Книга - Hometown Wedding

Hometown Wedding
Elizabeth Lane


YOU CAN'T GO HOME AGAIN…Which was fine with Eden–formerly Edna Rae–Harper, since after a humiliating incident involving high school heartthrob Travis Conroy, home was the last place she wanted to be. But her mother needed her, so here she was. And there was Travis Conroy–still as appealing as ever and still out of her league.Travis wasn't ever expecting to see mousy Edna Rae Harper again–and in a way he was right, since Eden, the shapely blond sophisticate before him, bore little resemblance to the dateless, bookish girl he remembered. He wanted her, pure and simple. But could he convince Monroe's most wayward daughter to come home…to him?









Table of Contents


Cover Page (#u51ab94c7-9ceb-562c-ab59-04a455c81b1d)

Excerpt (#u9c175aa8-4822-5d2f-a38b-014d555d63e9)

Dear Reader (#u6da40c7c-b12d-55b8-a228-7585393f3ae8)

Title Page (#u1abc13df-04f3-52bb-99e8-30d9883b0311)

Dedication (#u017c6777-1320-559f-b125-fc3d1b4e4f99)

About the Author (#ua3e28de4-09cd-5116-977e-b0a7df6adecc)

Chapter One (#uda038282-8d5c-57ff-8483-833fc8aeb5f9)

Chapter Two (#u9d280c21-6fa3-5885-a938-dd69e3492119)

Chapter Three (#u233579b3-8b9b-569f-b1a8-935835d9ea39)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




“Haven’t you ever wondered what might have happened if you’d come back home years ago?” Travis asked.


“No. No, absolutely not.” Eden shook her head vigorously. “I know what would have happened here—nothing! My life in Manhattan is no party, but at least it got me away from Edna Rae. She never bothers me there. It’s only when I’m in Utah that she comes back to haunt me.”

“That’s funny,” Travis said with the quirk of an eyebrow. “I don’t see her anywhere.”



“Then look harder, Travis. Edna Rae is right in front of you. Shy and awkward and scared to death.”



“Scared? Of me?” Travis grabbed Eden’s hand. “Look at me, Eden. The last time we were together, I kissed you. And you kissed me back. I don’t know what was going through your head at the time, but judging from your reaction, it sure as blazes wasn’t fear!”


Dear Reader,



What better way for Silhouette Romance to celebrate the holiday season than to celebrate the meaning of family….



You’ll love the way a confirmed bachelor becomes a FABULOUS FATHER just in time for the holidays in Susan Meier’s Merry Christmas, Daddy. And in Mistletoe Bride, Linda Varner’s HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS miniseries merrily continues. The ugly duckling who becomes a beautiful swan will touch your heart in Hometown Wedding by Elizabeth Lane. Doreen Roberts’s A Mom for Christmas tells the tale of a little girl’s holiday wish, and in Patti Standard’s Family of the Year, one man, one woman and a bunch of adorable kids form an unexpected family. And finally, Christmas in July by Leanna Wilson is what a sexy cowboy offers the struggling single mom he wants for his own.

Silhouette Romance novels make the perfect stocking stuffers—or special treats just for yourself. So enjoy all six irresistible books, and most of all, have a very happy holiday season and a very happy New Year! Melissa Senate



Melissa Senate



Senior Editor



Silhouette Romance

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3




Hometown Wedding

Elizabeth Lane







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For My Parents



Author’s Note

This story is set in the town where I grew up, and many of the locations are real. The story and characters, however, are entirely fictional. No resemblance to actual persons or events is intended.




ELIZABETH LANE


has traveled extensively in Latin America, Europe and China, and enjoys bringing these exotic locales to life on the printed page, but she also finds her home state of Utah and other areas of the American West to be fascinating sources for romance, historical and contemporary. Elizabeth loves such diverse activities as hiking and playing the piano, not to mention her latest hobby—belly dancing.




Chapter One (#ulink_99f28aab-7ea9-529e-8c41-461bc93ca249)


He was standing next to the water fountain, one bluejeaned hip cocked outward as his dark-eyed gaze swept the bustling Salt Lake City air terminal. One hand dangled a dusty Stetson. The other clutched a dog-eared paperback. His long fingers toyed with the book, crushing it, curling it, ruffling its edges in restless impatience.

Eden Harper saw him before he saw her. She had come barreling out of the jetway, intent on making a swift dash across the concourse to the ladies’ room, but the sight of him stopped her like a collision with a brick wall.

Travis Conroy.

And he was directly in her path.

Clutching her heavy briefcase, Eden hesitated. She could feel her veneer of Manhattan-bred confidence wilting like a plucked begonia in the midsummer sun. Even after sixteen years, the prospect of bumping into him was enough to make her want to crawl back onto the plane and fly wherever it would take her.

She might have been tempted to do just that. Except that for the moment, her feet seemed to be stuck in cement.

She stood gaping like a schoolgirl, her eyes taking in the lanky grace of his six-foot-two-inch height, the crisp, coffee brown curls, the face she had once giddily compared to a sculpted Rodin bronze.

He was older than she remembered—leaner and sharper, the creases sun-bronzed into permanence at the corners of his eyes. But aside from that he looked the same as he had in high school; and as the old humiliation burned through the locked doors of her memory, Eden realized that time had done nothing to heal its caustic sting.

Why Travis Conroy of all people? Why here? Why now?

Even after all these years, he was the last person she ever wanted to see again.

Gathering her wits, Eden turned to slip off in another direction. But no, it was too late. He had spotted her. His eyes flickered in recognition. The hand holding the paperback dropped to his side as the old awkwardness crept over them both.

There was no way out.

Forcing herself to take the offensive, she strode toward him. “Hello!” she exclaimed with a brazen grin. “This is quite a surprise!”

“Yes, it is.” His smile was forced, revealing only a flicker of the dimples that had sent girls into rapturous twitters. “Edna, isn’t it? Edna Rae Harper?”

As if he could forget.

“It’s Eden,” she said, trying not to squirm as his eyes took in her beige linen pantsuit and her smartly coiffed pageboy, which had grown considerably blonder with the years. “I, uh, had my name legally changed after I left Monroe.”

“Eden.” He chewed the name experimentally, like someone tasting sushi for the first time. “I don’t recall seeing you down there in quite a while.” His voice was a stranger’s, cool and formal. But then, what else could she expect? Sixteen years ago, her little faux pas had been the scandal of South Sevier High School, and Travis Conroy had been its innocent victim. He was probably reliving it right now and grinding his teeth.

“I don’t make it home very often,” she said, shifting her emotions into neutral. “New York’s a long way, even to fly. But my mother’s having surgery in a couple of days. I wanted to be with her and to stick around the house until she’s on her feet.”

“That shouldn’t take long. Your mother’s a tough lady.” He had turned and begun to walk at an ambling pace up the concourse. Feeling awkward and uncertain, Eden moved along beside him. The awful possibility flashed through her mind that somehow he’d been sent here to pick her up—a harebrained idea if ever there was one. The last thing she needed was three hours alone in a vehicle with a man whose presence was a scathing reminder of the worst day of her life.

Whatever he was doing here, she would ride the bus as she’d originally planned. For that matter, she would hike the full 180 miles in her high-heeled sling pumps before she would-”So, how are you getting home?” he asked cautiously.

One glance at his face confirmed Eden’s suspicion that he’d only inquired out of politeness. “The bus,” she said. “It’s all arranged.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m quite serious. Mom isn’t up to driving this far to meet my plane, and I can’t rent a car because there’s no place down there to return it. I’ll be taking a cab to the bus depot, and from there—”

“Look,” he cut in, his brown eyes crackling with impatience. “The bus doesn’t even leave Salt Lake till seven or eight, and it stops at every two-bit town on the road. You won’t get home till after midnight. Why don’t you—”

“As I said, it’s all arranged.” Eden turned away with a smile of breezy dismissal and veered for a second set of rest rooms that lay just across the concourse. “Bye,” she said, flinging him a last backward glance. “Nice seeing you again.”

Bravado still intact, she swung through the rest-room door and collapsed against the wall. Her heart drummed a wild tattoo against her ribs as the fiery blush she’d always hated crept into her cheeks.

This was ridiculous, Eden lectured herself. She was almost thirty years old, and she’d spent the past eight years surviving the jungle world of New York publishing. To be thrown out of kilter by the memory of a silly high-school crush…

But why work herself into a froth? Travis Conroy’s reasons for being at the airport obviously had nothing to do with her. All she needed to do was make herself scarce for the next few minutes. By the time she reappeared on the concourse, he was bound to be gone.

The long flight had given her a headache. Fumbling in her purse for aspirin, she dumped two tablets into her hand and washed them down with a swallow of tap water. Her reflection flashed in the mirror as she stepped away from the sink, triggering a brief pause to study what Travis Conroy. had seen.

The fluorescent tubes glared down on light hazel eyes, artfully lined and shadowed, framed by a square-jawed face and crowned by a sleek, golden cap of chin-length hair. Eden had done everything possible to change her image since high school, but somehow it wasn’t enough. She had never quite broken clear of dateless, bookish Edna Rae Harper, whose romantic fantasies had colored the drabness of her life. She’d seen proof of that today when the object of those fantasies had recognized her on sight.

She leaned closer, drawn by a tiny dark mascara smudge at the corner of her left eye. Only after she’d dabbed it away with a moistened fingertip did Eden notice something else reflected in the glass—the line of urinals on the opposite wall.

For the space of a heartbeat she stood frozen, unable to believe what she’d done. Then a flush echoed from inside one of the stalls. The sound catapulted Eden into a panic. Snatching up her briefcase, she bolted out of the men’s room like a spooked jackrabbit, high heels skittering on the polished tile.

Travis Conroy was standing exactly where she had left him. He didn’t say a word—but then, he didn’t have to. The subtly condescending quirk of one black eyebrow told her exactly what he was thinking.

She plumbed her wits for a clever comment that would put him in his place. Coming up with nothing, she shot him a look of sheer malevolence, executed an abrupt left face and stalked indignantly into the women’s rest room.

Slamming into a stall, she pressed quivering hands to her hot face. Now she knew why she didn’t come home more often. All she had to do was get off the plane! All she had to do was breathe the thin mountain air, and she turned into Edna Rae again—bashful, clumsy, humiliating herself at every turn!

By the time she’d finished in the stall and washed her hands, Eden had calmed down some. She had no business behaving like an adolescent, she chastised herself. She was all grown-up now. It was time she started acting that way.

Monroe, Utah, was a small town, and she planned to be there for nearly a month. As matters stood, she had a choice. She could settle things with Travis Conroy here and now, or she could repeat the same idiotic performance every time they ran into each other. It was up to her to do the intelligent thing.

Facing herself in the mirror, Eden freshened her lipstick, smoothed her hair and squared her shoulders. She would handle this like a pro, she assured herself. She would be cool, detached and assertive. Travis Conroy was nothing but a small-town nobody. She had absolutely no reason to feel intimidated by him.

All the same, as she walked out of the rest room, Eden’s heart danced a skittish little tango of fear. What she was about to do would be as difficult as anything she’d ever done in her life.



Travis lowered his lanky frame onto a Naugahyde settee, hooked his Stetson over one angled leg and flipped open the paperback. The book was a fast-paced thriller by one of his favorite authors, but today, for some reason, he couldn’t keep his mind on the plot.

Turning a page, he glanced impatiently at his watch. Nicole’s flight from L.A. wouldn’t be in for fifteen or twenty minutes. If he could get through the next couple of chapters…

Oh, what the hell!

The book dropped to his lap as he surrendered to the angst he’d held in check since his first glimpse of the woman who called herself Eden Harper.

It was over, Travis reminded himself. He’d had sixteen years to put the whole silly incident behind him. By any measure, that was time enough.

So why were his emotions churning like the agitator in an old-fashioned Maytag?

This was crazy.

Checking his watch again, Travis shifted his buttocks against the sagging upholstery and tried to concentrate on his reading. But it was no good. The past was pushing into his thoughts, crowding out his efforts to forget.

And right there on the front line was Edna Rae Harper.

Travis slumped in his seat, remembering.

It had been his senior year—the year he’d captained the team that won its second straight Class A basketball championship. Edna Rae had been a sophomore then, younger than her classmates because she’d been double-promoted back in grade school.

Not that Travis had cared one way or the other. With her frumpy clothes, her horn-rimmed glasses and her way of staring at the floor when she walked down the halls, Edna Rae Harper hadn’t exactly been his dream girl—or anybody else’s, for that matter.

Travis had never given her a second glance. In fact, he’d scarcely been aware she existed, until that May afternoon when the year-end edition of the school paper was passed out.

Between the folds of each paper, someone had slipped a photocopied letter—a letter penned in a hand as delicate and feminine as the curl of a morning-glory vine.

Oh, Travis, my darling, when will we be together again? How long must I burn like this, tossing in my bed, feeling your hands on my pulsing breasts, feeling the velvet warmth of your skin and the sweet hot wine of your lips? How long before I hear your voice murmuring in my ear, I love you, Edna Rae, I love—

”Hello again.”

Eden’s breathy contralto, coming from directly behind him, jolted Travis back to the present. He swiveled in his seat to look at her, his eyes taking in the clean square planes of her face, the taffy gold mass of her hair and the chic drape of the expensive pantsuit on her slender frame. For whatever it was worth, drab little Edna Rae had grown up to be a stunner.

“Uh, hello,” he replied, caught off guard. After the way she’d gone dashing off, the last thing he’d expected was to have her show up again.

She came around the back of the settee, eyes downcast, cheeks becomingly flushed. Travis watched her in silence, liking her walk, liking, in spite of everything, the catlike way she lowered herself onto the edge of the chair that faced him across the low table. The image of her, bolting crimson-faced out of the men’s room, stole into his mind, coaxing his mouth into a bemused smile.

“I came to apologize,” she said.

In the tick of silence that followed, Travis was aware of a jet screaming down the runway outside the window.

“Apologize? For what?” he forced himself to ask.

“For today. For this whole silly mess. I was hiding out in the rest room when I realized I was being a defensive fool, and that none of what I was feeling was your fault. I’m sorry for that.”

“There’s no need to be sorry about anything.” He mouthed the words, wondering where all this was leading. A typical woman would not apologize unless she had some agenda in mind. But then, there’d never been anything typical about Edna Rae Harper.

She stared awkwardly at her hands, looking, at that instant, more like the shy Edna Rae than the polished Eden. “I realized something else, too. In the sixteen years since that awful day at school, I’ve never told you how sorry I was for the embarrassment I caused you.”

“I…never expected you to.” Travis forced himself to meet her eyes, wishing she’d chosen to talk about something else. His classmates had ribbed him mercilessly about that damn fool letter, but at least most of them had realized he was innocent. Not so the townspeople. By the time the story had circulated through the little community, Travis’s reputation had blackened to the hue of coal tar.

“You didn’t exactly have it easy yourself, did you?” he asked, shifting the burden of conversation back to her.

Eden’s gaze flickered to her lap again. She hadn’t come back to school for the rest of the year, Travis recalled. Her mother had claimed she was sick and received permission for the humiliated girl to complete her last two weeks of schoolwork by correspondence.

“That ridiculous letter was private,” she said, staring down at her manicured hands with their pale peach nails. “I never meant anyone to see it, especially you.”

“I know that,” Travis feigned a detachment he did not feel. “How were you to know that Howie Segmiller would find the letter in your looseleaf and make copies for the whole school?”

A shudder passed through Eden’s slim controlled body. “I…I’m sorry. I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I couldn’t even think about yours. I can only imagine how much difficulty that letter must have caused you.”

Travis’s restless fingers curled the paperback into a thick roll. He’d been going steady with Cheryl McKinley, the prettiest girl in the junior class, he recalled. Three days after the letter incident, Cheryl had informed him that her parents wouldn’t let her date him anymore.

Cheryl had married a beet farmer from Sigurd and had five kids now. He had gone off to the University of Utah and met Diane.

“It’s over, Eden,” he said with a shrug. “Water under the bridge, as they say. We’re both different people now.”

“Yes…I suppose we are.” She managed a strained smile. “Whatever happened to Howie Segmiller, anyway?”

“Last time I spoke with his mother, he was running for city council in Pioche, Nevada.”

“I was hoping to hear he was doing time at Point of the Mountain!” She managed a husky little laugh—fragile but real. Travis found himself wanting to hear it again.

“Howie Segmiller a jailbird?” He shook his head, chuckling. “Oh, Howie was no angel, I’ll grant you. But he was too smart to get more than a hand slap. Perfect political material!”

Eden did laugh then, a surprisingly delicious sound, as sexy as the rustle of silk against a bare thigh. For a few seconds Travis allowed himself to bask in it, savoring the naughty little tickle it gave him.

What if he was to push the idea of giving her a ride home? He’d brought up the subject out of politeness the first time and had shrugged off her refusal with a sense of relief. But what harm would it do? The long bus trip south, with its endless string of ten-minute stops, was an ordeal nobody deserved. He could—

Forget it!

This was Edna Rae Harper, he reminded himself. He had spent years undoing the damage her dumb teenage fantasy had caused.

Some things were too hard won to risk.

Travis glanced at his watch again as a crowd of passengers spilled out of a gate and onto the concourse. Across from him, Eden stirred and reached for her briefcase.

“It’s time I was going,” she said. “My luggage will be coming in, and I can see that you’re waiting for someone.”

“I’m waiting for my daughter. But she’s not due in for a few minutes yet.” Travis realized he’d just issued an invitation for Eden to stick around. Strangely enough, he was enjoying her company more than he’d expected.

“Your daughter?” The sunlight slanted soft gold on her face as she leaned toward him. “So you’ve got a little girl!” she exclaimed with an animation that made Travis wince.

“That’s right. But Nicole’s not so little anymore. She turned fourteen last month.”

“Fourteen.” Eden hesitated, then slowly released her grip on the handle of her briefcase. “Where’s she flying from?”

“California. She lives there with her mother and stepfather. I get her every summer.” Travis’s voice carried an edge. Nine years was plenty of time to get over Diane. But losing Nicole—that part had never stopped hurting.

Well, the hurt was about to ease, he reminded himself. A few minutes from now, the plane would be touching down on the tarmac, and Nicole would be back in his life. His little pal. His hiking, camping, fishing and riding partner for the rest of the summer. It would be wonderful to feel like a father again.

Travis watched the flight of a sea gull as it skimmed past the window and veered out over the runway. His restless fingers ruffled the pages of the paperback in his lap.

Soon, he thought. Soon.

And in the meantime, there was the intriguing Miss Harper.



Eden uncrossed her legs and smoothed out a crease in her linen slacks. Now would be the smart time to get up and leave, she admonished herself. Travis’s daughter would be arriving any minute. Seeing her father with a strange woman could give the young girl a painfully wrong impression.

But Travis seemed in no hurry to have her go. He was leaning back in his seat, regarding her lazily. Was he resentful, amused or merely bored? Eden could read no clue in the smoky depths of his narrowed eyes.

She fiddled with her briefcase, her pulse clunking like a bent bicycle wheel as she grappled with this new set of realities.

Travis, divorced, with a fourteen-year-old daughter.

Travis, sitting across from her as if they had never been anything but friends.

Her restless gaze dropped to the big, sun-bronzed hand that lay across the open paperback, and she pondered his lack of wedding ring. It was impossible to believe Travis Conroy could be unattached for long. He’d had females chasing him since he was in kindergarten. All he had to do was take his pick.

Oh, what was she doing here, thinking inanities and blushing like a moron? She had to get out of here before she made a complete fool of herself.

“So tell me what you do in New York,” he said, making a stab at conversation.

“Me?” Eden blinked her mind back into focus. “Oh…I’ve just been promoted to senior editor at Parnell Books. I’ve got my eye on my boss’s job when he retires next year—that is, if some other publishing house doesn’t lure me away first.”

A smile flickered enticingly around his eyes. “So you’re an editor. I always thought you had the brains to make something of yourself.”

“Really?” The compliment had caught Eden off guard. Her heart sank as she felt the all-too-familiar flush of color creep up her throat to flood her cheeks. She groped for something to fill the excruciating silence.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen your daughter?” she asked lamely.

“Too long.” He shifted his shoulders with a sigh. “I was supposed to have her over the Christmas holidays, but she came down with chicken pox. Diane promised me spring vacation to make up the time, but then Nicole had a chance to go to Hawaii with her cousins. She was so damned excited about it. What could I say?”

“So you haven’t seen her since last fall?”

“Nope.” Travis stretched his long legs, crossing his worn cowboy boots at the ankles. “And I’m getting pretty anxious. She’s a special little lady. Gets good grades, plays the flute like an angel. And she likes camping and fishing almost as much as her old dad does. We’re going to have a great time this summer, just—”

He broke off as the PA blared, announcing an arrival at gate B-16. “Hey! That’s Nicole’s flight! Come on, I’ll introduce you!”

“I really don’t think…” Eden began. But he was already out of earshot, charging down the concourse toward the swarm of deplaning passengers.

Eden hesitated. Then, resolving not to follow him, she stood up, slung her heavy briefcase over one shoulder and strode in the opposite direction, toward the escalator that led down to the baggage-claim area. It was time for a fast exit. An extra couple of hours on a bus were nothing compared to what she could get herself into by sticking around.

Except…She paused, torn by curiosity. After the way Travis had rhapsodized about his little girl, it might be interesting to see what she looked like. It would be an intriguing challenge, Eden mused, to try to pick Travis’s daughter out of a crowd. Afterward, it would still be easy enough to slip away and catch a taxi for the Greyhound depot.

Impulsively she turned around and strolled back along the far side of the concourse to an unobtrusive spot that gave her a view of the gate. She could see Travis, pine-tall, straining forward as the passengers filed out of the jetway. Clearly he was still watching for his daughter.

Settling back against the wall, Eden began to play her game, assessing each female passenger who emerged through the gate. A young woman with a baby—no. A chic fiftyish matron in a designer suit—certainly not. A pubescent child-woman in sunglasses, skintight hip huggers and a formfitting crop top—hardly! A pretty, young—yes, of course! The studious-looking girl carrying a flute case, her chestnut curls tied back with a ribbon. No doubt about it. That was Nicole.

Eden glanced over at Travis. He was standing stock-still, looking as if he’d just been poleaxed.

“Nicole!” He rasped out the name as the young girl with the flute case passed him without a glance.

“Nicole, over here!”

A squeal of delight exploded from the nymphet in the skintight jeans.

“Daddy!” she warbled, hurling herself into Travis’s arms with a force that nearly bowled him over. “Oh, Daddy! You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you!”




Chapter Two (#ulink_a721b5ec-f501-5141-8b0c-c623cab72572)


“You’ve, uh, gotten taller.” Still dazed, Travis braced his daughter at arm’s length. His gaze took in the outsize sunglasses, the boyishly cropped hair, the white knit top that ended at mid-rib cage and was snug enough to show off her—

But never mind. There was no place below Nicole’s tanned shoulders where Travis could comfortably rest his eyes.

“Aren’t you glad to see me?” Her tentative smile was as flawless as a string of pearls. She’d gotten her braces off, he realized. And no one had even told him about it.

“‘Glad’ isn’t the word for it, sweetheart. I’m just, uh, a little startled, that’s all. You’re not my little girl anymore. You’re growing up. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“All little girls grow up.” She shifted her tote bag and linked an arm through his. “You wouldn’t want me to be a kid forever, would you?”

“I don’t know. It was pretty nice while it lasted.” Travis adjusted his long strides to her smaller ones, wishing he had a blanket to fling around her nubile, exposed body. Very soon he would have to take her to task about that outfit—or lack of outfit. But not just yet. Not in their first precious minutes together.

“Hungry?” he asked her. “We could stop for burgers on our way out of town.”

She shook her head like a saucy little bird. “I macked a sandwich on the plane. But I’ve got to run to the john.” She handed him the claim check she’d fished out of her tote bag. “You go ahead and grab my stuff off the carousel. I’ll catch up in a sec.”

Brushing a kiss on his cheek, she released his arm and scampered into the crowd. A balding bearded male in a Budweiser T-shirt moved aside to let her pass. His eyes flicked over her body with an expression so lustful that it was all Travis could do to keep from hurling himself at the man and inflicting major damage. No, the issue of Nicole’s costume could not wait a minute longer.

“Nicole!”

She glanced demurely back over her shoulder.

“Don’t you have a sweatshirt or something in that bag? You need to put some clothes on.”

She stared at him as if he’d just time-warped from the 1800s. “Oh, Daddy, don’t be a nerd! It’s the middle of June! It’s summer, and these are my clothes!”

“Now, look, young lady…” Travis’s words evaporated like spit on a hot sidewalk as Nicole flashed into the King’s-X zone of the women’s rest room. He stood there fuming as he struggled to come to terms with the past two minutes of his life.

In college he had sat through classes in adolescent psychology and read more books on the subject than he cared to remember. In the early years, when he’d taught high-school math to support the ranch, he’d seen scores of young girls pass into womanhood. He certainly understood that females in their teens could be difficult.

But nothing had prepared him for the emotional bronco ride of dealing with his own daughter.

Jamming his Stetson onto his head, he turned and strode up the concourse, headed for the escalator and the baggage-claim area. One thing was certain. Miss Nicole Conroy was overdue for an attitude adjustment. Once they got safely home, setting her straight would be the first priority on his list.

The ride south, which he’d been looking forward to all day, suddenly loomed as a three-hour battle with a headstrong teenager. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea, after all, to shanghai Eden Harper for the duration. At least, with Eden along, there’d be someone to serve as a buffer between—

Eden.

Travis swore under his breath as he realized the woman was nowhere in sight.

Halting in midstride, he turned around and scanned the length of the concourse. No Eden.

Maybe she’d already carried out her plan to take a cab to the bus station. Fine and dandy, Travis groused, growing more irritated by the minute. What had he expected? That she’d be waiting for him to grab her by the hair and drag her to the truck?

Loping back to the escalator, he caught a step for the downward ride. Below him, the baggage-claim enclosure bustled with activity as suitcases, duffels and boxes spun off the conveyors. Travis fumbled for Nicole’s claim check. Glancing out over the carousels, he suddenly caught sight of Eden’s sugar-blond head. She was at the far end of the floor, fidgeting impatiently with her briefcase as she waited for her bags. Probably anxious to make her getaway. Well, fine. He certainly had no right to stop her.

As the escalator glided downward, he conjured up an image of Eden waiting in the dingy bus station, then sitting up in a cramped seat next to some snoring matriarch while the bus made stops at Ephriam, at Manti, at Axtell, at Gunnison, at Centerfield…What the hell, it was her choice. Let her go.

As he stepped off the escalator, a glance in Eden’s direction told him she had spotted her luggage. She was moving toward the carousel, shifting her briefcase to her shoulder to free her hands. Don’t borrow more trouble, Travis’s brain cautioned. But his legs weren’t listening. Unbidden, they were moving fast, covering the floor in long loping strides that carried him to her side.

“Here!” he exclaimed, reaching in front of her for one of the matching charcoal gray suitcases. “At least let me haul these to the curb for you.”

Dismay flickered in Eden’s eyes, and Travis instantly wished he’d kept his distance. “Look,” he said, “I’m not planning to talk you out of taking the bus. In fact, it’s probably just as well that you don’t ride home with me.”

“I just don’t want to cause any more trouble—for either of us.” Her voice was frayed, like tightly strained silk. Its raw sexiness was a burr that irritated Travis to the snapping point.

“Fine, then. At least we understand—”

The words ended in a croak as he glanced up and saw Nicole coming down the escalator. She had taken off her sunglasses, and as she glided downward, her dark eyes twinkled impishly up at a blond, husky young man in a Utah State University T-shirt who shared the same step.

Travis battled the urge to grind his teeth. Nicole was saying something now, and the young hulk was grinning down at her—no, drooling was more like it. And he was no puppy, either. He looked to be at least nineteen, too damned old to be flirting with a fourteen-year-old child.

“Travis, are you all right?” Eden’s voice pricked the edge of his awareness. He turned on her in sudden desperation.

“Ride with us,” he rasped. “I’m not inviting you, Eden, I’m begging you. Otherwise, before we get home, I’m liable to strangle the little twit.”

“Daddy!” Nicole had spun off the bottom of the escalator, and, with a breezy wave to the hulk, came bouncing toward them with the verve of a half-grown shelty. Watching her, Travis groaned inwardly. How could a father broach the subject of wearing a decent bra to his daughter?

“Hey, you’re waiting in the wrong place,” she said. “My bags’ll be coming off on number three…” Her voice trailed off as her gaze flickered to Eden’s sleek gray Pullman dangling from Travis’s hand, and then to Eden herself, who was scrambling to retrieve the matching garment bag.

“Uh…hi.” Nicole’s voice quavered uncertainly.

Sensing her mistaken impression, Travis stepped in quickly. “Nicole, this is Miss Eden Harper, one of my former schoolmates. She just flew in from New York and we, uh, sort of bumped into each other on the concourse.”

“Oh.” Nicole’s sharp brown eyes inspected Eden up and down before her face relaxed into a flippant grin. “New York, huh? That’s cool.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Nicole.” Eden extended a slightly nervous hand, which Nicole accepted with the jerky politeness of a marionette.

“Eden’s on her way to Monroe. I’ve offered her a ride, and I do believe she’s accepted.” Travis avoided Eden’s eyes. So what if he was railroading her? He was a desperate man.

“Cool.” Nicole was still sizing up Eden, weighing the possibilities. “Hey, that jacket kicks!” she said. “Did you buy it in New York?”

“Uh-huh. At Bloomingdale’s. On clearance, I’m afraid, but definitely Bloomingdale’s.” An intriguing spark danced in Eden’s light green eyes. “You know, with your coloring, I’ll bet this jacket would look great on you. Why don’t we find out?”

Nicole might have protested, but Eden was already shrugging out of the beige linen suit jacket. Travis blinked as Nicole dropped her tote bag and turned a submissive back, arms sliding into the proffered sleeves. Within seconds, she was modestly covered.

“What do you think?” She struck a model’s pose for Eden’s approval.

“Sensational!” Eden grinned. “Want to wear it home?”

“Hey, could I really?” Nicole angled her body this way and that, inspecting the lapels and pockets. “Bloomingdale’s, huh? Cool.”

“Come on, let’s cut the fashion show and round up the baggage,” Travis growled, shooting Eden a glance of unabashed gratitude. He’d half expected the woman to bolt or protest on the spot. Instead, she had smoothed things over with a deftness that left him stunned.

Avoiding his gaze, Eden turned swiftly away—but not before he’d caught a jarring glimpse of what the jacket had concealed. Eden’s sleeveless peach silk blouse skimmed a curvaceous chest that he’d certainly never noticed on Edna Rae Harper. Maybe it was those baggy sweaters she’d always worn to school. Travis cursed silently as he tore his eyes away from the shadowed outline of lace beneath the gossamer-thin fabric. It was a good thing Nicole would be along to sit between them in the pickup. Otherwise, he could be in serious trouble.

Nicole’s twin duffels were leaden. Travis slung one from each shoulder and, with Nicole and Eden managing the rest of the luggage, they trudged out of the elevator onto the third level of the parking terrace.

“There’s the truck!” Nicole bounded ahead, dragging Eden’s wheeled Pullman case behind her. Travis deliberately slowed his steps, hoping Eden would stay back with him.

“I wanted to thank you while I have the chance,” he muttered, leaning close to her ear. “I was geared up for a battle royal over that outfit of hers.”

The subtle aura of Eden’s perfume tickled his senses as she walked deliberately ahead without glancing up at him. “Stay geared,” she hissed. “This is only the first skirmish. And the rest of the war is your problem, not mine.”

“You’re annoyed, aren’t you?”

She shot him an exasperated glance. “I just don’t want any gossip when we get home. And neither do you. People in small towns have long memories.”

“Well, I could always dump you in Richfield and let you hitch the last ten miles.”

Eden muttered something under her breath before releasing an explosive sigh. “All right. Truce. But after this, you’re on your own. I’ve spent sixteen years putting that awful day behind me, and nothing’s going to bring it back!”

She lengthened her step, heels clicking on the concrete as her long legs carried her away from him toward the pickup where Nicole waited.

Travis hung back, his emotions churning even as his gaze followed her sensual lioness walk.

What the hell, maybe she was right. Stirring up that ridiculous old scandal would do nothing for his image in the town, especially when word got out that he and Eden had been seen together. Leave the lady alone—that would be the smart thing to do.

Smart, yes.

But as Travis inhaled, the lingering scent of her perfume aroused a warm tingle that had nothing to do with wisdom.

Eden had reached the truck. She stood waiting for him to bring the key, gazing out over the rows of parked vehicles.

Travis pulled himself together with a mental slap. What was she being so uppity about, anyway? He had been the innocent party. And he would be the one to take the heat if things got stirred up again. Weeks from now, Miss Eden Harper would return to her New York world—a world so remote it might as well be on the moon. But he was the one who lived in Monroe. If anything happened between them, he was the one who’d be mopping up the mess.

Play it safe, Travis cautioned himself. Leave the lady on her doorstep and forget her.

But even as he strode toward the truck, he knew his willpower was going to have an uphill battle.



“I want to sit by the window!” Nicole hung on to the open door of the weather-beaten Ford pickup, swinging back and forth until the hinges squawked.

“Just climb in, young lady!” Travis’s shoulders rippled as he hefted the baggage, including Eden’s precious briefcase, into the truck’s open back. The truck bed had been swept, but green hay dust clung deep in the metal grooves, rich with the smell of home.

Eden’s memory stirred, recalling the small ranch Travis’s family had owned west of town on Poverty Flat. She remembered warm summer evenings, riding her bike along the back roads, filling her senses with the aroma of fresh-cut hay as she pedaled slowly past his gate. She remembered the wind in her hair, the mosquito bites on her legs, the exquisite surges of longing as she gazed toward his house….

“Please, Eden!” Nicole wheedled. “I want to see out! I get claustrophobia when I sit in the middle!”

“Now, listen…” Travis turned sharply, his voice harsh with annoyance. Sensing a confrontation, Eden impulsively stepped between them.

“It’s all right,” she said swiftly. “I really don’t mind sitting in the middle of the seat. Let Nicole have the window, if that’s what she wants.”

The thunderous scowl Travis flashed her made Eden realize she had overstepped her bounds, but he said nothing to confirm it. With a curt “Suit yourself,” he swung away, leaving her to scramble gracelessly into the high cab on her own while he secured the tailgate. She slid across the blanket-upholstered seat and straddled the gearbox with her legs, bracing for a very long three-hour ride.

Nicole plopped in beside her, grinning as she slammed the door of the truck and began rolling down the window. “Thanks. You’re cool, Eden. And I can already tell my daddy’s got the hots for you.”

“Nicole!” Eden’s heart sank as she felt the detested blush flame her cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re—”

“Psych!”

Nicole giggled, then, seeing Eden’s puzzled expression, she explained, “That means I was just kidding—wanted to see what you’d do. Boy, I’m sure glad I don’t blush like that! Hey, look at that buff guy…” She swiveled toward the open window, craning her neck to see past the side mirror.

Eden shrank into the upholstery, willing herself to vanish as Travis swung in beside her and buckled himself into the driver’s seat. Too late, she realized what close quarters the inside of a pickup truck could be. Barring visible contortions, there was no way she could sit comfortably without pressing against him from shoulder to knee.

A flutter of panic teased Eden’s diaphragm, climaxing in a nervous hiccup. Travis’s eyes stared straight ahead beneath the brim of his Stetson, as if she did not exist. His jaw tightened as he jammed the key into the ignition, then, as the engine roared to life, thrust his hand between her knees to grab the gearshift knob. Eden pressed her lips together as the oddly intimate contact touched off a little scherzo of hiccups.

Edna Rae had returned in all her glory.

Travis shot her a sidelong glance as he backed out of the parking space. “Put your seat belts on, ladies,” was all he said.

“Oh, you’re such an old fussbudget!” Nicole fumed. But she did snap her shoulder harness, then reach around to help drag the ends of Eden’s lap belt from under the back of the seat.

“Daddy, we need to stop and get sodas,” she piped up.

Travis ignored her. His elbow grazed Eden’s breast as he negotiated the corkscrew exit of the airport parking garage, igniting a tingle of awareness that caused them both to jerk apart.

“We need sodas,” Nicole persisted. “Eden’s got the hiccups. Listen.”

“I’m fine—really.” Eden punctuated her protest with an ill-timed hic as Travis pulled through the parking tollgate.

“Well, the sodas are going to have to wait till we get a few miles down the freeway,” he said. “There’s no place to stop out here.”

“Please don’t bother on my account,” Eden said, feeling woefully out of place. She did not belong in this role, playing buffer between a father and his willful young daughter. She especially did not belong in this truck, scrunched tight against the man who had made her pulse skitter since she was as young as Nicole. She was sick and tired of attractive males. Most of them, she’d sadly learned, were bullying, self-centered manipulators, and Travis Conroy was clearly no exception.

So why, then, was she reacting to him like a teenager in hormone overdrive?

Eden sat rigid as glass, excruciatingly aware of the heat that simmered along the line where her thigh lay against his. He smelled of the outdoors, of grass and sun and the kind of good, plain supermarket soap her mother always bought on sale. His flesh was warm and hard through the worn fabric of his jeans.

She took a deep breath, struggling to ignore the forbidden flutters his touch aroused in her body. A downward glance confirmed that her nipples had shrunk to tight little raspberries. They stood out through the wispy silk of a blouse she would never have chosen to wear without the concealing jacket. Too late, she missed the briefcase she’d allowed Travis to stow in the back. At least, she could have clutched it to her chest and hidden herself behind it.

Eden hiccuped wretchedly as the dry summer wind blasted her face through Nicole’s open window. The bus would have had air-conditioning, but she had no right to complain. She’d gotten herself into this mess. If she was miserable, it was no more than she deserved.

Lending Nicole her jacket had been an act of pure impulse, well motivated perhaps, but not well thought out. She had wanted to be friendly to the girl and to ease Travis’s obvious discomfort with her appearance. It had not occurred to her that she was walking into her own trap until it was too late to back out.

But why had she really done it? Eden scrunched, into the Navajo-blanket upholstery, lost in speculation. Did she feel some need to repay Travis Conroy for the embarrassment she’d caused? Or had she just wanted to show him that she was a big girl now, and savvy enough to handle a willful fourteen-year-old?

Oh, what was she doing here? If she had any sense, she would leap out of the truck, flag down a taxi and head straight for the bus depot!

The worst part was the way Travis had lapped it all up. He probably thought she was great with teenage girls. Well, she wasn’t. Apart from the memories of her own painful adolescence, she understood nothing about them, especially pretty, self-assured creatures like Nicole. To her, they were like bubbly little space aliens, beings from a world she had always envied but never inhabited.

Travis’s knuckles bumped her knees as the truck growled into second gear. Eden tensed, fearful of what the contact might arouse in her.

She could hold her own in the workplace, where she knew exactly what was expected. But when it came to relationships, especially with men, Edna Rae was alive and well. A few months ago she had almost believed she could change-but no, she could not afford to think about her broken engagement now. She would only get maudlin, and that wouldn’t do. Especially not in front of Travis Conroy.

She would make the best of the next three hours, Eden resolved with a hiccuping sigh. She would be civil to Travis and patient with the high-spirited Nicole. And when the ride was over, she would thank them kindly and run for her life—or at least for her sanity.

She would have to.

Any way you looked at him, Travis Conroy was trouble, more trouble than she ever wanted to deal with again.



Travis shifted into third, his wrist skimming Eden’s thigh as the truck ground up the on-ramp and nosed onto the interstate. He was making every effort to appear cool, but the veneer was already wearing thin. The changes in Nicole had thrown him off balance, and now, with no time to recover, he found himself plastered side by side against one of the most disturbingly attractive females he had ever encountered.

And the hell of it was, she was Edna Rae Harper.

This was crazy, Travis lashed himself as he gunned the engine and roared into the center lane. This lady was the original ugly duckling. Worse, her misguided fantasies had triggered one of the most embarrassing episodes of his life.

All he had ever wanted to do with Edna Rae Harper was forget her.

He stared fixedly at the black butt of the Pontiac LeMans in front of him, doing his damnedest to keep his eyes off Eden’s peach silk blouse. The way the fabric clung—No, he vowed, not one glance. But even the best intent could not stop his imagination from working. Her fragrant warmth invaded his senses, stirring a vision of ripe peaches in the summer sun, round, lush, silky to the touch of his fingertips…

It was enough to make a man sweat.

“So, uh, how long do you plan to be in Monroe?” he asked, making a lame stab at conversation.

Eden’s bare arm grazed his shoulder as she shifted in her seat. “Let’s see…I’ll be running my mother back to Provo tomorrow, and they’ll be doing her hysterectomy the next morning at Utah Valley Regional. After that, maybe four or five weeks, depending on how fast she recovers.”

“At least you’ll have a vacation from your job.”

“Not really. That heavy briefcase you put in the back is full of manuscripts to read and edit.”

“Hey, you’re an editor?” Nicole, who’d been hanging out the window like a happy Labrador retriever, popped her head back into the cab. “That’s cool. Do you work with any kickin’ writers, like Stephen King?”

“I’m afraid not. Parnell is an educational textbook company. Compared to Stephen King, most of the stuff I work on is pretty dry.”

“Textbooks! Yuck!” Nicole twisted back toward the open window to wave at the blond male driver of a red Corvette. Travis ground his teeth, biting back the temptation to lecture her. Nicole was just keyed up from the trip, that was all. She would settle down fine after a day or two on the ranch. Then everything would be just like old times.

Eden was gazing past him now, toward the rugged Wasatch Mountains that jutted between the city and the eastern sky. “I noticed traces of hay in the back of the truck,” she ventured. “Does that mean you’re working the old family ranch?”

Travis forced a sidelong grin. “You have been away a long time,” he said. “I moved back to the ranch when I finished college. Been there ever since.”

“Ranching.” Eden fidgeted with her nails. “Somehow I always imagined you in a more glamorous role, like a sportscaster, or an FBI agent, or a male super model.”

“Oh, nothing of the sort. Running that ranch is all I ever wanted to do.” Travis edged the truck around the small Pontiac, striving to ignore the womanly warmth of Eden’s leg and the sensually whispered message of her perfume. Edna Rae Harper. He rolled the name in his mind as he took a deep breath and continued speaking.

“My dad barely made enough on the place to keep the family fed. The land’s too dry and rocky for most crops. Even the few cows he kept were poor milkers. But ten years ago, I started raising quarter horses. The horses do fine with extra hay and oats, and since I mortgaged the place to pick up a champion stud, the colts have been bringing decent money in Vegas and L.A.”

“You sound like a satisfied man.” She settled back into the seat beside him, the hot wind bannering her spun-honey hair.

“Satisfied?” Travis let the question hang on the air. If “satisfied” meant coming home to an empty house and eating supper alone, then drifting into solitary slumber in the big brass bed where his parents had conceived five children…

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, feigning smugness, “you might say I’ve done all right by the old place.”

“It sounds as if you have no plans to leave.” Eden stirred, her breast brushing his sleeve with the impact of a rocket burst.

“Leave?” Travis’s attempted chuckle came out sounding hollow. “My grandpa bought that land west of town when he came home from the First World War. My dad spent his whole life there, battling rocks and tumbleweeds to grub out a livelihood. He and Mom raised five kids before they passed on. I was the baby of the family—but then, I guess you know all that.

“Over the years, as I watched my brothers and sisters spread their wings, I promised myself that after I got my education, I’d come back and take care of the ranch, maybe even make something fine of it one day.”

He paused for breath. He’d been talking too much, he realized. Probably making a bore of himself. What was wrong with him today, anyway? With the women he occasionally dated, he was never at a loss for clever flattering things to say. But in the thirty-odd minutes he’d spent with Eden Harper, he’d done little more than talk about himself. He’d already unloaded a good chunk of his life in her lap. If he didn’t stop soon—

“Hey!” he announced, seizing the moment. “I see a Circle K sign just past that off-ramp. Anybody for sodas?”

“Me!” Nicole jerked her head back inside the cab. “I’ll have an extra-large Diet Coke. And can I have some Cheetos, too? And a Milky Way?”

“Sure.” Travis pulled into the exit lane, grateful that at least one thing about Nicole—her appetite—hadn’t changed. “What’s your pleasure, Eden?”

“Uh…iced tea. Plain. And thank you.”

“You won’t get much nourishment out of that. Sure I can’t get you a hot dog or something?”

“I had lunch on the plane. Tea will be fine.”

“Hey, Eden!” Nicole grinned. “I think your hiccups are gone!”

“Oh…” Eden blinked, then, as if on cue, emitted a lusty hic. Her cheeks flushed appealingly as she shrugged, then laughed, shaking her wind-tangled hair. She looked damned sexy, Travis observed. And he knew some very interesting cures for the hiccups. The thought flashed through his mind that, under different circumstances, he wouldn’t mind trying some of them on her.

But this was crazy, he reminded himself with a sharp mental slap. People in small towns had memories like elephants. Take up with Edna Rae Harper, and the whole idiotic scandal would come crashing down on their heads again.

Forcing his mind back to the present, he swung the truck into the parking lot. “Hold down the fort, ladies. I’ll be right back,” he said, swinging out of the cab. “Let’s see-extra-large Diet Coke, Chee-tos, a Milky Way and one plain iced tea. Right?”

“Right,” said Nicole. “And a pack of Big Red.”

“Got it.” Travis clicked shut the door of the truck and strode into the convenience store. He hadn’t decided what to get for himself, except that it would need to be large, wet and cold.

Damned cold.



“Did you really go to school with my dad? Wow, it must have been a long time ago!”

Thanks a lot, kid! Eden squirmed under Nicole’s open scrutiny, feeling like a frog on a dissecting table. Travis had been gone about twenty seconds, and she was already getting the third degree.

“Longer than your whole lifetime,” she answered pleasantly. “Your father graduated two years before I did.”

“And did you think my dad was hot?”

“Nicole…” Eden’s cheeks blazed like neon.

“A lot of girls do, you know. Even now that he’s so old. And the women in town—God, you should see them!”

“Don’t swear, Nicole. Your father wouldn’t like it.”

“But you wouldn’t believe them! Calling him on the phone! Bringing him pies and brownies and chicken casseroles! Inviting him over for supper, and who knows what else! He could marry any one of them in a minute. But he won’t. Want to know why?”

“That really isn’t any of my business,” Eden forced herself to say.

Nicole ran a hand through her gamine thatch of dark brown curls. “Want to know?”

“Nicole—” Eden’s protest ended in another hiccup. “All right. Why?”

“Because he’s still in love with my mom, that’s why. After all these years, he’s never gotten over her. That’s why he hasn’t found anybody else.” Nicole studied her pert reflection in the side mirror. “So, you didn’t answer my question. When you were in high school, did you think my dad was hot?”

Eden exhaled in defeat. “All the girls thought so. I guess I did, too.”

Nicole leaned closer to the mirror, squinting at an imaginary blemish. “Know what a girl in his high school did? She wrote this mash letter to my dad in her notebook. Real X-rated stuff, from what I heard. Some boy found the letter and passed out copies with the school paper. Poor Daddy was embarrassed to death, and I guess it just about ruined his reputation for good.”

Eden had gone cold in the stifling heat of the cab. “Where,” she managed to ask, “did you ever hear such a story?”

“From Kim Driscoll. Last summer. Kim said the girl’s name was Agnes or something, and that she was a real nerd. She left town after graduation and never came back. Did you know her, Eden?”

Eden shook her head in feeble denial, casting urgent glances past the gas pumps to the entrance of the Circle K, where Travis had just stepped outside.

“Run and help your father, Nicole,” she said. “He looks as if he might be about to drop those big drinks.”

“Right!” Travis’s daughter flashed out of the truck to bound across the asphalt in the swimming heat. Eden sagged limply against the upholstery, her silk blouse clinging to her skin. Her stomach clenched as she faced the reality of going home to the place where people still talked about Edna Rae Harper.

How could she do it? After what her ridiculous teenage fantasizing had done to Travis, how could she show her face in town again?

Worse, how could she avoid it?

On her other rare visits to Monroe, she had simply stayed out of sight. This time, Eden realized, hiding would not be an option. There would be shopping to do, errands to run, callers to greet. For the period of her mother’s recovery, she would have no choice except to deal with people who hadn’t seen her in years, but who still remembered the scandal and, evidently, still talked about it.

She would rise to the challenge, Eden resolved grimly. She would smile and hold her head high, as if the disgrace had never happened. Her conduct would be above reproach; and that would include keeping a wide country mile between herself and Travis Conroy.

That part, Eden assured herself, would be easy. After this miserable trip, Travis would never want to see her again, and the sentiment was mutual. The cookie-and-casserole crowd could have him—that is, if any of them could lure him away from the memory of his ex-wife.

“Your tea, milady.”

Eden’s eyes fluttered open as something cold and wet slid along her cheek. She had dozed off, she suddenly realized. And Travis was beside her, touching her hot face with the chilled, glistening bottle of iced tea.

“Feel good?” He met her startled gaze with a grin as the glassy coolness slipped dreamily down the curve of her throat, to pause at the neckline of her damp silk blouse. Eden’s eyelids floated shut, then jerked open again.

“Give me that!” Flustered and confused, she snatched the bottle out of his hand. “Wh-where’s Nicole?”

“Inside, buying the toothbrush she forgot to pack.” He swung into the seat beside her, balancing a bucket-size colddrink cup in his left hand. “Sorry it’s so hot in here. My next truck will have air-conditioning, I promise.”

“If my memory doesn’t fail me, there’s a Ford dealership off the next exit.”

“Very funny.” He tossed Nicole’s snacks onto her seat, then leaned back and took a long pull on his straw. “You’re all right, Eden Harper. You’ve got class.”

Eden forced her hazy mind to generate a response. “More class than Edna Rae?”

A shadow flickered across his face, then swiftly vanished. “Edna Rae had class, too,” he said. “She just didn’t know it.” Without asking, he reclaimed her iced-tea bottle and twisted off the lid. “Here, drink up. It’ll help cool you off.”

Accepting the tea, Eden tilted back her head and let its lovely brisk coldness trickle down her throat. She’d gotten up at 4:30 a.m. to catch a cab to La Guardia for the flight west. She was sweaty and exhausted. Her clothes were glued to her body, her hair was a windblown mess, and the aspirin she’d taken earlier hadn’t even made a dent in her headache.

But at least, she realized, her hiccups had stopped.

She cradled the icy bottle between her palms, painfully conscious of Travis’s presence beside her. Striving for an air of cool detachment, she raised the bottle to her lips and took a deep swallow. The tea went down her windpipe. She coughed and sputtered, wishing passionately that she could just melt into the floorboard and disappear.

“Hey, are you okay?” The edge in Travis’s voice could have been either concern or amusement.

She nodded, struggling against the cough reflex. “I’m…fine. It’s just…Edna Rae, coming back to…haunt me.”

Again, that odd dark shadow flickered across his face. “Eden, you don’t have to—”

He broke off as Nicole came bounding into sight, waving the toothbrush she’d bought. Eden felt a prickle of relief. Forget the past, she told herself. Forget it all. That was the only sensible thing to do.

Nicole popped into the cab and slammed the door hard. Her free hand darted to the radio, flipped on the power switch and punched the select buttons till the heavy-metal beat of a local rock station blared out of the speakers.

“Okay, Daddy?” she shouted over the volume.

“Eden?” Travis shot her a questioning glance.

“Fine.” Eden slumped into the seat cushions, her head throbbing in rhythm with the beat. She’d long since outgrown her taste for hard rock, but at least with the music blasting, she wouldn’t be expected to carry on a conversation.

“Seat belts, ladies!” Travis swung the truck out of the parking lot and back toward the freeway. Eden complied groggily as the long day’s fatigue caught up with her. The traffic, the billboards and the gray-green June landscape swam and blurred in her vision. Even Nicole’s radio music dimmed as her eyelids grew heavier…



Travis exhaled as the weight of Eden’s head plopped against his shoulder. Take it easy, he cautioned himself as he worked his hand between her linen-clad knees to reach the gearshift knob. Just shift your mind into neutral and keep it there until you’ve left this lady where she belongs.

Moving slowly, he put the truck into high gear and cranked the growling engine up to sixty-five for the long drive home. His eyes risked a glance at her sleeping face, even as he battled the temptation to let his gaze drift lower.

No, he reflected darkly, it had not been a smart idea, bringing her along. Over the years, he had managed to distance himself from Edna Rae and the trouble she’d caused him. He had buried her image, freezing it in the past like a photograph in an old high-school yearbook. For a long time now, he had felt safe.

But he could feel safe no longer. Not with Eden’s sleepy weight against his arm. Not with her hair blowing soft and pale against his sleeve and the warm damp sensuality of her fragrance curling in his nostrils.

Edna Rae was back, invading his life with an impact he had never imagined. It was as if some long-barred door inside him had cracked open, and he could not see what was on the other side. He was intrigued, Travis conceded. He was also confused, angry, and plain damned scared.

The only sensible course was to play it cool. Be friendly with the lady. Talk to her. Joke with her as if nothing had happened. Then leave her at her front door and run like a five-point buck.

He had put the past behind him. Nothing—not even a sexy, vulnerable, funny lady with spun-sugar hair—was worth bringing it back.




Chapter Three (#ulink_83042c58-dd18-5919-bde9-d43ef5d30641)


The sun cast long fingers of shadow over the scrub-dotted hills as Travis pulled off the freeway at the Scipio cutoff. Nicole’s rock station had faded into static. Nicole had faded with it. She was curled sound asleep against the locked door, the half-empty bag of Chee-tos still clutched in her lap.

He reached out and switched off the radio, welcoming the silence. Eden stirred against his shoulder, whimpered like a dreaming pup and settled back into slumber. Her perfume had mellowed, blending with her own musky scent in a mélange that Travis found disturbingly erotic. For a man who savored smell, touch and taste, as well as sight, he reflected, Eden Harper possessed the makings of a sensual banquet.

The day had been long and hot. Travis was tired—too tired to stop his mind from imagining how that banquet would progress. He would start by nuzzling the windblown honey of her hair, then move on to explore the salty involuted shell of her ear with his tongue tip, taking time to nibble his way around to her mango-sweet lips and savor the dark wine-moist secrets of her mouth. Next he would ease up the hem of that luscious peach blouse and ripple his hands slowly over her—

Damn!

What the devil did he think he was doing? This was Edna Rae Harper he was getting so worked up about! Edna Rae, whose unrequited crush had touched off the biggest disaster of his high-school years.

But not, by any means, the biggest disaster of his life.

He had not wanted the divorce. But looking back from a perspective of nine years, he could see that the split with Diane had been inevitable. They had married far too young and become parents before either of them was ready. For Diane, raised in the posh world of Newport Beach, life in a tiny two-room apartment, with no money, a demanding baby and a husband preoccupied with school and work, must have been hell on earth.

A coyote darted out of the junipers and flashed across the road, a gray phantom in the twilight. Travis switched on the headlights and swung his attention back to his driving. There were plenty of deer on this road, not to mention stray cattle. It wouldn’t do to hit something or to swerve off the shoulder of the two-lane highway and roll into the barrow pit. Not with such precious cargo aboard.

His tired eyes gazed ahead of the lights, at the long blue ribbon of road. Things might have worked out differently if he’d done things Diane’s way, he reflected. But when he’d insisted on returning to Monroe and had taken a job at the high school…yes, it was a wonder the marriage had lasted as long as it did. Diane had hated small-town life. She had hated the ranch. Only Nicole had held them together. And in the end, even Nicole hadn’t been enough.

He glanced tenderly over at his daughter where she sprawled in her seat, wrapped in Eden’s jacket, clutching her Chee-tos as she slept. He hadn’t lost her, he reminded himself. She was here. She was his for the whole summer.

And things were bound to be all right between them. For all her grown-up airs, she was still his little girl. She was only fourteen, and she needed her father as much as she had ever needed him in her tender young life.

He would make the most of this summer, Travis promised himself. He would plan his time around being with Nicole, sharing fun, forging bonds of love and trust to last through the long months of separation.

As for Eden Harper, she had given him a turn, but the lady was only passing through. In an hour’s time, he would be unloading her bags in her driveway. If he had any sense, he would bid her a breezy farewell and put her out of his mind for good.

If he had any sense.

Aye, as Hamlet would say, there was the rub.

Eden’s head moved against his shoulder, her silky hair skimming his throat like a breath. The unexpected warmth that trickled through Travis’s body was so sweet that he almost moaned out loud.

No, he conceded, it wasn’t going to be that simple. Drab little Edna Rae Harper had evolved into a delicious woman, as tempting as homemade peach-vanilla ice cream on a hot summer day. The urge to steal a taste would torment him for as long as she was in town. If he allowed himself to weaken…

But he couldn’t afford to think of Eden now. Not while he was warm and muzzy and surrounded by the fragrant cocoon of her nearness. Any decision involving Miss Eden Harper would have to be made at a safe distance, with a cool clear head.

Travis dimmed his running lights as a car swished past in the opposite direction, headed for Scipio and the freeway. The sky was streaked with crimson above the escarpment that rimmed the lonesome little valley. The evening breeze was cool through the open window.

Restless now, he felt Eden’s sleepy weight against his arm and thought of home.



“Rise and shine, city lady.”

“Mmm?” Eden opened her eyes to Travis’s sinfully dimpled smile. His face was a hand’s breath from her own, so close that it startled her. She jerked backward.

He chuckled under his breath. “Wake up, Miss Harper. You’re home.”

“Oh…” She struggled upright as the truck’s dim interior swam into focus, including Nicole, sound asleep on her right.

“For what it’s worth, I came into town by the back road,” Travis whispered. “Nobody saw us. Our reputations remain unsullied.”

“Oh, shush!” Eden was too groggy and uncomfortable for pleasantries. The jab she gave his ribs was only half in jest. “Just get out of my way, and I’ll see if I can slide under the steering wheel and make my exit without disturbing your daughter.”

“Right.” With the engine still idling, he eased open the door of the pickup and dropped lightly to the ground. Eden forced her sleep-numbed body to stir. Sweat had plastered her clothes to her skin. The fabric shifted itchily as she slid across the seat. She did not even want to imagine what her face and hair must look like.

The driver’s seat was warmly indented with the imprint of Travis’s lean buttocks. He stood watching, eyes glinting sardonically as she slid beneath the steering wheel. Outside, it was almost fully dark—about nine-thirty, Eden calculated. She was grateful for the lateness of the hour and the quietness of the street. No one, not even her mother, seemed to have heard the truck pull into the driveway.

“Careful, it’s a long drop to the ground.” His hands reached up to help her out the door. In her groggy disheveled state, Eden wanted no part of him.

“It’s all right, I can make it by myself!” she snapped. And she might have done just that, except for the fact that her leg had gone to sleep somewhere past Yuba Lake. The benumbed foot that groped for a toehold missed the edge entirely. Eden tumbled backward into Travis’s waiting arms.

He caught her deftly by the waist, his strong hands supporting her from behind as he lowered her to the ground. “Easy now.” His voice, husky with amusement, droned in her ear like a big fuzzy bumblebee. “You’d better watch your step, Miss Harper. What will the neighbors think?”

For Eden, it was the last straw.

“Oh, leave me alone!” she muttered, twisting loose and turning to glower up at him. “All right, I admit it. From the first second I saw you at the airport, I’ve done nothing but make a fool of myself. But you don’t have to rub it in. The least you can do is leave me with some…dignity!”

Her voice cracked on the last word as she struggled for self-control. She might have wheeled and stormed into the house, but her luggage, she realized, was still in the back of the pickup.

“You’ve been laughing at me all afternoon!” she fumed. “Klutzy little Edna Rae, always stumbling over her own feet! Well, I’m not Edna Rae anymore! In fact, Edna Rae doesn’t even—”

“May I tell you something?” Travis’s grin had faded, but a hint of cockiness still flickered in the depths of his mahogany eyes.

“Get my suitcases down, please,” Eden retorted icily. “After that I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

“Anything to please a lady!” He swung toward the back of the truck, caught up Eden’s bags and briefcase, and piled them in the driveway. That done, he stood facing her, his broad-shouldered presence blocking out the almond moon where it floated above the jagged mountain skyline.

“And now will you hear me out?”

“As long as it’s not a lecture.” Eden braced her emotional barricades against his charm. One thing hadn’t changed since high school, she realized with a sinking heart. Travis Conroy still had the power to reduce her to a quivering lump of jelly.

But this time she would not let him do it. She wasn’t a palpitating teenager anymore. She was a grown woman with an independent life. And Travis was no longer her idol. He was a man, nothing more.

“I’m ready,” she said. “So, what was it you wanted to tell me?”

“Just this.” He caught her hand, trapping it like a bird in the curl of his hard-callused palm. “I know I sort of railroaded you into coming along, but I truly can’t say that I’m sorry. Thanks for being such a good sport. You’re a breath of fresh air, Eden Harper.”

Thrown off balance by his evident sincerity, Eden groped for a fitting reply. But before she could speak, he raised her hand to his lips and skimmed a courtly kiss across her knuckles.

“Good night, sweet princess,” he murmured, his eyes twinkling with rapier-edged humor, “and farewell.”

“Oh…” Eden sputtered, stung by the subtle mockery of his gesture. “Oh, you…”





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