Книга - Cowboy’s Special Woman

Cowboy's Special Woman
Sara Orwig


A fire on her ranch sent rodeo champ Jake Reiner blazing into Maggie Langford's life, disrupting her ordinary existence and igniting desires she thought were long gone.But the single mom's temperature reached the boiling point when the cowboy temporarily set up home with her - under her hospitalized father's orders. Jake was like a hot branding iron - Maggie knew she shouldn't touch him, but she couldn't resist the burning temptation his kisses kindled inside her.She knew the cold reality of loving a hot-blooded cowboy who itched for the open road. But maybe she was the special woman who could warm Jake's hardened heart and convince him to stay forever.












“We’re Not Going To Fall In Love,”


Jake said in a voice as warm and soft as melted butter. “I won’t break your heart—you won’t break mine.”

“You sound so sure of yourself,” Maggie said, annoyed by his confidence. She was aware of his hands on her waist, his closeness, the faint scent of his aftershave. Jake was a wanderer. If she didn’t want to risk falling in love with him, she should stay clear away from him. But his confidence made her feel suddenly reckless, and she slanted him a look, sliding her hand to the back of his neck.

“You’re so certain you won’t fall in love with me,” she said softly. “Maybe you should guard your heart.” She stood on tiptoe and placed her lips boldly on his. She saw the startled flicker in his dark eyes before she closed her eyes and poured her heart into the kiss.




Cowboy’s Special Woman

Sara Orwig










SARA ORWIG


lives with her husband and children in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere, from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara writes historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.


With thanks to my editors

Joan Marlow Golan and Julie Barrett




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue




One


There weren’t many things that could tie him in knots, but fire was one. Jake Reiner held his Harley with a white-knuckled grip and glanced over his shoulder at flames whipping through cedars and oaks. In spite of the hundred-degree August heat and blasts of hot Oklahoma wind, he was chilled by the sight of the fire. He knew he was racing along the dusty road at a dangerous speed, but he had to warn the ranch family who lived at the end of the lane.

In minutes he came roaring up from a dip in the road, took a curve and saw a tall two-story Victorian house ahead. Shade trees surrounded a three-car garage, a brown barn, a bunkhouse, sheds and a corral. A Circle A brand was burned in the wood above the barn door. Inside the fenced yard, a woman stepped around the thick trunk of a giant cottonwood tree. In her hand she held a power saw.

Jake’s gaze raked over a figure that made his pulse skip. Cutoffs hugged trim hips and revealed long, shapely legs. Stretching snugly over lush breasts, a T-shirt was tucked into the waistband of the cutoffs. His gaze swept up to her face as he approached. She looked wary. Long, golden hair was in a thick braid that hung down her back to her waist.

Barking a warning, a black-and-tan dog ran around the barn. The woman’s head snapped around and she spoke to the dog. Stopping beside her, it continued barking.

Jake slowed and braked, sending up a flurry of dust. As the engine idled, he braced his legs. Then he heard a child’s cries. Following the sound, he looked at the cottonwood. Perched on a lower limb was a small girl with a gash on her head and tears streaking her cheeks.

“Mommy!”

“Hold on, Katy,” the woman said calmly. Glaring at Jake, she snapped, “What do you want?”

“Can I help?” he asked, getting off the bike, realizing that, between the fire and whatever was happening here, this family had real trouble. At the moment, the child seemed the most urgent problem.

“Why are you here?” the woman asked, her cautious demeanor transforming to anger. As he watched sparks dancing in her blue eyes, he knew he didn’t give a reassuring appearance with his shaggy hair, his bike, and his ragged jeans.

“Up by the road your place is on fire.”

While her gaze flew past him, the color drained from her face.

“Not now!” she gasped and looked up at the child. “I have to get Katy free first.” She turned away as if she had already forgotten his presence.

Moving closer to the tree and forgetting the stranger, Maggie Langford fought a rising panic. Katy was caught and hurting, and now their place was on fire. A really bad fire would devastate them. She said a small prayer that she could free Katy’s foot, which was wedged between a limb and the trunk. As Maggie raised the heavy saw, a hand closed around her wrist and the stranger took the saw from her.

For a split second, with the physical contact, an electric current of awareness zipped through her. When the stranger stepped closer, Katy let out a howl.

“I’ll just cut a little more, and then I can break that limb free. You get up there and hold her so she doesn’t fall,” he said in a deep voice.

“Hang on, Katy, I’m coming up beside you,” Maggie said, trying to calm her child.

“This is my little tomboy,” she told the stranger. “Katy was climbing and fell. Shh, Katy. It’ll be all right. You’ll be loose soon,” Maggie said.

“Have to watch these trees. They’ll just reach out and grab you,” the stranger said to Katy with a reassuring smile that softened his rugged features.

Through tears and the streaks of blood from the head wound, Katy smiled in return.

Maggie caught a limb and pulled herself up, taking hold of her five-year-old. Katy twisted to cling to her.

Maggie looked down at the tall, deeply tanned man. His shaggy black hair hung below the red bandanna wound around his head. He wore a black T-shirt with the sleeves ripped away, and thick muscles flexed as he sawed the limb. The loud buzz of the saw was the only sound until he stopped, set down the saw and glanced up at her with his dark eyes.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “Hang on to me, Katy,” she said, holding her daughter.

The stranger jumped up, grasped the limb and hung on it. With a sharp crack the limb split from the tree, freeing Katy’s foot. As agile as a cat, the stranger landed on his feet and tossed the limb aside.

Katy’s arms tightened around Maggie’s neck, and Maggie held her tightly in return, relieved to have her daughter safe again. Then the stranger reached up. “Hand her to me.”

Maggie passed her daughter down. The stranger set her gently on the ground and Katy rubbed her ankle and sniffed. Maggie swung her legs over the limb to jump down. As she jumped, hands came around her waist and the stranger caught her. Without thought she put her hands out to grip his arms, feeling the rock-solid muscles, looking into brown eyes that bored into her with an electrifying intensity. The instant her hands had closed on his arms, a current had raced through her. Unable to breathe or look away, she stared back at him while her heart hammered. He smelled faintly of sweat and aftershave. The aftershave surprised her. He looked primitive rather than civilized, yet she knew she was rushing to judge too swiftly.

He lowered her to the ground and for seconds she was still caught and held in his compelling gaze.

“Mommy.”

Her daughter’s voice released her from the spell, and Maggie stepped back, dropping her hands to her sides. “Thanks again, mister. I have to call 911 and alert them about the fire.”

She knelt beside her daughter. “Let me see your ankle, Katy.” She was aware that the stranger watched while she checked Katy’s bruised and scratched ankle. She moved her daughter’s foot gently. “That hurt?”

“No.”

“Katy, you should thank the man,” Maggie said as she stood.

“Thank you, sir,” Katy said politely, sniffing and rubbing her ankle as she tried to stand. Maggie swung her up into her arms.

“My name is Jake Reiner,” the stranger said in a voice that stirred a curl of warmth in Maggie. Once more she was riveted by his gaze. With an effort she broke away, turning toward the house. She waved her hand toward the barn. “There’s a spigot. You might like a cold drink. I’ve got a fire to fight. Thanks for alerting me about it. C’mon, Tuffy,” she commanded, and the dog trotted at her heels.

She shifted the child and headed for the house as Jake watched, fascinated. Her hips swayed slightly and her cutoffs were short enough to give him a delectable view of long legs. He stood staring at her until the screen door slapped shut behind her.

When he glanced back up the lane to the southwest, Jake saw a plume of gray smoke rising over the treetops, the high wind swirling it away. This ranch family was in deep trouble.

Between the garage and the barn, Jake spotted the faucet and strolled toward it. When he passed the garage and glanced inside, he saw a pickup and a battered flatbed truck that had once been black but had lost most of its paint. Turning the spigot, he splashed cold water over his head. As he ran his fingers through his hair, he looked into the barn that stood open to his left. The barn was filled with a clutter of tack and large trunks. He glanced from the barn to his bike, which held most of his worldly possessions. At least with his wandering lifestyle, he didn’t have to mend, repair or care for a lot of things. He bent to take another long drink and splash more water on himself. As he straightened, a pickup barreled up the road and rocked to a stop, sending up a thick plume of red dust. A brown-haired woman jumped out and glanced at Jake.

“Is Maggie inside?” she asked as she ran around the pickup.

When he nodded, she moved faster, sprinting to the house and reaching for the screen door without knocking. In seconds the blonde appeared, unhooked the screen, which Jake assumed had been secured because of his presence. The brunette stepped inside while the blonde came out. He saw the brunette hook the screen and look at him a moment, but then his gaze shifted to the blonde. She hurried toward him, her breasts bouncing with each step.

“Have to get to the fire,” she said as she passed him and headed into the garage.

In its dim interior she grabbed a shovel and tossed it into the bed of a pickup where it landed with a clang.

Jake moved into the garage, feeling the coolness when he stepped out of the sunlight. “Can I help?”

“Grab those gunnysacks, wet them down and throw them in the pickup,” she ordered while she ran toward the barn. He spotted empty gunnysacks hanging on a hook. Lifting them down, he carried them to the faucet. As soon as they were soaked, he tossed them into the back of the pickup. She threw more shovels into the back.

“Thanks, again, mister.”

“Sure,” he said, opening the pickup door for her. “And you can call me Jake,” he added.

She gave him a quick nod. With another flash of her long legs, she climbed inside. In spite of the fire, the rancher who lived here was a lucky man with a pretty wife and a cute little daughter. Jake was surprised at his sentiments. He valued his freedom enough that he didn’t usually view anyone who was married and settled as lucky. He closed the pickup door and turned to go to his bike.

As the pickup raced past him, he waited, letting the dust settle before he followed.

Overhead a gray cloud of smoke spread in the sky and his sympathy for her increased. The south wind was blowing the fire north toward her house. He rounded a bend and smoke rolled over the road, engulfing him. As he drove through it, he held his breath. When the world became a dense gray blur that stung his eyes and burned his throat, panic threatened. He knew the rule: don’t drive into smoke. But he had driven into it and now he had to keep going. He could feel the heat of the fire and hear its roar. Then, as he reached the backside of the smoke and fire, he could see again.

Gulping fresh air, he was stunned by the magnitude of the fire that raged out of control, stretching across the land with acres of burning trees and grass. Cars lined the county road as men worked to beat out the flames. Someone had parked a flatbed truck near the firefighters and in the back of the truck were three large orange coolers and a stack of paper cups. Jake wondered how all these people had learned about the fire so quickly, but he assumed word spread fast and neighbors rushed to help out.

Two pumper trucks were driving along the perimeter of the fire, the firemen pouring gushing silver streams of water on the line of flames, but the strong wind was fanning the fire furiously and their effort seemed futile. Accentuated by pops and crackles, the blaze roared while heat waves shimmered in the hot summer air.

Jake spotted the blonde, already in the line of men fighting the fire with shovels and gunnysacks. She was working as hard as any man around her, swinging a gunnysack and beating flames. While dread and sorrow tore at him, Jake parked in the line of pickups.

Jogging back up the road, he spotted a shovel in the bed of a pickup. Grabbing the shovel, Jake fell into line with the volunteers, moving to the edge of the fire to try to smother the bright orange flames while heat buffeted him.

As he inhaled the stinging smoke, his mind jumped back in time. Hating the tormenting memories of that long-ago fire, he dug with fury.

In the flickering orange, he saw himself as a boy, running and looking at a glow in the sky. Deep in the black hours of early morning, coming home across backyards, he had seen pink light the night sky. As he drew nearer to it, the first fear gripped him and then he was racing, bursting around the corner and tearing across the street toward his home that was a roaring blaze lighting up the entire block.

While the raging inferno consumed his house, he tried to run inside and firemen held him back. Over his yelling, he finally heard their shouts. How long did it take him to realize they were telling him his family was dead? Still, all these years later, a knot tightened in Jake’s throat. He hated his vulnerability, and thought he had succeeded in keeping his feelings tightly locked away, yet this burning wall of flame brought the horror and hurt back. With the fire dancing in front of him, its flames taunting him, the years vanished and the pain he had felt that night consumed him. Tears streaked his cheeks. Harder and faster he dug as if physical labor could erase the aching memories and the screaming guilt.

A man passed him. “Ease up, son. If you don’t slow, we’ll be carrying you away. I’m taking water to everyone.”

Facing Jake was a tall, brown-haired man in ragged overalls. He held a water cooler and a tin cup.

“You’re Jake Reiner, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. Thanks.” Jake filled the cup and drank, not caring that it was a communal cup.

“I’m Ben Alden. I’ve seen you ride.”

“Thanks for the water,” Jake said, returning the cup. The man nodded and moved down the line. Jake glanced along the row and saw the blonde talking to the man. She turned back to fight the fire.

Soon it seemed as if he had been fighting fire for hours. As sweat poured off his body, smoke burned his eyes and throat. Around him men yelled, and he could hear the rumble of the pumper trucks over the crackle and roar of the fire.

With his muscles screaming, Jake looked around and saw the blonde talking to Ben Alden again, the man who had carried the water around earlier. The man had his big, work-reddened hands on her shoulders.

Watching the man touch her possessively, Jake had an uncustomary annoyance and couldn’t understand his reaction. He didn’t even know the woman’s name and would never see her again after this morning, but he wished he could push Ben Alden’s hands off of her shoulders. Alden was probably her husband. Jake stared at the tall, rawboned man who was much older than she was. His brown hair was streaked with gray. He was solid muscle on big bones. He wore a T-shirt beneath coveralls. Then Jake noticed their profiles, the same straight noses and broad foreheads and he wondered if the man was her father.

Taking a deep breath, Jake returned to digging, throwing dirt on the fire, watching the flames spread with each gust of wind. Now three pumper trucks were working along the backside of the fire, but in spite of everyone’s efforts, they weren’t bringing the blaze under control. Long ago Jake had shed his shirt and sweat poured off his body. He thought of ice and longed for a cold shower and a cold drink.

The ranch house and other buildings were in view now. Choking and coughing, he felt on fire. His hands were raw, and he had to stop for water. He headed toward the flatbed truck with the water coolers, reaching first to pour a bucket of water over himself.

He spotted the blonde, still struggling to swing a gunnysack and he suspected she must be about to drop from the exertion. He picked up a paper cup and the cooler and walked over to her, catching her arm.

She turned, her face smudged with soot. Her T-shirt was plastered to her body from perspiration. Wordlessly he filled the cup and held it out to her. She looked dazed, and he took her arm to lead her to the pickup.

With shaking hands, she grasped the cup and gulped the water. “Thanks,” she said, staring at him while he tilted the cooler and refilled her cup.

“Maybe you should go up to your house and get your little girl out of there and save what you can.”

“Shortly after I left, my sister Patsy took Katy and Tuffy, our dog, to her house. She packed some of Katy’s things.” Maggie looked at the fire. “I’m needed more here.”

“We’re not going to stop it,” Jake said. “Go save some of your clothes and furniture. I’ll drive you up there and help. Come on. None of us can stop this inferno unless it rains or the wind changes and those possibilities look unlikely.”

When he took her arm, she hesitated. “Come on,” he urged. In silence she walked with him. “Which pickup is yours?” he asked.

She stared at him blankly and then looked around, pointing to a black pickup parked in a line of pickups. “Keys,” he said, holding out his hand.

“I can drive.”

“Give me the keys. You can catch your breath.”

As she handed over the keys, they walked to the pickup. He drove through a wall of smoke again until they were beyond it.

“Our house,” she said softly as they approached her home. “My grandfather built this house.”

“Was that your husband you were talking to?”

“No.” Her head swung around and she looked at him for a moment as if she had to think back to remember. “He’s my father. My husband and I are divorced.”

“Sorry.”

“I came back home last year to live with my dad when my mother died.”

“I don’t know your name.”

“Maggie Langford.”

“I met your dad when he brought me some water. He’s Ben Alden,” he said and she nodded. Jake pulled to a stop by the back door and climbed out. She was already out and sprinting for the back door.

“Anything in particular I can get for you?”

“Yes. If we can save it, there’s some furniture that has been handed down through the generations.”

When he followed her inside, all her dazed manner vanished as she began to briskly issue orders.

As he secured the last bit of a second load of scrapbooks, clothing and furniture, Jake glanced over his shoulder and his stomach knotted at the proximity of the blaze. The house, barn and all outbuildings seemed doomed. He heard an engine and when he looked around, the three pumper trucks came down the lane, and her father drove a tractor along the side of the road. Firemen spilled from the trucks and ran to the house with fire retardant blankets to toss over the furniture. In minutes Ben Alden plowed a broad swath on the south side of the house, and then he crossed the road to plow west of the barn and around the other structures.

“You get this pickup out of harm’s way. I’ll stay and help here,” Jake said.

“I want to get some saddles from the barn,” she answered. “Thank heaven the horses are out of there!” Jake jogged beside her as she trotted to the barn. When she stopped inside, her brow furrowed. “Dad’s stuff…” As her voice trailed away, she looked stricken.

“What do you want out of the barn?” Jake said briskly, knowing they were running out of time. Crackling and roaring, the fire was much closer. The wind was as high as ever and sparks constantly were caught in gusts, flying away to start new blazes.

“Everything,” she said quietly. She gave a small shake of her shoulders. “Those saddles,” she said, pointing, and Jake ran to get what she asked for. He carried out three saddles and put them in the pickup.

In minutes the blaze approached the barn.

“Get the pickup out of here,” Jake shouted to her. “If you don’t, you’ll lose everything and the pickup, too.”

She climbed in and was gone as more men came into view. Jake heard a shout and saw a fireman pointing. He turned and saw the first lick of flame curling on the barn roof. Jake swore, grabbing up a shovel.

Creating a barrier, the drive cut through between the house to the east and the barn, the garage, the bunkhouse and the sheds to the west, so firemen moved to widen the swath of wet, plowed ground between the barn and the house to try to save the house. Maggie’s father plowed furrows, riding in widening strips while everyone battled the blaze.

When Jake spotted Maggie back with the firefighters, he worked his way toward her. “You could still get another carload of your belongings out of the house if you want. I’ll help.”

She shook her head. “No, we’ll try to save the house. I’d rather—”

“Maggie, did you get the trunks out of the barn?” her father called, driving the tractor up beside them. Jake glanced at the barn and saw the whole building was burning now.

“No, I got the saddles.”

“I’m getting them,” her father said, sprinting toward the barn.

“Dad!” Maggie started after him, but Jake grabbed her arm.

“I’ll go,” he said and raced after her father who had already disappeared inside the barn.

Jake yanked down his bandanna and tied it over his nose. As he ran inside he put an arm up to shield his face, trying to hold his breath and not inhale the thick smoke. All around him, fire roared and he couldn’t see through the smoke.

Then a figure loomed up before him. “Take this,” Maggie’s father shouted and thrust a small trunk at Jake.

“Sir, this building is going to go!”

“Get out!”

Sprinting outside, Jake set down the trunk and ran back toward the burning barn. He spotted a dark silhouette of a man only a few yards inside, but before he reached the open door, he heard a crack like a shotgun blast. A large beam fell.

The beam struck Ben Alden, knocking him down only a few feet from the door.




Two


Running toward the burning barn, Maggie screamed.

“I’ll get him,” Jake shouted. “You stay out.”

Crouching to avoid smoke as much as possible, Jake raced inside. He groped his way until he spotted the figure lying in front of him, a burning beam across his legs. Without hesitation Jake grabbed the beam and shoved it away. He hoisted Maggie’s father over his shoulder, moving blindly and praying he was headed toward the door and not deeper into the barn.

As he burst through smoke and into fresh air, he staggered and lowered her father carefully to the ground. While Jake yanked away the bandanna and gulped fresh air, Maggie knelt beside her dad.

“This man needs help,” Jake yelled to one of the firefighters who ran toward them.

“Dad! I’ve called an ambulance.”

“Are you all right?” a fireman asked Jake.

“Yeah,” he nodded, coughing and still trying to get fresh air into his lungs. He moved back to allow two firemen to help her father.

Maggie thrust a bucket of water into Jake’s hands and he poured it over himself, cold water drenching him, a momentary relief from the smoke and heat. “Thank you,” she said, earnest blue eyes gazing at him. Her face was smudged with soot and her blond hair had come loose from the braid so that long strands fell freely around her face.

“Sure,” he said and then she was gone, back kneeling beside her father while the firemen hovered over him.

With a rumble and a crack, the entire roof of the barn fell, sending flames and sparks shooting high overhead. Firefighters yelled as they worked frantically to keep the flames away from the house. Jake walked to a truck and poured a cup of water, gulping it, aware of hurting and stinging in a dozen different places. His hands felt like raw meat. Wind swirled against him and he lifted his head, realizing that it had shifted slightly.

When he went back to join the firefighters, he heard men talking about the wind, but conversation wasn’t needed to tell him the wind was shifting. So far the flames had not crossed the road or flown over the swath of plowed dirt.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw an ambulance with flashing lights. Jake guessed they were getting Maggie’s father into the ambulance. He hoped Ben Alden recovered.

The wind shifted, giving renewed energy to Jake to battle the blaze that was now turning back on itself.

In another hour they had the blaze under control and the professionals took over to finish the work. On blackened ground lay the smoldering ruins of the barn, the garage and the other outbuildings. Everything was destroyed except the house.

“I think you should let a doctor look at your burns.”

When he turned, Maggie stood only a few feet away. She had cleaned up and changed clothes. Now in jeans and a blue shirt, she looked cool and as sexy as ever. She had combed her hair and it hung in a thick braid over her shoulder.

“I’m all right.”

“You don’t look all right. I’m going to the hospital to see about my dad. Come with me to the emergency and someone will treat your burns.”

Half of him wanted to get on his bike and go. The other half was drawn to her soft voice and big blue eyes and the sense that she really cared.

“Sure,” he answered, feeling he was making a mistake, yet unable to resist hanging around her a little longer. “I need to move my bike from the road.”

“I’ll take you to get it.” When she jerked her head, he saw she had brought her pickup back to the house. It was still loaded with her belongings.

“If you’d like, I can help you unload first.”

She shook her head. “I want to get to town to see my dad.”

They walked in silence to the pickup, and he climbed into the passenger side. Sliding behind the wheel, Maggie started the motor. In a few minutes she dropped him off at his bike, turned around and drove back to the house with him trailing behind.

Jake parked his bike, yanked on his black T-shirt and climbed into the pickup. “Want me to drive?”

“No,” Maggie answered with amusement. “I’m accustomed to doing things for myself. And your hands look as if it would be painful to drive.”

“I don’t mind.” As they drove away, he glanced out the window. “At least your house is saved.”

“Thank heavens! It’s bad enough to lose everything else, but our house would have been so much worse. I’ve been working to turn our home into a bed-and-breakfast. I’d hate to see all my efforts plus our belongings go up in flames like the barn did.”

“Aren’t you a little far out from any town for a bed-and-breakfast?”

As she shrugged, he shifted slightly in the seat, turning to study her, looking at flawless skin that he knew would be soft.

“I think some city people will enjoy a ranch experience and I can run the bed-and-breakfast while my dad runs the ranch. I’m going to give it a try. We have a big house, and I think I’ll succeed.”

“Have you always lived here?”

“Except for the two years while I was married. When I went to college, I lived at home and commuted. Where do you live?”

“First one place and then another,” he answered. When she glanced at him, he suspected she didn’t approve of his vagabond lifestyle.

“Dad said he’s seen you in rodeos.”

“I’m a saddle bronc rider.”

“Dad used to do calf roping, but that was a long time ago. His health isn’t as good as it used to be.”

“Too bad. This fire is another burden.”

“Thanks for stopping to warn us. It would have been worse if you hadn’t.”

“I don’t know. No one could contain it until the wind changed.” Jake continued to study her, wondering about her and her life. She was a beautiful woman, and he couldn’t imagine her living like she did. “Don’t you feel buried out here on your ranch?”

“Buried?”

“Seems like a quiet life.”

She flashed him a smile, the first he had received, and it made his pulse jump. She had a dimple in her right cheek and the smile showed in her eyes, animating her face in a quick, enticing flash like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

“It’s a quiet life, and I love it that way. Where’s your home now?”

“On my bike.”

He received a startled glance and grinned at her. “I don’t like a quiet life. I travel.”

“Do you work or am I prying?”

“Pry away. I do bronc riding and I train horses. I just quit a job working with horses for a friend of mine near Fort Worth. After a while I get restless and I move on.”

“Where’s your family?”

“I don’t have any.”

“You had to have parents.”

“They were killed in a fire,” he answered, looking out the window and clenching his fists. He had told few people in his adult life about his family and he wondered why he had just told her.

She gave him a searching glance and then returned her attention to the road. “That’s why you fought our fire so hard,” she said quietly. “Dad and I wondered.”

“Why would you wonder? Everyone out there fought hard.”

“Not the way you did. You went after it like you wanted to put it out single-handedly.” She gave him another searching glance.

“Is your little girl in school?” he asked, not caring about her answer, but wanting to get the conversation away from him and his family and fires.

“Not yet. Katy was just five last week. She’ll be in kindergarten when the fall term starts.

“Where did you meet your husband?”

“Bart grew up here and we’d known each other forever. I think we married too young—too young for him, at least, and he didn’t like being tied down. Particularly when Katy was born. He was here only a short time after her birth and then he was gone. Just like that, and Katy was without a father. Bart asked for the divorce.”

“You can marry again,” Jake said, thinking she could if she got off the ranch and met people. “You’re young.”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

“That’s young. I’m thirty-five.”

“I won’t marry again anytime soon,” she replied after a moment’s thought as if she hadn’t considered the possibility before. He looked at her golden hair that looked soft as silk and wondered about her.

“So what are you really like, Maggie Langford? Is it Margaret?”

“It’s Margaret and I’m really like the person I am right now. I love home and family.”

He had already guessed that from watching her during the day. He became silent, glancing at her occasionally, amazed someone else hadn’t come along and married her and surprised she sounded so happy about her life on the farm.

Taking the highway, they drove into Stillwater, and uneasiness stirred in Jake. He should have hit the road instead of going into town with her. He didn’t particularly want to go to the hospital. A shower and a pitcher of ice cold water would make him feel one hundred percent better. He caught a whiff of her perfume, a flower scent that went with her fresh ranch manner, and the enticing, feminine smell drove away all thoughts of leaving. He turned to watch her and found it a very pleasant pastime that made him forget his aches and his hurry to be on his way. What was it about her that drew him? And that first moment they had touched—in her clear, blue eyes he had seen that she had felt something, too.

When they reached the hospital, she told Jake to join her when he was released and then she went to see her father. Jake went to the emergency where a vivacious black-haired nurse treated his cuts and burns.

“You’re new around here,” she said and for the first time he really noticed her. Her big brown eyes gazed steadily at him while she cleaned a cut.

“Yep. I was driving past and saw the fire and stopped to tell the Aldens.”

“Are you staying awhile?”

He glanced at her name tag and saw it was Laurie. “I haven’t decided, Laurie. Anything worth staying for?” he asked, unable to resist flirting with her. She gave him a smile.

“We have all sorts of places: bars, honky-tonks, my apartment.”

He laughed and looked at her fingers. No wedding or engagement ring. Evidently he could have a date if he wanted one. He thought of Maggie Langford and the thought of asking Laurie out vanished. He shifted restlessly, wishing again that he had his bike with him.

“Sounds interesting,” he said, looking at her full lips and still thinking about Maggie. “Do you know if there is anyone around here now who might be going back by Ben Alden’s place? I rode in with Maggie, but if I can find a ride, I won’t trouble her for a ride home. My bike is at her place.”

Laurie moved close against his knees and tilted his chin up to work on a cut on his temple. She paused and looked into his eyes. “If you can wait until I get off, I can take you to the Circle A ranch to get your bike,” she said in a sultry voice.

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll return later and take you up on that offer, but I need to get going. The fire delayed me today.”

She smiled and nodded, and he didn’t know if he had softened his refusal enough to keep from hurting her feelings, but he didn’t want to take her out. He didn’t want to think about why because it had been a long time since he’d had a date with a woman who was fun and pretty. He was ready for a night out, but this wasn’t the night.

“I don’t know who can take you back. You might ask if Jeff Peterson is still here. He lives out past the Alden place.”

“Thanks.”

Ten minutes later, Jake asked at the front desk if anyone named Peterson was still around and was told that Jeff Peterson had left the hospital about five minutes earlier. Jake’s only choices were to hitch a ride, wait for Maggie to go home or have a date with Laurie.

He asked for Ben Alden’s room and rode the elevator upstairs. When he rapped lightly on the partially closed door and thrust his head into the room, Ben motioned to him. “Come in. I want to thank you. You saved my life.” Ben was bandaged and propped up in bed.

Jake shrugged. “Sorry you got hurt and sorry so much of your place burned.” Maggie stood across the room from him on the opposite side of her father’s bed.

As Jake entered the room, Maggie watched him. He was broad-shouldered, muscular and his presence seemed to electrify the air. There was an earthy sensuality to him, yet she wondered if she thought that because he was in a tight T-shirt, covered with soot, cut and burned instead of dressed in freshly laundered clothes, looking like most other people. She suspected in freshly laundered clothes, he would never look like most other people. His height, rugged features and wild black hair would keep him from blending into a crowd. It was his riveting brown eyes that disturbed her the most. Her gaze slid down over his slim hips. His jeans rode low. She looked up, caught him watching her and blushed at the manner in which she had been studying him.

She was too conscious of his hot-blooded looks, his blunt questions. She tried to shift her thoughts, telling herself he would be out of her life as soon as she took him home tonight. He was going to set off on his bike and she wouldn’t ever see him again.

“We’ll build back,” her father answered Jake. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling?” Jake asked.

“Pretty good, considering,” Ben answered, smiling ruefully and raising bandaged hands.

“Pretty good with burns and a broken leg,” Maggie remarked dryly. “But you really did save him from being hurt much worse.”

“That’s good. I’m sorry about your injuries.”

“I’ll mend. I’ve mended before. Maggie tells me you’ve been working with horses.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve been in Texas, working for Jeb Stuart. I’ll be in a rodeo in Oklahoma City Labor Day weekend, so I wound my work up with Jeb and hit the road. I was just driving past your place when I saw the fire.”

“I thought Jeb Stuart was your biggest rival in saddle bronc riding.”

“He is, but he’s also my best friend,” Jake replied.

“Where are you going from here—except for the rodeo?”

“Dad, maybe that’s private,” Maggie said, glancing at Jake.

He smiled at her, holding her gaze while he answered. “No, not private at all. I don’t have any plans. Just whatever comes along.”

“Good. I’m laid up here and will be when I get home. How about coming to work for us until I get on my feet? I need someone badly.”

Shocked, Maggie’s head whipped around as she stared at her father. They hadn’t discussed hiring Jake Reiner or anyone else. When Jake frowned, she guessed that he didn’t want to work for them and relief washed over her. Astounded her father would ask him without consulting her, she wondered if her father was thinking clearly or if the pain pills had muddled his thought processes. Their small bunkhouse for hired help had burned so they had no place for a hired hand to live—not even in the barn. Jake Reiner would have to stay in the house with them. Actually he would be alone in the house with her because Katy was at Patsy’s and her father wouldn’t be coming home for another day.

“I know you’ve been more than a help to us so far. A life saver, really, but I can’t take care of things for a little while. If you could just stay at the Circle A and work until I’m able to get back to it, I’d make it worth your while. You’ve got to eat, sleep and work somewhere,” he added.

Jake Reiner took a deep breath.

“Dad, Jake probably already had plans.”

Her father turned his head to look at her. “Honey, I worry about you and I know I should be home taking care of things. Jake just left a job and he said he’s free. We need him sort of on the desperate side.” He looked at Jake. “We usually have four or five men working for us, but for one reason or another, we don’t have any now. I promise to make working for us worthwhile for you,” he repeated.

She looked into Jake’s eyes and knew he didn’t want to stay. Why didn’t he just say so and go!

“Dad—”

He waved his hand. “Let the man get a word in, Maggie. I’ll only be laid up for a short time and if it gets too long for you, Jake,” he said, turning his attention back to Jake, “we’ll find a replacement for you. In the meantime, I could sure use your help.”

Jake was still gazing into Maggie’s eyes. Looking into his dark, inscrutable gaze, she held her breath.

“Yes, sir,” he said quietly.

She closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. What had her father done? She was sure he wasn’t thinking clearly. They would need help, but they could find someone who lived in the area and had a house or room they could go back to every night. What was she going to do with Jake Reiner?

“Thanks, Jake,” Ben said, closing his eyes. “I can’t tell you how relieved that makes me feel. Now I can just worry about rebuilding.”

“Dad, just think about getting well,” Maggie said. “I’m staying tonight at the hospital so—”

“No, you’re not. I want a quiet night’s sleep,” her father interjected, “and Imogene is the night nurse. You know she’ll take good care of me,” he added and chuckled.

Maggie knew she wouldn’t be needed at the hospital. For the past two years, Imogene Randle had wanted to marry her father. Now, here at the hospital, Imogene had him in her clutches, and Maggie was sure Imogene would be in his room constantly. The past twenty minutes were the longest she had been out of his room since Maggie arrived. Maggie looked at Jake again and met another curious stare. She was going to have to take him home with her and let him stay there.

Her stomach fluttered at the thought. He disturbed her and he was a stranger even though her father knew him from rodeos. Just because the guy won big belt buckles and had lots of money didn’t make him safe to take into their house.

She rubbed her earlobe nervously and tried to think what she could do to change the situation. She looked at her father who was breathing deeply with his eyes closed.

“He’s asleep. And he’s right about Imogene. She’ll check on him constantly so I guess we might as well go.” Dazed by the swift turn of events, Maggie picked up her purse. “Are you ready to go home?”

The words had a strange ring to them. She knew this wasn’t an ordinary man and taking him home with her was not like taking the next half dozen strangers home.

Was she really scared of him or was she scared of her own reactions to him? she wondered.

He nodded and turned to hold the door for her. Neither of them said a word as they rode down in the elevator and headed for her pickup. All the time in her mind, she kept running through the names of every hired hand they’d had or anyone else she could think of she could hire in place of Jake. Surely there was someone, and Jake had looked as if he would jump at the chance to go. Why had he let her father talk him into this?

“I know you don’t want to do this. I’m sure I can find someone else,” she said as she drove out of the hospital lot.

He twisted in the seat to look at her. They were still in the glow of town lights and she could see him well enough to see the flare of amusement in his eyes.

“You don’t want me to work for you, do you?”

“I don’t know you.”

“Look, if you don’t want me there, I’ll go.”

She shot him a look and then thought about her father. “Let me see if I can hire someone else. You really don’t want to work for us, do you?”

“No. It’s nothing personal. I had planned to take off work for a short time and travel, but your father needs help. More than you can give him if you’re doing the cooking and taking care of your little girl. You see who you can hire. In the meantime, don’t worry. I’m a safe, trustworthy person. If you’d like, you can call Jeb Stuart and get references. When we get to your house, I’ll give you his number.”

“Thanks. It just makes me nervous for you to move into our house when I don’t know you,” she admitted.

He shrugged. “It’s summer. I saw a hammock in your yard—I can sleep there.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Nope.”

She nodded and was silent and wondered what was running through his mind and if he thought that she was the silliest female he had ever encountered. He hadn’t wanted to stay and work for them, yet why was he so reluctant to stay? She would call Jeb Stuart when they got home.

“When will your daughter come home?”

“I’ll pick her up in the morning. I have two married sisters who live in town. They have kids, too, and all the little cousins are close.”

“Nice big family,” he said glancing around. “Are there any restaurants between here and your house? It just dawned on me and my stomach that I haven’t eaten since last night.”

“Sorry. There isn’t anything unless we turn around and go back to town, but I have leftovers at home.”

“That’s good enough. I’d like to take a shower.”

“Of course. I’m sorry about your staying in our house—”

“Forget it,” he said.

They lapsed into silence again with the rumble of the pickup’s engine the only noise. Jake stared into the dark night and felt caught in a trap. The father wanted him to stay, the daughter wanted him to go. And he wanted to go, dammit! Yet when he looked into the old man’s eyes and then into hers, out had come an acceptance. He was getting himself tied down when he didn’t want to be, in a place he didn’t want to be. He was drawn to Maggie Langford and that alone made him uneasy. Most women he met were like the nurse in the emergency—flirtatious, fun and someone he could take or leave. And he always left them.

A broken leg took weeks to mend. Jake had had enough breaks to know. He didn’t want to work at Maggie’s ranch for weeks. And she sure as hell didn’t want him to. If looks could send him flying to Mars, he would be on his way now.

He didn’t mind sleeping out in the yard in the hammock. It would probably be cool and comfortable, but it was ridiculous. If he intended to harm her, staying in the yard wouldn’t stop him. He was going home to eat with her and shower in her house. He glanced at her again. She was definitely easy to look at. He liked her better in shorts and a T-shirt.

They drove up to the darkened house, and she cut the engine. When he started to get out, he saw her staring at their burned field and the ruins of the garage and the barn.

“Sorry,” he said, understanding too well her sense of loss and sobered by the sight of the blackened land that brought back ugly memories for him.

“It happened so fast and took so much. It’ll take a long time to get things back to the way they were. Dad was after a trunk of old things that had been his father’s.”

“That’s not as important as his life.”

“I know, but he was upset and wanted to save it. I should have had you help me get those trunks out before I ever left the house the first time.”

“You did the best you could.”

She turned to look at him. “It’s been a long day. Sorry if I’m less than hospitable. You’ve been good to us.”

He shrugged. “Forget it.” He stepped out and came around to open her door as she opened it. He held it for her and closed it. Getting some fresh clothes from his bike, he caught up with her and walked with her through the gate where she stopped abruptly.

“Oh, my!” Following her gaze, he looked at her family belongings that he had helped her move out of the house earlier. “Our friends must have moved everything back up here in front of the house.”

“Where’d you put all this when you left here?”

“Across the road from the fire and friends saw me and helped unload the pickup each time. I thought I’d go back and get it tomorrow.”

“I’ll move it inside for you.”

“Thanks, but not now. I’m exhausted and no rain is predicted for the rest of the week. We’ll do that tomorrow.”

“Sure,” he said easily as they went inside. She switched on lights in a kitchen that had high ceilings and glass-fronted cabinets. Some appliances were new, and the place looked comfortable with plants, a large walnut table and yellow chintz-covered cushions.

“Do you mind giving me Jeb Stuart’s phone number?” she asked. His gaze drifted down to her full lips and he wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Forget it, he told himself. The lady is definitely off-limits. Yet what was it about her that made him think of long, wet kisses and hot nights? She was Mom and apple pie, wholesome, uninterested in men at this point in her life. He shouldn’t give her a second glance or thought. But something happened every time he was around her or she looked at him, something that started his pulse racing. He wondered if the smoke and fire had done something to his senses. If it had, it would be a far less disturbing discovery than to know she could have that effect on him by doing nothing more than looking up at him with those big blue eyes.

When she handed him a pen and a tablet, his fingers brushed hers. He was instantly aware of their fingers touching. Fingers. Nothing except the most casual contact. Except there was nothing casual about the effect on his system. What was it about her?

At the hospital the nurse had blatantly rubbed against him, hip against leg, her body against his shoulder, her soft breast pressing against his back and none of her contacts had done to him what the slightest brush of his fingers against Maggie’s did. Amazement warred with fear in him. No woman had ever caused such an intense reaction. He didn’t want this one to.

He scribbled Jeb’s number and gave the pen and tablet back.

“C’mon. I’ll show you where the bathroom is and where the towels are.”

Entranced by the slight sway of her hips and the faint scent of her perfume, he walked behind her through a wide hallway. Large, high-ceilinged rooms were on either side of the hallway. With paneling and beams and mahogany trim, the rooms looked livable and comfortable. The decor was chintz, patterned material and lace. Antiques sat on shelves and tables while pictures decorated the walls. The house held a cozy charm, and he could easily imagine her living in it.

“Your home is nice. This was built by your grandfather?”

“Yes, and then he married grandmother and added on to the house. When it passed to Dad, he built the family room, a bath and another bedroom. I love the old house. I’ve redecorated a lot of it, getting it ready to be a bed-and-breakfast.”

She turned and walked down the hall and he moved beside her. “You’ll have strangers in your house when you have a bed-and-breakfast.”

“That’ll be different,” she said, then bit her lip and her cheeks flushed, and his curiosity soared about her answer.

“How’ll it be different?”

The pink in her cheeks deepened. “Dad will be home then.”

“He might not be here every night. And your daughter might be gone, too. I don’t think that’s what you meant when you said it would be different, Maggie,” he drawled softly, taking her arm lightly. “How’ll it be different?”

He was aware of touching her, holding her arm so lightly because he didn’t want to frighten her. And he knew he was treading dangerous ground with his persistent question, yet he couldn’t resist. Sparks flew between them that kept the air and his blood sizzling. He wanted to kiss her and he wanted to hear the answer to his question.

She looked up at him, wide-eyed, but in the depths of her eyes was something else, something age-old, a look from a woman to a man, and his pulse jumped.

“You probably have this effect on every woman,” she said so quietly he had to lean closer to hear her.

“What effect?” he asked, with his voice getting husky.

She gave a toss of her head and sparks glittered in the depths of her eyes. “You know good and well what effect you have!” She turned and waved her hand toward an open bedroom decorated in blue. “You can have that bedroom to change in. There’s a bathroom connected to it and there are towels and wash cloths in the bathroom cabinet. Help yourself. I’ll be downstairs.” Her words were rushed together.

If he wasn’t filthy, sweaty, burned and blistered from the fire he would have pursued their conversation, but right now he wanted a shower before he got one inch closer to her and delved into her remarks that set his heart racing.

She hurried to the stairs and turned to look at him. “Would you like a salad and cold chicken and a baked potato?”

“That sounds great. I’ll be down soon.”

She nodded and disappeared and he wiped his hot brow as he turned to enter a large bedroom with a bright blue-and-white quilt on the brass bed. In minutes he was in the shower and he wondered if she was talking to Jeb for a reference.

Downstairs, Maggie doodled on the pad while she listened to Jeb Stuart. Then her hand became still and she turned to look at the empty doorway while she listened, and her heart started drumming while her ideas about Jake took another sharp turn.




Three


Maggie listened to the deep voice on the phone tell her how reliable Jake was. Jeb told her in detail how Jake had saved his life in Colombia when they had been in the Airborne and on a rescue mission. Closing her eyes, she could visualize the image again of Jake running into the burning barn and then just minutes later, emerging with her father slung over his shoulder. So he was reliable and a wonderful person and she had insulted him and she was being ridiculous.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, only a portion of her uneasiness erased. She replaced the receiver and stared out the window at the blackened field. She didn’t want Jake working for them, but it was that disturbing electricity she experienced every time she was around him that worried her. She didn’t remember feeling that way around Bart and she had been in love with him and had married him.

She gave a slight shake of her shoulders. She and Jake had already discussed the situation. She would hire someone else, and he would go. He didn’t want to be tied down here anyway.

She got out the cold chicken and swiftly set the table, putting potatoes in the microwave oven to bake, then getting out the loaf of homemade bread that was only half eaten. She sliced tomatoes and set them on the table.

“What a picture,” Jake drawled, and she spun around. He stood in the doorway with his hair slicked back, giving him an entirely different appearance, revealing his prominent cheekbones more sharply. He had changed to a white T-shirt and wore jeans and his boots, a sight that made her pulse skip.

“Picture?”

“A pretty woman, scrumptious chicken and an old-fashioned kitchen.”

“I wouldn’t think those would be the things that appeal to you. You sound like you like life in the fast lane.”

He shrugged and strolled into the room, dark gaze on her, and a faint smile curving his mouth. “I like all of those things—pretty women, good food—I guess I don’t care one way or other about kitchens. Since I haven’t eaten for over twenty-four hours now, that food looks like a feast.”

“I’ll pour water and we’ll eat.”

As she reached into the cabinet, his hand brushed hers and he took a glass from her. She turned and he was right beside her, brushing against her shoulder. “I’ll get the drinks.”

“If you look in the back in the bottom of the fridge, you’ll probably find a cold beer. Dad has one now and then.”

“Thanks, but I don’t drink beer.” Jake’s brow arched. “I surprised you, didn’t I?”

As heat flushed her cheeks, she realized she had to stop judging him by his appearance. “You’ve surprised me all day,” she admitted.

“Good,” he said in a tone of voice that changed subtly and made her tingle. “Life is interesting when it holds surprises.”

“It depends on the surprises. The fire today was one heck of a surprise.”

“It was a shock and a bad one. That isn’t what I’m talking about, Maggie.”

“I’ll drink ice water,” she said, trying to get back on an impersonal level. Amusement flashed in his dark eyes before he headed to the refrigerator. She wondered if she would ever forget him moving around their house. What was it about him that carried that air of wild recklessness? He hadn’t done anything that had been out of line, yet she had the feeling he was not only capable of wildness, but that was his usual mode. She glanced out the window at the big Harley parked outside.

Setting two glasses of water on the table, he held a chair for her and she sat down. “Thanks.”

He sat facing her and as she passed the chicken to him, the phone rang. She got up to answer it, motioning him to go ahead.

It was the insurance adjustor, and she made an appointment for the next morning, the first Wednesday in August. She sat down to eat when the phone rang again.

“Go ahead and eat,” she said as she answered to talk to a friend.

While she was on the phone, someone drove up and knocked at the back door. Jake opened it for Melody Caldwell, one of Maggie’s friends. Maggie saw that Melody carried a large casserole dish.

Maggie watched while Jake flirted with Melody and Melody flirted back. Divorced, Melody lived in town. She and Maggie had known each other since they were five and Maggie knew Melody would be in no hurry to go home. She would be fascinated with Jake.

Maggie hung up. “Hi, Melody. Thanks for the food. I see you two met.” She heard an engine and glanced out to see a ranch neighbor drive up. Dressed in jeans and matching Western shirts, looking more like brother and sister than husband and wife with their red hair, Ollie and Pru Morgan climbed out of their truck and crossed the porch with food in hand. Within the hour two more neighbors arrived. After supper, all the friends helped Maggie and Jake move her things back inside the house.

It was half past ten when the last guest left. Maggie was aware of Jake standing beside her on the porch as her neighbors drove away.

“You have a lot of friends.”

“I’ve lived here all my life and so have my parents and my grandparents before them.”

Jake sat down on the wooden steps. “It’s cool and nice out here now. Sit down a minute.”

“I miss Katy being here.”

“You just talked to her a little while ago.”

“I know. She likes to stay with her cousins, and it’s good for them to grow up friends, but I miss her. Patsy has two girls, Ella who is seven and Tina who is five.”

Aware of him only a few feet away, Maggie sat down on the steps. Beside her, he stretched his long legs out in front of him. The night was cool and quiet with only the chirp of crickets and the far-off sound of a bullfrog.

“You have enough food from your friends to last the rest of the week,” Jake said.

“They’ve all been nice.”

“Yeah. It’s great. What would you like me to do in the morning?”

“I guess you can take over Dad’s chores. Because of the drought, he’s having to feed the cattle and horses. He checks on their water. We have a stallion, Red Rogue—Dad just calls him Rogue. He’s wild so be careful of him. He’s penned up by himself in the northeast pasture. Dad is trying to sell him, we have an ad running, but so far, no buyers.” She raised her head. “I can smell the burned land.”

“Yep, but it won’t last long and several of the men said in the seven-day forecast, rain is predicted. First thing you know, it’ll all green up again.”

“Thank goodness the fire didn’t cross the lane and we have our house and trees left in the yard.”

While fireflies flitted over the fenced yard, Maggie and Jake sat in an easy silence, and she was amazed he wanted to just sit and enjoy the evening. He was only a few feet from her, and she was very conscious of him.

“You want to have a bed-and-breakfast and you want your little girl to grow up here. What else do you want from life?”

“That’s about all. I’m happy here with my dad and Katy. This is a good life.” She glanced around. Jake leaned back on his elbows, almost reclining on the steps with his legs in front of him. He watched her, but she could no longer see the expression in his eyes.

“What do you want, Jake?”

“I want to see parts of the world I haven’t already seen. I want to save my money and travel around the world.”

“Your life is hard for me to imagine,” she said. “I’ve never been out of Oklahoma.”

“No kidding!” She saw a flash of his white teeth. “Maybe one day you should let your sister keep Katy and get on my bike with me and let me take you across the state line to Texas.”

She smiled. “Maybe someday I’ll go somewhere. Tonight I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.” She stood. “If you’d like, you can sleep upstairs. I’m sorry I wasn’t hospitable.

He stood and faced her, shaking his head. “Forget it. That hammock looks inviting, and I like it out here under the stars. I haven’t slept outside in a long time. I’ll come in and shower in the morning.”

“Come get a pillow. You won’t need a blanket.”

He held the door and they went inside. She left him in the kitchen while she went upstairs and got a sheet and a pillow and brought them back to him. His hands brushed hers as he took the items from her.

“See you in the morning,” he drawled. The words should have been a brief parting that she barely noticed, but they weren’t. In his husky, soft voice, they were like a caress of his fingers. His eyes held hers extra heartbeats while the silence between them stretched, and she was lost in his gaze.

“Sure,” she whispered.

He turned and crossed the room to the door where he paused and glanced over his shoulder at her. “You can lock up. I won’t need to come back inside until morning.”

She shrugged, embarrassed she had made it so clear that she didn’t trust him and didn’t want him in her home. “That’s all right. We don’t always lock up anyway.”





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