crazy. Crazy in love with Trevor Callahan. Might as well add stupid to the list, too.

Beth turned to watch Trevor adjust Maggie's seat belt in the back seat. Her daughter was chattering away a mile a minute. "I'm so glad I'm finally getting to fly," Maggie said. "And I'm so glad I'm going to see Bonita. I've missed her so much."

"Quit squirming, kiddo," Trevor said. "I can't get the buckle fastened."

"Oh, sorry. I'm so excited. Aren't you excited, Mommy?"

Trevor snagged Beth's gaze and winked. She felt herself blush. "Yes, Mags. I'm excited."

When Trevor made sure Maggie was secure, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged tight.

Trevor hesitated a fraction of a second before returning Maggie's embrace. He kissed the top of her golden curls and closed the door, headed around the front of the plane and climbed into the pilot's seat.

Beth straightened in her own seat and swallowed a big lump in her throat. She'd bungled this whole thing big time. Why hadn't she realized her daughter was crazy about Trevor, too? That she'd bonded with the man and would miss him when he was gone?

_Damn, damn, double damn_. The only man who'd stirred her emotions in ways she'd never dreamed possible was going to walk right out of her life. And she couldn't think of any way to stop him.

She was going to lose Hank's bequest, too. Funny how the money had dropped down on her priority list, now that she understood Trevor's need to sell the ranch and move on.

Yesterday, she'd called Dave and asked him to leave out the bequest when he read the will. He'd said that wasn't an option; he had to read the will as written. Beth desperately wanted to confess everything to Trevor, but could never find the words nor bring herself to break her promise to Hank. The guilt was killing her.

Yeah, she'd bungled this thing big time, all right.

And just when it had looked like she'd gotten her act together and her life back on track. She had survived those long rough years after Matt had left her. Struggled through working and going to school and raising a baby. But it had been worth it. Beth had built a happy, satisfying life for her and Mags.

Then along came Trevor Callahan. Complicating everything. Making her confuse lust and love again.

"Here you go," Trevor said. "Put these on." He handed a headset to Beth, then leaned around and helped Maggie with hers.

"What are these for?" Maggie asked.

"They'll let us talk to each other once we take off. So we don't have to yell over the noise of the engines." He twisted back in his seat and started flipping switches and checking gages.

"Cool! Isn't this cool, Mommy?"

Beth adjusted the set over her ears. "Yeah, Mags. Very cool."

Trevor looked at Beth and smiled. He'd put on his aviator sunglasses and looked impossibly handsome. And in total control. "Ready?" he said.

Beth nodded. How could she have been so foolish as to lose her heart to this man? How could she have forgotten how wealthy he was? How could she have known or guessed?

He owned a private jet, for goodness sakes. A limo was waiting in Laredo to drive them all over town.

Beth felt like Julia Roberts in _Pretty Woman_. Okay, so she wasn't a hooker. But she _was_ having a mad passionate affair with a very wealthy man, who flew his own plane. And Trevor was much better looking than Richard Gere, at least in her opinion.

_Oh man._ She was in big trouble here.

But life wasn't like the movies or romance novels. Trevor had warned her not to expect anything from him. Only a good time. A sexual relationship and nothing else.

Beth sighed as the plane took off, leaving the ground behind. Time was running out. And there was nothing she could do about that either.

****

"It's so good to be home, no?" Bonita smiled and did a little dance around the kitchen. A dance Trev had seen her do a hundred times when he was a kid. She set her purse on the counter, smoothed her hands over the tile as if reacquainting herself with an old friend. She stopped and stood near the stove, hands on wide hips. "And it is so good to have you back home, _niño_. It's been too long. Much too long."

"I know. Leo's already lectured me for staying away." Trev hauled her bags to her bedroom next to the kitchen. Upstairs, Beth and Maggie were unpacking after the trip from Laredo.

He headed to the dining room, needing to check his email. Bonita dogged his footsteps, hovering around him like a mother hen with a long-lost chick. He didn't know whether to be pleased or irritated.

Trev sat at the dining table and turned on his computer. Bonita stood next to him. "Well, I never would have thought it, but for once I must agree with Leo. I missed you, _niño_. You shouldn't have stayed away. You should have come home once in a while." She laid her hands on his shoulders and kissed his cheek, just like when he was a little boy. "Ah, no matter. What is important is that you are home now. How about I fix you something to eat? What would you like?"

"There's food in the fridge," Trev said. "I know you're tired. You don't need to cook."

"I'm never too tired to cook. Especially for you. How about I make _calabasa_ and _fideo_? Two of your favorites, yes?" She kissed his cheek again.

Damn, he could get used to this. He hadn't had the pork and zucchini dish since he'd left the ranch. His mouth watered just thinking about it. "That's too much trouble, Bonita."

"No trouble, _niño_. I am so glad that you are back. We must celebrate."

"What are we celebrating?" Maggie asked, running into the room. "Are we going to have a party?"

Bonita smiled. "Yes, we will make a party because Trevor is home. Come, _niña_. Help me in the kitchen."

Maggie skipped over to Trevor and tried to kiss his cheek, but settled for the side of his arm.

"What's that for?" he asked. The band around his heart constricted almost painfully.

"For taking me flying in your plane and bringing Bonita home." She grinned up at him. "And because I love you."

Before he could say anything, Maggie ran to join Bonita, who was waiting in the doorway. The housekeeper gave him a knowing look before turning away.

****

Later that night, Trev stood at the kitchen sink, getting a glass of water, staring out the window into the darkness. Bonita was upstairs tucking Maggie into bed. The little girl was overjoyed to see the housekeeper again.

Trev was glad to see her, too. When they'd gone to her mother's house in Laredo and Bonita had hugged him to her ample bosom, an ache and long-forgotten need pierced him deep in his heart. The way she hung around him, touching him and kissing him, reminded Trev of how Bonita had mothered him as a child. Reminded him that he'd had two champions on his side, providing a much-needed cushion of support against Hank.

Trev chugged the water and set the glass on the counter. Funny how he'd forgotten Leo's and Bonita's support through all those years. Mostly he remembered the painful memories; they had overshadowed the good ones. And it wasn't funny at all that his grandfather's stern treatment had covered up a deep love for his grandson.

As Trev turned from the window, a movement outside caught his eye. _Beth_. She was heading in the direction of the pond.

Trev didn't think twice. He was out the door in a matter of seconds. He followed her at a distance, careful to keep silent. Maybe he shouldn't be following her, but he wanted to be near her, take her in his arms again. Make love to her. It had been too long. Way too long.

The trip to Laredo hadn't played out exactly as he'd planned. Beth had been quiet and distant. With Maggie along, there hadn't been time for romantic kisses or dinner by candlelight. And Beth hadn't seemed unduly impressed with any of the special treats he'd planned for her entertainment. The more lavish the treat, the more she had withdrawn.

He didn't know what to make of it. The women he usually dated loved it when he spent money on them. The more, the better. But not Beth. She really _wasn't_ impressed with his wealth.

Crickets chirped and an owl hooted in the pasture. The full moon shone brightly on the pond, sprinkling pinpoints of light on the glass-smooth surface. Beth walked out on the pier and sat down. Trev watched her from the bank for a little while.

He had known coming back to the Rocking C would be unsettling. But he'd thought that selling the ranch would put the past to rest and his future would be smooth sailing from here on out. He hadn't counted on having his heart resurrected and feelings reawakened. Maybe Hank had been on to something. Maybe caring did make a man weak.

Trev sure as hell didn't feel strong right this minute. He felt vulnerable. Exposed. Like he was about to risk it all and had no idea if he'd survive. Life had been much simpler when he'd stuck by his credo of not needing anyone, only depending on himself. Thing was, he didn't know if that was going to work anymore.

When he stepped onto the pier, Beth's head whipped around, her green eyes wide. Her hand flew to her chest. "Goodness, you scared me."

"I didn't mean to. Mind if I join you?" He didn't wait for an answer, but walked down the wooden planks and sank down beside her.

Beth pulled her knees up and hugged them to her chest. She sighed a wistful sigh. "It's so peaceful out here." Her voice sounded husky and breathless. It reminded him of when they were in bed. "I'm going to miss it," she said.

For a second, he almost told her he wouldn't sell the ranch. He quickly banished the thought that he'd do almost anything to make this woman happy. "I'm going to sell it. You know my reasons."

"Yes, I know." She turned her head and stared at him. "But I've grown spoiled. Visiting the Rocking C has provided Maggie and me a haven. I can't help it. I've grown to love this place."

A soft breeze blew over the pond causing the moonlight to shimmer like tiny diamonds on dark velvet. Beth shivered and hugged her knees tighter.

"Cold?" Trev asked. Even though it was the first week in June, the nights were sometimes cool. The weather in Texas was always unpredictable.

"Not really. Maybe a little."

Trev moved closer and put his arm around her. She rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. "Better?" He kissed her hair.

"Yes. Much better. Thanks."

He kissed her again. "Anytime."

As they sat looking at the water, a peaceful calm settled over Trev. A feeling he'd never experienced before in his entire life. Or at least that he could remember.

Beth lifted her head and looked at him. "Won't you miss the ranch at all? Won't you miss any of this?"

"I don't know. Maybe." And that confused the hell out of him. Trev tucked a long strand of wild curly hair behind Beth's ear. She trembled beneath his touch. Just like that he was hard with wanting her. "I know one thing," he said. "I'm going to miss you and Maggie."

A flash of yearning and sadness in her eyes made his heart squeeze tight. He cupped her smooth jaw with his hand.

She covered it with her own. "Don't go, Trevor. Don't sell the ranch. You could stay. You could keep the ranch."

"Beth, I--"

Suddenly, she was on her knees with her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him deeply, passionately. She felt so good, tasted so sweet, made him so hot he felt like he was going to burst if he didn't bury himself inside her right this minute.

Trev pulled her onto his lap and deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, groaning when she latched on and sucked hard. She twisted around until she straddled him, nestling his arousal between her thighs.

"Damn, you're killing me here, sweetheart."

Beth smiled, kissed him again and then proceeded to drive him insane.

He had to touch her breasts or he'd die. Quickly, he unbuttoned the front of Beth's blouse and deftly undid the clasp of her bra. Her head fell back and he kissed his way down the column of her throat, kneading her breasts, relishing every whimper and moan erupting from the vital woman in his arms.

He bent and took a nipple into his mouth. Beth dug her hands into his scalp and held his head. She squirmed in his lap, rubbing him until he nearly exploded with need.

"Make love to me, Trevor. Please."

A quick look around assured him they were alone and not likely to be interrupted. The pond stood secluded in this portion of the pasture. The banks were high and the pier almost out in the middle of the water.

He unsnapped her shorts, thrust his hand under the elastic of her panties and touched her. She was so hot and wet, Trev clenched his teeth to keep control. He kissed her almost brutally, feeling a primitive need to join with her--right here, right now.

Beth pushed Trev to his back, her hands busy with the buttons of his shirt. "Please tell me you brought protection," she said breathlessly.

It took a minute for her words to penetrate the sensual fog clouding his brain. She was still kissing him, and the movement of her hands on his chest were driving him to desperation. "In my jeans pocket," he said, finally gasping the words out.

"Thank God! Help me take your shirt off."

Trev sat up, shrugged it from his shoulders, then bunched it up for a pillow to cushion his head on the hard planks of the pier.

Beth pushed him back down. "Now the jeans." She reached for the zipper. The brush of her fingers on his fly threatened Trev's control.

"I'll do it," he said, his voice gritty with suppressed passion. He shoved off his jeans and underwear, then wrestled the condom from the pocket and set the small square packet on top of his pants.

Beth got rid of her blouse and bra. She shucked her shorts and panties, too, then straddled him again. Trev thought he'd never seen such a beautiful, wondrous and thoroughly erotic sight in his life. He'd never felt so alive and sexually aroused, either.

The woman looked like Venus personified with her long hair floating around her head and cascading down her bare shoulders. The moonlight glimmered on the red spiraling tresses, creating an otherworldly halo around her face. Her pretty breasts bounced as she moved and her fingers teased and taunted him, her lips hot on his skin as she bent to kiss and lick his neck.

He ran his hand down her smooth silky back and lingered on her bare bottom. She raised her head and her green eyes glowed like emeralds. She smiled a sexy little smile as she made her way down his stomach, dipped her tongue in his belly button, then moved lower. Much lower.

Trev nearly came unglued when Beth took him into her warm wet mouth. She wrapped her fingers around him, squeezing gently as her lips worked their magic. His hips actually bucked off the pier. _Damn!_

She lifted her head, and her smile became more pronounced, more sexy. "Easy, Mr. Hotshot. We're going to take this nice and easy."

Trev couldn't stand it any longer. "I don't think so, sweetheart." He grabbed her arms and hauled her up the length of his body. Reaching for the condom, he tore open the package.

Beth took it from him. "May I?"

_Oh yeah. "_ Be my guest."

She held his arousal erect and kissed the tip. Trev closed his eyes on a groan. "Come on, Beth. I'm dying."

She didn't say anything, only smiled that sexy little smile again. He held his breath while she slipped on the protection. Then she rose above him and slowly impaled herself.

In a matter of seconds, Trev's control snapped. He clamped his hands on her hips and helped established a rhythm that would pleasure them both. She moved over him almost frantically, urgently. She held on to his wrists as he thrust deeper inside, her long hair caressing the tops of his thighs.

Damn, it had never been like this. Never this good.

"Look at me, Beth."

With a shuddering sigh, she met his gaze. Trev nearly forgot how to breathe. He'd never seen a woman look at him like Beth was doing now. His heart contracted painfully. One last thrust and . . . ecstasy.

Beth collapsed on top of Trev and he held her close with her head nestled on his shoulder. After several seconds, she kissed his neck. "Trevor?"

"Hmm?" God, he felt good. And she felt good in his arms.

"I love you. You realize that, don't you?"

His eyes shot open. "Beth, don't--"

"Shhh." Two fingers touched his lips, scorched them, burned. "You don't have to love me back," she said softly. "I just wanted to tell you. I _needed_ to tell you." She settled back down and snuggled against him.

"Beth, I can't . . . I don't know how . . ."

Trev felt her nod, her sigh warm on his chest. "I know, Trevor. I know."

****

The next morning, Beth climbed into the bookmobile. She wasn't quite ready to tackle a new day, but she didn't have much choice, now did she? The world didn't stop turning just because Beth Evans had acted like a fool.

Why had she told Trevor she loved him? What in heaven's name had possessed her to do it? Had she lost her cotton-picking mind?

Beth gripped the steering wheel and let out a huge sigh. Last night on the pier. The moonlight, the water, the soft breeze. The man.

Oh, yeah. The man. Trevor Callahan. The man who evidently had made her lose what little sense God had given her.

She cringed when she remembered practically begging him not to sell the ranch, too. She'd only been thinking that she didn't want him to leave. It had nothing to do with the terms of Hank's will. Good lord, she _had_ lost her mind.

Beth turned the key in the ignition and the bookmobile's engine roared to life. She sat there a moment, letting it warm up, and mentally listed the things she had to do today. Mags was taken care of. That was always a load off Beth's mind. Her daughter was in heaven. School was out for the summer and Bonita was back from Laredo. Those two had a lot of catching up to do.

Beth put the van in gear and headed for the road. She needed to run to town and pick up this morning's books for the day's deliveries.

Continuing with her list, she groaned. This afternoon, she had to meet Trevor at Dave's office for the reading of Hank's will. What was Trevor going to think when Hank's bequest of a million dollars was announced? What would his reaction be when he found out about the attached stipulation?

Good grief, what a mess. What a complicated, horrible mess. Why had she told him she loved him?

Right before Beth reached the road leading to the highway, she glanced up at the windmill behind the barn. Her heart lurched in her throat, as she slammed on the brakes.

Mags was up on the windmill! Way up there, high above the ground. Hanging on for dear life. If she fell . . .

Beth jumped out of the bookmobile and ran toward the windmill. She wanted to holler and scream, but didn't want to startle Mags. Her little girl looked terrified as it was. Please God, don't let her fall.

"Mommy! Mommy! I can't get down. Help me! Help me!" Beth's heart froze at the sheer terror in Mags's voice.

"I'm coming, baby. Don't look down. That will make it worse. Hold on tight."

"Don't you climb up here, Mommy! You'd be more scared than me."

True, Beth did have a thing about heights, but that didn't matter when her baby was in danger. "Hold on, Mags."

"I am, but my arms are getting tired."

Leo came running from the barn. "Keep holding on, little darlin'! Help's on the way. We'll get you down."

"Oh, Leo. Help!" Maggie squeezed her eyes shut. "Hurry!"

Beth looked around, hoping Trevor would come, too. She needed him. Lord, she needed him. Not only right now. She needed him forever.

And like that, he was by her side. His hand clamped on the back of her neck, his touch reassuring.

"It'll be okay," he said. "I saw her from the scaffolding and came as fast as I could. She'll be all right, I promise."

He was gone on the words.

"Hey, kiddo," Trev called from the base of the windmill. He tilted his head back and shaded his eyes from the early morning sun. "Whatcha doing up there?"

Maggie looked down at him and actually grinned. Beth was going to throttle her daughter as soon as she was safely down on the ground.

"Trevor! Thank goodness. I know I shouldn't have climbed up here, but I wanted to get a different--"

"Perspective," Trev said. "I know. Don't move. I'll be up in a jiff." He consulted a minute with Leo, then began the ascent up the ladder attached to the steel girders.

Beth waited beside Leo and watched Trevor climb the windmill. Mags stood on a small platform behind the twirling blades, holding on with a death grip to one of the poles.

"Trevor, I'm afraid," Maggie cried. "I don't want to fall. It's high up here."

"Hold on and you won't fall. Talk to me. Maybe that'll help. Why did you decide to climb the windmill anyway?"

"It was a 'speriment."

"An experiment? What kind of experiment?" Trevor was already halfway up the windmill. A couple minutes more and Beth could breathe again.

"You know. A science 'speriment." Mags tightened her hold on the pole and looked toward the big Texas sky. "The scaffolding gave me a different perspective. Flying in your plane was even better. But I wanted something in between."

"So you decided to climb up here?"

Maggie gave a little nod. She kept her eyes on the sky above. "Going up was easy. I thought it was going to be like climbing on the scaffold when I helped you paint. Boy, was I wrong. It's high up here. And I don't have the safety belt. When I decided to go down . . ." Maggie's voice trailed off and ended with a sob. "Hurry, Trevor. Hurry."

"I'm almost there. Keep talking, Maggie."

"Mommy, where are you?"

"Right here, baby. Right here. Don't look down."

"I'm not," she said. "Leo?"

"I'm here," he said. "You'll be down safe and sound in no time."

Beth watched as Trevor continued his climb. The platform was way up there. She wanted to kill Mags for being so reckless. Hug her, then kill her. Then hug her some more.

"Trevor!" Maggie cried.

"I'm right beneath you," he said, then swung himself up beside her. "Gotcha." He grasped Maggie by the shoulders and pulled her to him, holding her safe. She threw her little arms around his neck and cried.

Beth felt tears in her eyes at the sight. The man she loved, holding her baby close. Rescuing her from danger.

"You're all right, Maggie." Trevor hugged her and wiped her tears. "Ready to climb down?"

Maggie shook her head and launched herself against him again. Trevor soothed her sobs, and Beth wanted to cry.

"It'll be okay," Trevor said. "Hang on to my neck, and I'll keep you safe."

"Don't let me fall."

"I won't. I promise. We're coming down," he called to Beth and Leo.

Climbing down was a slow process. Beth held her breath. Trevor had to balance Mags while finding footholds on the narrow ladder each step of the way down. After what seemed like an eternity, they were safely on the ground.

Beth rushed over and hugged both of them. She smoothed the golden curls away from her little girl's face. "You okay, Mags?"

Maggie nodded and buried her head in Trevor's shoulder. Beth knew how good and safe that shoulder felt.

Trevor transferred Mags into Beth's arms. Beth hugged her tight and sent up a silent prayer of thanks. "That was a dangerous thing to do, Mags. You could have been seriously hurt."

"I'm sorry, Mommy."

Beth kissed the top of her head. "It's okay, sweetie. Just don't do it ever again."

"She better not do it again." Leo stepped closer and patted Maggie's back. "You gave us quite a scare, little darlin'."

"I won't do it again. I promise."

"Okay, then," Leo said, his voice gravelly. "I've got work to do." He turned on his heel and headed toward the barn.

Maggie twisted toward Trevor and reached for him. "I want Trevor to hold me again."

"What's wrong with me holding you?" Beth asked. She didn't know whether to be glad or a little jealous.

"His arms feel stronger. Please?"

"Sure thing, kiddo." He took Maggie from Beth and held the little girl close to his heart.

Maggie lifted her head and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for saving me."

"You're welcome." He rubbed her back. Beth saw the care and concern for her little girl in his dark eyes. Her heart swelled with love for him.

Maggie rested her head on his shoulder and sighed a big heartfelt sigh. "I love you, Trevor. We both love you. Don't we, Mommy?"

Trevor snagged Beth's eyes. She wasn't exactly sure what she saw there. A little bit of fear mixed with a whole lot of wariness. A sprinkling of hope, perhaps?

"You love him, too. Don't you, Mommy?" Maggie asked again. "Yes," Beth said softly. "I love him, too." It wasn't like he didn't know. Not after last night.

"I sure wish he would stay. Don't you, Mommy?"

Trevor stood there, staring at Beth. The want, the need, the yearning on his handsome face was enough to make her cry.

She stared right back at him. "Yes, baby. I wish he'd stay."

Maggie wiggled to position herself so she could look Trevor straight in the eye. "It hurts my tummy something fierce when I think about you going away. Won't you miss us even a little?" She frowned at the man holding her in his arms.

Trevor cleared his throat before he answered. "I'll miss you. A lot."

"Then don't go," Maggie said. "Stay with us. I want you to be my daddy. Mommy, don't let him go away."

Oh lord. Beth swallowed back the tears. Trevor looked shell-shocked.

"Hush, Mags. Trevor can't stay. He has to sell the ranch. We've talked about this, remember?"

Maggie buried her face in Trevor's shoulder and cried. "I don't understand. Don't you like us, Trevor?"

He patted her back. "Of course, I like you. You're a special little girl. I'll come back and visit you."

"Promise?" Maggie said.

"Promise." Trevor knelt and tried to set her on her feet, but she wouldn't let him. She tightened her arms around his neck. "Not yet. Hold me some more. Don't let me go."

"It's going to be all right, kiddo. You're going to be okay. Want to go up to the house and let Bonita get you something to drink?" He looked at Beth for guidance.

Beth nodded. Trevor was learning how to handle Maggie. Maybe he'd learn how to handle having someone love him, too. She could only hope. If not, the future looked bleak and lonely. Not only for Beth and Maggie, but for Trevor Callahan, too.

### CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"I, Henry Travis Callahan, being of sound mind and body . . .

Dave Jamail started reading Hank's will at four-thirty that same afternoon.

Trev looked around the long mahogany table in Dave's conference room. Leo sat stiffly erect, Stetson in front of him on the table, silver hair combed back from his forehead. Bonita sat next to him, dressed in her Sunday best, listening intently as Dave read all the legal rhetoric and mumbo jumbo.

Trev hoped his grandfather had done right by these people. He wasn't sure what to expect anymore--about his grandfather or anything else, for that matter.

The man whom Trev had known, the man who'd raised him so sternly was not, by all accounts, the real Hank Callahan. The journals had proven that. Beth's and Maggie's relationship with the old man had proven it, too.

If Hank hadn't done right by Leo and Bonita, and Trev would know in the next few minutes, then he would have to do something to take care of them. They were the closest thing he had to family.

So why was he selling the ranch and kicking them out of their house and home? _Not a good way to care for them, Callahan._

Trev had come to Stone Creek with one goal in mind and one goal only: sell the Rocking C Ranch, cut all ties to his grandfather, and put to rest his painful childhood memories.

But not all the memories were painful. Leo and Bonita had been there, supporting him, loving him, although he hadn't realized it. Hell, even Dave had been there for him.

Trev had left them all behind and never looked back, confident that he didn't need anyone but himself. Had he been wrong?

_Caring made a man weak_. How long would it take to figure out he might have been wrong about that, too?

Beth and Maggie sat across from Trevor at the conference table. Those two were the icing on the cake. _Wrong metaphor, but what the hell._

The moment he'd stepped inside his grandfather's house, Trev's life had turned upside down. The beautiful young single mom and her angelic imp of a daughter had stolen their way into his heart. Melting his defenses. Defenses he'd spent most of his life erecting and guarding with a vengeance. He'd been a goner from the get-go when he'd met Beth and her daughter. He might as well admit it now.

What he couldn't admit or truly believe was the fact that both Beth and Maggie loved him. For himself. Not his money. Not his social position. Both of them loved Trevor Callahan, the man.

It made him feel alive in ways he'd never felt before. Powerful, yet vulnerable. And that scared the hell out of him.

It was easier to accept Maggie's love. She was an innocent child. Those baby blue eyes had done him in that first day.

And this morning. God, he didn't like to think about this morning. Even now, Trev's heart hammered and adrenaline rushed his veins when he remembered seeing Maggie so small and so high above the ground. Every second it took to climb the windmill had knocked a year off Trev's life. When he'd finally had her safe in his arms, he hadn't wanted to let her go.

That was when he knew he loved her.

But loving a child was different than loving a woman. Many women had professed their love to Trev. None of them had made even a tiny dent on his stonewalled heart.

Beth was different. Money didn't seem to matter to her. Except for the library fund, Trev thought with a smile. She would do almost anything to get that library built.

No matter what happened, Trevor decided to help her with the project. Beth was so giving, so helpful. She'd helped him see things differently.

And she loved him. She'd told him last night on the pier and again this morning. He didn't know what he was going to do about it. Didn't know if he really believed her.

Trev realized Dave had stopped reading. His friend took a sip of water and shuffled the papers. "Now we come to the parts that will interest all of you the most," he said. "Hank's bequests. Shall we proceed?"

Everyone nodded. Dave cleared his throat.

"To Leo Smith, head foreman of the Rocking C Ranch for these past thirty years of loyal service, I hereby leave one million dollars."

Leo whistled under his breath, picked up his Stetson, then set it back on the table again. "God almighty, that old son of a bitch!"

Dave smiled and continued.

"To Bonita Gonzales, my housekeeper for longer than I can remember, I hereby leave one million dollars."

Bonita made the sign of the cross and clasped her hands over her bosom. "Thank you, Lord. And thank you, Mr. Hank."

Trev sat back and relaxed. What do you know? The old man had come through. Now if he'd done something nice for Beth and Maggie, Trev would know that Hank had really changed and hadn't been a complete bastard. Maybe he could even believe Hank had actually loved him.

Just then, he caught sight of Beth. She was staring at him with apprehension and something else in her pretty green eyes. Maggie, on the other hand, was oblivious to everything. Or almost everything. She sat at the table, absorbed with coloring pictures. She stopped to applaud when Dave announced the bequests, then went right back to her artwork. Trev could imagine her little legs swinging under the table.

He couldn't imagine why Beth was looking at him like that, though. Yeah, life had sure turned difficult. It was much simpler when you only had yourself to contend with.

"To Margaret Lynn Evans--"

"That's me," Maggie said, wiggling in her chair.

Beth kissed the top of Maggie's head. "Hush, baby." The little girl nodded, put down her crayon and sat straighter.

Dave continued. " _I leave in trust the amount of one hundred thousand dollars to be invested and used for college. I know you'll go far, Magpie."_

"Oh, Mommy. Remember how he called me that? Wow, that's a whole lot of money Poppy gave me." Maggie turned to look at her mother. Her eyes widened and she frowned. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm . . . I'm happy, that's all." Beth looked at Trev through her tears. "Your grandfather was a generous man."

Trev nodded. "I guess he was." Such a contrast to the taciturn man who had raised him.

"Shall we move on?" Dave asked.

Trev listened as Dave read the rest of the will. Hank had left everything else to him. The land and the money. No surprise there. Hank had been generous, especially considering the way Trevor had abandoned the old man. Life was full of regrets and could-have-beens, should-have-beens.

When Dave stopped reading and shuffled the papers again, Trev stood. "That settles it, then."

Dave cleared his throat and shook his head. "There's one more thing. A codicil Hank added a couple of weeks before he died."

"A codicil?"

"An addition to the will."

"I know what a damned codicil is." Trev sat back down. He had a bad feeling about this. Leo and Bonita listened to the exchange with interest. Beth suddenly wouldn't meet Trev's gaze. She busied herself with tending to Maggie. Did she know what was coming?

"For Elizabeth Anne Evans, I hereby donate one million dollars to her library fund. In addition, she will receive a monthly stipend of two thousand dollars for living expenses for as long as it takes to build the new Stone Creek library."

"Well, I'll be damned," exclaimed Leo.

"Oh, my goodness," Bonita said.

Trev heard Beth's gasp of surprise. Had she not known, then? She wasn't looking at him, but focused her attention on Dave, as if waiting for more.

Trev looked at Dave and saw his friend hesitate. Something wasn't right. He waited for the blow. There had to be a final blow. His grandfather couldn't have changed that much. Couldn't have been that generous.

"This bequest has one stipulation . . ."

_Ah, here is comes._ Trev braced himself. His gut told him this stipulation was going to hurt someone. Either Beth or himself. Why hadn't the old man donated the money free and clear?

"As long as the Rocking C Ranch remains in Trevor Callahan's possession, the transaction will go through as outlined above. If my grandson sells the ranch, the money will revert back to the estate."

Trev sat there stunned. He could see in Beth's expression that she'd known about this bequest of Hank's all along.

How many times had she begged him not to sell the ranch? How many times had she tried to change his mind? She was no different from all the other women in his life, he realized with a wrenching pain. Okay, so it wasn't _his_ money she wanted to get her hands on; it was Hank's. A mere technicality.

And his grandfather was still trying to manipulate him, even from the grave. The old man had been obsessed with the Rocking C Ranch. Obsessed with Trevor coming back home, keeping the land in the family. Obsessed and deranged.

This past month hadn't meant a goddamned thing. Trev had thought he'd learned that things hadn't really been what they seemed. That things had changed.

He'd been wrong. Nothing had changed. Things were exactly what he'd always believed. His grandfather might have professed his love in those damn journals, but his actions spoke louder than words. This last blow showed the old man's true colors.

And the bastard had been right. Caring did make a man weak. The one time in his life Trevor had let down his guard and what happened? His heart had been stomped to the ground, that's what. Because now he knew he loved Beth Evans.

_Loved Beth Evans_.

She'd said she loved him, too. Trev had almost begun to believe her. But it had all been a farce. She'd used him to get Hank's money.

Maggie jumped up and stood on her chair. "Oh, goodie! Does this mean Trevor isn't selling the ranch?"

All eyes turned his way. Well, damn. Leave it to the kid to lay it all out in the open.

"Sit down, Mags." Beth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Trev tried to ignore the way her breasts pushed against her blouse. Breasts he'd never see, or touch or taste again. Damn her for ruining that, too.

"I don't want to sit down." Maggie turned to Trevor. "Are you going to sell the ranch?"

"I don't know." He didn't know anything right now. His brain had stalled. He felt the walls of the conference room close in on him.

"Trevor?" Beth's soft voice shook with emotion. Or was it guilt?

Through the red haze of anger and pain, Trev looked at her. Her beautiful face was pale, the freckles standing out in stark relief. Her green eyes were wide and her lips trembled.

Dave pushed back his chair and stood. "Trev, I can explain--"

"You're supposed to be my friend," Trev said, shoving back his own chair and rising to his feet. Inside he was shaking with anger. With betrayal. "You knew about this and didn't say anything."

"I couldn't. I promised Hank--"

"I don't want to hear it." Trev gripped the edge of the conference table to steady himself. "Everyone out of this room. Now! This is between Beth and me."

"Okay, Callahan. Have it your way." Dave stuffed the papers in his brief case. "We're finished here, folks. I'll send a copy of the will to each of you and make the arrangements for the bequests to be distributed."

Trev nodded, not taking his eyes off the woman who'd betrayed his trust and love.

"Come, _niña_." Bonita walked around the table and gathered Maggie in her arms.

"But what's wrong?" the little girl asked. "Why is Trevor looking like that? Mommy, I don't understand."

Beth slowly rose to her feet. "Go with Bonita, Mags."

"But--"

"Go on, Mags."

Everyone exited the conference room, leaving Trev alone with Beth.

"I had already decided not to accept the bequest," she said as soon as the door closed. "Ask Dave. He knows. So it's not what you think--"

Trev snorted in disbelief. "Isn't it? How many more lies are you going to feed me?"

"I haven't lied to you."

He didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything. Beth was lying right now. She'd lied to him from the beginning. Every look, every gesture, every kiss.

"I couldn't tell you what was going on. I've wanted to; God how I've wanted to, but I couldn't break my promise to Hank."

"Because the money was so important?"

"It _was_ important. But after I realized how you felt about the ranch, I didn't want Hank's money. I only wanted what was best for you."

Trev laughed mirthlessly. "That's hard to believe right now. Especially considering the terms of the bequest. A million dollars is a lot of money. I know how important the library is to you."

Beth bit her bottom lip. "The library is important. And at first, I did want you to keep the ranch because of the money. I made that promise to Hank almost a year ago. I hadn't met you yet. I'd only heard Hank's side of the story. I thought you'd heartlessly abandoned the old man."

"You know it wasn't like that." God, she was so beautiful. He wanted her. Even after what she'd done, he wanted her. He despised himself for his weakness.

_Caring made a man weak_.

" _Now_ , I know you didn't abandon him," she said softly. "I didn't know then."

Trev refused to give in to the entreaty in Beth's voice or the tears in her eyes. His anger was too raw, too painful. He wanted to lash out. He wanted to hurt her as much as she'd hurt him.

"Tell me one thing," he said. "Did you sleep with me in order to get Hank's money? Did you tell me you loved me to make it seem more real?"

The look on Beth's face and the hurt in her eyes should have given Trevor immense satisfaction. It only made him feel worse.

With a strength he didn't know he possessed, he hardened his heart against the woman standing across the table from him. He never should have lowered his defenses. He should have known better.

_Caring made a man weak_.

Tears coursed down Beth's cheeks. "You have to believe me. It wasn't like that," she whispered. "It was never like that."

He stood, placed his fists on the table and leaned toward her. "Well, sweetheart, it certainly looks that way to me. And you know what? You gambled and you lost. I'm selling the ranch like I've intended from the beginning. I'll admit I was having second thoughts. I was actually starting to enjoy being at the ranch. With you and Maggie. But it was all a lie--"

"It wasn't a lie!" Beth said. "You have to believe me. I couldn't go back on my promise to Hank. I gave him my word."

"Well, you won't be getting Hank's money now. And you sure as hell won't be getting any of mine."

Beth wiped away the tears and raised her chin. "I never wanted your money. And I've already told you I wasn't going to accept Hank's." She grabbed her purse. "I understand why you need to sell the Rocking C. And I also know you need to learn to accept people's love. You're right--I did gamble and I did lose. But Hank's money is nothing compared to . . . Oh, never mind." Beth turned on her heel and marched to the door.

"Compared to what?" he shouted. She was torturing him. Killing him. Part of him didn't want to let her go. The other part wanted to push her away. Far, far away.

Beth stopped at the door, her head bent. Her shoulders rose, then fell with a sigh. "I lost something far more valuable than Hank's money."

"What did you lose?" Trev asked roughly. He knew Beth was hurting. She was putting on a brave front, and damn if he didn't want to hold her close, to let himself believe it was all a mistake. To believe she actually loved him.

With her hand on the doorknob, Beth looked at him over her shoulder. "I lost my heart, Trevor. I lost my heart to you."

Trev watched the door close behind her. Was Beth telling the truth? Did she really love him? And even if she did, could he trust her after this?

****

_She'd done it again_. Beth threw an armload of clothes in the suitcase, then went to the closet and gathered up shoes and boots and crammed them in a large plastic garbage bag. Man, how much stuff had she brought to the ranch? She and Mags had been here only a month. It seemed liked they'd brought most of their belongings from the garage apartment to these rooms upstairs in Hank's house. And it had begun to feel like home.

Beth sniffed and wiped away a tear. She wouldn't cry now. Later. Later, she'd cry.

Maggie skipped into the room. "Mommy, I can't find Mr. Bigs. I can't leave without my bunny." She plopped on the bed and thrust out her bottom lip in a pout. "Why do we have to go? I don't want to go. I want to stay here. I want Trevor to stay here, too."

"I know you do, baby. But we can't," Beth said. "It'll be nice to be back home. Close to Nana and Pawpaw." Beth swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn't want to leave, but she didn't have a choice. Trevor thought she'd betrayed him. He wouldn't listen to her. He didn't believe she loved him.

She'd bungled it again. Big time.

When would she realize she didn't have what it took to have a relationship with a man? With Matt, she'd confused lust and love. But she didn't have them confused now. No, she knew she truly loved Trevor with all her heart and soul. But she'd hurt him so badly.

It was all very complicated and confusing. She'd never get it right.

"You and Trevor had a fight, didn't you?" Maggie asked. "Can't you say you're sorry and be friends again? Maybe he'd stay. Maybe he wouldn't sell the ranch if you were friends again."

_If only it were that easy_. Beth took a deep breath. "Trevor and I can't be friends anymore."

"Why not?"

"It's grownup stuff. It's hard to explain."

"Is Trevor mad at me, too?" The hurt in her little girl's eyes pushed Beth's own hurt to the background. She sat on the bed and pulled Mags onto her lap. She kissed the golden curls and breathed in the scent of her baby. At least she had Mags.

"No, Trevor's not mad at you."

"Can I draw him a picture and make him a card?"

"Sure, that would be nice." Maybe that would help Mags deal with this painful upset in her life. Beth hugged her daughter close and wished she could do something similar to deal with the pain. But nothing would make the pain go completely away. Trevor had touched something deep in her soul and Beth knew she'd never be the same again.

****

The next morning, Leo invited Trevor to ride out with him to check the fences and the livestock. They rode for several minutes in companionable silence. Trev wondered why he'd never remembered the good times in his past with Leo. How many times had they ridden out like this when he was a kid? Why did he only remember the bad things?

"So, you're really going to do it," Leo said. "You're selling the Rocking C."

"That's why I came back." But Trev was having second and third thoughts about selling. He'd spoken in anger yesterday in Dave's office. He had just about made up his mind to keep the ranch. But realizing Beth had betrayed him . . .

He'd stayed awake all night thinking about it.

Leo flexed his shoulders and tipped his Stetson back on his forehead. "Well, son, I have a proposition for you."

"What kind of proposition?"

"I want to buy the ranch."

Trev didn't know if he'd heard Leo right. " _You_ want to buy the ranch?"

"I have the means now, thanks to your granddaddy. The Rocking C has been my home for thirty years or more. I'm too old and set in my ways to go anywhere else. And I don't want strangers owning the ranch. I may not be a Callahan, but I love this land same as Hank loved it. Same as you do, if you would own up to it. So if you're set on selling, then I'll be buying."

"What if I decide not to sell?"

"Well then, I'll stay on as foreman as long as I can." He paused. "If you'll have me, that is."

"Damned straight, I'll have you." Trev couldn't imagine Leo anywhere else but on the Rocking C. Bonita too, for that matter. Hell, he couldn't throw them out of their homes. He couldn't sell the ranch either. What had he been thinking?

Leo pulled his horse to a stop. Trev sidled next to him. Across the pasture, Thunder Two grazed near a stand of mesquite trees. The horse was the spitting image of his sire. Trev's heart ached with the loss of Thunder. He'd loved that horse.

"Hank loved Thunder," Leo said, echoing Trev's thoughts. "He wasn't afraid to show his affection for animals. Everyday, he'd feed Thunder a lump of sugar, a couple of carrots. He'd talk to him. I heard him. He'd talk to him about you. Your granddaddy wanted to mend the rift he'd created, but you refused to budge. All those years--wasted and gone." Leo shook his head.

Trev didn't know what to say. Didn't know where this was going. Or maybe he did.

"There's a woman over yonder in town that loves you, son. Don't let your past stand in the way of happiness. I know Hank never showed you a smidgeon of affection, though he loved you deeply. I know he taught you caring makes a man weak. That's a load of bullshit. Love don't make you weak. Love makes you strong."

"I don't think so." Trev didn't feel strong. He felt weak as hell. He'd felt numb ever since Beth had walked out of Dave's conference room and out of his life.

"Look how strong Beth is," Leo continued as if Trev hadn't spoken. "Look how much she cares about people. You should count your blessings that you're one of those people. Let the past go, son. Start living in the present and think about the future."

"I don't know, Leo." Trev didn't know anything anymore.

"Think on it a spell, son. That's all I ask."

### CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A couple of nights later, Trev roamed aimlessly through the old ranch house, looking, searching. For what, he didn't know. The emptiness rang loudly in his ears. Beth and Maggie were gone. Their rooms cleaned and straightened. Empty. All signs of occupation completely obliterated. Only the ghosts of their presence remained.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. He'd become accustomed to hearing Maggie's little voice asking questions. Her smile. Her giggles. Her hugs. Damn, he missed the kid.

He missed Beth, too. There was a hole in his chest where his heart had been blasted out. He'd never felt so alone, not since his parents had died and he'd had to come live with Hank.

Bonita was gone. Trev had flown her to Laredo yesterday to be with her mother again. He'd assured her he would be okay. He would be leaving in a matter of days anyway.

He'd done a lot of thinking on the return flight home. Not _home_ , he corrected himself. The ranch. But it sure had started to feel like a home these past couple of weeks. A home with Beth and Maggie.

Yeah, he'd done a lot of thinking. Up there in the big blue sky with the earth moving beneath him, he'd had a lot of time to think. Just him and his plane. Flying through the air. Couldn't get much more alone than that.

_Wrong_.

He was alone now. Before, it hadn't bothered him. Before Beth Evans had come into his life, Trev had convinced himself that alone was good. He'd lived in a vacuum, his heart safe and secure. And lonely.

Damn, he'd been lonely for a long time now.

Trev stopped at the door to Hank's study. Books, lots of books, lay in piles on the floor, on the tabletops, on the chairs. Evidence of Beth's presence hit him with the force of a wrecking ball taking down a brick building.

He stepped into the room and looked around. Memories bombarded him. But they weren't bad memories. They weren't memories of Hank. Nor were they memories from his childhood.

They were memories of Beth. Good memories. Happy memories. Like the day he'd followed her in here, demanding to know why she hadn't asked him to make a donation to her library fund. Trying desperately to ignore the strong chemistry flowing between them. He'd wanted to kiss her then. From the first moment he'd met her, he'd wanted to kiss her.

Trev walked over to the library table and ran his hand over the smooth dark wood. He'd done a lot more than kiss her on this table. His body immediately tightened as he thought of Beth and how he'd touched her. How she'd responded and shattered with pleasure beneath his fingers.

He fisted his hand and turned away. The stepladder stood near the back wall of shelves. The ladder Maggie was always wanting to climb. What was it with that kid and climbing?

Something hanging over the top of the ladder caught Trev's eye. Curious, he walked across the room and grabbed a white envelope. His name was on it, carefully written in purple crayon. Maggie had disobeyed Beth and climbed the ladder and left this for him.

For a minute, Trev stood there and stared at the envelope, turning it over and over. How could a grown man be afraid of something like this? Afraid of a letter from a sweet little girl.

Carefully, he opened the flap and drew out two pieces of paper, both folded neatly into squares. Trev sat at Hank's desk and unfolded the first square. Purple crayon again. Trev had to smile at that. His hand shook slightly as he began to read.

Dear Trevor,

Mommy sed I coud make you a card To say goodby. Thanks for bein the bestes friend after Leo. Thanks for savin me on the winmil. Thanks for lettin me paint with you. Most of all thanks for takin me in your plane.

I love you very much,

Maggie

PS Hope you like the piktur.

Trev cleared his throat twice, before unfolding the second piece of paper. It was a drawing of the ranch house. An extremely detailed drawing for a five-year-old. He shook his head and smiled again. The details shouldn't surprise him considering this was no ordinary five-year-old. Although the spelling in the letter showed she was still very young.

Trev studied the picture with interest. Maggie had drawn the white house with the dark green shutters and door, the porch with its railings, the geraniums, the swing and even the porch light. All depicted clearly and meticulously colored. She'd drawn the scaffolding at one end with two cans of paint on top, along with the rollers and brushes.

Three people sat on a pallet on the lawn in front of the house. Trev recognized the scene. It was the day they'd shared a snack on the quilt beneath the big mulberry tree. Maggie had drawn a heart around each person. They were eating brownies. Everyone wore a big smile. Underneath, Maggie had written: _I wish we cood be happy agin._

Pain squeezed Trev's chest so tightly, he thought he was having a heart attack. He wished they could be happy again, too. He was wishing it more and more with each passing second.

Trev looked closer at the picture. Up above the house, in the middle of the blue sky, Maggie had drawn a man sitting on a cloud, smiling down at the scene below. The man wore a battered cowboy hat. Inside the cloud, Maggie had printed: _Poppy loves us all_.

Trev leaned his elbows on his thighs, held the paper between his legs and stared at the picture for a long, long time. He remembered sitting like this a week or so ago after he'd read Hank's journal. A lot had been revealed then.

There was a message here, too. Somewhere. If he could read between the lines, there was a message for him. Or maybe it was staring him in the face, but he was too dense, too hard-headed, too scared to see.

_I wish we cood be happy agin_.

Maggie wanted Trev to be her daddy. She loved him. And he loved her, damn it. He loved Beth, too. And he knew deep down, that Beth loved him. Not his money. Not his social position. Just him. She'd told him so and he hadn't believed her. She'd apologized for everything and he'd thrown it back in her face.

Trev stood abruptly. Still looking at the picture, he gazed at the drawing of his grandfather sitting on that damned cloud, smiling down on the house and the group of people on his lawn.

Poppy loves us all.

Well, hell. It all came down to that, didn't it? Trev needed to let go of the past. That's why he'd come to the ranch in the first place. He needed to believe his grandfather had loved him. Needed to believe that he, Trevor Callahan, was worthy of love. Had always _been_ loved.

Leo and Bonita had loved him. They still loved him. He just hadn't realized it before. He'd been too busy trying to gain Hank's favor and approval. And after he left the ranch, he'd been too busy trying to ignore his grandfather and the hurt he'd inflicted.

All those years wasted. All that pain for nothing. Because Hank _had_ loved him. His grandfather hadn't wanted him to be hurt. But the old man had screwed up. He'd hurt Trev in the process of trying to protect him.

Trev folded the picture and letter and stuffed them back in the envelope. It was time to let go of the past and take hold of his future. He wasn't going to waste any more time either. He was going to do it right now.

****

The loud knock on the door startled Beth. It was late and she was alone in the apartment. Mags was spending the night with her nana and pawpaw and Beth had been attempting to get all their stuff organized and settled. She'd been trying to get over the pain of leaving the ranch. Trying to get over the pain of leaving Trevor. Trying, but miserably failing.

The door rattled on its hinges with the next series of knocks. "Beth, let me in. I know you're in there." There was a pause. "Please, let me in."

Beth's heart tumbled at the sound of Trevor's deep voice. What was he doing here? She looked down at her jammies. Or what passed for jammies--a cropped tank top and boxers.

"Beth. Please open the door."

She could see him through the window. The intense look in his gray eyes made her blood buzz with heat and her heart hum with hope.

Taking a deep breath, Beth flipped her long hair over her bare shoulders and went to let Trevor in. Suddenly, it didn't matter about her state of dress. Or undress. He'd seen her in a lot less, hadn't he? And he'd liked what he'd seen. A lot.

_Don't think about that, Beth_.

She opened the door. He stood on her landing, the porch light illuminating his rugged face. A shadow of beard covered his cheeks and chin. His hands were by his sides. In one hand, he clasped Mr. Bigs. Beth's heart sank.

"May I come in?" he asked.

She couldn't speak, so she nodded. Disappointment and pain lanced through her body. Trevor wasn't here for her. He'd come to return Mags' stuffed rabbit.

The living room seemed to shrink; Trev's big body dominated the space. Beth shut the door and turned to face him. She would not cry. She would not beg. She could do this.

Summoning a smile, she asked, "You found Mr. Bigs?"

Trev looked at the animal in his hands as if he'd forgotten its existence. "Yeah, she left him in the laundry room." He held out the rabbit toward her.

Beth hesitated before stepping closer and retrieving Mags' toy. A hint of cologne and Trevor's own unique smell teased her senses. Made her want things. Things he didn't want to give her. Things he didn't think himself capable of giving.

"Thanks for returning him. Mags will be glad."

"Is she in bed?" he asked, looking around the apartment. Beth wondered what he thought of her modest home. It was nothing like the ranch house and she could only imagine the difference compared to his place in Tulsa. He was accustomed to luxurious and expensive surroundings.

Beth shook her head. "She's at my mom's."

He didn't say anything, just stood there, tall and sexy as hell, his gaze returning to her, taking in her skimpy attire from her wild loose hair to her bare painted toes. Fire lit his eyes; his lids grew heavy. She forced herself to stand still and tried to ignore her body's traitorous response to the man she loved. The man who was too damaged to love her back.

Beth turned away and set Mr. Bigs in the overstuffed wing chair. She faced Trevor again and lifted her chin. She refused to be a coward. "Was there something else? Besides bringing Mags' rabbit?"

His jaw tightened like he was angry. "I didn't come here to return the damned rabbit. I decided to come over here because we need to talk. About us. About what's happened. I was on my way out the back door when I spotted the rabbit on top of the dryer."

Beth's heart kicked up its tempo. He wanted to talk? "You were coming over?"

"Yes, I was." Trevor advanced toward her, steely determination in his eyes.

"Why?" A part of her wanted to retreat, but the other part of her was thrilled at the dangerous restraint she sensed in Trevor. Hope struggled past the despair that had hung over her since the reading of Hank's will.

With his heart in his throat, Trevor stopped in front of Beth. Time stood still for a moment, the only sound the hum from the air-conditioner in the window. "Why the hell do you think I'm here?" he said. "To see you. To talk. And to do this." He took hold of her shoulders, pulled her body close and crushed his mouth to hers. She felt soft and warm in his arms. She tasted sweet and hot.

When she'd opened the door, the want and need to touch Beth had been overwhelming. Her long mussed hair begged him to bury his hands in the silky strands. The slinky top showed bare skin above the waistband of those sinfully short boxers. Her long legs made him hard thinking about having them wrapped around his waist.

And God he was so hard now, he was hurting. She felt so good, he wanted to die. No, not die. He wanted to live. Really live. Not just exist, like he'd been doing for most of his life. He wanted it all. He wanted Beth. Sweet, sexy Beth who'd taught him so much. Who loved him for himself. For showing him that caring makes you strong, not weak.

Trev backed Beth toward the sofa and eased her down on the soft cushions. She wiggled under him, adjusting the fit and he thought he'd burst from the pleasure. He savored the moment, savored the woman.

As much as he needed to plunge himself into her warmth, Trev wanted to get things settled between them first. With super-human effort, he pulled back, leaning his weight on his elbows and looked at her beautiful face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly parted, her lips moist and swollen from his kiss.

"Look at me, sweetheart."

Beth's eyes opened and immediately anxiety and confusion showed in their green depths. She tried to push him away, but Trev wouldn't let her.

"We can't do this," she said. " _I_ can't do this. Sex won't solve anything. It'll only complicate matters."

Trev kissed her forehead and sat up, pulling her with him. "Why do you think I stopped?"

"I don't know." Beth swiped her hair from her face and inhaled a shaky breath. "When you kiss me like that, my mind shuts down and my body takes over." Her eyes widened. "Forget I said that. You wanted to talk? What about?"

Trev kept his hand on her shoulder in a possessive grip. He wanted Beth in his life, but was afraid to expose his feelings. Old habits were hard to break. But he had to take the risk. "I want to apologize for my behavior in Dave's office the other day. Now wait a minute," he said, when she started to speak. "Let me finish. Then you can have your turn."

Beth nodded and folded her hands in her lap.

Trev cleared his throat. "All my life, I've felt like no one loved me. My parents died and left me. Hank's treatment made me feel worthless. I know now he was trying to toughen me up, and I'm working on accepting that he cared about me.

"When I left the ranch, I was determined to make it without Hank's help. And I was successful, but I turned into a workaholic. Work became my life. Money and success became my lifeblood. The magazines wrote about the women in my life. But those women only liked me because of my money."

"Surely not all of them," Beth protested.

Trev shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. But that's what I told myself. Because I didn't feel worthy of anyone's regard or love. Until you came into my life." He gently rubbed his fingers over her cheek, wiping away the tears. "Are these for me?"

She nodded and sniffed.

Trev tenderly kissed each cheek, tasting the salt from the tears. "No one's ever cried for me before."

Beth tried to smile. "Maybe no one's loved you like I love you."

He kissed the corners of her mouth, nibbled her bottom lip. "So, you still love me? I haven't ruined that?"

Beth sniffed again. She stroked his jaw with one gentle hand. "I love you. I told you I don't want your money. And I don't want Hank's money. I'll get the funds for the library some other way. I know you need to sell the ranch--"

"I'm not selling the ranch."

She looked at him in surprise. "You're not?"

"No, I'm not. I had almost made up my mind before the will was read. After I found out about Hank's bequest and his stipulation . . . I was angry. I've lived so long with these feelings, it's difficult to get past them. But I'm really trying, and I've decided not to sell the Rocking C."

He took her into his arms again. "I love you, Beth Evans. Your love has made me strong enough to fight the demons. I'm going to fight and win. Will you help me, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Beth smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yes, yes! A thousand times, yes."

Trev smiled back. He kissed her again, relishing her warm response. His last defenses crumbled away. He trusted Beth with his love. He knew he could trust her with his heart. And he had no doubt she'd take good care of it.

****

Later that night, Beth lay in Trevor's arms, her head on his shoulder, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear. She swirled her fingers through the hair on his chest. He caught her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. "A penny for your thoughts."

Beth smiled. "How many times do I have to tell you, I don't want your money?"

Low laughter rumbled in his chest. Beth's heart turned over. It was so good to hear this man laugh. He kissed her palm and awareness zinged through her body.

"About my money, sweetheart. There's something we need to discuss."

"Like a prenuptial agreement?"

"Actually, I wasn't thinking along those lines."

"Well, you need to," she said. "We come from different worlds. You're extremely wealthy and I have practically nothing."

Trevor held her away from him and grabbed her shoulders. For a moment, she thought he was going to shake her. "I don't ever want you to say or think that again. Your love means everything to me. My money means nothing. If anyone's not worthy, it's me."

Beth placed her hands on his wrists and squeezed gently. "Let's make a deal then. I won't worry about our social differences, if you promise to start believing in yourself."

He stared at her for a long moment. Beth felt like he was looking deep into her soul. "Okay, it's a deal." He kissed her and let his hands slide down her bare arms, then lower until he was cupping her breasts. He kissed the corners of her mouth. "So, about my money."

Beth closed her eyes on a sigh. Trevor's hands and mouth were driving all thoughts of talk from her brain. "What about your money?"

"I want to make a donation to your library fund."

Beth's eyes popped wide open. "You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do. I want to match Hank's bequest--".

"But I don't want Hank's--"

"Shh. Don't argue. Hank wanted you to have that money and so do I. Anyway, I want to match . . . no, I want to double it. Whatever it takes to cover the building costs."

Beth was stunned by his generosity. "Are you sure? That's a lot of money."

"I know how important the library is to you."

"Thank you." She kissed him, then resumed her position on his shoulder and snuggled close. "Now, if only I can find the right builder."

Trev cleared his throat. "You know, I'm in the construction business. I'm going to be building a resort hotel on Coyote Lake."

She lifted her head and looked at him. "You are?"

"Yes, I am. And I could build the library for you, too."

"Oh no, I couldn't ask you to do that."

Trevor caressed her cheek. "Ask me, Beth."

His low sexy voice caused a familiar quiver deep inside of her. She wondered if she'd still feel this way fifty years from now. "You've already done too much. The donation is enough."

"Ask me."

Beth searched his handsome face. She realized this was important to him. "Will you build the Stone Creek Library for me, Trevor?"

He squeezed her tight and kissed her nose. "I'll build the best damn library you've ever seen."

"Thank you." Beth's heart swelled with love. "Now, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Anything."

Beth hesitated. It was now or never. "Do you think we could live on the ranch after we're married? You, me and Mags? And maybe a baby Callahan or two?"

Before she knew what was happening, she was flat on her back with Trevor covering her body with his. He kissed her so tenderly, Beth thought her heart would burst.

"Is that a yes?" she asked, when they came up for air.

"Most definitely a yes. With you and Maggie, the ranch finally feels like home." He kissed her again, more deeply, more passionately. "What do you say we start working on a baby or two right now?"

"I'd say that's a fine idea."

Beth melted into his embrace. Fifty years of loving this man would only be the tip of the iceberg. Her feelings for him would last a lifetime.

She knew Trevor had a long way to go before his heart was fully mended. He had taken a giant leap of faith in order to accept her love and to love her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you, Trevor Callahan. Just you and only you."

"Forever and ever, sweetheart."

Beth smiled. "Forever and always."

THE END

You might also enjoy reading Return to Stone Creek #2: Tall, Dark and Texan.

###

### Damsels in Breeches Regency Novella Series #1

### To His Lady's Rescue

**by**

Anne Marie Novark

As children, Arabella Trent and Gilbert St. John were best of friends. Wherever he led, she happily followed. Their friendship held fast until Gilbert went off to fight Napoleon and Bella stayed home. Years passed and their youthful camaraderie faded to pleasant memory.

Now Gilbert is home from the wars and Bella needs his help. From the moment she climbs in his bedroom window, he knows he's in trouble. Can this beautiful desirable young lady be the same hoydenish friend from his childhood? Can Gilbert rescue Bella from her desperate circumstances even if it means . . . marriage?

****

To His Lady's Rescue

Copyright © 2011 by Anne Marie Novark

****

### Dedication

To everyone who enjoys a fun Regency Romp.

****

### CHAPTER ONE

Hampshire 1816

_Desperate times call for desperate measures,_ and Miss Arabella Trent was one desperate young lady.

Perched on a branch of an ancient oak tree that stood on the south side of Cheney Manor, she tried frantically to pry open the third floor window. Leaning forward to get better leverage, her foot slipped, she lost her balance and started to fall. Quickly grabbing the branch she'd been standing on, she clung for dear life, her booted feet dangling in the air twenty feet above the ground.

Don't look down!

Arabella squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the rough bark scraping her palms. Her hands were slipping, and she knew she must hoist herself up again or tumble to her death. Climbing this tree and crawling through the bedroom window had been much easier when she'd been a child. But she was a child no longer, and that was the crux of her troubles.

She gritted her teeth and swung herself back into a sitting position, straddling the branch. Thank goodness her old pair of breeches still fit. Her aunt had wanted to burn them, but Arabella had saved them from the rubbish pile and kept them hidden in a locked wooden box beneath her bed. One never knew when they would come in handy. And since climbing trees in skirts and petticoats was next to impossible, the breeches had indeed come in handy tonight.

She sat on the branch and waited until her heart stopped pounding in her chest. Luckily, she hadn't screamed with fright when she'd fallen. If she woke the servants, all would be lost. The only one she intended to awaken was the lone occupant in the bedchamber behind that blasted window.

The night was dark, and the stars twinkled brightly in the black sky up above. The moon smiled down upon her, but Arabella didn't smile back. With a deeply inhaled breath, she stood and balanced again on the branch. Sending up a silent prayer, she pushed open the window and climbed through. Her foot caught on the windowsill, and she toppled to the floor, landing with a loud thump. She froze in a crouched position, her breath lodged in her throat. No sound came from the big bed standing across the room. Heavy curtains were drawn around the massive bedposts. Goodness, she'd made enough noise to wake the dead. Surely, Gilbert had heard. What if he wasn't in his bed? What if he'd moved into his father's bedchamber now that he was the new earl? What would she do then?

Arabella picked herself up off the floor and tiptoed toward the bed. She parted the curtains and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the man sleeping so peacefully. He had changed a lot since she'd last seen him, though she shouldn't be surprised; it had been ten years after all. She had changed, too, in many, many ways.

The moonlight cast its silvery light through the window. Arabella stared at Gilbert. The friend of her youth had grown and matured, leaving his boyhood behind, yet she would have known him anywhere. He had the same dark hair and those indecently long lashes she had always envied. His aquiline nose befitted his aristocratic heritage. His chin bore the same dimple, but his neck was thicker, stronger than when he'd been a boy. His bare shoulders were muscular, as was his chest. There was a lot of smooth bare skin exposed, making her insides toss about in a most disturbing manner.

Well, she couldn't stand here all night gaping at him. A sleeping Gilbert was no use to her. No use, at all. Still, she hesitated before gingerly leaning a knee on the bed to shake one of those bare muscular shoulders.

"Gilbert!" she whispered loudly, shaking him again and again, her fingers burning against his skin. "Gilbert, do wake up! It's me, Bella!"

Gilbert didn't so much as open an eye, only groaned and shifted, turning over onto his side, taking most of the bed sheet with him. Arabella's breath hitched at the sight of long hairy legs. Goodness, was Gilbert actually naked under that sheet? She'd lived a sheltered life with her aunt and uncle. Who would have guessed some men slept without a nightshirt?

All of this was beside the point. It had absolutely nothing to do with the horrendous circumstances that had made her flee the only home she'd ever known.

Arabella frowned and shook Gilbert again. He turned onto his back and began to snore. This would never do. She climbed on the bed and knelt closer. Whiskey fumes wafted to her nose. "Drat! You would be foxed this night of all nights, when I desperately need your help."

"Not foxed, love," Gilbert mumbled. "Only a trifle disguised."

With both hands on the broad shoulders, Arabella shook with all her might. "Gilbert St. John! Wake up this instant!"

Strong arms clasped around her middle and pulled her down on top of the hard body under the sheet. "I'm awake, love. How about a kiss?"

She tried to push away. "Let go of me, you big oaf! You don't want to kiss me. I'm not one of your bits of muslin." She wiggled and pushed, and wiggled again.

Gilbert grabbed hold of her wrists, and rolled over, reversing their positions. Now Arabella felt the heavy pressure of his male body pressing her into the mattress. She started struggling to free herself. "Gilbert, it's Bella. Wake up. Don't do this, please!"

"Just one kiss. One kiss, love. That's all I want."

Before she could protest, Arabella found herself being passionately kissed like she'd never been kissed in her whole life. Of course, she'd never actually been kissed at all. It was a sad reflection, really. She was twenty-two years old and practically on the shelf. She had never been given the opportunity to be kissed, because her aunt had refused to take her to London to make her debut. Aunt Mildred was determined to see her married to her obnoxious cousin Edgar, the darling of his mother's eye.

Best not to think of Edgar at the moment.

Far better to think about Gilbert, although he really shouldn't be kissing her, either. Nevertheless, the sensation was pleasurable. No, that didn't describe what she was feeling. She shouldn't be feeling anything, except the pressure of Gilbert's mouth on hers was making her melt inside. And a warmth in her stomach began to flame into something bigger, stronger.

With only a token protest, she surrendered to the onslaught of Gilbert's kiss. Just a few seconds more, then she would call a halt. She didn't have time for . . .

Oh my!

Gilbert pressed her deeper into the mattress, and when his hand cupped her breast, exquisite sparks shot along every nerve in Arabella's body. When his other hand eased down between them and touched the inside of her thighs, Arabella was jerked back to reality and started fighting in earnest. She could not let this go any further. "Stop, Gilbert! Stop this instant! It's Bella! You have to stop _now_!"

Gilbert St. John, fourth Earl of Barringer, had never forced his attentions on an unwilling female and he didn't intend to do so now. Some of the demimonde enjoyed a little tussle now and then, but he wasn't in a brothel; he was home at Cheney. Even though he'd gone to bed half-sprung, he was fairly certain the female in his arms was no bird of paradise and more importantly, he knew without a doubt she was seriously opposed to making love.

"Don't fight, sweetheart. I'll let you go." He rolled off the wiggling female, who immediately jumped out of his bed. Gilbert squinted at her, his vision blurry from his over-indulgence with the brandy decanter after dinner.

She was a comely piece of femininity and had fit beneath him perfectly, all curves and softness. He flexed his hand remembering the feel of her supple breast filling his palm. If not for the breeches, he could have touched . . . wait a bloody minute . . . _breeches?_ He opened his eyes wide, the better to see and stared at the woman.

"Bella!" Fully awake now, Gilbert hastily climbed out of bed, dragging the sheet to cover his nudity. "Good God, Bella! What the devil are you doing in my bedchamber? How the hell did you get in? And why are you wearing breeches? Where did you get them?"

She stood before him like a statue of Venus and lifted her chin. She'd always been an impudent child, but she wasn't a child now. Oh no. She was a beautiful, alluring woman. Good God! He raked his fingers through his hair.

Had he actually kissed Bella?

She put a finger to her lips, lush lips that had tasted like honey. "Shh! Don't talk so loudly for heaven's sake. You'll wake the servants."

Gilbert walked around the bed and stood facing her. "Answer my questions, damn you," he whispered, trying to ignore her enticing smell. Strawberries? Vanilla? He couldn't tell, and took another deep breath, inhaling her scent again. Definitely strawberries. He gripped the sheet tighter around his body. Bloody hell, he was painfully aroused. Very inappropriate behavior toward the girl he'd grown up with.

Gilbert took a careful step backward. "Turn around, while I put on some clothes."

"Yes, I think that would be wise." She obeyed his command, yet kept talking all the while. "Definitely better; safer, too. Not that I don't feel perfectly safe with you, although you did manhandle me when you had me under you in bed. Of course, you didn't know who I was. Anyway, I can't see much with that sheet around you, and I certainly don't want to see anything, but I'd be more comfortable knowing you're not naked."

"I'd be more comfortable, too. Or maybe not," he mumbled, dragging on his breeches and grabbing a robe. When he had tied the belt at his waist, he felt more in control of this extremely startling situation. "You can look now."

Bella faced him again, peeking at him through her lashes with a mixture of sauciness and mischief twinkling in her eyes. Where had she learned that trick? Or was it unconscious on her part? How long had it been since he'd seen Bella? He couldn't remember. When he'd left England, she had been all legs and awkwardness, but with the budding promise of growing into a beauty. She damned near knocked him over with her beauty now. Those breeches left little to the imagination and emphasized her curves. He could vividly remember the feel of her beneath him. He had no business thinking about Bella like that.

"I need a drink," he said. Something, anything to take his thoughts off the desirable woman standing in his bedchamber, dressed most improperly in tight breeches. Gilbert lit several candles, then stalked over to his desk and splashed a healthy portion of brandy into a glass.

"Do you think that's wise?" Bella said. "You're still half foxed. I need your help, Gilbert. You can't help me if you're foxed."

"I'm not foxed," he said. "I need a drink to steady my nerves. You've caught me unawares, Bella. I want some answers, my girl." He tossed back half the brandy, enjoying the slow burn down his throat. He hoped like hell it would distract him from the heat generated by the close proximity of Bella. He downed the other half and poured a bit more into his glass.

Gilbert sank onto one of the wing-backed chairs in front of the fireplace. "Sit down, Bella." He indicated the opposite chair with his brandy glass.

Arabella walked slowly to the other chair and gingerly sat on the edge of the cushion. She was looking at him in a curious manner, as if she'd made a discovery. "You've changed," she said. "You didn't used to be so hard."

Gilbert choked on his brandy. He was hard, all right. "We've both changed, Bella. You've grown into quite a beauty."

"Oh please," she said dismissively. "I think I might be passably pretty, except my nose is too straight and my lips too thin to be considered beautiful."

Gilbert stared at her. Good God, she was serious. She had no idea how strikingly beautiful she was, or the effect it had on him. It shouldn't affect him one way or another, yet it did. "Trust me, Bella. I know what I'm talking about. You're beautiful. But that makes no matter. Why are you here? And where did you get those abominable breeches?"

Her eyes widened, and then she laughed. "Don't you remember? They were yours. You gave them to me, so I could climb trees properly, you said."

Gilbert racked his brain, searching for the memory of long ago. Ah yes. The halcyon days of his youth, a time when he hadn't a care in the world. Unlike now.

Bella had been his shadow then, following wherever he led, begging to be included in his meanderings around the countryside. He vaguely recalled giving her an old pair of breeches. They had been too large for her, but she'd managed to tighten the waist, so they would stay up. Her hips had been negligible in those days; she'd been slender as a boy. Yes, Bella had changed quite a bit since he'd last seen her.

She sat across from him, her big brown eyes questioning. "Do you remember now, Gilbert?" she asked softly. Her voice was hushed, emphasizing the intimacy of the situation. If he didn't stop thinking along those lines, he was going to do something stupid like kiss her again.

He adjusted his position on the chair, trying to gain control of his wayward thoughts and treacherous body. He had no business thinking about Bella in that way. "Why are you here," he asked. "You said you needed my help. Help with what? You're not twelve anymore. How old are you anyway?" He looked at her over the rim of his brandy glass.

"I'm twenty-two. Six years younger than you, _if_ you cared to remember." Arabella sighed. Nothing had gone as planned this whole blasted night. She hadn't counted on Gilbert being so stern, so . . . _different_.

There he sat in his robe, completely at ease; his dark hair mussed from sleep. Arabella wanted to push his bangs back from his eyes, feel the glossy strands ripple through her fingers. Goodness, she'd never had such wicked thoughts before. Her whole body tingled in response.

Gilbert played with the belt on his robe. His feet were bare. Coupled with the fact she'd seen him earlier with only a sheet as cover made him seem more like a stranger than the playfellow of her childhood. His nakedness made her squirm on her chair, her breeches rubbing her in places she'd rather not think about.

Underlying the sense of embarrassment was the absurd feeling of excitement. She was suddenly aware of Gilbert as a man. She was _attracted_ to him. Marvelous new sensations coursed through her body making her breathless and dizzy.

Arabella couldn't forget how he'd pressed her into the mattress, making her feel helpless, yet at the same time, powerful. And his kiss . . .

### CHAPTER TWO

"Bella, you're not answering my questions," Gilbert said. "What do you want from me?"

_Another kiss?_ Not the correct answer, obviously. Inhaling deeply, Arabella let the breath out slowly, trying to return her thoughts to the question at hand. "I need your help."

He frowned. "Yes, so you've told me several times. Would you care to elaborate? I'm not a mind-reader, you know."

Thank God, for that. Arabella felt the heat flush her cheeks. Stop thinking about Gilbert like he was a pastry from Gunter's. She gripped her hands together in her lap. The moment of truth had arrived.

"Bella, I'm waiting," he said, frustration evident in his voice. "You suddenly seem to have lost your tongue. The Bella I used to know couldn't keep quiet for more than thirty seconds at a time. Cut line, my girl. Whatever it is, it can't be all that bad."

"It's bad," she whispered, thinking of the deplorable situation at home. "It's very, very bad."

"It is?" Gilbert asked in surprise. "Well, spit it out, for Christ's sake. You've awakened me from a sound sleep and now you've got me on tenterhooks. We haven't all night, my dear. You need to return to Whitethorn Hall before sunrise."

Arabella lifted her chin. "I'm never going back to the Hall. That's not an option."

Gilbert jumped out of his chair, his robe swishing about his knees. "What the hell are you talking about? Of course, you're going back. You can't stay here."

She stared up at him as he loomed over her. "Why not?"

" _Why not_? You're reputation, for one thing. _My_ reputation, for another."

Like any of that mattered at a time like this, Arabella thought. "I don't care about reputations," she said. "If I go back to the Hall, I'll be forced to marry my cousin Edgar. I can't do it, Gilbert. I cannot and I _will_ not."

Tightening the belt of the robe, Gilbert sank into the chair again. " _Marry Edgar_? You can't be serious."

Arabella chewed on her bottom lip to keep herself from trembling. The thought of marrying her cousin made her sick to her stomach. "I'm deadly serious."

Gilbert leaned forward in his chair, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Be reasonable, Bella. No one can force you to marry against your will. We're not living in the Dark Ages. You always did let your imagination run away with you. Stop enacting this Cheltenham tragedy and tell me what the real problem is."

Feeling her eyes tearing up, Arabella quickly dashed them away. "I should have known you wouldn't help me. You've been back at Cheney Manor for over a fortnight, yet I only found out yesterday morning. Why have you not paid me a call, Gilbert? Didn't our friendship mean anything to you?"

"Of course it did . . . it still does. But I haven't known a moment's peace since returning to England. Circumstances have kept me quite busy."

Arabella sniffed. "Too busy to visit me? And why did you quit writing letters? I've heard nothing from you for years and years. Are you aware that both my parents were killed in a carriage accident five years ago?"

"Yes, I'd heard. Oh, Bella," he said, his voice deep and hushed. "I'm so sorry."

Gilbert's sympathy made her want to cry. She'd cried an ocean since that horrible day; she was through with crying. "I'm sorry, too. My life's been in a shambles ever since."

"I know how much you must miss your parents." He straightened back in his chair, picked up his glass of brandy and took a sip. "It would seem both our lives are in shambles right now. So how does it happen that you are being compelled to marry your cousin?"

Arabella clenched her hands into fists. She could not let the terrible trembling set in again. She hated feeling so helpless. "After my mother and father died, my aunt and uncle installed themselves at Whitethorn and took over my life. Yes, you may stare, but it's true. Uncle Oslo is one of my trustees, you see."

"Could you not apply to one of the other trustees for help?" Gilbert asked.

"Don't you think I've tried?" she said, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. "There's only one other trustee, and Uncle Henry has been content to leave everything to Uncle Oslo. Aunt Mildred has seen to that. She's a conniving woman and usually gets what she wants."

"She sounds dreadful." He frowned in concentration. "I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting her."

Arabella snorted. "Believe me, it wouldn't be a pleasure. She's entirely dreadful and worse."

The logs in the fireplace shifted, sending sparks and ash flittering about the hearth. Gilbert went over and picked up the poker. Arabella watched as he crouched low and stirred the glowing coals, seemingly content for the moment to watch the flames lap around the burning logs. The light from the fire illuminated his face. She could see tiny lines at the corners of his eyes. What had his life been like these past ten years?

"Did you enjoy being a soldier?" she asked, mesmerized by the fire shadows dancing over him. "I imagine you've sold out, now that your father's dead. You were always army mad, when we were children. That's all you ever wanted."

"All I ever wanted," he said softly, still staring at the flames. Exhaling a deep breath, he placed the poker in the rack and returned to his chair. "I could never think about anything else, could I? I should have paid more attention to what was happening here at Cheney. And now it's too late."

Arabella wanted to reach out and pat Gilbert's shoulder, except they had been separated too long, both in time and maturity, so she refrained from offering even that token of comfort. "Is Cheney Manor badly encumbered? Did your father leave you nothing when he died?"

"Only an empty title." Gilbert looked at her with bleak eyes. "He gambled away his inheritance . . . and mine. I'm going to be forced to sell Cheney."

" _Sell Cheney_?" Arabella couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You can't mean it. Cheney's been in your family for hundreds of years. You love Cheney! There must be a way to save it."

"Don't you think I've tried to find a way?" Gilbert stood abruptly and paced around the bedchamber. "That's what I've been doing ever since I returned to England. That's the reason I haven't been to see you. Every hour of every day, I've been closeted with my father's man of business, his agent, his bailiff, every bloody person I could think of who might know how to help. I've even been to London to talk to my father's banker, Mr. Childs himself. And I had to ride on the stage, for God's sakes. I'm the Earl of Barringer, yet Cheney's stables are empty, except for several workhorses. My father had to sell off all his stock, his hunters, his carriages, curricles and phaetons, everything gone."

He stopped pacing and stood in front of the fireplace. "Cheney's lost to me, Bella. Lost." His voice broke on the last word and he gripped the mantel with both hands, not moving, just breathing heavily.

Arabella's heart ached for him. Life played cruel tricks on the unsuspecting. Life was never fair. Look at her own circumstances. She was rolling in riches, yet couldn't get her hands on any of it until she reached five-and-twenty or married, whichever came first. If she were in possession of her fortune, she could offer to help Gilbert . . .

"Wait a minute!" she said, hopping up from her chair. "I've just had the most ravishing, daring idea!"

Gilbert chuckled and turned to look at her. "How long it's been since I've heard you utter those infamous words. Your _ravishing daring_ ideas tumbled us into more scrapes than I care to recall, most of which I should have sensibly refused to participate in. Not that it would have made any difference; you would have gone your merry way and tumbled into even worse scrapes without me there to bail you out."

Arabella smiled. "We did have fun, didn't we? Until we became too old for such childishness and were ruled by the proprieties. That's nothing to the point, Gilbert. Only listen to me. I think I've figured a way for you to save Cheney."

"Oh, so you've thought of a solution so soon? _A problem that's been plaguing me for over a fortnight?_ Don't make me laugh." He strode over to the desk and reached for the brandy decanter.

"You didn't used to be so cynical," Arabella said quietly, wondering how he could have changed so much.

He paused for a moment, holding the glass and decanter in midair, before taking a deep breath and pouring out a measure of brandy. "Yes, well . . . I've grown up, fought in battles, lost my fortune. I have good reason to be cynical."

"Perhaps I should leave," she said, feeling unaccountably hurt by his comments. "I see now that I'm crossing one of those invisible lines of decorum my aunt constantly accuses me of. I had no right to ask for your help. I'll figure a way out of my difficulties by myself. Goodnight, Gilbert."

As she passed in front of him on her way to the window, Gilbert caught her wrist in a strong grasp, effectively halting her exit. She stared at the dark tanned hand encircling her white skin. His touch was hot, exciting, exhilarating.

"Bella . . . don't go." The intensity of his raspy voice sent goose pimples racing down her spine. "I'm sorry for acting the cur. Please tell me this ravishing, daring idea of yours. I have nothing to lose, and perhaps everything to gain if you've actually thought of a way to save Cheney. You always were smart as a whip."

Arabella swallowed a lump in her throat and pulled her hand free from Gilbert's grip. She rubbed the tingling spot where he'd held her. On second thought, perhaps her idea was _too_ ravishing and daring.

"Bella?" The way he said her name was like a caress. Why had she never noticed it before?

He took hold of her shoulders and gave her a little shake. "What the devil's wrong with you? Are you going to tell me this brilliant idea or not?"

Arabella stared into the face of her onetime playfellow and best friend. "It's really quite simple. All you have to do is marry me."

### CHAPTER THREE

" _Marry you?"_ Gilbert tightened his fingers on the delicate shoulders, barely resisting the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and taste her sweet lips again. _Marry Bella_?

He pushed away and took a swift turn about the room before coming to stand in front of her again. " _Marry_ you? Are you crazy? We should never suit. Besides, we don't love each other."

"What has that to do with anything?" Arabella said with a frown. "We like one another well enough, or we used to anyway. Besides, it doesn't matter. It would be a marriage of convenience. They're quite popular in France, or so I've been led to believe."

Gilbert strode around the room again. He felt like one of the wild beasts locked in a cage at the Royal Exchange. "Oh, of course _. A marriage of convenience._ Are you out of your mind? Your aunt would never countenance the match and I wouldn't blame her in the least."

"I don't need her permission. I am of age, you know."

He was only too well aware of that fact. "Then start acting like it, damn it. You say you don't need her permission to marry me, yet you're allowing her to pressure you into marrying Edgar? Bloody hell."

Arabella walked over to the window and stared out. The moonlight outlined her far-from-childish figure. Gilbert cursed again. "Why don't you stand your ground and refuse to marry your cousin? You only have to hold out for three more years, and then you'll be in full possession of your fortune. Your aunt can't do a thing after that."

She turned from the window and faced him, her usually brilliant eyes far too sad for his peace of mind. "Three years might not seem a long time to you, but to me they stretch out into infinity. Life at the Hall is becoming unbearable. I've been at my wits' end trying to figure out what to do. You don't know how glad I am that you've returned. You must help me."

"Good God, Bella. They aren't beating you, are they?"

She shook her head, her short golden curls bobbing with the movement. Still she wouldn't meet his gaze. She looked more like the child he'd known, standing in that dejected sort of way. Like when she'd been thrown from her pony or fallen out of a tree. Long forgotten feelings of protectiveness rose from deep inside. He'd always hated when her spirit had suffered a blow. Gilbert took a step closer, lifted her chin with one finger and looked into those chocolate-colored eyes. "What is it, Bella? Tell me."

One tiny teardrop oozed from the corner of her eye, then another, and another. "I'd really rather not."

"Someone's hurt you, haven't they?"

She jerked out of his light grasp and dashed the tears away. "I assure you, I'm usually not such a watering pot."

"You always did hate to cry; yet sometimes, you couldn't help it. Like now?"

She sniffed defiantly and tossed her head. "I promised myself I wouldn't let them make me cry anymore. I told myself if only I could escape, then I really would have nothing to cry about. I can't think what's gotten into me."

"Something's happened, hasn't it? Has Edgar made improper advances toward you?" The thought made Gilbert's blood run cold.

"Only a few embraces and stolen kisses, nothing more. I've managed to avoid him for the most part, except lately he's become more aggressive."

Gilbert gripped his hands into hard fists. "I'll beat the bastard to a bloody pulp."

Arabella smiled. "I hope you may some day. He's the most odious toad imaginable. Maybe now you can understand why I'd rather die than marry him."

"Good God, Bella. How long has the bastard been forcing his attentions on you?"

"Almost from the moment they came to live at the Hall. But that's neither here nor there, Gilbert. I didn't run away tonight because of that. Yesterday, my aunt informed me that my uncle will soon be going to London to procure a special license. When he returns, I'll be forced to marry Edgar immediately."

"They can't force you, Bella."

"Yes, they can. Aunt has threatened to drug me senseless if I so much as make a squeak. She has it all planned out. As soon as Uncle Oslo comes back with the special license, we'll be off to Babin Court where her brother is the vicar." Her shoulders slumped and her whole body shuddered.

Gilbert hated to see her so downtrodden. He couldn't believe such an outrageous scheme was being perpetrated against her. "He's a man of the cloth, Bella. He can't marry you to Edgar if you're unwilling."

Bella shook her head. "If he's anything like his sister, he'll turn deaf ears to my protests and do the vile deed. I'm sure Aunt has promised him a generous compensation."

Gilbert gripped the back of his chair to keep from going to her. To do what, he didn't know. Something stupid, probably. "Write to your Uncle Henry and tell him what's going on. He can't allow this to happen."

"I would, except he's been in Brazil for over a year. He's a diplomat, you know. I have nowhere to go and no one else to turn to. Only you."

"Bella, you know I'd do anything to help you. But marriage? I can't do it. We'll have to think of something else."

She didn't say anything for a moment, only stared. "Why can't you?"

" _Why can't I?_ " He took a deep breath. "I'd be the worst scoundrel on earth, that's why. You deserve to marry someone who loves _you_ , not your fortune. Edgar only wants your money. If I marry you, I'd be no better than he. There'd be no difference that I can see."

"There's a huge difference," she said. "Our marriage would be a trade off. You help me; I help you. Besides, you wouldn't be the first nobleman to seek a rich wife in order to save his encumbered estates. It's not as if I'm a Cit or smell of the shop. I may not be an aristocrat like you, but I am of gentle birth."

Gilbert eyed her up and down, both admiring her figure and condemning his appreciation. "One wouldn't think it to see you dressed in those breeches."

"Oh, Gilbert, do give over," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "Don't you see? A marriage between us would solve both our problems. I wouldn't be forced to marry Edgar and you could save Cheney. I'd much rather you make use of my money than Aunt Mildred. And I'd much rather be married to you than to Edgar. You're a hundred times better than he is."

No, he wasn't that much better than Edgar. He tore his gaze away from the curve of her breasts and focused on her face. Such a lovely face. He'd be a scoundrel if he took her up on the offer.

She looked at him beseechingly. "Please, won't you marry me, Gilbert?"

He stepped forward. "Bella, I'm not sure it's the best course of action. Let me think."

She laid a hand on his arm, her touch burning through the sleeve of his robe. "Before we discuss this further, could I have something to eat? I'm famished. You see, they locked me in my room yesterday afternoon--"

" _What?"_ he yelled, all soft warm feelings replaced by a hot smoldering rage.

The grip on his arm tightened. "Shh, do be quiet. My aunt thought I might be more amenable to my immediate marriage to Edgar if my belly was empty."

He stared at her in horror. "Good God, Bella! That's absolutely barbaric? Couldn't your abigail help you?"

"Perhaps . . . _if_ I had one."

The horror intensified. "No abigail? I never heard of such a thing. What about the butler, the housekeeper? Don't any of the servants care what becomes of you?"

She shook her head. "Aunt Mildred dismissed all of our servants after my parents were killed. She hired her own, and they are quite loyal to her. Although, I don't know why; she's quite a stern employer and not fair in her dealings with them."

Gilbert couldn't believe what he was hearing. "This is sounding more and more like something right out of one of Mrs. Radcliff's novels. Or else a farce."

"Trust me, I find none of this amusing." Her stomach rumbled with hunger. "Gilbert, some food?"

"Forgive me," he said, his mind reeling with the abuse she'd suffered at her aunt's hand and her cousin's. He gathered his robe about him, as well as his composure. "Let me find my slippers, and we'll make our way down to the kitchens. Best not to wake the servants; the less people know of this little escapade, the better. At least, until we decide what's to be done."

Lighting a candle with a taper, he led the way downstairs, with Arabella following closely behind. He felt like a schoolboy again, bent on mischief with his faithful companion at his heels. He and Bella had been on many enterprising adventures when they'd been children. She was the little sister he'd never had. Another reason he couldn't marry her. Another reason why he should not want to kiss her again.

When they reached the kitchen, Gilbert immediately lit more candles. "Sit down, my dear, while I search the pantry."

He pulled a chair out from the table, and Arabella thankfully sank into it. "Bread and cheese will do," she said, "or some cold meat, and perhaps a glass of milk."

"Coming right up. I'll see what I can find."

Although he had been away from Cheney for many years, he'd raided the pantry quite regularly in his youth, so it wasn't difficult to find sustenance. He loaded a tray with a loaf of bread, two wedges of cheese, cold mutton and ham, half a portion of shepherd's pie, and a large bowl of cherries. He grabbed a pitcher of milk and two glasses, and emerged from the pantry and set his bounty on the table in front of Arabella.

"My goodness!" she said with a laugh. "I couldn't eat all of this even if I were dying from starvation."

He grinned. "Some of it's for me. I didn't eat very much at dinner, and now I'm hungry as a bear."

They sat in amiable silence while they ate. Arabella thought nothing had ever tasted so good. An empty belly was quite an unpleasant thing to reckon with. If she had not run away, would her resolve have weakened and her aunt's ploy succeeded with only a token protest?

Gilbert pushed his plate away and refilled his glass with milk. "Would you care for more?" he asked, raising the pitcher.

Swallowing the last of her bread and meat, she nodded. "Yes, please." She took a good long drink of the cool milk and set her glass on the table.

Gilbert sat there staring at her with those dark blue eyes and a half smile playing about his sculpted mouth. A mouth Arabella was beginning to notice in a bewildering adult sort of way. What would it feel like if Gilbert actually kissed her for her own sake and not because he was half asleep and foxed?

The kitchen was dim with the candles casting shadows on the walls, the house quiet with the night. Arabella's heart beat wildly as the intimacy of the moment shrouded them. Why in the world was she behaving in such an odd manner? This was Gilbert, for goodness sakes. She should not be entertaining such feelings for him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, her voice abnormally loud in her ears.

He shook his head, as if throwing off some of his thoughts. "You have a mustache of milk." Before she could say or do anything about it, Gilbert leaned across the table, took her chin in a firm grasp and wiped her upper lip with his napkin.

Many times when they were younger, he would clean the dirty smudges from her cheeks. 'To wipe away the evidence of our adventures,' he would say. Now, as then, Arabella yielded tamely while he performed the task. Except the rough and hurried chore of the past differed greatly from the gentle and slow movements of the present.

"There, that should do it." Instead of releasing her, Gilbert rubbed his thumb across her jaw line, staring at her lips, then into her eyes. He was so close, she could feel his warm breath.

"Bella . . ." His voice was low and hoarse, as if wrenched from the depths of his soul. So ragged, so intense, so full of want and desire.

With a hand not quite steady, she pushed away from Gilbert's grasp, wiping her mouth on her own napkin, whether to finish his handiwork or swipe away the lingering effects of his touch, she wasn't certain. She wasn't certain about anything at the moment. She was behaving ridiculously missish.

"Yes, well . . ." Gilbert cleared his throat and resumed his seat. "We need to talk about this plan of yours. As I said before, I would do anything in the world to help you, but there must be another solution besides a marriage of convenience between us."

"Well, there isn't as far as I can see. At least, not one as practical. Think about it, Gilbert. You told me you're at _point non-plus._ There's nothing left but to sell Cheney. You'll regret it for the rest of your life if you lose your ancestral home. Marry me and Cheney will be yours forever."

Gilbert leaned his elbows on the edge of the table and propped his forehead with his hands, clutching great tufts of hair with his strong fingers. He seemed to be wrestling with internal demons and looked the picture of despair. Again, Arabella had the absurd urge to get up, walk around the table and give him a pat on the shoulder or even a hug. But circumstances didn't allow her to offer him comfort. _Yet_.

"Gilbert?" she said, wondering what he was so worked up about.

He kept his head lowered, staring at the table. "Let me think, Bella. I need to think this through."

She frowned and shook her head at him. Why was he being so stubborn? "What is there to think about? You're not in love with someone or anything like that, are you?" For some strange reason, his answer was of the utmost importance and she held her breath.

He gripped his hair in tighter fists until the knuckles showed white and rotated his head back and forth. "No, nothing like that."

Exhaling with a whoosh, she pulled the bowl of cherries closer and carefully chose a few to eat. "Then I don't see what the problem could possibly be."

"Don't you?" Gilbert unclenched his fingers from his hair, sat back in his chair and looked at her. "You're still such a child, Bella. If you can't see the problems looming ahead if we choose such a course, I certainly can."

She frowned. "You don't understand; my case is desperate. Marriage to you is infinitely preferable to my present situation. Any problems in the unforeseeable future seem paltry in comparison."

"Suppose we do get married," he said, his voice unaccountably gruff. "What if in that unforeseeable future, you fall in love with someone else?"

"Good gracious. Is that what you're worried about? I gave up on the notion of romance and true love long ago. Don't let that concern you; I assure you, it doesn't bother me."

He stared at her, his eyebrows raised high. "You gave up on the notion? How can you do that? Your parents made a love-match. They would certainly wish for you to do the same. Didn't you make your come-out when you turned seventeen? I'm sure you took London by storm."

Another act of negligence on her aunt's part. "I was never presented. We were in black gloves for my parents at the time, and Aunt Mildred used that as an excuse for several years. She's obviously had her eye on my inheritance from the very beginning. You're my only hope, Gilbert."

### CHAPTER FOUR

"Your only hope," he said. Gilbert stared at Bella. _His only hope._ Would it be so terrible to marry her? Could he take advantage of her offer and her innocence? Her naiveté? If he didn't, he would be forced to sell the home he loved. Had he come back to Cheney Manor, only to lose it?

"Gilbert, won't you help me and let me help you?" Her low voice sounded hushed in the dim light of the candles. "Come, let us strike a bargain. Marry me, please?"

He had to laugh, and she smiled in return. "What's so funny?" she asked.

He liked how her eyes crinkled when she smiled. "I may not be the only man in England to receive a proposal of marriage from a woman, but I would bet my last shilling I'm the only man who has received a declaration from a member of the fair sex dressed in breeches. Yet, somehow it isn't as strange as it should be. You always were a madcap little girl."

"See how well you know me? We'll deal extremely well together." Bella extended her hand across the table, ready to shake. "So, shall it be marriage?"

Gilbert took the small delicate hand in his. Instead of shaking it, he leaned forward and kissed the soft skin above her knuckles. Her breath caught and she tried to pull away. He tightened his hold. "I accept your hand in marriage. I know I shouldn't, but I can't resist your very practical offer to save Cheney." He kissed her hand once more, before releasing it.

She blushed and clasped her hands together in front of her on the table. "Thank you, Gilbert. I'm sure we'll make a success of our marriage," she said, her voice soft and breathless and sexy.

They stared at one another for a long moment, when suddenly she yawned. "Goodness, I'm tired. I really need . . ."

The sound of footsteps cut her off and she looked wild-eyed at Gilbert.

_Who had they awakened?_ "Now we're in the basket," he said, holding his breath. A shadow of candlelight danced along the wall of the servants' stairwell. A loud gasp came from the housekeeper who stood frozen on the threshold.

"I'm sorry, Master Gilbert," Mrs. Kirby said. "I thought I heard voices, and I came to see who might be needing my help. Is anything amiss?" She held her candle high. " _Lawks a mercy_ , is that you, Miss Trent? However did you escape from your bedchamber?"

Gilbert's gaze collided with Arabella's in surprise.

"How did you know I'd been locked in my room?" Arabella asked.

"My niece is a kitchen maid at the Hall. She ran over after supper--Molly always comes to see me on Tuesday evenings--she told me your aunt had locked you in your room."

Gilbert rose from the table. "Mrs. Kirby, am I to understand that you knew Miss Trent was being held prisoner and you didn't think to inform me?"

The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy. "Begging your pardon, my lord. You were in no fit state to be told anything after supper this evening, what with you imbibing so freely of the brandy and all. I had every intention of telling you in the morning."

Gilbert coughed and cleared his throat. "Yes, well. . . I trust you will keep quiet about this."

"Of course, my lord."

"In point of fact, I am going to help Miss Trent out of her difficulties. You may be the first to offer us your felicitations. We're going to be married."

" _Married?_ Glory be and may the saints preserve us! We're saved! Cheney is saved!" She dabbed her eyes on the corner of her robe. "I'm sure I wish the best for both of you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kirby. That will be all. No wait! Be so good as to prepare a bedchamber for Miss Trent. She will be staying here for the present. I know it's improper, but there's nothing else for it."

The housekeeper bobbed another curtsy. "Yes, my lord. Of course. Do come along, Miss."

Bella pushed back her chair. "Gilbert, before I retire I need to retrieve my horse and put him in the stable."

"Your horse? What do you mean?"

"I mean I didn't walk all the way from Whitethorn to Cheney; I didn't want to, not in the dark anyway. I wasn't able to saddle Rufus, but I managed to sneak him out of the stables without waking the grooms. He's tethered near the old wooden bridge over the stream."

"All right," Gilbert said. "You go to bed. I'll take care of your horse."

Mrs. Kirby clucked her tongue. "Neither of you must needs do anything of the kind. Send for Joseph, my lord."

"Excellent idea. Go on to bed, Bella. Old Joseph can fetch Rufus, rub him down and give him some feed. You remember him, don't you? He's worked in the Cheney stables forever."

"Yes, but I'm afraid he won't be able to get near Rufus," Arabella said. "Not until I've introduced them. I've trained him well, and he would put up a terrible fuss, maybe even become violent. We'll both have to go, Gilbert. I'm sorry."

"No worries." He turned to Mrs. Kirby. "We'll be back soon."

"I'll see to the bedchamber and have hot bricks ready for your return." With a quick curtsy, the housekeeper hurried up the stairs leaving them alone again.

Gilbert looked at Bella. "You stay here while I change my clothes. It won't take but a few minutes." He was gone on the words.

Arabella was glad to wait in the kitchen while he dressed. Close proximity to Gilbert seemed to be wreaking delicious, yet dangerous, havoc on her nerves and senses.

The embers of the fire in the large open range glowed orange and gave off a comforting heat that lulled her into a light slumberous state. The events of the past two days had taken their toll and exhaustion quickly set in. She drifted off into a lovely dreamland devoid of the stressful and ugly goings-on that had been her lot since her parents' deaths. For the first time in five years, she felt safe and at peace.

"Bella, wake up!"

A forceful shake on her shoulder jarred Arabella out of her slumber. Slowly, she opened her eyes and blinked, disoriented for a moment. "Is it morning already?" she mumbled sleepily.

"No, it's not morning. It's the middle of the night. Come along now. The sooner we fetch your horse, the sooner we can both sleep."

The night had turned chilly; the moon was full and the stars bright. Arabella followed Gilbert to the stream that cut through the woods and formed a boundary line between their two properties. She had to run to keep up with his long strides.

"Goodness! Slow down, will you?" Arabella called, gasping for breath. "My horse will be there no matter if we run or walk." She bent over and inhaled deeply, filling her empty lungs with air. "You always did set a wicked pace whenever we explored the countryside together."

Gilbert stopped and waited for her to catch up. "And you always were a whiny-baby, if I recall correctly."

Her head snapped up. "I was not! You take that back, Gilbert St. John!"

"All right . . . maybe not always," he conceded with a chuckle. "Now, quit dawdling."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her along. When she stumbled over a twisted vine lying across the path, Gilbert caught her in his arms, holding her against him for a minute, his eyes searching her face. "Are you all right?"

Arabella's heart fluttered from the close contact. _No, she was not all right._ She pulled away from the embrace. "Yes, of course. Let's go. We're almost there."

When they reached the wooden bridge, her horse was right where she'd left him, standing quietly munching grass.

"Good God! Is that your horse?" Gilbert said, coming to an abrupt halt. "That's no lady's mount."

Arabella shrugged. "I guess I never was cut out to be a lady."

Gilbert shook his head. "First you're wearing breeches without a trace of embarrassment. And now, I find you have a horse no proper lady would dare ride."

Why in the world was he so obsessed with the proprieties when they had more important things to consider? "You sound like a prude, Gilbert. You never used to complain about my hoydenish behavior when we were children. If you're thinking I won't make you a respectable countess, I assure you that I'm perfectly capable of behaving with modesty and decorum."

He eyed her strangely. "Yes . . . my countess. You won't be wearing breeches then, I hope."

"Naturally not. At least, not often. Come on, I'll introduce you to Rufus. He's the only thing my aunt permitted me to keep when she took over Whitethorn Hall."

The huge gelding neighed a greeting and Arabella ran to him, hugging the horse's neck. "Hello, boy. Did you think I had abandoned you?" She dug a sugar cube from her breeches' pocket.

Rufus tossed his head and butted Arabella's shoulder, before lapping the treat from his mistress's outstretched hand. "Rufus, this is Gilbert St. John, the Fourth Earl of Barringer. Gilbert, meet Rufus. He's been my one true friend these past five years."

Gilbert stepped closer and rubbed the gelding's velvet nose. He hated to hear the sorrow in Bella's voice, and the thought of her being so alone after her parents' deaths tugged at his heart. "So, is Rufus ready to take us back to Cheney? We need to get a move on, Bella."

"Of course." She untied the reins from the wooden post of the bridge and hurled herself onto the horse's back, before Gilbert could offer assistance. She reached down a hand to him and he stood there, looking up at the charming face.

"You'll have to ride pillion," Bella said with a smile filled with apology. "I'm afraid Rufus doesn't care for anyone to handle the reins, except me. He's very loyal, you understand."

"I can see that." Gilbert waved away Bella's hand and mounted, settling close behind her. The heat from her body seeped through the many layers of their clothing, reminding him of how perfectly they fit together when she'd been lying under him in his bedchamber. He needed to forget about that little episode and stay focused on the obstacles ahead.

It was difficult to ignore when he was forced to hold on to Bella as she gave the horse the office to start. He felt her stiffen from the close contact, yet she didn't say anything as she maneuvered the horse over the bridge and onto the path leading back to Cheney.

"We used to ride like this when you were a little girl. Do you remember?" he said softly in her ear. She nodded, and her fluffy hair tickled his nose, her enticing scent wafting all around him.

"I remember," she said, "except most of the time, you were in front and I was in back."

"I like it better this way." The minute the words left his mouth, he was sorry. Arabella tried to move forward with little success. "Relax, Bella. Pretend we're children again if that will help with the awkwardness of the moment."

"Yes . . . yes, that's a good idea. I'm being silly, that's all."

Gilbert forced himself not to tighten his hold around her when she finally relaxed. Damn, she felt good in his arms.

"I've thought a lot about those days when we were children," she said after a bit. "Especially since my parents died. You were my best friend in the whole world, and then you left. Why do things have to change? Why can't they stay the same?"

It tore him up inside to hear the anguish in Bella's voice. "Life's all about change," he said. "Some for the better; some not."

"Well, I don't like it," she said, with a touch of defiance. Much better than the anguish, Gilbert thought.

"Things will be better soon," he said. "We'll deal well together; you said so yourself. That will be a change for the better."

"How soon before we can marry, do you think? Shall we make for Gretna Green? We can elope and have a splendid adventure; just like in the olden days."

"Don't be silly, Bella. We don't want to cause a scandal. In a few days, I'll take you to my godmother in London. She'll help us contrive, I'm sure."

"In a few days? Why not tomorrow?" she said, then yawned hugely. "I'm sorry I keep yawning. I'm so very tired."

"Here, let me take the reins."

"I'm not sure Rufus will allow it, but we can try."

Gilbert took hold of the reins above Bella's slender fingers. When the exchange was made, she leaned back against him and sighed. "This is much better, thank you. Why can we not go to London tomorrow?" she asked again.

He barely refrained from kissing the top of her head, as she settled closer. "Because I have a meeting in Southampton that can't be put off. While I'm gone, you can sleep and recuperate. You obviously need it. You're exhausted."

"What if Edgar or my aunt should come after me?"

"They don't know you're here. You didn't leave a note, did you?"

"No, but they might figure it out. They're not stupid."

Gilbert gave her a little hug. "You'll be perfectly safe at Cheney, Bella. I'll only be gone for a day and a night. Then we'll go to London and start our new life together."

Arabella snuggled closer. "Yes, our new life together. I'm _so_ glad you came home, Gilbert."

They rode the rest of the way in silence with Bella asleep in his arms. What would the future hold for them? Gilbert vowed to make life as pleasant for Bella as he was able. He would not betray her innocence and trust. He owed her that much for saving his estate.

When they reached Cheney, Gilbert guided the horse toward the stables. Joseph hurried from his bed to help unsaddle Rufus. Bella made the introductions and issued precise instructions on how to handle her cantankerous steed. After a final hug and kiss and whispered assurances to the big gelding, Gilbert led Bella to the house.

Mrs. Kirby was waiting for them at the door. "Come in, come in! You're both dead on your feet and chilled to the bone. I'll show you to your room, miss. This way."

Arabella turned toward Gilbert, her eyes large in her pale tired face. "This is goodnight then. Will I see you in the morning before you leave?"

"Probably not. I'll be making an early start. But I'll be back before you know it." Gilbert stared down at her, once again admiring her beauty. "Sleep well, Bella. Sleep well."

****

Arabella awoke midday, feeling refreshed and more carefree than she had in years. Her new life had already begun, and she looked forward to a long and happy future with Gilbert by her side.

Thinking of Gilbert made her smile. Lying in bed, she couldn't help reliving the moment last night when she'd been pinned beneath him in his big four-poster. His kisses burned in her memory. The delicious sensations he aroused burned in her blood.

And she'd felt safe in his arms as they rode Rufus back to Cheney. Safe and almost cherished. No one had cared about her welfare since her parents had died. But Gilbert cared and she cared for him. The friendship they'd shared as children would be a solid foundation for their life together.

Their marriage would be good and lasting, even though it was in name only. She would help Gilbert save Cheney, and he would help her escape marital bondage with Edgar.

Thinking of Edgar wiped the smile from her face. Arabella shivered under the blankets and thanked her lucky stars she wouldn't have to marry the little toad.

After a nice hot bath, she donned her breeches again. It couldn't be helped; she hadn't been able to bring any clothes with her in the mad dash from Whitethorn.

Making her way downstairs, she ate the luncheon Mrs. Kirby set before her. The sun was shining and the bright afternoon beckoned her outdoors. She decided to visit the stable and check on Rufus.

"Morning, Miss," Joseph doffed his cap. "That Rufus sure be a rare 'un. It's a pleasure to house such a fine steed again." He led her through the empty stables, past the four workhorses, until they stood before Rufus's stall.

Rufus tossed his head and neighed a welcome to his mistress.

"He be a bit feisty today, Miss. Mayhap, I should exercise him for you."

Arabella stroked Rufus's velvety nose and fed him a carrot from her breeches' pocket. "He wouldn't allow it. He's very particular whom he lets mount him. If you'll saddle him up, I'll take him for a ride."

"I don't know if you should, Miss, a beggin' your pardon," Joseph said. "Not alone anyways. The earl left instructions to keep a close eye on you."

The feeling of being cared for, that she mattered to someone, flowed warmly through Arabella once again. She could definitely get used to this. "He did, did he? Then come along if you must. But don't blame me if you can't keep up."

****

Arabella didn't mean to continue her ride without Joseph's escort, but when his old nag went lame, she told him to go ahead without her and she'd follow after one good gallop. She'd meant to keep her word, but when she spotted the first bluebells of the season growing near the brook, she couldn't resist stopping and picking a bouquet.

Tying Rufus to a nearby bush, Arabella quickly filled her arms with the fragrant wild flowers. Burying her nose in the soft petals, she inhaled deeply. Behind her, Rufus whinnied fretfully. She didn't hear the footsteps until it was too late. Someone grabbed her and she dropped the garland of flowers.

"Thought you could escape me, eh Cousin?" Edgar held her tightly beneath her breasts, his hot slobbery lips brushing against her ear.

Before she could scream or shout for help, he slapped his hand across her mouth. "Easy does it! Let's not make this more difficult than it needs to be. Come along peacefully, and I won't hurt you. If you struggle or make a fuss, I won't be held accountable for any injuries I may inflict." He tightened his hold, crushing the breath from her lungs, and dragged her toward Rufus. The horse reared back and stomped the ground. Edgar held Arabella with one strong arm, while untying Rufus with the other. When she tried to kick his shins to free herself, he wrenched her arm behind her back.

"Don't do that again, or I'll make you very sorry." He then smacked the horse on the rump, and Arabella watched Rufus bolt toward Whitethorn Hall.

Edgar jerked her toward the bridge. "After we're married, I'm sending that beast to auction. You may be sure of that. I've never been able to abide him. Now, let's go. My horse is just over the hill. We'll be home before you know it."

_Home?_ Whitethorn hadn't truly been her home since the day her parents had died. Arabella swallowed her tears. She'd thought she'd be safe on Gilbert's land; she wasn't that far from the house and stables, after all. She should have known better than to be lulled into a false sense of security.

Her sniveling evil cousin Edgar had obviously been on the look out. What a fool she'd been. Gilbert wouldn't know she was missing until he returned tomorrow. And that would certainly be too late. He would never find her in time.

****

After a restless night, Arabella was rudely awakened early the next morning when her aunt entered her bedchamber. "Arabella! Wake up, you abominable girl! What did you mean by running off like that? Get up! Get up! We're removing from the Hall immediately. Your uncle has already started for London to procure the special license and I'll have you and Edgar wedded and bedded this very day."

Arabella's stomach plunged so deeply, she felt sick. Gilbert would never have time to catch up with them. "And if I refuse?"

Her aunt shrugged. "I've already told you. My brother Leonard will turn a deaf ear, knowing his services will be generously rewarded. And remember what I said about making a grand fuss on the road. If you let out so much as a peep, I'll dose you with enough laudanum to make you sleep for a week. Now bustle about, you lazy girl! We leave within the hour. I'll send one of the maids to help you pack. We'll be away for a month or more. Naturally, you and Edgar must have a honeymoon." She flashed a wicked smile before hurrying out of the room and closing the door with a snap.

Arabella thought she'd never seen anything so dreadful as that awful smile. She sat up in bed. _So close!_ She'd been so close to escaping. If only she hadn't insisted on riding Rufus yesterday. She should have stayed in the house where she'd been well hidden and safe.

Pushing off the blankets, she ran to the window. Down below, one of the servants sat beneath the large oak tree keeping watch on her bedchamber. No escape there. What was she going to do?

First thing was to get dressed. She couldn't let her emotions swallow her up, or she wouldn't be able to think clearly. Washing her face and combing her hair helped to restore her spirits somewhat. She'd need to keep alert and try to escape. She'd have to rely on her own wits, because she couldn't count on Gilbert's help. They would be long gone before he even discovered she was missing.

She whirled around when the door opened and a young maid entered carrying a large portmanteau. "I'm here to help you pack, Miss," she said, bobbing a curtsy.

"I haven't seen you before. Are you new?" Arabella asked, going to her armoire and throwing open the doors.

"Yes, Miss. I've only been here a month at most and usually work in the kitchens." She set the portmanteau on the bed and joined Arabella in front of the armoire.

Arabella tried to decide which dresses to take, except her mind didn't seem to be functioning properly. She couldn't believe what was happening. Gilbert was right when he'd said it all sounded like something between the covers of a romance novel.

"Miss, I've brought some buttered toast. I wish it was more, but it was all I could manage," the maid whispered, offering her a small napkin-wrapped bundle.

"How kind of you." Arabella took the bread and made a hasty meal. There wasn't time to dally, and the food was welcome. She doubted her aunt would allow her to break her fast before starting the journey northward.

The servant girl unfastened the straps on the portmanteau. "What they're doing to you is not right, Miss. Not right, at all." She glanced toward the door, then back to Arabella. "Miss, if I may be so bold as to speak?"

"Yes, of course. What is it?" The girl seemed to be laboring under some kind of distress.

"Oh Miss! The other night when I told my aunt what they did to you, she said she would tell the new earl first thing in the morning. And then you disappeared--"

"Wait! Your aunt is Mrs. Kirby over at Cheney Manor?" Arabella asked, a glimmer of hope kindling in her breast.

The maid nodded. "I ran over there after supper, as fast as my legs would carry me. What your aunt and uncle are doing to you is sinful! I wish I could help, Miss. Is there anything I can do?"

Arabella's heart thumped loudly in her ears, and she felt tears threatening to fall. This was no time to cry; she must think quickly. By some stroke of providence, it seemed she finally had an ally inside the walls of Whitethorn. "Maybe you _can_ help me. What's your name?"

"Molly," she said, bobbing another curtsy. "I'll do anything, Miss. _Anything_."

"Thank you, Molly. You've given me much needed hope. You may pack for me, while I write a note to Gilbert. Gilbert is the Earl of Barringer and my friend _."_ Arabella grabbed several dresses from the wardrobe and handed them to the maid. "My petticoats and stockings are in that chest over there by the window. Hurry now, we haven't much time."

While the maid packed the clothes, Arabella sat at her desk to compose the letter. Her heart raced and her hands trembled as she dipped her pen in the inkwell. After a quick moment of reflection, she wrote swiftly and to the point. Reading it once through, Arabella was not quite satisfied, but there was little time for corrections. Would Gilbert recognize the pledge of their youth? Arabella could only hope that he would. Rising from her desk, she twisted the note into a screw and handed it to Molly. "The earl is aware of my predicament. As soon as he discovers I'm missing, I know he'll come directly to Whitethorn. When he arrives, it's imperative that you give him this note."

"After you leave, should I run it over to the manor, Miss?"

"No, better for you to stay here and wait for him. I'm not sure when he returns and you might miss him on the way. I'm depending on you, Molly. Do you understand how important this is?"

"Oh yes, Miss. I'll guard it with my life." She tucked the twisted screw of paper inside her bodice. "I won't fail you, Miss. You can count on me."

"Thank you. And if you get into trouble, go to your aunt at Cheney Manor. There will be a job there for you, I promise."

### CHAPTER FIVE

Gilbert arrived home from Southampton midmorning to the news that Bella had gone missing yesterday afternoon. Joseph met him in the stable yard, looking grim as he clutched his cap in his gnarled hands. "I'm that glad yer home, me lord. Something terrible's happened. I feel it in me bones. I shouldn't a let her have that last gallop alone. She promised she'd be right behind me. It wasn't twenty minutes afore I went back to where we'd parted ways. But there was no sign of her."

Gilbert strode toward the house with Joseph following close behind. A steel band clamped around his chest, squashing the breath from his lungs at the thought of Bella in danger. "You don't think she was thrown from her horse?" His throat tightened painfully at the possibility.

Joseph shook his head. "Nay. I've searched and searched. She's nowhere on the property. I do believe there's been mischief afoot. I found a scuffling of footprints near the brook and a garland of bluebells dropped on the ground."

Gilbert stopped at the door. Oh yes. There was definitely mischief afoot. "I believe I know where she is. Saddle one of the horses. I'll be leaving immediately."

Ten minutes later, Gilbert rode over the stream and toward Whitethorn, his heart pounding with cold dread. Silently, he cursed the nag he was forced to mount. Compared to Rufus, this horse was slower than a slug. Every minute seemed like an hour. Gilbert urged the horse to go faster with a few hard nudges from his spurs. Would he be in time to save Bella? Had her cousin abducted her? Was she at the Hall or had Edgar taken her off to God knows where?

The overwhelming desire to see Bella again and make sure she was safe was driving him mad. He wanted to look into Bella's beautiful brown eyes and smell her beguiling scent again. He wanted to hold her in his arms and protect her from all danger. He'd missed her while he'd been away. He'd dreamed about her last night.

_Damn, had there ever been a slower horse?_ His nerves stretched thin with worry for Bella. She had to be all right. She just had to be!

By the time Gilbert reached Whitethorn Hall, his over-active imagination had made him break out into a cold sweat. Glancing around, everything looked and sounded unusually quiet. No groom came running to take his horse, which was odd.

A horrible premonition took hold of him. He quickly dismounted, tied the reins to a post near one of the outbuildings, and strode determinedly toward the front door of the old Elizabethan house.

Pulling the bell, he waited impatiently for the butler to answer the summons. Every second ticked by with excruciating slowness. The sound of the drawn bolt grated on Gilbert's ears. The door creaked opened and a tall lanky man dressed in funereal black stared at him out of hard, grey eyes. "May I help you, sir?" he said, his voice devoid of expression.

"I demand to see Miss Arabella Trent. Tell your mistress the Earl of Barringer has called. You may give her my card." Gilbert reached in his coat pocket and produced a calling card, which he handed to the butler.

The gaunt-faced man read it, shook his head and then handed it back to Gilbert. "The family has been called away on an emergency, my lord. They've given most of the servants a holiday. I don't know when they will return. Good day." Before Gilbert could react, the butler rudely shut the door in his face.

_Gone? Bella was gone?_ They'd kidnapped her! Where had they taken her? Think Gilbert. Think.

He pulled the bell again and rapped loudly on the door with his knuckles. He wanted answers, damn it. Anger and fear battled inside his chest. How could he have let Bella down like this? He should never have gone to Southampton. He should have taken her to London immediately. He'd foolishly believed she'd been safe at Cheney.

Another pull of the bell and knock on the door produced no reaction whatsoever. The butler had obviously dismissed the earl and taken himself off to the nether regions of the Hall.

Gilbert slowly walked back to his horse, considering his next move. Bella was counting on his help. She'd placed her safety, her _life_ in his hands and he'd bungled it. Damn, hadn't he learned anything these past ten years?

He eyed the sorry excuse for a horse in disgust, wondering how he'd sunk so low. He was the Earl of Barringer, yet without funds, the title was empty. Worthless. How quickly and selflessly Bella had offered her fortune as well as herself to help save Cheney. He owed her, but what to do? Where to start? He kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot, frustration roiling in the pit of his stomach.

Gathering the reins, he prepared to mount and take himself off to Cheney, since it seemed pointless to look for help from anyone here at the Hall, if indeed there was anyone here besides that impertinent butler.

"My lord?" said a feminine voice behind him. "I must speak with you, if you please?"

Gilbert looked over his shoulder at the servant girl bobbing a curtsy. "Yes? What is it?"

"I have a message for you from Miss Trent." The girl extended her arm and opened her hand revealing a twisted screw of paper resting on her palm.

"A note?" With his heart beating loudly in his ears, Gilbert snatched the paper from the girl, spread it open and scanned the contents.

Dearest Gilbert,

My aunt is determined to see me married to Edgar before this day is done. Uncle has gone to London for the special license, and we are to meet him at Babin Court in Watford where Aunt's brother will perform the ceremony.

As I told you, she has threatened to drug me into insensibility if I do not cooperate. I need your help desperately, dear friend. Don't fail me now.

Take Rufus. He's here at Whitethorn. If he makes a fuss, whisper these words in his ear: Slay the dragon!

As ever, Bella

Gilbert crushed the note in a fist. He and Bella had slain countless imaginary dragons while playing in the woods together as children. Today, they faced very real and formidable dragons in the guise of her aunt, uncle and abominable cousin.

"Is there anything I can do to help, my lord?" the servant girl asked.

He had forgotten the maid who'd delivered the note. "How is it you're willing to help Miss Trent? I thought all of the servants were loyal to her aunt.

She bobbed another curtsy. "I didn't know all the evil goings-on, until after I was hired a month ago. I'd quit, 'cept me mum needs the money for the little ones at home. Please, my lord. Let me help."

Gilbert stuffed the note in his coat pocket. "I'm going after her, of course. If only it's not too late. I must saddle Rufus at once, and leave my horse here. Come along to the stables. How many grooms stayed behind?"

"Only one," she said. "Clem's in the kitchen talking to Mrs. Stroper."

"All right, you keep watch, while I saddle Rufus. Then you may take care of this horse for me."

Leaving the girl standing guard at the stable doors, Gilbert walked down the rows of stalls, looking in each with no luck until he came to the last one on the right. "There you are, boy. Let me find a saddle, then you and I are going to rescue your mistress."

After a quick search, he found a saddle and returned to Rufus' stall. When he opened the gate, the huge gelding reared his head and rolled his eyes, backing away, stomping and snorting. "Easy, boy, easy. There's no time to lose. Bella's counting on us both."

The clomping of shoes on the stable floors jerked Gilbert's attention away from the horse. The servant girl came running toward him. "My lord! My lord! Clem's a comin' this way!" she hissed in warning.

"Now we're in for it." Gilbert stepped out of the stall, closing the gate behind him. "What's your name, girl?"

"Molly, my lord."

"Well Molly, I suggest you find a place to hide. And don't come out until I say you may."

"But, my lord--"

"Go!"

Molly hiked up her skirts and scrambled over the low railings of an empty stall opposite Rufus. Gilbert stood with feet apart and arms akimbo, waiting for the groom's arrival. When the man saw Gilbert, he raced toward him. "Hey! What are yer doing there, mate?"

"Stealing your mistress's horse, of course."

"Oh ho! We'll see about that." Clem charged full-speed ahead.

When the groom reached him, Gilbert landed him a powerful punch to the chin that sent Clem hurtling backwards, where he landed on a pile of manure, knocked out cold.

Gilbert wiped his hands on his breeches, wishing it were Bella's odious cousin he could beat to a pulp. Time enough for that when he caught up with her.

Molly peeked over the railings. "Oh, my lord! I never saw nothing like it, I swear."

Straightening his cravat, Gilbert surveyed his handiwork. "He won't be bothering us for a little while. Molly, go get my horse, and put her in a stall. Give her some oats and water, if you will. I must saddle Rufus and be off."

The girl ran to do his bidding, and Gilbert returned to the task of calming Bella's nervous horse. As soon as he opened the gate and entered the stall, Rufus began snorting and pawing the floor again.

Gilbert stayed where he was for a moment watching the horse. He recalled Bella saying how the big gelding had been her only friend these past five years. His heart ached remembering the sadness in her voice. He swore he would do his best to make their life together so full of happy memories that the past would be overshadowed and hopefully forgotten.

Pushing the thoughts aside, Gilbert set to work on Rufus. If he didn't get the horse saddled soon, he might be too late to save Bella. That horrifying thought spurred him into action. As soon as he moved forward, Rufus eyed him warily, backing into the corner.

Bearing in mind what Bella had told him in her note if he should find Rufus reluctant, Gilbert slowly walked forward, so as not to spook the horse even more. "Easy, boy. Easy. Settle down. I won't hurt you. Good boy . . . That's a good boy." He took hold of Rufus's bridle and rubbed his nose and forehead in a soothing fashion. The horse bucked his head and tried to move away. Leaning closer and feeling somewhat ridiculous, Gilbert spoke the childish phrase in his ear. " _Slay the dragon_." Immediately, Rufus calmed down.

"Well, I'll be damned." Gilbert grabbed the saddle and tossed it onto the horse's back, tightening the girth and adjusting the stirrups, all the while speaking in a soft encouraging voice.

Leading the big horse out into the yard, Gilbert hoisted himself into the saddle. Rufus flattened his ears and reared back, trying to buck him off. For several seconds, he had his hands full with the struggling horse. Again, he whispered the phrase and again it worked like magic.

When he twitched the reins, giving the signal to go, Rufus responded like a champ. Waving to Molly, Gilbert set off at a brisk pace in the direction of Watford.

****

Arabella feigned sleep as the carriage clipped along the post-road leading to Watford, carrying her farther away from Gilbert and closer to an unthinkable future with a detestable husband. She wondered if Molly had given the note to Gilbert yet. Had he been able to saddle and ride Rufus? Had Rufus accepted the childhood pledge from Gilbert?

She had trained the horse to stand still when she whispered those words in his ear. Rufus had always been high-spirited and stubborn; saying the pledge had not only calmed him down, it had helped Arabella sustain the stressful life imposed upon her after her parents' deaths. The pledge called to mind how she and Gilbert had fought imaginary dragons against all odds; it had given her strength to endure.

"Arabella! Wake up you lazy creature!" Aunt Mildred said, poking her with the toe of her large shoe. "Wake up, I say! We must stop to change horses, and we'll stretch our legs and seek refreshment. I need not remind you what consequences you'll bring upon yourself if you so much as hint that you are not perfectly happy with your situation."

"Yes, Aunt." Sitting up straight in the seat, Arabella tried to shake off the despondency that had settled over her like the heavy woolen cloak she wore. What if Gilbert failed her? What if he didn't arrive in time to put a stop to the dreadful marriage ceremony? She shuddered at the thought.

"Cold, Cousin? You won't be for long, I dare say." Edgar ogled her with his fish-like eyes as if he were imagining her without a stitch of clothing on.

Arabella lifted her chin. She'd be damned if she'd give Edgar the satisfaction of knowing how helpless she felt. "No, I'm not cold in the least. Thank you for your solicitude. Your kindness quite overwhelms me."

Edgar's wicked chuckle made her skin crawl. "I like my women to show spirit. We're well matched, Cousin. I'll enjoy taming you."

"That's quite enough of that kind of talk, Edgar," Aunt Mildred said. "There will be time enough when you're wedded and bedded."

Edgar laughed and winked at Arabella. She turned away to gaze out the window, trying to ignore his vulgar familiarity. As her aunt's words sunk in, horrific images bombarded her mind, and she thought she might truly be ill.

The coach slowed down and soon was rolling noisily over the cobblestones of the small town of Frimley. At last, they halted at the posting house where they would change horses and rest a bit.

"Come along, Arabella. Don't dawdle," Aunt Mildred said, climbing down from the carriage.

She followed her aunt into the hostelry, with Edgar bringing up the rear. With his hand resting on the small of her back, Arabella willed herself to endure. She couldn't shake off the offending hand, lest she create a scene and bring her aunt's wrath down upon her.

Some how, some way, she must find a way to escape. Even though the prospect of being alone and stranded so far from home, with no money or acquaintance, cast her into an agony of despair, she would not, could not marry her lascivious cousin Edgar.

Oh Gilbert! Where are you?

### CHAPTER SIX

Gilbert gazed at the setting sun, the sky a brilliant purple and orange. He needed to cover as much ground as quickly as possible if he wanted to intercept Bella's carriage before it arrived in Watford. Touching his spurs to Rufus's flanks, he urged him onward. Gilbert rewarded the horse's quick obedience with a pat on the neck and the promise of a treat when they reached their quarry.

Rufus was a joy to ride, reminding Gilbert of Trojan. His faithful horse and comrade had been one of the thousands of casualties at the Battle of Waterloo. When Trojan had been shot out from beneath him, Gilbert had thought he'd be killed next. That's when a blow to the head had knocked him unconscious. Hours later, he'd awakened in hospital, with the news that the battle was over, the British had won, the death toll enormous. He'd spent several weeks in convalescence recuperating from his injuries. Many a tedious hour had been whiled away remembering the days of his youth--before his father had purchased him his pair of colors, before he'd seen battle and witnessed so much horror.

He'd thought about Bella during that time. The Bella of his dreams had been a spirited young girl, fearlessly following him into numerous scrapes and adventures. Oh yes, he'd teased her and called her a whiney-baby the other night. _Had it only been two nights ago_? For the most part, she'd always been game as a pebble. And still was, as far as he could tell.

He had never failed to pull her out of tight spots when they'd been children; he didn't intend to let her down now. The sun was fast sinking below the horizon, and time was slipping away.

"Come on, Rufus. Show me what you've got. We must rescue our lady, before it's too late."

****

Arabella sat in the vicarage parlor, back ramrod straight, her pulse beating rapidly. She gazed out the darkened window, night having fallen some hours ago. Weary with fatigue, her brain was numb, her hands cold, her spirits low. No opportunity to escape had presented itself while on the road.

Aunt Mildred and the vicar stood near the fireplace, their voices buzzing as if from far away. Arabella knew she was the subject under discussion, yet she hadn't enough energy to catch the gist of the words other than the fact that her uncle had not yet arrived from London with the special license.

Perhaps if she rested a bit, she could recruit her strength and turn this unexpected delay to advantage. She couldn't afford to wait on Gilbert. Something must have happened, and Molly had been unable to deliver the note into his hands. Turning her head slightly to the right, she could see Edgar sitting at his ease, even now ogling her with those watery protuberant eyes. Starving in a ditch would be preferable to being married to her odious cousin.

She returned her gaze to the window, only too thankful he was leaving her alone for the moment. His escort from the carriage to the front door of the vicarage, with his despicable hand again on the small of her back, Arabella's resolve to escape had only strengthened.

Heaving a sigh, she blinked back tears. How had her life come to this? She hated feeling so helpless. _Think of a way to escape, Bella!_ _Think!_

Perhaps if her aunt granted her leave to use the chamber pot, she could make her getaway and hide herself in the night. Thank goodness she was wearing her heavy cloak for it had turned nippy with the setting of the sun. By hook or by crook, she would return to Cheney Manor, even if she were forced to walk the whole distance. Anything was better than marrying Edgar.

Oh, Gilbert, I need you desperately.

****

Gilbert silently cursed his bad luck. Like an idiot, he had taken a wrong turn at the crossroads near Aldershot and ended up several miles from his intended destination before discovering his mistake. Any hope of intercepting Arabella's coach before it reached Watford vanished as he backtracked and made his way northward again.

What if he was too late? What if that aunt of hers had already succeeded in wedding Bella to her detestable son?

Gilbert clenched the reins in tight fists. The thought of Edgar kissing and touching Bella turned his blood to ice. He would see the bastard in hell before he would let him have Bella to wife. If he were too late to stop the ceremony, then Bella would be a widow soon after becoming a bride.

Gilbert didn't know when his feelings for Bella had changed, yet sometime during this mad dash to her rescue, mounted on the back of Rufus, the dearest creature of Bella's heart, somewhere along the way his feelings about her had definitely changed.

When she had climbed through his bedroom window and tried to wake him, leaning over him on his bed, he had responded instinctively to the soft voice and scent of a woman. Gilbert remembered her sweet response to his kisses, the feel of her nestled against his sheet-clad body, the rock-hard arousal from the contact.

Her proposal for a marriage of convenience had stunned him. As she sat at the kitchen table eating and explaining her problem, an overwhelming sense of protectiveness displaced all other emotion. He wanted to ease her burdens, to make her smile again, help her any way he could. He would even marry her, if need be.

When he'd arrived at Whitethorn Hall and found she'd been whisked away by her aunt, his whole world came tumbling down. He had suddenly discovered that he didn't want to marry Bella simply because it would be convenient for them both. No, he wanted to marry her because he loved her as a man loves a woman, and he wanted to spend his life with her.

Except Bella didn't love him in that way, so he would save her from marrying her despicable cousin, and live with her on her terms even if it killed him.

****

With time passing quickly and her uncle's arrival imminent, Arabella knew she couldn't wait any longer to embark on her last desperate bid for freedom. Rising from her chair near the fire, she purposefully made her way across the parlor. "Pardon me, Aunt Mildred?"

Her aunt turned to her with a frown. "What is it, girl? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"I'm sorry, Aunt. I need to freshen up, if I may?"

"Allow me to escort you, Cousin." Edgar came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them with a familiarity and possessiveness that left her nauseous.

The vicar coughed. "Really, Mildred. I say . . . is this display of affection necessary?"

"Edgar, don't be vulgar," his mother said. "He's anxious to make her his wife, Leonard. You know how it is with young people."

The vicar sniffed. "Yes, but in these circumstances, it is quite uncalled for."

Arabella silently agreed. "Aunt, may I be excused? I won't be but a moment." She waited with breath held. Would her aunt insist on Edgar accompanying her?

Mildred eyed her up and down. "Go on then, but don't be too long, or I will send Edgar in search of you."

Edgar stepped forward. "Mother, do you think it's wise to let her go alone?"

"Don't be any more stupid than you already are," said his loving mother. "She's not going to run away in the dark. Sit down and curb your impatience."

"Five minutes, girl." Her aunt turned back to the vicar and continued to lament about Oslo's unanticipated delay.

Arabella slipped out the parlor door, quickly looking about for any servants lurking in the hall who might call a halt to her escape. Finding the coast clear, she hurried to the front door and pulled back the bolt. Looking over her shoulder to see if the noise had alerted anyone, she drew a deep sigh of relief. With a short prayer of thanks, she opened the door only to be caught up short.

"And where do you think you're going, my dear niece?"

_"_ Uncle Oslo!" So close, she'd been so close to freedom.

"As I live and breathe," he said. "You didn't think I would miss your wedding, did you, my girl? Now, I can't help but wonder . . . Why are _you_ answering the front door of the vicarage? Surely, you're not trying to run away?"

Stepping inside, he closed the door with a snap. He took her elbow in a firm, unyielding grip, turned her around and escorted her back to the parlor.

Arabella's shoulders sagged under the weight of this last defeat. Desperately, she tried to think of another means of escape, but her brain had turned to mush and her body was numb with weariness. Hopelessness settled upon her.

"Oslo, thank God you've arrived!" Aunt Mildred cried out in welcome. "But what is the meaning of this? What has the tiresome chit been up to now?"

"Trying to give us the slip, dear wife."

"You wretched girl. Do sit down and try to behave." Mildred turned to her husband. "Was your trip successful, Oslo? Were you able to procure the special license?"

"Yes, yes, my dear. No worries." He pulled a packet from his coat pocket and handed it to the vicar. "Here you go, Leonard. I would have been here sooner, but the carriage lost a wheel and we had to stop on the outskirts of London to have it repaired. All's right as a trivet now, I believe. Nothing to stop us, eh my love?"

"Oh, Oslo! I knew I could count on you. Leonard, shall we walk over to the church? I do wish for Edgar to be married properly. It's bad enough to do it in such a haphazard way. I would rather not cause too much talk, you know."

Leonard examined the special license. "All seems to be in order. Well done, Oslo. Well done, indeed. You hold on to it for safe keeping," he said, handing the license back to Oslo. "Now, let us adjourn to the church. There's no time to lose."

"Come along, Arabella," said Aunt Mildred. "Don't dawdle now."

Arabella slowly rose from her chair. She felt as if she were one of the French aristocrats being led to the guillotine. All that was missing was the tumbrel and the executioner. With a heavy heart, she walked behind her aunt and uncle, with Edgar bringing up the rear. She tried not to flinch when he placed his hand on the small of her back. Swallowing the bile rising in her throat, she prayed for a miracle.

****

Gilbert stared at the twinkling stars in the black velvet sky up above. It would be a miracle if he arrived in time to save Bella. For all he knew, she was probably wedded by now. And then what? The bride and groom wouldn't be staying the night with the vicar, would they? No, Bella would be whisked away again, farther out of his reach. He urged Rufus to pick up the pace.

On the road up ahead, the meager lights of Watford shone through the darkness. Gilbert trotted along the cobblestones of the town, turning west at the town square and riding a couple of miles until the spire of a church came into sight. The stained-glass windows glimmered like soft jewels in the night. Someone was inside. Perhaps he wasn't too late after all.

Gilbert tied Rufus to a post and made his way up the steps to the great oak doors of the old church. He hadn't given much thought as to what he would say or do once he arrived on the scene. He hoped by the grace of God he had come in time to stop the wedding. _If not . . ._

Red-hot anger filled his soul; a furious rage almost blinded him with its intensity. _Bella was his._ She'd _always_ been his. Why had he never realized it until now?

### CHAPTER SEVEN

Arabella stood in the front of the church with Edgar on her right, flanked on each side by her aunt and uncle serving as witnesses, with Aunt Mildred's brother performing the wedding ceremony. She tried not to cry, yet the tears could not be stopped. If Gilbert failed to come, then she would be forced to do something drastic. It was a sin to take one's own life, but the thought of lying with Edgar filled her with such revulsion, she would rather die than suffer his touch.

Still weary with fatigue, with nerves stretched almost beyond endurance, the vicar's voice whirred against her eardrums like a bee buzzing in the garden. What would happen if she pretended to tumble to the floor in a dead faint? How would her aunt and uncle react? Would the vicar stop the ceremony? Would she perhaps gain a bit of time?

Oh Gilbert . . .

The great metal hinges on one of the church doors grated noisily. Had someone entered? Arabella's heart lurched in her chest. _Dare she hope?_ She couldn't bear to look. Surely, it was only her imagination, her wishful thinking making her hear such things. Gilbert was not coming. She knew if he had received her note, nothing would have stopped him from rushing to her aid. He should have been here by now. No, Gilbert was not coming.

Aunt Mildred turned to look, her dark green crinoline rustling in the suddenly silent church. "No!" she hissed under her breath.

The vicar snapped his book shut and stared toward the back of the church. Edgar and his father also turned.

"Keep reading, you fool!" Aunt Mildred said to her brother.

"I believe the game's up, dear sister."

Still afraid to hope, Arabella peeked over her shoulder and an overwhelming relief flooded her system. "Gilbert! Thank God!" She lifted her skirts and ran down the aisle, straight into his arms.

Gilbert held her close. "I'm here, Bella. I'm here."

Arabella clutched the lapels of his coat. "I thought you weren't coming," she said, her body trembling beneath his hands. "I ought to have known you wouldn't fail me."

His heart ripped in two at the distress in her voice. He kissed her hair and hugged her tight. "I'm sorry I took so long. I came as fast as I could. Everything will be all right now. I'll keep you safe."

"Let her go! She's mine!" Edgar marched toward them, his hands clenched into fists. His mother, father and the vicar followed close behind.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before you touch her again," Gilbert said, holding Bella against him.

The vicar sniffed. "Such language in the house of God!"

"Don't make me laugh," Gilbert said. "You sicken me. All of you sicken me. If not for the scandal, I would fetch a magistrate and have you locked up. As it stands now--"

"I said to unhand my wife!" Edgar stepped forward, reaching for Arabella's hand.

" _Your wife?_ " The red haze of anger rose up inside him again. Gilbert set Bella behind him and advanced menacingly toward Edgar.

Arabella watched as he wrapped his fingers around her cousin's throat and began choking the life out of him.

The vicar gasped. "I say! There's no call for violence. Here now, let the boy go."

"Unhand my son!" Uncle Oslo commanded, as Aunt Mildred let out a piercing scream.

After one satisfying moment of seeing Edgar receive his just deserts, Arabella grabbed Gilbert's arm and pulled with all her might. It had no effect whatsoever. "Stop it at once! Gilbert, you mustn't kill him. I am _not_ Edgar's wife. Listen to me. I'm not his wife, nor will I ever be. You arrived in time. Gilbert, stop!"

The savage desire to kill Edgar gradually faded as Bella's words penetrated the mists of Gilbert's fury. He loosened his death grip on the man and pushed him away.

Edgar stumbled back against one of the pews and barely caught himself from falling to the floor. His mother ran to offer comfort. Together, they stood glaring at Gilbert. Edgar rubbed his abused neck. "Name your seconds, my lord!"

"Any time, any place." Gilbert narrowed his eyes, wishing he still had his hands around the bastard's throat.

Uncle Oslo stepped forward. "Edgar, don't be an idiot. You can't call him out. The game's up as Leonard said."

Gilbert turned to Bella. He wanted to scoop her back into his arms where she belonged. Instead, he took her hand in a strong clasp. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine now that you're here," Arabella reassured him with a smile. His presence gave her the courage she needed. Her world had suddenly righted itself. Her nightmare was over at last.

She straightened her shoulders, and with great determination, faced her aunt and uncle and cousin. "I've borne your encroachment and greediness these past five years because I had no other choice. That has changed, now that Gilbert has returned. I'll give you one week to gather your belongings and move out of Whitethorn Hall. And I hope never to see any of you ever again."

Aunt Mildred smiled maliciously. "You seem to forget, dear niece, that your uncle is one of your trustees. Your fortune is tied up for three more years. What will you do for money? How will you live?"

Arabella smiled sweetly in return. "Why, can't you guess? I'm going to be married. The earl and I are betrothed."

Her aunt's smile promptly disappeared. "Betrothed? I don't believe it! When? How?"

"Since the night I ran away," Arabella said. "Gilbert and I have known each other from the cradle. We understand one another perfectly. Ours will be a happy union."

She turned to her uncle, eyeing him up and down with disgust. "I cannot understand how my father came to have a brother as deceitful as you. You're a disgrace to our good name."

"Arabella," Aunt Mildred warned, "if you leave here with the earl and spend the night together, it is you who will be in disgrace. You'll be ruined, my girl. And do not think it will remain a secret. I'll see to that."

"You fool!" Uncle Oslo said to his wife.

"I must agree with your husband, Madam," Gilbert said. "If you so much as whisper about Arabella's reputation, then I'm afraid we will have no choice but to bring charges against all four of you. Come along, Bella."

"Wait a moment." She walked over to her uncle. "I'll take possession of that special license, if you please."

"And what if I don't please?" he said with a sneer.

Gilbert came to stand by her side. "Why do you want it, Bella? It's of no use to us, you know."

Not trusting her unscrupulous relatives for a moment, Arabella wished to leave nothing to chance. "I know, but I wouldn't put it past them to forge my signature in the church registry and declare this marriage took place and is legal and valid. Money does strange things to people. The license, Uncle." She held out her hand.

Oslo reached inside his coat pocket and extracted the license. "You're an ungrateful, wench. Always were." He slapped the packet in her hand and turned away.

Arabella scanned the contents, making certain it was indeed the license, then slipped it inside her cloak. "Now I'm ready, Gilbert. Let us leave immediately."

Once outside the church, Arabella ran to her horse and hugged him tightly. "Rufus! How glad I am to see you!" Her smile of pleasure warmed Gilbert's heart.

"We need to be off, Bella. The night's not getting any younger," he said, his voice gruff with suppressed emotion. He grasped her by the waist and lifted her to the saddle. "Hold the reins while I mount behind you."

Arabella held them and bent forward to rub the horse's sleek neck. "Good boy, Rufus. You've ridden hard today, haven't you? Just a little bit longer, and then you'll have a well-deserved rest."

Gilbert took the reins in his hands, and Arabella settled against him. "Now we shall do," she said with a sigh. "I'm so tired. You won't mind if I fall asleep, will you?"

He kissed her hair, breathing deeply of her enchanting scent. "I won't mind. You're safe now, Bella."

"Thank you, Gilbert." She snuggled closer, resting her head against his shoulder. "Where will we go? It's too late to return to Cheney and we can't stay at an inn, because we have no baggage. Aunt Mildred was right. I'll be ruined. Not that I really care; still, I would much rather not be."

Gilbert turned Rufus toward the east and started down the road. "You won't be ruined; no one will know of this night's deeds. We'll go to London like we planned and wed as soon as possible." And somehow, he would keep his love for her a secret.

"But surely not tonight," she said, adjusting her position again. "London's too far, and I'm afraid I wouldn't make it. I'm so very tired, you see."

Her every movement proved to be sweet torture for Gilbert. "Rufus wouldn't make it either. No, we'll sleep beneath the stars tonight. You'll like that, Bella. I stopped and bought blankets and food."

She yawned again. "Is that what's in the bundle behind the saddle? I was wondering. I've never slept under the stars before, have you?"

"I have and often." Gilbert touched his lips to her hair one more time. The last time. After this, he had to keep his lips and hands to himself. "Soldiers do, you know."

"Ah, yes. I should have remembered that." She nestled closer. "This feels nice, Gilbert. I'm going to sleep a little now."

"Sweet dreams, Bella."

With the full moon high in the night sky, Gilbert kept Rufus to a slow and steady pace, traveling away from Watford toward the post road leading to London. With Bella in his arms and sleeping close against him, his body responded with an alacrity that left him hard and aching.

He didn't want to frighten her. She was a virgin and innocent of any carnal knowledge. But oh, how he longed to initiate her into the pleasures of the flesh.

A little ways up ahead, Gilbert spotted a wooded copse and decided to make camp for what was left of the night. He guided Rufus off the road and into the thicket.

"Bella, wake up," he said softly in her ear. Her silky golden hair brushed against his cheek, and he smoothed it back against her brow, inhaling her sweet fragrance, barely refraining from kissing her as he'd been longing to do ever since he'd found her. It was going to be a long tortuous night.

He gave her shoulder a gentle shake. "Bella? Wake up, love."

Her eyes fluttered open and she stiffened within his embrace. "What? Who?"

"It's me, Gilbert. You're perfectly safe."

Immediately, she relaxed and smiled. "Where are we? How long since we left the church?"

"We've been riding for about an hour, and we're still miles from London. It's getting late, so we're going to make camp here. Hold the reins, while I dismount."

She blinked owlishly and took hold of the reins. Once on the ground, Gilbert helped her from the saddle, and couldn't resist letting her slide down the length of his body. He was only human, after all.

Arabella stared up into Gilbert's face, searching his eyes, wondering what he was thinking. She pulled away from him and stepped back, looking about the small clearing where they'd stopped to make camp. The night breeze whipped around her, and she pulled her cloak more tightly around her shoulders.

Gilbert unfastened the bulky bundle from behind the saddle, then he rubbed Rufus down, all the while murmuring words of praise and encouragement to the horse.

He had grown into a handsome and honorable man. She had loved him like a brother, yet somehow that had changed. Quickly turning away, she walked a bit to stretch her legs. Sleeping in Gilbert's arms was about as close to heaven as she'd ever known. She'd felt so safe and cared for. When he'd helped her down from Rufus's back, the friction between their bodies made her remember the exquisite awareness she'd felt when he'd kissed her in his bed.

Oh yes, her feelings for Gilbert had definitely changed. She still loved him, except now it was different. She didn't know how it could have changed so quickly, but it had. When she'd proposed a marriage of convenience between them, Arabella had still looked upon Gilbert as the dear friend of her youth.

The subsequent chain of events during the past two days had worked to alter her feelings for him. Talking over old times while sharing a midnight snack in Cheney's candle-lit kitchen had reminded her how dear he was and how much she'd missed him. The moonlight ride from the stream where they'd retrieved Rufus and taken him to the stables at Cheney had reinforced the sexual awareness his kiss had awakened. She'd held herself rigid during that ride, fighting the new feelings his touch evoked because they seemed inappropriate and out of place.

Combined with the helplessness she'd suffered during that interminable carriage ride to the vicarage and the revulsion of Edgar's every touch, her yearning for Gilbert had grown a hundred fold. When he had appeared at the back of the church just in the nick of time to save her, Arabella knew she loved him with all her heart, as a woman loves a man.

And now there was this night to get through. Gilbert had agreed to marry her because he needed the money for Cheney. Sure, he'd kissed her, but he'd been half asleep and foxed into the bargain. He hadn't kissed _her_ ; she'd merely been an available female and conveniently at hand. How could she ever forget his anger and embarrassment when he'd discovered her identity?

"Bella?"

She hadn't heard his approach, and his deep voice oozed over her like a warm cup of chocolate on a cold winter's morning. Pushing away her tangled thoughts, Arabella turned to face him. "Is Rufus all right?" she said. "I never asked how he reacted to you saddling and riding him. And he's brought you all this way; I knew he could do it. I knew you could do it, too." She looked down at her shoes, feeling a bit awkward with this new awareness for Gilbert.

The leaves crunched beneath his boots as he stepped closer. When he put his hands on her shoulders, his touch burned through the thick woolen fabric of her traveling cloak. Gilbert placed a finger under her chin and nudged her to look up at him. "Oh, Bella. Dear God, you can't know how scared I was for you. I should never have left you alone at Cheney. When I discovered you were missing, I died a thousand deaths. And when I found that your aunt had dragged you away, I felt sick with apprehension. Can you ever forgive me?"

Arabella nodded. "Of course, I forgive you. I'm so thankful you came in time to save me from . . ." She shuddered and extracted herself from Gilbert's hold. Swallowing a sob, she turned away, fighting the desire to throw herself in his arms, to feel again the comfort and safety of his embrace.

She searched frantically in her reticule for a handkerchief, but couldn't find it. Tossing the bag to the ground, she ran toward Rufus and buried her head in the horse's neck. She allowed the tears she'd held back for so long to flow unheeded, crying as if her heart were breaking. Crying as if she'd never stop.

### CHAPTER EIGHT

Gilbert watched Bella fiercely hug Rufus, sobbing her heart out. His chest ached for her misery and despair. He had always felt protective of Bella. Now, his feelings were mixed with possessiveness and love, and they were stronger than ever before.

He hadn't much experience with weeping women, thank God, but he knew all about misery and despair. Losing comrades in battle, he'd seen enough death and destruction to last more than a lifetime.

He picked up Bella's reticule and walked toward her. When he reached her side, he dug in his pocket for his own handkerchief. "Here, take mine."

Slowly, she pushed away from Rufus and looked up at him, her brown eyes drenched with tears. She flung herself against him, wrapping her arms around him, burrowing her head into his shoulder. "Hold me, Gilbert. Please hold me."

How could he refuse her plea? He hugged her close, kissing her hair, feeling her lithe body mold itself to his, her soft curves melding against his hard muscles. He placed one hand behind her head, caressing her neck. His heart wrenched in two when she sobbed even harder.

"Shh, everything will be all right," he said. "I promise from this day forward, you will never be subjected to such treatment again. Oh, Bella. Don't cry anymore. I can't bear to see you so unhappy."

Arabella lifted her face and smiled through her tears. "I'm not unhappy anymore, now that you're here. Gilbert, I don't know what I would have done, if you had not come."

"You would have thought of something, I'm sure. Dry your eyes, then we'll make camp and get some sleep."

She took his handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "I don't know what's come over me. I usually don't cry this way."

Gilbert hugged her one more time, before setting her away from his over-zealous, over-lustful body. "You've been through a terrible ordeal, and you're tired. It's a wonder you've held up this long."

She folded the handkerchief. "You're such a dear friend. I'm so glad you came back to England. I've missed you." She sniffed and dabbed her eyes again, before placing the handkerchief in his outstretched hand.

Their fingers brushed and Gilbert couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath as awareness sizzled between them. Bella's eyes snapped to his, holding his gaze for one electric moment, before she quickly turned away and stared up at the night sky.

"I'm so tired," she whispered to the stars above. "So very tired."

With a hand trembling with desire, Gilbert stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket and began spreading blankets on the ground. "Bella, come sit down. I've brought bread and cheese for us to eat. You must be famished; I know I am. It's not much, but it'll help stave off the worst of our hunger. Then we can both go to bed . . . I mean, to sleep."

His words conjured a vision of him in bed with Bella, holding her in his arms, kissing her, caressing her breasts, touching her . . .

He shook his head to erase the erotic images from his brain, but there wasn't much he could do to ease his painful arousal.

Bella wasn't interested in him in that way. _You're such a dear friend._ Her words stabbed him in the heart. He wanted more than her friendship, but she obviously did not. Except when their fingers had touched, he could have sworn she'd shot him a look charged with sexual awareness. He couldn't be certain; he had probably only imagined it since he was aching from wanting her so badly.

She had proposed a marriage of convenience between them. Gilbert wasn't sure how long he could maintain a platonic relationship when he would be living with her, seeing her day in and day out, smelling her sweet scent, talking and laughing with her, yet never being able to touch her, kiss her, or take her to his bed.

He loved her, but now was not the moment to declare himself. She'd suffered a nightmarish experience. She was weary with fatigue and her emotions were overwrought. Right now, he needed to be her friend, not her lover. Not yet.

"Come, Bella," he said, setting out the bread and cheese on one of the blankets. "I have water to drink. Share a little of my moonlight picnic, then you can rest."

Arabella turned from her contemplation of the stars and faced him. The hideousness of the past two days was fast dimming and fading to the background. Gilbert had rescued her. He was so handsome and dear. The future looked bright, except for the fact that she loved him with all her heart . . . and he had only agreed to marry her to save Cheney.

Not so bright, after all.

She summoned a smile. "A moonlight picnic, how delightful. You've thought of everything. You see how well we shall deal together."

"Yes, I know. Here, let me help you sit down."

Arabella looked at his strong hand. Would she feel that powerful jolt of awareness again? Would he?

Gingerly, she took hold of his hand and immediately, the tingling sensation soared through her blood stream. She dared not look him in the eye, so she promptly lowered herself to the blanket.

"Thank you," she said, quickly releasing his hand. To help recover her composure, she busied herself by adjusting the folds of her cloak into some semblance of order.

Gilbert sat down next to her. "I didn't have time to buy much, because I was in such a rush to come after you. I almost didn't think to bring any food at all."

"I'm so glad you did. I haven't eaten since breakfast and that was only a piece of toast." She bit into the crusty bread and the sharp cheddar cheese. If only she could calm her wayward body, everything would be fine.

Gilbert handed the small jug of water to Arabella. "Drink, Bella. Then we'll sleep."

After quenching her thirst, she gave the jug back to Gilbert and watched as he drank. His throat worked as he swallowed the water, and she wanted to kiss his neck, to throw herself in his arms, to feel his comforting embrace once again. She'd best go to sleep before she did something foolish and embarrassed them both.

"Good night, Gilbert." With a stifled sob, she stretched out on the blanket, lying on her side, using another blanket for cover. What in the world was wrong with her?

I'm tired. It's been a trying day. Things will be back to normal tomorrow.

"Sleep well, Bella."

Arabella closed her eyes. Gilbert moved about, putting the leftover food away, leaving for a moment to check on Rufus. She heard him murmuring to the horse and his voice was deep and soothing. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally lay down beside her.

The spring night had turned chilly. Arabella felt the wind whip through the blanket and the cloak. She adjusted her position on the hard ground and closed her eyes, willing sleep to come. Even though her body was bone-weary, her mind was wide-awake.

"Are you asleep?" Gilbert whispered.

Her heart stilled in her chest. His breath was hot against the delicate skin of her ear, sending shards of pleasure over every inch of her body. She rolled over onto her back and looked up at Gilbert. For a moment, she was in his bed again, lying beneath him on the soft mattress, being kissed like there was no tomorrow . . .

Gilbert smiled. "I hate to wake you, except I'm going to need some of the blanket."

"The blanket?" Disappointment swiftly replaced every other feeling, and she felt tears gathering in her eyes again. When had she turned into such a watering pot?

"Bella, don't cry. What's wrong?"

She sat up and sniffed back a sob. "Nothing. Here, take the blanket. I have my cloak after all."

"We could share--"

"No! I mean . . ." She couldn't help herself; once again she dissolved into tears.

Gilbert took her into his arms and held her, just as she had wished, yet it didn't change anything. She felt the warmth of his big body pressed against her own. If only he loved her.

"Bella, darling! Look at me." He held her at arms length, his hands on her shoulders, squeezing, rubbing, caressing.

Had he called her darling?

Half afraid to draw another breath, Arabella swiped away the tears and looked at him. His blue eyes glittered like jewels in the night, so full of love and hope that it filled her heart to overflowing. "Oh, Gilbert. I love you so."

His hands tightened on her shoulders, and before she knew it, she was pulled into a crushing embrace. "Thank God, Bella! Because I love you, too. I don't want a marriage of convenience. I want a real marriage. I want you to be my wife in every sense of the word."

His lips claimed hers in a fiery kiss. He tasted hot and wild, and Arabella felt herself falling into an abyss of desire the likes of which she'd never known existed or even imagined.

This was so much better than the kiss they'd shared the other night. Gilbert was kissing _her_ , not because she was an available female, but because he loved _her_ as she loved him.

With her heart near to bursting, she wrapped her arms around his strong neck and kissed him back, meeting his tongue thrust for thrust, losing herself in the pleasures of the kiss.

Gilbert couldn't believe his good fortune. _Bella loved him. She wanted more than his friendship._ Now they could be truly married, in more than name only, and he would be able to show her how much he loved her every day for the rest of their lives.

He cradled her in his arms as he took the kiss deeper, exploring her mouth and her sweetness, then kissing the corners of her lips, her cheeks, her eyes. He gently laid her down on the blanket, covering her body with his, relishing the feel of her beneath him.

Taking her mouth again in a searing kiss, he buried his hands in her silky hair, delighting in the feel of it flowing through his fingers. Gilbert trailed kisses up and down the smooth column of her throat, nibbling her ears, nuzzling the sensitive skin of her shoulder and neck.

The sexy little moans erupting from Bella, drove him mad with desire. His body burned like it had never burned before. He'd been with many women, but he hadn't loved them. With Bella, it would be different, better. So much better.

He kissed her again and smiled at her eagerness. She squirmed beneath him, lost in a fog of pleasure. A pleasure only he could give her.

"Gilbert . . . Gilbert . . ." she said, pressing her lower body against his groin.

His aching body burned with desire. "I know, my darling. I know." They were both wanting, needing more than mere kisses.

Oh God, he had to touch her . . . he couldn't stand it any longer. Easing his hand beneath the heavy fabric of her cloak, he cupped one perfect breast, caressing, kneading. He rubbed a thumb across the beaded nipple, swallowing Bella's moan with a kiss. Still, there were too many layers of cloth separating them. He wanted to see and feel bare skin.

Keeping his hand on her breast, Gilbert rose up on one elbow. "Bella?" he said softly.

Slowly, she opened her eyes . . . and smiled. Lifting a hand, she tenderly stroked his cheek. "I never knew how wonderful this could be."

Turning his head, he kissed her palm, then her lips. "And we've barely begun, my darling. I want to touch you, Bella. I want to kiss you all over." He brushed his thumb over her nipple again, delighting in the sound of her quick intake of breath.

"Oh, Gilbert," she said with a gasp. "I don't know how much more of this exquisite sensation I can stand."

He laughed. "Believe me, Bella. It only gets better. Trust me."

She placed her hand on top of his and stared into his eyes. "I trust you, Gilbert. I love you with all my heart and soul."

Gilbert pulled back for a moment to look at her. She was so beautiful and lovely. Her response to his lovemaking was everything a man could wish for. It was as if she'd been waiting for this moment for him to awaken her from a deep virginal sleep.

But this was no place to take her maidenhead. The ground was cold and hard, the wind brisk and cool. When he initiated Bella into the pleasures of passion, he wanted to be in a soft comfortable bed, with candlelight flickering in the darkness, and the whole night before them. He wanted his ring on her finger to make everything perfect.

"Kiss me again, Gilbert. Please?"

Bella's arms tightened around his neck and she pulled him down for a deep sizzling kiss. A man could only resist temptation for so long, and he gave himself up to Bella's sweet invitation. A few more kisses couldn't hurt. Then he would hold her in his arms for the rest of the night, and tomorrow they would make for London posthaste.

### CHAPTER NINE

Almost six weeks to the day, Arabella sat in the dressing room of the most luxurious suite the Clarendon Hotel of London had to offer a newly married Earl and his Countess. After dismissing her maid, she stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror as she finished brushing her hair and preparing for her wedding night. The past month and a half had been a whirlwind of activity, setting things in motion for her marriage to Gilbert.

After spending a fairy-tale night together in the woods under the stars, the rest of the ride to London had been uneventful and quite ordinary. Gilbert had pawned his diamond stick-pin and pocket-watch at a shop in a small town along the way, raising enough money to hire an antiquated coach and pair of horses to take Arabella to London, if not in style, at least in relative comfort. He continued the ride on Rufus, neither of them wishing to leave the horse in strange hands.

They arrived at Lady Wyndham's house in Half-Moon Street at three in the afternoon, and Gilbert's godmother welcomed them with hugs and kisses. Arabella had been afraid the woman would think her most improper for traveling alone with Gilbert without so much as a toothbrush.

But after hearing her tale of woe, Lady Wyndham only smiled. "Don't worry about a thing, my dear. Leave everything to me. I'll ring for tea. Gilbert, after you partake of some refreshment, you must set out immediately for the City. Consult your father's man of business; bring him up to date. He'll know exactly what to do."

Mr. Mooney had more than proven her words correct. He traveled down to Whitethorn Hall to personally supervise the removal of Aunt Mildred, Uncle Oslo and Edgar. He dismissed all the servants and established a worthy man and his wife to oversee the household, thus freeing Arabella of the worries about her home.

Mr. Mooney set the paperwork in motion to end the trust and relinquish the reins of Arabella's fortune into Gilbert's hands as soon as they were wed. A letter was sent to Uncle Henry informing him of the vile deeds perpetrated by Aunt Mildred. Everything was in trim order awaiting Uncle Henry's signature when he returned from Brazil.

Mr. Mooney and Gilbert then visited Child's Bank in Fleet Street and negotiated all future monetary arrangements for the Earl and his soon-to-be bride. A notice was published in the papers announcing their imminent marriage.

Lady Wyndham lost no time helping furnish Arabella with a new and fashionable wardrobe. One entire week was spent in a frenzy of shopping at the expensive boutiques and clothing establishments situated in Bond Street. They ordered dresses, hats, shoes, shawls, gloves, nightgowns and undergarments. Arabella laughed in protest. "Goodness! I'll never find time to wear half so many clothes."

"Certainly you will," Lady Wyndham said. "You owe it to Gilbert to dress as befitting the dignity of his Countess. There will be no more wearing of breeches for you, my dear."

Gilbert's godmother took charge of the wedding plans, just as she'd promised. "Of course, there's no need for a special license and a hurry-scurry marriage now. We shall do everything in the proper manner and post the banns like civilized people. We'll keep it small, but elegant." After a breakfast reception at Lady Wyndham's townhouse following the ceremony, the happy couple had checked into the Clarendon to spend their wedding night.

Arabella smiled as she admired the ring Gilbert had placed on her finger this morning as they stood before the altar at St. George's in Hanover Square. In between the many trips to the City to oversee the myriad details of settling his father's estate and arranging payment of the debts, Gilbert made the time to post down to Cheney to retrieve the diamond-encrusted emerald ring from the family vault.

The ring glittered in the candlelight as Arabella moved her hand this way and that. With a sigh, she held the ring to her breast, her heart filled with love and happiness.

"Bella?" Gilbert's deep voice sounded from the doorway of the boudoir, sending chills of promised pleasure up and down Arabella's spine. There hadn't been much opportunity to exchange more than a few stolen kisses since their arrival in London, but the romantic night in the woods when they'd slept in each other's arms had never been far from her thoughts. Gilbert had introduced her to the wonders of his kisses and caresses, but the night had been short, and the need to get to London most pressing.

Turning toward the doorway, Arabella suddenly felt shy and nervous dressed only in a white diaphanous nightgown with her bare toes peeking out from under the hem. Gilbert walked across the room and took her hand, kissing it before pulling her from the chair to stand before him. His colorful robe of brocaded silk with his legs clearly visible intensified the intimacy of the moment and increased her shyness a hundredfold. She blushed at the thought of sharing Gilbert's bed.

"Don't be nervous, Bella. You enjoyed our night under the stars, didn't you?" Again, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the soft skin on the inside of her wrist.

She trembled beneath his touch. "Yes . . . I . . . I enjoyed it very much." Her voice sounded breathless in her ears. Already, a delicious heat had begun seeping through her veins.

Gilbert clasped her hand to his heart, pulling her closer. He kissed her forehead, her temples, her nose. "I promise you will enjoy tonight just as much and even more."

The beat of his heart pounded in tempo to her own, and his kisses ignited a fire low in her belly. Removing her hand from his grasp, Arabella wrapped her arms around Gilbert's neck, relishing the hard muscles and the heat of his big body as he enveloped her in a crushing embrace.

"Kiss me, Gilbert. Please kiss me." She tilted her head in invitation and closed her eyes.

For a moment, Gilbert stared at Bella's beautiful upturned face. Holding her in his arms, with her body pressed against him was producing an exquisite type of torture. His body ached and pulsed from wanting her so badly. She was a virgin, and he needed to be careful; he didn't want to hurt her . . . or upset her. He needed to take it slow and easy.

But damn, he wanted to take her fast and hard. He wanted to toss her on the bed and have his way with her, to feel her naked under him, plunge himself into her heat and brand her as his. This new and overwhelming possessiveness he felt toward Bella astounded him; he'd never experienced anything like it before.

Bella's arms tightened around his neck and she opened her eyes. "What are you waiting for? Aren't you going to kiss me?"

She wiggled closer, torturing him even more.

"Sorry, I was thinking--"

" _Thinking_? About what?"

Gilbert slowly ran his hands up and down Bella's silk-clad body, smoothing the soft gauzy material over her shoulder blades, the arch of her back, and the curve of her hips. The filmy nightgown concealed very little and fired his imagination to the burning point.

"Gilbert?"

He tightened his hold on her. "I don't want to hurt you, love. I want you so badly, I'm afraid--"

She placed a finger over his lips. "You won't hurt me. I mean . . . it might hurt at first, but that can't be helped, can it?"

"I'm afraid not." Gilbert felt both shocked and relieved that Bella seemed to know the basic particulars of the marriage bed. "Who told you?" he asked.

"Can't you guess?" She smiled mischievously, looking more like the Bella of old rather than the sexy woman he was holding in his arms.

"Good God! I should have known my godmother would leave nothing to chance. She's such a stickler for details. So, she explained it to you?"

Bella nodded, her golden curls bouncing with the movement. "Knowing my mother had died when I was still young, she figured no one had told me what to expect on my wedding night."

With one small finger, she traced his lips, sending a fierce blaze of desire racing downward. He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm. "Careful, love. You're playing with fire."

Standing on tiptoe, Bella kissed him tenderly on one corner of his mouth and then the other. "Teach me how to fan the flames, Gilbert. I want you to make me your wife in more than name only."

Words every new husband should be so lucky to hear. Gilbert squeezed her hand and prayed for strength. Strength to hold back his rising passion, so he could nurture Bella's desire.

She touched his cheek. "No more thinking. I love you and trust you. Let's finish what we started on our night under the stars." Her voice was a husky whisper, and the way she stared into his eyes drove any last doubts away.

Gilbert pulled her into his embrace again and kissed her like he was a starving man, starving for Bella. He dipped his tongue into her sweet mouth, and immediately she tangled hers with his, responding deliciously to his touch.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the big bed, setting her down gently, never breaking contact with her lips. He lay on top of her, careful not to burden her too much with his weight, for no matter what she said, she was not used to passion and desire and men. And she was so small . . .

Arabella lost herself to the sensual heat flowing through her blood. She felt languid, yet keenly aware to every touch of Gilbert's lips on her body.

He rose up and supported himself on his elbow. "I'm going to undress you now. I want to see you . . . I _need_ to see you. All of you."

With fingers not quite steady, he untied the ribbons at her breasts that held her lacy nightgown together. The movement of his hands produced exquisite flashes of heat skittering along her nerve-endings. Arabella closed her eyes, savoring the new feelings consuming her.

After what seemed like forever, Gilbert peeled the diaphanous fabric away from her breasts and she could feel his big body go rigid against her.

With a deep intake of breath, Gilbert slowly exhaled. "So beautiful. So very beautiful." He cupped one breast, then the other with slow, tantalizing caresses, brushing his thumb across the nipples.

Never in her life had she felt anything so good, so wondrous. Opening her eyes, she met Gilbert's burning gaze and felt her cheeks blush.

"There's no need for embarrassment," he said softly. "You're my wife and I'm your husband. I love you so very much, _Bella_ _mia_."

Before she could tell him that she returned his love, he bent his head and took one nipple into his hot mouth and sucked. Arabella moaned with bliss as shards of ecstasy cascaded throughout her body. She arched her back, tangling her fingers in Gilbert's close-cropped hair, holding him close. A powerful yearning coiled in her stomach, so strong that she ached and throbbed deep inside.

"Gilbert . . . I want . . . I need . . ."

"I know, love. I know." He kissed his way down her stomach, licked her navel and smiled at her sudden intake of breath.

As he nuzzled his way downward, she stiffened and raised her head to stare at him. "Gilbert? What are you doing?"

"I'm loving you, Bella. Relax and let yourself feel."

She plopped back down on the bed and he kissed her navel again. "Oh, my . . ." she whispered.

Pushing away the gossamer fabric, Gilbert feasted his eyes on the golden triangle of hair and lightly brushed his hand across the sensitive mound. Bella moaned and bucked beneath his touch. "Easy, love. Stay with me now."

He bent and nudged her with his nose, taking pleasure in the sweet musky scent of woman. _His_ woman.

"Oh, Gilbert . . . _please!_ " She gripped the sheets in tight fists thrusting herself toward him.

Ever so gently, he licked the sensitized flesh, flicking it with his tongue . . . once . . . twice . . . three times, then blowing and licking it again . . . and again.

Arabella teetered on the edge of some unknown abyss, her whole core focused on the astonishing sensations Gilbert was so expertly nurturing with his mouth and tongue. And just when she thought the pleasure almost unbearable, her body shattered in orgasm, obliterating everything else from her being. Floating on a cloud of euphoria, she drifted like a feather on the wind, until the last tremors of rapture died away.

"Bella?" Gilbert whispered in her ear. "Are you all right?

She opened her eyes and smiled at her husband. "I'm . . . _wonderful_. I never dreamed it would be like that. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Gilbert kissed her nose. "But it's not over yet. I want you so much, Bella. I _need_ to make you mine."

Touching his cheek with one hand, she could feel him quivering with suppressed passion. As much pleasure as she'd just experienced, there was still an emptiness to be filled. "Make love to me, Gilbert. Make me your wife."

"I'll do my best not to hurt you, love." Gilbert had never been with a virgin and didn't know how he could keep Bella from feeling the pain. Best to get it over quickly. She was still in the afterglow of her first climax, and her body would be damp and ready for him.

He lay on top of her, careful again so he wouldn't squash her. Holding her in his arms, he nuzzled her neck, nibbling her earlobe, nudging his shaft against her moist heat, preparing to make a push against her maidenhead.

Rising up, he kept their lower bodies together and gripped her shoulders with his hands. He bent his head and kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, tasting her sweetness with almost brutal force. He was fast losing control and when Arabella wrapped her legs around him, striving to bring him closer, Gilbert plunged past the virginal barrier and impaled himself to the hilt. Bella gasped and squeezed her eyes closed, two tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Bella? Speak to me, love." God knew he didn't want to stop, yet he couldn't bear to hurt her. He tried to withdraw, but she tightened her legs around his waist.

"Don't leave me!" she said. "It's better now, I promise." She opened her eyes and smiled, lifting her lower body suggestively against him. "I'm ready now, husband."

"Dear God, Bella. I love you so." Gilbert kissed her, then braced himself on his elbows, tenderly cupping each side of her head with his hands. With his eyes locked on hers, he began moving inside her . . . in and out . . . in and out . . . slowly at first, wanting to savor this first coupling as long as possible. She felt magnificent lying beneath him, her body slick and smooth and tight.

Soon he gained momentum and plunged deep, pulling back only to plunge deeper still. The last vestiges of control finally snapped, and he forgot about being careful and gentle; desire took over all else.

"Gilbert? I . . . I . . ." Bella shuddered as another orgasm rocked her. Her muscles constricted around his shaft, and he dove ever deeper, hooking her legs in the crooks of his elbows and pushing forward, wild to find his own release.

Bella moved against him, matching thrust for thrust. She dug her nails into his shoulders, and with one final plunge, Gilbert climaxed with such force, he collapsed on top of her, not caring for the moment if he were too heavy or not. Only knowing that never in his life had anything felt so powerful, so wonderful, so right as making love to this woman who was now his wife.

### EPILOGUE

One year later . . .

Gilbert stood in the doorway of his Countess's bedchamber at Cheney Manor, watching Bella who was sitting in bed propped up by many pillows, nursing their newborn daughter. Unaware of his presence, his wife's whole attention was focused on little Sabrina. After two heart-wrenching days of hard labor, the baby finally made her appearance in the early hours of the morning, crying loudly and kicking madly. Bella had been utterly worn out after the birthing and almost immediately dropped into an exhausted slumber.

After sleeping the rest of the morning and half the afternoon away, she had awakened much rested. Under the mantle of new motherhood, Bella glowed. So happy and beautiful, she stole Gilbert's breath away. He wished he could have a likeness painted of her with the baby at her breast, capturing the tender love shining in her soft expression as she gazed upon the child. _Their child_. Conceived in love. His heart constricted in his chest, and he clenched his hands into tight fists trying to hold in the deep emotions.

"Excuse me, my lord," said the nursemaid. Molly scooted past him and into the bedchamber.

"Gilbert!" Bella smiled and extended an arm in welcome.

He walked to the bed and took her hand in a strong clasp, staring down at his daughter. He brushed a tiny cheek with his finger, marveling at how little she was. "She's very small. She is healthy, isn't she?"

"Of course, she's healthy. And she's not small at all, are you my precious?" Bella nuzzled the baby's forehead, then pulled Gilbert down for a swift kiss.

She still tasted as sweet as honey, and his body responded accordingly. He stood straight again and cleared his throat. Bella smiled at him knowingly, and he smiled back. "I must admit you look better than you did earlier this morning, my love."

"I feel so much better," she said. "It was pretty rough going for a while, yet it was worth it." She wiped the corner of the baby's mouth with a soft cloth and adjusted their positions more comfortably.

Gilbert sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle Bella or the baby. He reached out a hand and smoothed the baby's feathery hair over her tiny head. Sabrina had quit nursing and lay sleeping in her mother's arms.

"Would you like to hold her?" Bella asked in a hushed voice.

_Hold her?_ "What if I drop her? She's so little, I'm afraid I might hurt her."

Bella laughed. "Nonsense. You won't break her, I assure you."

She lifted the baby from her breast and laid her in her father's arms. "Say hello to your papa, Sabrina." Bella adjusted the blanket around the baby and sat back amongst the pillows again, tying the ribbons of her nightgown together. "Well, what do you think, my lord?"

With a sense of wonder, Gilbert touched one tiny hand with five perfectly shaped fingers. He couldn't get over how small and helpless she appeared. His heart constricted again with a fierce protectiveness and love for his baby daughter. "Words can't begin to describe the feeling," he said softly. "Can you believe we made a baby together?"

Bella touched Sabrina's head. "Oh, I can readily believe it. I carried her for nine months, don't forget. She's our little miracle."

"Our little miracle," Gilbert said, his voice rough with suppressed feelings.

"I know you'll make a wonderful papa, Gilbert."

He looked at her and shook his head. "I don't know. I don't have a very good example to follow, now do I?"

"That doesn't matter. You are nothing like your father."

Gilbert smiled. "That's a good thing."

Molly bustled up to the bed. "I'll take the baby now, my lord. Your lady needs her rest. She did have a time of it, birthing this babe in the wee morning hours."

Bella sat up. "Gilbert, let me hold her again, before Molly puts her in her cradle."

He stood, feeling helpless. "I don't know how--"

"Allow me, my lord." Molly expertly took the baby from Gilbert and handed her to Bella. "There you go, my lady."

"Thank you." Bella kissed Sabrina's forehead and cooed in her ear, kissed her one more time and then gave up the precious bundle into the waiting arms of her nursemaid. "Make sure you cover her so she won't feel a draft, Molly."

"Now don't you worry about a thing, my lady. Me mum's had eight babies, remember. With me bein' the oldest, I took care of them all. You get some sleep. This little one will be wanting her dinner before you know it. You must rest and get your strength back." Molly looked pointedly at Gilbert, making him feel he was overstaying his welcome.

When the door closed behind her, he sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Molly takes her new position seriously; quite a step up from kitchen maid to nursemaid. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a more experienced nurse for the baby?"

Bella snuggled deeper beneath the covers. "Molly _is_ experienced; she's used to babies. I'm perfectly content to have her in charge of little Sabrina. I would trust her with my life. In fact, I did just that not so very long ago. She's dedicated and very loyal."

"I can't argue with you there. If you're content, then so am I." Gilbert smoothed a strand of Bella's hair escaping from her lace cap, then caressed her cheek. "I didn't get a chance last night to thank you for giving me such a beautiful daughter. I'm sorry you had to bear so much pain, my love."

"I don't mind it in the least, now that it's over, because it was well worth it." She frowned and plucked at the quilted bedcover with her fingers. "Are you truly glad for a daughter, Gilbert? I can't help feeling I've failed you by not presenting you with an heir."

"How can I not be glad for a daughter, when I love her mother so very much? I want her to be just like you: beautiful and clever and fearless. And now you have a daughter to inherit Whitethorn Hall, just as your mother had you. There's plenty of time for us to have a son or two, and perhaps another daughter to round things out."

Bella's eyes twinkled. "It seems we'll have to redouble our efforts, if you're set on such a large family."

"I won't mind, I assure you." He flicked the end of her nose affectionately. "But only if you want more children, too."

Arabella took his hand and held it close to her heart. "Little Sabrina is the embodiment of our love for one another. You just wait, Gilbert St. John. I'll give you an heir for Cheney and he can help you restore it to its former glory. You've already made a great many improvements now that you have the means."

Gilbert tightened his hold on her hand and brought it to his lips. "I have you to thank for saving Cheney and providing the means, my love. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't climbed in my bedroom window that night."

"I don't know what I would have done, either," Bella whispered.

"It doesn't bear thinking." Bending close, Gilbert kissed her gently, lovingly.

Even though her body was sore from childbirth, a sweet warmth settled in Arabella's stomach as she returned his kiss. The night she had climbed in Gilbert's window and proposed marriage had changed both their lives for the better. They had found each other again and discovered a love so strong, so powerful, it would last a lifetime . . . and forever.

THE END

You might also enjoy more books in the Damsels in Breeches Regency Series.

###

### TEXAS TWO STEPS #1

### DARCY AND GABE

**A Short Story**

by

Anne Marie Novark

Ever since her divorce, Darcy Miller spends many a Saturday morning attending home repair workshops at the local Builders' Depot. When the sexy new instructor offers one-on-one lessons, Darcy discovers do-it-yourself is much more fun with the help of a handsome handyman.

****

### Texas Two Steps: Darcy and Gabe

Copyright © 2011 by Anne Marie Novark

****

Darcy Miller rushed to find a place to sit down, trying not to interrupt the Saturday morning demonstration already in progress at the Abilene Builder's Depot. This week, she'd signed up to learn how to fix leaky pipes. Since her divorce, it seemed like everything in the house had gone on the blitz. Short on funds and manpower, Darcy had decided to tackle the repairs herself. She'd already learned how to replace the garbage disposal, install ceiling fans, regrout tub tile, and various other household maintenance chores.

"Excuse me," Darcy said, nudging her way down the row of chairs, bumping several knees in the process. "Sorry. If I could just get to that empty chair, I'll be out of your way. Sorry. Excuse me."

With her back to the demonstration area, Darcy heard the instructor's voice over the mike explaining what he planned to accomplish this morning. A deep sexy voice filled the airwaves. Obviously a new guy. Not the dear old man who'd taught the home improvement workshops this past year or so.

Would the new instructor's face and body match his bedroom voice? She instinctively turned to look, only to find herself stumbling over someone's foot at the exact same moment.

"Ouch!" a woman said, glaring at her. "Watch your step, young lady."

"Sorry." Darcy continued down the row of chairs, extra careful not to bump anyone again.

"And I'll be needing an assistant," the sexy-as-sin voice said over the microphone. "How about you, ma'am?"

A hushed expectancy hung over the audience. Darcy quickly glanced around. No one was raising their hand or standing. They were all staring at _her_.

_Oh no. Oh no. Oh no._ Ducking her head, she tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. _Not me. Please, not me._ Standing in front of a large group of people was _so_ not her thing. Heart thumping wildly in her chest, Darcy tried to hurry to the chair in the center of the row. Too late.

The instructor addressed her again and she cringed inwardly. "You there. The lady in the yellow t-shirt. Come on, be a good sport. We're all here to learn. Don't be shy."

The audience erupted into encouraging applause. Oh yeah, Darcy thought. They were just thankful they hadn't been picked. The people in the row around her started pushing and guiding her back toward the aisle. _Good grief. She was in for it now._

Standing near the rows of chairs once again, Darcy slowly turned toward the demonstration table and her throat went dry and her lungs refused to function. Never in her twenty-seven years of life had she seen such a gorgeous specimen of masculinity. Her love-starved body reacted with alarming enthusiasm.

The new instructor smiled and nodded encouragement. "Come on. Don't be scared."

Scared? Darcy was petrified. Not only was one of her worst nightmares coming true--God how she hated public speaking, not that she'd be speaking up there, but still--she had the most awful feeling that fate had taken a hand in her otherwise dull and normal routine of life.

Trouble was, Darcy liked dull and normal.

The man waiting expectantly up front was anything but. She began to hyperventilate and her feet refused to budge.

Suddenly, he began walking toward her. _Oh no, oh no, oh no!_ She should just run to the nearest exit and drive home. That leaky pipe wasn't flooding the kitchen. Yet.

He stopped close beside her and stared down at her. His eyes were blue. Blue as a Texas bluebonnet. Her knees wobbled when he winked at her. "Now, this won't hurt a bit, ma'am. I promise." He grasped her elbow and led her to the demonstration table.

Darcy took a deep breath for courage. His woodsy after-shave wisped around her. Goodness, he smelled good. And he looked even better. He was tall with muscular shoulders, with dark hair, almost black, cut short. She kept her gaze on the strong hand encircling her wrist, trying to ignore the fact that soon she'd be standing in front of a large group of people.

When they reached the table, he let go of her arm and took her hand in his. Shaking it, he said, "I'm Gabe Conway. And you are?"

His hand was big, his touch warm and strong. _Focus, Darcy. You came here to learn to fix leaky pipes. Not to go gaga over a man._ She cleared her throat. "Darcy Miller."

His smile nearly made her knees buckle. She grabbed hold of the table edge to keep from sinking in a puddle of mush.

"Okay, Darcy Miller. Time to get to work." Gabe let go of her hand and started the demonstration.

Darcy tried to pay attention, but her mind wasn't on the lesson. Instead, her gaze lingered on the handsome man standing so close. Oblivious to the words Gabe spoke, she felt his deep baritone voice ooze over her, like warm chocolate over ice-cream. She closed her eyes and inhaled the enticing scent of after-shave again. How long had it been since she'd felt such a strong attraction to a man? An instant attraction.

Darcy's eyes popped open. _Good grief. What in the world had come over her?_ Three years had passed since her husband had walked out on her. She hadn't dated much since then. Not that she was nursing a broken heart or anything. Not now, anyway. Time heals all wounds, right?

Now, she was learning to be independent and happy on her own. Her job at the doctor's office kept her busy, as well as the upkeep and responsibilities of the house. The house with the leaky pipes. The reason she was standing in front of all these people, supposedly learning to repair the plumbing.

"Darcy, I need the monkey-wrench and plumbers' tape," Gabe said. "Over there in my tool box. Could you hand them to me, please?"

"Sure." Wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans, Darcy banished the thoughts to the back of her mind and focused on the task at hand. Before she knew it, the workshop was over and Gabe was shaking her hand again, thanking her for her help. Smiling that heart-stopping smile again. People flooded around the demonstration table, asking Gabe questions, pushing Darcy out of the way.

With a sigh, she picked up her purse. So much for going gaga over the guy. Not much chance to follow through. As though she had a clue how to do that anyway. Maybe she should sign up for a different type of class: How to Play the Dating Game after Divorce. _Right, Darcy._

She walked to the front of the store and snagged a shopping cart. Might as well pick up the stuff Gabe had said she'd need for the pipes. This afternoon, she could begin repairing the worst leak under the kitchen sink.

After finding all the plumbing supplies, Darcy circled toward the demonstration area, but everyone had left, including Gabe. Oh, well. Hopefully, she would see him next weekend for the lesson on replacing electrical outlets. He'd announced that Herman was retiring and he would be taking the older man's place as the weekend instructor. He'd seemed friendly enough, and he hadn't been wearing a wedding ring. She would just have to let nature take its course.

Waiting in the checkout line, Darcy flipped through a _Plumbing for Idiots_ book.

"I see you took my lesson to heart," said a familiar baritone voice close to her ear.

Darcy nearly dropped the book. Stuffing it back in the rack, she looked over her shoulder, and her heart revved up a notch.

Gabe smiled at her from under the brim of his black Stetson. "Thanks again for being such a good sport this morning. Looks like you have quite a leak to fix. You going to do that this afternoon?"

"I . . . yes, I was planning on it."

"Care for a little one on one instruction?"

"Only if you let me make you dinner." Had she really said that? For a moment, Darcy thought she'd been too bold. But then Gabe flashed his megawatt smile.

"Darcy Miller, you've got yourself a deal."

****

Gabe pushed back the dinner plate and wiped his mouth on the cloth napkin. After spending the afternoon under Darcy's kitchen sink, he'd worked up an appetite. Not only for food, but for Darcy herself. As he repaired her leaky pipe and faucet, Darcy had puttered around the kitchen making a dinner that had his mouth watering and stomach rumbling.

Watching her stand at the counter cutting up vegetables and then hovering over the stove cooking his dinner, Gabe had admired her cute little butt and nice feminine curves.

When he'd seen her at Builder's Depot this morning, lust had hit him full force. Something about her had put him on sexual alert. He rarely asked for help in his demonstration workshops, but he hadn't been able to resist soliciting Darcy's assistance.

Anything to get her closer; anything to touch her.

Every time she'd handed him a tool, their hands had brushed, connected. Her skin was smooth and soft, her smile almost shy. Long brown hair swung around her shoulders and her dark exotic eyes held secrets he longed to find out. Every touch had sent jolts of sexual awareness straight to his groin. He'd been hard most of the morning.

He'd decided to ask her out after the workshop, but she'd disappeared and disappointment had speared his gut. It had been quite a while since he'd felt such a strong chemistry for someone, that instant attraction that made life so interesting. He wasn't much on going out clubbing, and it was difficult meeting women these days. Even though he was surrounded by women at the high school where he taught math, he hadn't met anyone there and didn't really want to date a coworker. He'd tried Internet dating last year, but that had been a fiasco he didn't want to repeat.

Hell, after his engagement had broken off, he'd pretty much given up on women. His fiancée had really done a number on him. But that was in the past. Time to move on and join the human race again.

So when Gabe found Darcy standing in the checkout line, he'd offered to help repair her pipes. All afternoon and throughout dinner, she'd kept up a steady stream of chitchat. It was a pretty safe bet she didn't date much. One thing they definitely had in common. Another safe bet would be that Darcy was attracted to him and she was nervous about it.

He knew the signs. He hadn't completely cut himself off from feminine company during the past two years. She'd been sending signals ever since they'd stood in the checkout line together. She might be nervous, but she was definitely feeling the sexual tug. Little touches of her hand to her hair and biting and licking those lush lips. Her dark eyes widening when he caught her gaze. And her blushes. He hadn't met a woman in a long time who actually blushed.

She was pretty and nice and he wanted her. His body throbbed with repressed desire. Gabe recited the Pythagorean Theorem and Euclid's Proofs to help calm himself down. He couldn't act like a Neanderthal and scare Darcy. The way she was acting, he'd be pushing his luck to get her into bed tonight. Best to just kiss her and make plans to see each other again. Soon. Tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow would be perfect.

Gabe folded his napkin and placed it beside his plate. He shoved back his chair. He'd kiss her, then get the hell out of here. He didn't want to screw this up. Darcy was the best thing to come his way in a long time.

****

Darcy watched as Gabe rose from his chair and stood. His blue eyes lasered in on her as he made his way around the table to where she sat. He offered his hand and silently helped her to her feet.

"Thanks for dinner," he said in that sexy voice that was beginning to drive her wild. His hand held hers in a strong grip, and his thumb rubbed circles on her suddenly sensitized skin.

Darcy swallowed. She had to get hold of her wayward thoughts and emotions. She couldn't just fall into bed with this man. He was a stranger. Her body had no problem with the visuals and scenario, but her mind couldn't quite wrap itself around it all.

Bad enough she'd let him come to her house, but now he was looking at her like he wanted her for dessert. Her heart pounded in her throat and her nipples tingled in response.

"I want to kiss you, Darcy. I know we've just met, but I _need_ to kiss you." He pulled her against his big hard-muscled body, wrapped his strong arms around her and lowered his mouth to hers.

Darcy had tried to ignore his sculpted lips all afternoon, but she couldn't ignore them now. Not when they were doing wonderful things to her mouth and tugging at long-forgotten yearnings. He kissed the corners of her mouth, her nose and chin, then back to her lips. With the tip of his tongue, he traced the closed seam, demanding the right to enter.

She opened immediately, and Gabe plunged deep inside, tangling his tongue with hers. Dancing, tasting, exploring. Darcy's stomach somersaulted as hot desire poured into her veins.

She lifted her arms and draped them around his neck, burying her fingers in his black hair at the nape. His hold tightened around her and he groaned into her mouth, taking the kiss to the next level.

Gabe thought he'd never tasted anything as sweet as Darcy in all his life. His body was rock hard and tension coiled low in his gut and groin. He moved his hands down to her tight little butt and pulled her closer. He couldn't keep from grinding his erection against her, wishing they were naked and in bed.

He nearly came unglued when she plastered herself against him, bumping and wiggling that curvy little body, pressing her breasts to his chest.

He had to put a stop to this fast. Darcy wasn't the kind of woman who slept around. He'd figured that out from her nervous chatter. Besides, he wanted more than a one-night stand. He liked her. If he played his cards right, they could enjoy a casual relationship and he could have steady sex with a smart attractive woman. Nothing serious. Just casual. Steady sex would be nice for a change.

With great reluctance, Gabe ended the kiss. "I have to leave."

"Leave?" Darcy looked at him with passion-glazed eyes. She licked her lips as if savoring the taste of their kiss.

Gabe couldn't resist swooping in for another, then set her away from him. "As much as I enjoyed today, and the kiss, we have to call a halt or we'll end up in bed, and I really don't think you want to do that." Not yet anyway, he added for good measure.

Darcy stepped back and ran her trembling fingers through her tumbled hair. She blushed adorably and tried to smile. "You're right. I don't usually. . ." She stuck out her hand. "Thank you for fixing my pipes. It was nice meeting you."

Gabe laughed and took her in his arms again. "Oh no, sweetheart. Just because I'm trying to be a gentleman here, doesn't mean I don't want to make love to you. I want to see you again. How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow would be great."

He searched her face, memorizing every detail. The dark eyes, the short turned-up nose, high cheekbones and lush lips. He hugged her tight. "How would you like to go horse-back riding?"

"I'd like it. But I have to warn you, I haven't ridden in a while. Do you have horses?"

Gabe shook his head. "No, but I have some friends who own a ranch about an hour or so away. We could ride tomorrow afternoon, then come back to town for dinner. What do you say?"

Darcy smiled a beautiful smile. "I'd say that sounds like a plan."

Gabe stole a quick kiss. "Good. I'll pick you up around noon."

****

Darcy buckled her seatbelt in the passenger seat of Gabe's late model Ford pickup truck and settled in for a leisurely Sunday afternoon drive. The highway stretched for miles, seemingly all the way to the horizon, and soon Abilene was far behind.

Gabe turned his head and smiled at her making her tummy crater. "Mind if I play some music?"

She shook her head. "No, go right ahead."

He chose a classic country and western ballad, and the soft melody filled the cab of the truck. "I'm glad you came with me. I get tired of spending my weekends alone. Grading papers and watching television gets old real fast."

Darcy licked her suddenly dry lips. His words were innocent enough, but his low sexy voice glided over her with a promise of heat and passion.

"I'm glad you asked me." She'd spent a restless night after he'd left her house yesterday evening. The kiss they'd shared and the emotions he'd evoked had kept her tossing and turning into the early morning hours.

Her body had been stretched as taut as a barbed wire fence with repressed sexual tension. It was stretching unbearably taut again from the nearness of the man behind the steering wheel. The chemistry between them was electric. Darcy had never experienced anything like it before.

When Gabe had ended the kiss last night, she'd almost cried in frustration. She knew if he'd pressed the issue, she would have jumped into bed with him, damn the consequences. But afterwards, she was thankful he'd called a halt. She couldn't sleep with a stranger on the first date, now could she?

Luckily, Gabe wasn't a stranger any longer. Okay, that was a mere technicality, but she knew in her heart they'd end up in bed tonight. The attraction was too strong.

The drive to the ranch flew by. She and Gabe talked about everything under the sun. And nothing at all.

It didn't seem very long before they were turning onto a dirt road and driving under a wrought-iron sign that said _The Diamondback Ranch_. Darcy had heard of The Diamondback, of course. It was a good-sized spread by Texas standards--sixty-four hundred acres of prime ranch and farmland.

Gabe introduced his friends and Darcy found herself in the midst of the McCade family. They took Darcy to their collective hearts and she fell in love with Ruth, who turned out to be the quintessential mother.

They rode horses for a couple of hours on trails winding through the rugged West Texas landscape. Mesquite and prickly pear cactus stood out green against the red soil of the land.

When they finished riding, Ruth insisted on feeding them an early dinner. They enjoyed generous helpings of delicious fried chicken, gravy and homemade biscuits; and for dessert, Ruth served her famous Texas Hot Cocoa cake.

"I don't think I'll ever eat again!" Darcy said, as she and Gabe headed back to Abilene.

"I guess I should have warned you about Ruth. She does love to cook and feed her family and friends."

"She's a sweetheart. Thank you so much for inviting me."

Gabe reached for her hand and held it in his on the seat between them. "It was my pleasure."

His touch sent chills and thrills through Darcy's system. She'd enjoyed their visit to the ranch and watching Gabe's interaction with Dallas and Austin McCade. The two brothers had treated him as one of their own.

The more she got to know Gabe, the more Darcy liked. And wanted. Anticipation made her toes curl.

If holding hands was such a turn on, what would it be like when they were in bed together? Darcy's blood heated at the thought.

****

Gabe thought the drive back to Abilene would never end. His body was throbbing with a desire so strong, he hoped like hell he wouldn't embarrass himself when he finally got Darcy into bed. He felt like a horny teenager, not a respectable thirty-three year old math teacher. They were holding hands like teenagers, too. Funny how that simple connection could feed the burning passion in his groin that was growing ridiculously out of control.

Damn, he hadn't been this hot for a woman in a long time.

"Are you hungry?" Darcy asked. "You said we'd go out to dinner, but Ruth fed us so well, I don't really feel like food. Do you?" Her soft voice filled the dark cab of the truck with visions of tangled sheets and sweaty bodies.

Gabe slowly withdrew his hand from hers and gripped the steering wheel. Tight. "No, I'm not hungry for food either. Let's skip dinner tonight."

"Oh, but I didn't mean our . . . date has to end."

Gabe chuckled. "I'm not ready to say goodbye, either. I'll take you home and we can watch a movie or something." Gabe pretty well knew what that something would be.

Darcy sighed. "That sounds lovely. I'd like that."

He hoped she'd like it. _He_ was certainly banking on liking it. "Then it's settled. Movie night at your house. But I can't stay too late. I have school tomorrow. Five o'clock comes awfully early."

"Tell me about it."

The lights of Abilene could be seen in the distance. By the time Gabe pulled into Darcy's driveway, he was reciting geometric postulates . . . backwards, in an effort to curb his impatience to get her naked and into bed.

Once they entered the front door, Gabe's patience fizzled out. He took Darcy's purse and keys and set them on a table, then gathered her into his arms. He held her for a moment, searching her dark eyes. "I've been dying to kiss you all day. Tell me you don't really want to watch a movie."

Darcy shook her head, her long hair swinging with the movement. She twined her arms around his neck. "All I want is you."

She tugged his head down and kissed him. His stomach bottomed out when Darcy plunged her sweet little tongue in his mouth, making sweeping forays in and out, nipping his lower lip, sucking his tongue. All the time, playing with the hair at his nape.

Holy shit! He was going to have a very hard time of it. Hard being the operative word here. He was going to explode before they even got into bed.

He lifted her in his arms, holding her close. "Put your legs around me."

Never breaking contact with his mouth, Darcy wrapped her legs around his waist. She deepened the kiss, holding his jaws in her hands, rubbing his chin with her thumbs.

Gabe settled her against his length, torturing himself with the pressure of her body against the fly of his jeans. Oh yeah. He was going to lose it for sure if he didn't get them into bed. Pronto.

He carried Darcy through the living room, down the hall and into her bedroom. Yesterday, he'd scouted out the place when he'd been here fixing her plumbing. Even then, he'd been planning her seduction. When he'd first seen her at his demonstration workshop, lust had hit him full force. And it had only grown stronger as he became better acquainted with her last night and today. He like her. He liked her a lot.

Darcy came up for air when she realized they were in her bedroom and Gabe was getting ready to set her on the bed. Her body was on fire, but she wanted this first time to be perfect. She felt dirty and smelly. It would be too embarrassing.

She slid her legs down the length of Gabe's body and immediately, he let her go. But he still kept his hands on her shoulders, a question lingering in the depths of his heavy-lidded eyes. "Darcy?"

Again she wished there was a workshop on Dating after Divorce. How to get through the awkward moments.

She put her hands on his strong chest. "I can't do this--"

Gabe dropped his hands from her shoulders and stepped back. "I'm sorry. I've been too-- uh . . ."

Darcy smiled. "No, you haven't. I mean I don't want to do this smelling like horses. I need a shower." She hesitated. She really liked Gabe. She was ready to take this to the next level. What did it matter if their first time was in bed? _In for a penny, in for a pound_ , as they said in the Regency romances she loved to read. "Care to join me?" she asked.

Gabe smiled back. "Oh yeah. A shower sounds good." He bent to nibble her earlobe. "A shower could be really fun."

Tingles of awareness shimmied down Darcy's spine. She led the way to the bathroom and waited for Gabe to follow. Drawing back the shower curtain, she turned on the faucets and adjusted the water to a nice comfortable temperature.

Taking a deep breath, Darcy faced Gabe. "I know I've been married and stuff, but I haven't really done . . . this, since my divorce." She looked at the shower, then back to the gorgeous man she'd only met yesterday. "Especially _this_." She pointed between them with a wave of her hand.

Gabe grabbed her hand and held it in a tight grasp. "It's been a while for me, too. We'll take it one step at a time." He pulled her to him and kissed her. Tenderly at first, but the passion flared fast and the kiss turned hot and sizzling.

Darcy tugged the tails of Gabe's western-shirt out of his Wranglers and began unbuttoning the snaps. She felt his fingers doing the same to her long-sleeved blouse. Every brush of his hands on her skin sent electric currents zinging through her, making her almost frantic with hunger and need.

Gabe sat on the bench at the vanity and pulled off his boots and socks. He stood before Darcy, unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He shucked them off along with his boxers in one smooth movement.

Darcy nearly fainted at the sight of him. He was so beautiful and masculine. She toed off her shoes and quickly slipped her jeans and panties down her legs.

Gabe pulled back the shower curtain and climbed in the stall. He held out a hand to Darcy. "Come on in, before the water gets cold."

She put her hand in his and he helped her step over the tub and into the shower. Immediately, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her with a ruthless passion that left her breathless and wanting more.

His hands slid over her, gliding down her neck, collarbone and chest until finally he cupped her aching breasts. Darcy moaned into his mouth. It had been so long since anyone had touched her so intimately.

Gabe caressed the beautiful breasts with both hands, rubbing the rosy nipples with his thumbs, swirling the cascading water from the shower around and around. He couldn't stand it and bent to take one in his mouth. Darcy's knees buckled and she began to fall, but he caught her by the waist and continued suckling. She ran her fingers through his wet hair, massaging his scalp.

Straightening to his full height, Gabe pushed Darcy against the tiled wall and kissed her again. When she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, he nearly lost it then and there.

He grabbed her hand to make her stop. Words strangled in his throat. "As good as that feels, you have to quit or we won't make it to the bed."

Darcy smiled a sultry smile. "Would that be so bad?"

Dear God in heaven. No. But he wanted to feel her beneath him on a soft mattress as he plunged into her heat.

"I'll take a rain check on that. Hand me the soap and let's make this quick. I want to towel you off and get you in bed."

Gabe lathered them both, enjoying touching every inch of Darcy's slim body, anticipating the moment when he could explore more thoroughly in bed. Each took a turn standing under the spray of water until they were well rinsed. He snatched a towel from the hook near the tub and dried off, then helped Darcy out and carefully dried her off, too.

He stooped to retrieve his jeans and dug a hand in one of the pockets.

"What are you doing?" Darcy asked.

He pulled out a couple of condoms and held them up. "Protection."

She smiled. "We should have plenty then, because I bought a box this morning and put it in the nightstand drawer."

"A whole box?"

Her eyes twinkled. "I have high expectations?"

"Then I'll do my best to live up to them and not let you down." Gabe swooped her up and carried her into the bedroom. She laughed and draped her arms around his neck, nestling her head against his shoulder.

Stopping at the side of the bed, he set Darcy on the edge of the mattress. He gently pushed her flat on her back and covered her with his body, relishing the feel of skin on skin. He kissed her hard on the mouth, and she eagerly responded, her clever hands rubbing all over him, her curvy body wiggling enticingly beneath him.

He leaned on his forearms and looked down at her. She gazed back with warm trusting eyes. He swiped an errant curl away from her cheek. "I want this to be good for you, Darcy. But I'm afraid I might be a little over eager. I don't know how long I can last."

Darcy touched her hand to his jaw. "Don't worry. It's already good for me."

When she smiled, Gabe felt himself grow harder. He kissed her again, taking her tongue and sucking, nudging his shaft against her in rhythm, testing, teasing. He moved down her body, licking and gently nipping the soft skin with his lips.

He paid homage to her breasts, laving around the beaded nipples then away, over the swell of one breast, dipping in the valley between, then kissing the swell of the other. Never actually touching the nipples, but instead taunting them with a promise, a hint of what was to come.

Darcy moaned and clutched Gabe's hair to hold him close. He was driving her wild with desire and if he didn't take one of her nipples in his hot wet mouth right now, she was surely going to die. "Please, Gabe. Please . . ."

"Please what?" He flicked his tongue over one of the turgid peaks and blew softly.

Darcy's body jerked in response and she bit her lips to keep from crying out.

"Don't hold back, sweetheart. Give me all that you've got."

He bent over her and licked one nipple then the other. Darcy thrashed her head back and forth on the mattress, arching her body, lifting herself, seeking the relief only Gabe could provide.

He pressed the flat of his tongue to the bottom curve of one breast and slowly moved upwards, stopping a scant millimeter from the areola, huffing his hot breath over her skin, then continuing relentlessly up and over the nipple, lingering and making circular motions, before catching it in his mouth and sucking, gently at first, then harder and harder still.

Darcy felt the tug clear down to her womb, and fierce yearning rose up inside. She held on to Gabe's head, cradling it to her breast as he suckled and licked, ministering to one then the other. He raised his head and smiled a sexy smile, then moved down her torso, dipping his tongue in her belly button, caressing her thighs with his fingertips.

He kissed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and spread her legs wide. Darcy gripped the sheets with hands bunched into fists. She didn't know how much more pleasure she could endure, but no way did she want Gabe to stop what he was doing.

Her body was taut with exquisite tension, her breasts still tingling with desire. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the bliss of the moment.

"Are you with me, sweetheart?" His deep sexy voice sounded hushed in the dim confines of the bedroom.

"Yes, I'm with you," she said dreamily.

He chuckled and kissed her thigh again. With gentle tenderness, Gabe pressed his lips to her sensitized flesh, kissing her mound and slipping a finger inside her heat. Then he hovered over her with his mouth, so close she could feel his hot breath whispering across her skin.

Darcy waited excitedly for Gabe to keep going. She was hanging on by a thread, so close to climaxing her body ached with it. She tried to lift her lower body upward, seeking his touch. The touch that would send her over the edge, but Gabe held her in place with strong hands, keeping her immobile.

He trailed warm kisses along a path across her inner thighs, to the sensitive skin behind her knees, then returning to between her legs. Teasing. Taunting. A torture so sweet, she could feel the passion building to an almost unbearable degree.

Finally, when she thought she could stand it no longer, Darcy felt the feather-light flicks of wet warmth on her nub. At the same moment, Gabe moved his finger inside her, massaging, caressing, finding a rhythm he matched with the motions of his tongue on her hypersensitive flesh.

Her body rocked of its own accord, moving in cadence with Gabe's sure strokes. The tension mounted and passion scorched every nerve ending. And when he sucked and blew and sucked again, Darcy exploded in orgasm. Shards of pleasure burst in her brain, raining down on her as every ounce of pent-up sexual tension gave way to complete release.

Gabe knew the minute Darcy climaxed. Her inner muscles contracted around his finger and his body flexed in response. He had to have her. Now.

Snatching up one of the condoms, he quickly covered himself and took Darcy in his arms. She looked at him with dreamy eyes.

"I need you inside me, Gabe. Please!" She pulled him down and kissed him, lifting her body, bumping against his engorged shaft.

Gabe clenched his jaw at the excruciating torture. He knew he wouldn't last a minute once he plunged into her waiting heat.

With his knee, he nudged her legs apart and positioned himself above her. Their gazes locked and Gabe pushed against the entrance of her womanhood, testing, seeking.

Darcy touched his chest, raking her fingers over his flat nipples. He hardened even more, his body throbbing with need. Gabe thrust inside her liquid heat, burying himself to the hilt. Pulling out, not all the way, only to plunge in even deeper.

Darcy wrapped her legs around him to gain better traction, meeting thrust for thrust. They soon discovered their own perfect rhythm, the tempo of the dance only the two of them could share.

"I can't hold out much longer, sweetheart."

"Let it go, Gabe. Let it go." Darcy pulled him in deeper with her legs and ground her lower body into his.

Sweat beaded on Gabe's forehead and he flung his head back as the force of his orgasm slammed into him. He pumped in and out one last time as the throbbing pulsed through his body, threatening to rob him of his last breath.

He collapsed on top of Darcy, resting his head next to hers on the pillows. Breathing hard, he waited for his heart rate to slow down to normal.

Darcy turned her head to look at the man who'd tilted her world. Never had she experienced such a powerful climax. She kissed his cheek. He opened his eyes and winked.

"You know," she said, rubbing his shoulder. "I never really thanked you properly for fixing my pipes yesterday."

"Oh yes, you did. Just now. This is thanks enough, and I appreciate it mightily," he said with a smile.

"You know," Darcy continued, trailing her fingers down his ear and jaw, "I have an ice-maker on the blitz. Now, where do you suppose I could find someone to repair it?"

Gabe rose up and supported himself on his elbows. He kissed her nose and grinned. "Look no farther, sweetheart. You have found your very own handyman."

THE END

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THE MEN OF THE DIAMONDBACK RANCH

by Anne Marie Novark

The McCades. Four brothers whose love for the land is engrained in their souls. Four rugged Texans who live and breathe for the women in their lives. Four heroes who will steal your heart.

Cameron McCade

Book One: The Doctor Wears A Stetson

Jessie Kincaid was fifteen and innocent when Cameron asked her to the prom. She lost her heart that night, but his plans didn't change. He left their small town to pursue his dreams.

Seventeen years later, a trip home leads Cameron McCade back to Salt Fork, Texas, and the newly widowed Jessie Devine. Since his return, the fire between them burns as hot as ever. Can they take up where they left off? Can Jessie risk her heart again?

Dallas McCade

Book Two: The Cowboy's Surrender

Copper River Oil Company is drilling for oil on the Diamondback Ranch. Dallas McCade can't do a thing to stop them, because he doesn't own the mineral rights. To add insult to injury, they've sent a woman to oversee the operation. Dallas has good reason to distrust women. As soon as he sets eyes on Gillian Bankston, he loses his temper . . . and his control. That makes him spitting mad and frustrated as hell.

Gillian has never met a man quite like Dallas. He's rough around the edges, but his kisses are hot enough to ignite a West Texas wildfire. Gillian's been burned before and wants nothing to do with love . . . or lust. Battle lines are drawn and it's war between the sexes. Will they surrender to the powerful attraction neither can deny? Who will be the first to wave the white flag?

Austin McCade

Book Three: A Match Made In Texas

When Austin McCade's wife dies, a vital part of him dies, too. The sexy single dad devotes himself to his motherless daughter and his work on the Diamondback Ranch. For twelve years, he ignores life and women . . . until a new pretty schoolteacher moves to town.

From the moment Theresa Rogers arrives in Salt Fork, Texas, people warn her about the lonely widower. He's a hopeless case, a lost cause. But Theresa sees beneath the crusty exterior of the man to the deep emotions and his enduring loyalty. Can she pierce the impenetrable wall surrounding his broken heart? Will she be able to vanquish the ghost who keeps him from loving again?

Tyler McCade

Book Four: Lone Star Heartbreaker

Tyler McCade is the youngest McCade brother in Salt Fork, Texas, and the biggest heartbreaker of them all. Or he was--until a plane crash wrecks his body and sends his crop-dusting company into a tailspin. Needing time to heal and form a new business plan, he retreats to the Diamondback Ranch, where he spends too much time alone and tormented over the possibility that the accident might have been his fault.

Caitlyn Ross lives to fly planes. Accepting the job as pilot for Lone Star Wings seems like a dream come true. But when she packs up everything she owns and finds herself working for the brooding Tyler McCade, her defenses go on high alert. The sexual tension sizzles, but does she have what it takes to help him heal? And is she even brave enough to try?

And their sister:

Tori McCade

Book Five: The Cowgirl's Secret

An Independent Young Woman

Tori McCade is bound and determined to earn her degree and return home to practice veterinary medicine in Salt Fork, Texas. Nothing and no one can stop her, not even the hottest man she's ever met in her life.

A man who knows what he wants

Sam Garza meets the much younger Tori McCade in a dance club in Dallas, Texas, and all bets are off. He wants her, and he's going to have her . . . even if it means following her to Salt Fork. Both agree they need to keep things simple and uncomplicated. And he's okay with that . . . for now.

And the next generation:

Kelsey McCade

Book Six: His Hometown Cowgirl

When fate deals a cruel blow to Kelsey McCade, she returns home to the Diamondback Ranch to rebuild her life and heal her shattered heart. Unforeseen circumstances keep throwing her into the company of Pete Lafferty, the object of her teenaged fantasies. Against her will, Kelsey finds herself drawn to Pete--to the boy from her memories who kept her safe, and now to the strong and honorable man he's become.

Pete Lafferty has known a lot of women, but he's never fallen in love. When Kelsey McCade finally returns home, vulnerable but not broken, he quickly realizes she's a threat to his carefree existence. He's always had a soft spot for Kelsey, and seeing her grown up and beautiful stirs up emotions he's not sure he's ready to explore. He's never done a long-term relationship, and she deserves nothing less. He knows he's not the right man for her, but how can he convince his heart?

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CHECK OUT THE DIAMONDBACK RANCH SWEETER SERIES

Same stories, only sweeter.

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Return to Stone Creek Series

Book One: Her Reluctant Rancher

by Anne Marie Novark

Living with his stern grandfather taught Trevor Callahan one important lesson: Caring makes a man weak. Now the old man is dead and Trev returns to Stone Creek for one reason and one reason only--to sell the Rocking C Ranch. Maybe then he can put his past behind him and move on.

Beth Evans once confused lust for love and vows never to let it happen again. The bookmobile driver is trying to raise funds to build a new library. The late Hank Callahan bequeathed a million dollars for the project, but he attached one stipulation: Do not let his grandson sell the ranch.

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Return to Stone Creek Series

Book Two: Tall Dark and Texan

by Anne Marie Novark

Former bad boy Mitch Defalco roars into Stone Creek, Texas, on the back of a Harley with his newly discovered daughter riding behind him. Single mom Sarah Cooper cannot believe he's moved in next door. She had a secret crush on him years ago when he dated her older sister back in high school.

As Mitch tackles the responsibilities of fatherhood, Sarah admires the way he's turned his life around. She asks him to help her with a personal problem: Her fear of men. Mitch knows he's bad news for sexy Sarah, but how can he refuse her dangerous request, when she's determined to move forward with or without his help?

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Return to Stone Creek Series

Book Three: One Handsome Cowboy

by Anne Marie Novark

Leslie Taylor moves to Stone Creek so she and her son can start a new life. Her job at the Dusty Boots Ranch is perfect except for one six-foot tall, drop-dead gorgeous problem: Marco Defalco. Her boss is way too sexy for Leslie's peace of mind.

Saddled with enough family responsibilities to last a lifetime, Marco Defalco doesn't ever want to get married. But when he meets Leslie Taylor, the sexual attraction is too strong to ignore, and Marco has the sinking suspicion his bachelor days are numbered.

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In the mood for an uber alpha male in the making?

Josh and Hannah

Redwood Falls

by Lynda Chance

Josh Turner wants Hannah more than life itself. She's perfect and new . . . but she's a McIntyre. She's from the richest family in the county, and he's a Turner, from the wrong side of the proverbial tracks. And to make matters worse, there's no love lost between their families.

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How about a Sweet and Clean Historical Western Romance Short Story?

 The Rancher's Orphan Bride

 by Anna St. James

Rachel Hendricks moves to Cactus Gap, Texas, to reclaim her young brothers whom she sent out West on the Orphan Train after their parents died. She plans to reunite her family and make a home for them so they can start a new life together.

Reese Cooper takes the Hendricks boys under his temporary guardianship and provides room and board in exchange for good honest work. Even though he still mourns the death of his wife, the two boys inch their way into his battered heart. When their sister comes to claim them, Reese discovers the healing power of love.

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Midnight My Love

A Traditional Regency Romance Novel

by Anne Marie Novark

For years, Damien Avenall loved Alexandra Turlington like a little sister; or so he thought until she grew into a lovely and desirable young lady. In a moment of madness, he kisses her and everything changes between them.

_Alex often wonders why the dangerous viscount betrayed their special friendship. His kiss awakened her to passion, but she knows better than to give her heart to a libertine. Or does she?_

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HAPPY READING!!!

