Книга - For Her Child…

For Her Child...
Linda Goodnight


THE LITTLEST SECRETSingle mom Kara Taylor was bristling for a showdown. Her dad had gone and gambled away the family ranch, forcing Kara to confront the new owner to reclaim her son's birthright. But that owner happened to be Ty Murdock, the no-good cowboy who'd long ago left Bootlick for the rodeo…and unwittingly, a pregnant Kara.Deal with the handsome devil Kara would–for her son's sake. But marry him? Yet that was Ty's astonishing offer to make Kara's little cowboy his heir. Close proximity would make resisting Ty's charm and raw appeal next to impossible. Even worse, he had no idea that her son was his…and that tiny secret could lead to Texas-size trouble!







“Hear me out, Kara,”

Ty insisted. “You might even like this.” His lips tilted in his sexy, teasing smile.

With a disbelieving huff, Kara tossed her head and prepared for combat. Nothing sweet-talking Ty Murdock proposed would ever get to her again.

“What if I said I’d make your son my heir?” he suggested.

In one deep gasp, Kara sucked in half the air in the room, choked by the sudden fear that Ty knew the secret of her child’s parentage.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Ty continued. “Your son should eventually inherit this ranch. And a boy shouldn’t be without a father. So marry me, Kara, and I’ll adopt him.”

Blood pounded in Kara’s ears, and fear coiled in her belly like a rattlesnake.

Could a man adopt his own son?


Dear Reader,

What are your New Year’s resolutions? I hope one is to relax and escape life’s everyday stresses with our fantasy-filled books! Each month, Silhouette Romance presents six soul-stirring stories about falling in love. So even if you haven’t gotten around to your other resolutions (hey, spring cleaning is still months away!), curling up with these dreamy stories should be one that’s a pure pleasure to keep.

Could you imagine seducing the boss? Well, that’s what the heroine of Julianna Morris’s Last Chance for Baby, the fourth in the madly popular miniseries HAVING THE BOSS’S BABY did. And that’s what starts the fun in Susan Meier’s The Boss’s Urgent Proposal—part of our AN OLDER MAN thematic series—when the boss…finally…shows up on his secretary’s doorstep.

Looking for a modern-day fairy tale? Then you’ll adore Lilian Darcy’s Finding Her Prince, the third in her CINDERELLA CONSPIRACY series about three sisters finding true love by the stroke of midnight! And delight in DeAnna Talcott’s I-need-a-miracle tale, The Nanny & Her Scrooge.

With over one hundred books in print, Marie Ferrarella is still whipping up fun, steamy romances, this time with three adorable bambinos on board in A Triple Threat to Bachelorhood. Meanwhile, a single mom’s secret baby could lead to Texas-size trouble in Linda Goodnight’s For Her Child…, a fireworks-filled cowboy romance!

So, a thought just occurred: Is it cheating if one of your New Year’s resolutions is pure fun? Hmm…I don’t think so. So kick back, relax and enjoy. You deserve it!

Happy reading!






Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor




For Her Child…

Linda Goodnight





















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


To Sharon Sala, woman of wisdom and writer

extraordinaire. Here’s the book I promised you.

And to my daughter, Sundy, queen of the proofreaders.

Love you, punkin!




LINDA GOODNIGHT


A romantic at heart, Linda Goodnight believes in the traditional values of family and home. Writing books enables her to share her certainty that, with faith and perseverance, love can last forever and happy endings really are possible.

A native of Oklahoma, Linda lives in the country with her husband, Gene, and Mugsy, an adorably obnoxious rat terrier. She and Gene have a blended family of six grown children. An elementary school teacher, she is also a licensed nurse. When time permits, Linda loves to read, watch football and rodeo, and indulge in chocolate. She also enjoys taking long, calorie-burning walks in the nearby woods. Readers can write to her at gnight@mbo.net.


Dear Reader,

My mother was a tiger about her children. She’d do most anything in her power to help me reach my goals or follow my dreams. She was my defender, my encourager and my cheerleader for as long as she lived. For some time now I’ve dreamed of writing romance novels for Silhouette Books, a goal my mother, an avid romance reader, would have championed. Though Mom’s been gone since I was a college student, I find it extremely gratifying and quite fitting that the call offering a contract on this, my first book for Silhouette, came on January 31, Mom’s birthday.

By a lovely twist of fate, this novel is the story of another mother determined to move heaven and earth For Her Child…. I loved creating feisty Kara Taylor and her gorgeous hero, Ty Murdock. Having grown up in the Southwest, I’m enamored with the Western mystique, and so it is no surprise that my first Romance novel features a ranch, a rodeo and, of course, a cowboy. Who can resist a charming, romantic cowboy with a wicked sense of humor? Not me, and certainly not my heroine. I hope you’ll feel the same.

So, it is with great joy and unbounded gratitude that I offer their story for your enjoyment. May it bring you hours of reading pleasure.

Best wishes,









Contents


Chapter One (#u775c441c-0ed5-5612-9fc0-fc12cbbbc824)

Chapter Two (#uf74f4e71-05af-52dd-84dc-38dcf6fc55ed)

Chapter Three (#u4c723206-7c4e-5448-92d8-d6a83993fc13)

Chapter Four (#u634dc8c2-e2c0-568d-98a6-244ada32d22e)

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)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One


Her father had gone and done it again.

Kara Dean Taylor strangled the wheel of her cherry-red Cavalier and splashed beneath the rusted sign proclaiming that she was indeed back home on the Tilted T Ranch.

Twice a year, every year—on the day he was married and the day his wife died—Pete Taylor got drunk and gambled away the Tilted T Ranch. Fortunately, everyone in Bootlick, Texas, knew Pete got a little crazy when he mixed drinking and poker. As soon as Pete sobered up enough to think straight, the new “owner” sold it back to him for a few extra bucks or a six-pack of beer.

But this time he’d lost the Tilted T to the one man Kara despised more than anyone who’d ever worn a pair of cowboy boots. Her father had lost the Tilted T to none other than Ty Murdock—and the sorry snake wouldn’t give it back.

The car was still rocking when Kara slammed out of it and strode toward the sprawling ranch house. A little of the fury subsided at the sight of her dad, standing in the open backdoor, a mile-wide smile on his face.

“Ah, Dad.” She fell into his embrace breathing in the familiar tobacco scent that puffed up from his shirt pocket. “Tell me I misunderstood on the telephone. Tell me you didn’t lose the ranch to Ty Murdock.”

Pete jutted a stubborn jaw. “He won it fair and square.”

“Ty Murdock doesn’t know the meaning of fair.” Even after six years, his name evoked all kinds of irrational thoughts. A vision of his laughing black eyes rose to mock her. “I can’t believe you’d give up our ranch without a fight.”

“Don’t know what else to do. He’s got the deed, signed clean and legal.” Pete shifted uneasily. “Things have changed around here some, Kara Dean. You’d know that if you lived closer.”

Her dad had been hurt when she’d left home only weeks after Mama’s death from the long battle with cancer. He hadn’t understood then, and he didn’t now. She’d let him down when they’d needed each other most, and she wasn’t about to let that happen again. This land was in his blood as well as hers, and Kara was determined to keep it for her son.

The thought of Lane, her five-year-old, brought a sense of foreboding. She was about to come face-to-face with the devil, and though he didn’t know it, Ty Murdock had the power to destroy her.

Patting her father’s back and stiffening her own, Kara headed into the house, eager for the sight of home. Leaning on the bar that divided the kitchen from the dining room, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, sucking in the scent of pine cleaner.

Pine? Her eyes flew open. Wait a minute. What was wrong with this picture? Where were the familiar scents of old leather and oil soap?

Cautiously she stared around the room. Gone was the familiar round table and spindle backed chairs. In their place stood a brand-new dining room set with a glossy oak finish and padded chairs.

“Dad!”

“I tried to warn you.” He touched her arm.

“Where is our stuff?”

“I moved it down to the trailer.”

“What are you doing living in the foreman’s trailer? Don’t tell me that double-dealing Murdock threw you out. I’ll strangle him with my bare hands. I’ll break both of his knees so he’ll never ride another bull. I’ll, I’ll…”

“Dump hot cocoa down my lap like you did in high school?”

Kara froze. Even with her back to the door, she recognized the deep, lazy drawl that haunted her dreams. Low and sexy, with the hint of laughter beneath the surface, the sound sent involuntary shivers down her spine. She clenched both fists and her teeth before turning to face the devil himself.

Pete held up a warning hand. “Hold on now, Kara Dean. Moving to the trailer was my choice. This boy may be a tricky poker player, but he wouldn’t throw an old man out in the cold.”

“It isn’t cold,” she said, perversely. “And this boy is a thirty-year-old man who stole our ranch.”

“Now, Kara, I’m not even twenty-nine yet. Don’t go making an old man out of me,” Ty teased.

She wasn’t prepared for the riot of emotion that swept through every cell in her body at the sight of him. There he stood, cocky as ever, one wide shoulder holding up the doorjamb. Cute little laugh lines bracketed the full lower lip she’d always found particularly sensuous. She stared at it for a moment, fighting the memory of what he could do with that mouth.

Dang it all! Life had been good to him. The dark good looks that had turned her to mush when she was a teenager had only improved with maturity. He was lean and trim, and looked for all the world like the confident bull rider he was. And nobody alive looked better in snug old Wrangler jeans and a black Stetson than Ty Murdock.

He was cowboy beautiful, and she wanted to scratch his laughing black eyes right out of their sockets.

“So.” Hissing in a steadying breath, she curled her lip. “The bad penny returns.”

“I could say the same for you.” His mild answer added fuel to her anger. How dare he be calm and cool when she was forest-fire hot and ready to rumble?

“I belong here. This is my home.”

He smirked. The arrogant mule levered himself off the door and actually smirked, leaving no doubt that he was now sole owner of the Tilted T. With a flourish worthy of an all-round champion, he removed his hat and tossed it onto one horn of a particularly tacky set of deer antlers hanging near the backdoor. Then he sauntered over to the bar, slung one leg over a stool and sat down as if he owned the place.

Dang it all! He did own the place.

Kara backed around to the other side of the narrow bar and simmered. Ty Murdock had already stolen enough from her. He wasn’t getting this ranch, too.

The tension in the room, most of it from Kara, was thicker than a prairie dust storm. “You’re a thief and a cheat, Murdock.”

Ty braced one powerful hand on an equally powerful thigh, his lips tilting in a wry grin. “Well, howdy, Kara. It’s mighty nice to see you, too.”

On some subconscious level she knew Ty hid his true emotions behind a flippant attitude, but Kara was long past caring about his feelings. He wasn’t going to tease his way out of this one.

“You took advantage of my daddy.”

“He did no such thing,” her dad piped up from his spot at the same bar. “A full house beats a flush any day of the week.”

Kara’s ears buzzed and little gray spots danced before her eyes. Anyone else would have thought she was about to faint. Kara knew dang well she was about to commit a crime—murder. Trouble was, she didn’t know who to kill first, her daddy or that worthless piece of cow dung, Ty Murdock.

“Dad, please, if you won’t stand up to this bully, then let me do it.”

Kara regretted the words as soon as they tumbled out of her rapid-fire mouth. A dark flush suffused Pete’s face. She’d embarrassed him, wounded that confounded pride of his. Before she could apologize, Pete rose stiffly from the bar.

“I’m going down to the trailer. When you finish pitching a fit, come on down. Sally’s making dinner.”

He stalked out the door, letting it bang shut behind him. Kara blinked after him in confusion.

Who the heck was Sally?

“Want some coffee?”

Kara’s head snapped around. Ty held a mug in her direction, one eyebrow arched in question.

“I haven’t stocked up on Dr. Pepper—yet.”

Her mouth fell open. He remembered her favorite soft drink?

Between her father’s strange announcement and Ty’s unwanted friendliness, she felt as off balance as a drunk standing in a rowboat during a hurricane. Ty stirred a spoon of sugar into the mug before pushing it across the bar toward her.

Glad for an excuse to do something beside stare with her mouth open, Kara sipped at the hot brew, her mind working frantically.

This wasn’t the way she’d planned their meeting. He wasn’t supposed to stand across from her, calmly watching her over a coffee cup emblazoned with the words Cowboy Up and Ride. He wasn’t supposed to remember how she liked her coffee or what kind of pop she preferred. He was supposed to be the ogre who left her standing in the gravel driveway of the Tilted T crying her eyes out while he drove away to seek his fame and fortune on the bull-riding circuit. He was the cheating, lying womanizer who’d promised a future and then took up with rodeo trash like Shannon Sullivan no sooner than his dust had settled.

The memory of that morning was still as fresh as the taste of his coffee. She turned her mind toward it now, reliving the pain and anger, calling it back for ammunition.

They’d stood inside the open door of his battered old red pickup truck braced against a hard June wind. He’d held her while she cried, smoothing back the long blond locks that whipped around her tear-soaked face.

“I have to go, Kara,” he’d said. “The gossips in this town are just waiting for me to slip up, to show the Murdock blood. This is my chance to prove them all wrong and make something of myself. I need to be more than your daddy’s hired hand.”

“But someday the Tilted T will be mine and we can share it. You won’t be anyone’s hired hand.” Tears flowed over the strong, competent hands that caressed her cheeks.

“Someday.” He kissed her trembling lips, his eyes suspiciously glassy. “But I’m already in my prime as a bull rider. If I’m real lucky I might get ten years in this business. You and I have the rest of our lives to be together.” His callused thumbs massaged the line of her jaw. “When my rodeo career is behind me, and I have some money in my pockets, we’ll turn the Tilted T into the finest ranch in east Texas.”

“If you love me, you’ll stay.”

“Kara, I do love you.” His voice was husky, thick with emotion. “That’s why I have to go. Please understand.”

But she hadn’t understood. Heedless of her pleading, he’d stepped up into the cab of the truck, started the engine and driven out of her life. She’d given him an ultimatum—her or the rodeo. In the end, he’d chosen the rodeo, and his daddy’s womanizing legacy, over her.

The agony of that memory was powerful enough to bring her to her senses. She would not be fooled by any man ever again. Especially not this man.

“This is my family’s ranch and I want it back.”

“Why?” His eyes narrowed as he studied her stormy expression. “If you cared about this place, why’d you move off to Oklahoma City and leave your dad to run things all by himself?”

She bit back the angry retort that simmered inside her. How dare he question her loyalty to this ranch? He didn’t know all the nights she’d cried herself to sleep inside the tiny city apartment with the unfamiliar sounds of sirens and traffic roaring in her ears. He couldn’t know how homesick she’d been, or how desperately she’d needed the comfort of home and family. Or how desperately she’d needed him.

“I had my reasons for moving to the city.” She gripped the warm mug so tightly she thought it might shatter.

“Yeah. I heard you got married.” Ty set his own cup carefully on the counter and stared down at it. “And divorced. Pete even showed me a picture of your son.”

Though nothing in his manner said he was even the least bit suspicious, Kara’s blood turned to ice water. She swallowed twice before trusting herself to speak.

“My personal life is none of your business.”

“It used to be.” He traced the lip of his coffee cup with a long, dark finger.

“That was a long time ago, Ty.” Before you chose the back of a bull over the woman you claimed to love. Before you allowed the rodeo groupies to share the love you’d promised to save for me. Before I had your baby all by myself.

She called up the image of a pale, trembling nineteen-year-old; saw her standing over the bathroom sink as the home pregnancy test revealed the truth. She remembered the smell of fried eggs the first time she’d suffered morning sickness; the taut, swollen feet, the aching back that no one offered to rub. And she recalled twenty hours of labor when no one came to reassure her or love her or to celebrate the arrival of her son. Kara Dean Taylor would never be that vulnerable again.

“You’ll have to pardon me if I’m not interested in waxing nostalgic.”

“What if I am?” His lips tilted upward, but his eyes remained serious, watchful. “We left a lot of unfinished business between us.”

Had they not been so sad, Kara would have found Ty’s unfortunate choice of words funny. Oh, they had unfinished business all right, but not the kind he might imagine. Most likely he was looking for another romp in the hay—literally—but Kara had learned her lesson in that department. The old adage about once burned, twice warned was true. In her case it was twice burned. Once by Ty and then by Josh Riddley, the man who’d been her husband only long enough to protect her son from speculation and to keep her daddy from knowing that his only child had failed him.

She’d fooled herself and Josh into believing love instead of desperation had brought them together. Josh had discovered the truth right away, just as she had discovered his propensity for alcohol-induced violence. In retrospect, facing Pete’s disappointment would have been easier than living with Josh, but after what she’d suffered to protect the secret, she wouldn’t hurt her daddy now.

Pete was old-fashioned. He would never have been able to hold his head up if the whole town knew his pride and joy, the perfect daughter, was an unwed mother. Josh had broken her spirit, but this sexy, handsome cowboy across the counter had done something much worse. He’d broken her heart.

Kara let the rich, sweet coffee linger on her tongue and warm her suddenly cold lips. Some women just have a knack for choosing the wrong men time and time again, and Kara Dean Taylor was one of those misguided fools. It had taken two failures to convince her, but that was enough.

Kara tossed back another shot of coffee. “Let’s get one thing straight, Murdock. There is nothing unfinished between us.”

For emphasis she clunked the ceramic cup onto the countertop. A bit of the dark liquid splashed out. Sliding off the bar stool, she circled the bar and headed into the kitchen. Ty stood directly between her and the paper towels. The twinkle in his eye said he had no intention of moving out of the way.

“If you had any manners, you’d either move or hand me a towel.”

He smiled and crossed his arms, leaning his backside against the counter. His posture challenged her to come closer, to prove that there was nothing left between them.

Fine then. She’d show the insufferable cowboy just how completely immune to him she was.

Armed with his betrayal and six years of heartache, she marched right up to him and leaned to the left, taking care not to touch him. He shifted slightly, bringing their bodies into alignment. Suddenly she was nose to chest with the man she hated more than anyone on earth. And he smelled delicious. Her pulse kicked up a notch. Here was the warm, woodsy scent that had lingered on her skin and on her clothes and in her mind long after he was gone.

She gritted her teeth against the tide of feeling that threatened. “Give me that dang towel, Murdock.”

“Give me the towel. Give me the ranch,” he mocked softly, his mouth so close to her hair that she felt the heat of his breath. “Is there anything else the queen desires?”

He was strong and warm and masculine and, oh, so familiar, even after all this time. For the briefest moment she felt herself being drawn by his charm.

His hard, cowboy’s hand snaked up her back, caressing as it went. Sensation as warm as butter melting on sweet corn flowed through Kara’s veins. Just when she would have leaned into his chest, he tugged at her ponytail and dropped his hand. The quiet rumble of his chuckle tickled her face.

Kara jerked away, breaking contact with his body. How dare he toy with her! And why on earth had she responded like that?

Not caring if the coffee spill ever got wiped up, she marched around the counter away from him. If he thought he could charm her into forgetting what he’d done, he could think again. Once she might have folded, but now she had her son to consider.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Murdock,” she said in a distressfully breathless voice. “You’re still the selfish little boy you always were, thinking you can charm your way in or out of anything. Well, I’ve got news for you this go-round, cowboy. You can saddle up and ride right on out the way you came in. Just put the deed to the Tilted T on the table as you leave.”

He struck a casual pose, his face unreadable, though Kara suspected he wasn’t nearly as unmoved as he pretended. “Sorry to disappoint you, honey, but this old cowboy ain’t going nowhere.”

“Then, I’ll take you to court.”

“You don’t have a leg to stand on. This place was in your father’s name.”

“Dad intended for my son to have the Tilted T.”

“Maybe. But, if you really thought he could take over someday, you would have had him living here all his life. A boy raised in the city can’t run a ranch.”

“I’m teaching him.”

“How? By showing him reruns of Gunsmoke? By letting him ride the plastic pony at Wal-Mart?”

“I’ll have you know Lane can ride as well as I could at his age.” And every time he mounted a horse, Kara’s heart broke to think of how his own father’s cheating had robbed her son of the opportunity to grow up on horseback the way she had.

Ty shoved away from the counter and stalked toward her. “What about his father? Maybe he has plans for the boy.”

Kara shivered inwardly at the thought, the secret raring up like a spooked stallion. “Lane has had no contact with his useless excuse for a father since the day he left. He has no say in Lane’s life. Never has, never will.”

Ty whistled softly. “Sounds like a bitter divorce.”

“So bitter that neither Lane nor I carry his father’s name. Lane is mine and mine alone.” Now was as good a time as any to break this bit of news. “We’re both Taylors. And Taylors have always owned this ranch. That’s why I’m not leaving here until you give it back.”

“Well, darlin’,” he drawled, laughter returning to his eyes as he hooked both thumbs in his pockets and tilted back on his heels. “I hope you packed your toothbrush, because you’ve got a long stay ahead of you.”




Chapter Two


Out of long habit Ty dumped the remains of his coffee into the sink and rinsed the cup, then turned it up on the counter to drain and repeated the action with Kara’s cup. Ten years of living out of the back of a camper had taught him that no one else would come along to do his chores. If he made a mess, he cleaned it up. The mess he’d made a long time ago was what had brought him back to Bootlick and the Tilted T. Trouble was, he’d stepped in a bigger mess as soon as he’d hit the place.

Nobody could have been more surprised than he to hold the deed to the ranch where he’d spent his summers during high school and college. He’d come back hoping to buy a place of his own, all right, but he hadn’t thought it would be the Tilted T. Ty knew Pete’s predilection for gambling, but he’d fully expected to return the deed as soon as the old man sobered up. That’s when Pete hit him with the truth. The ranch was sinking in a cesspool of debt, and if Ty didn’t take it, the bank was going to. Ty knew how devastating such an action would be to a man with Pete’s pride. Telling Ty had been hard enough. To have the whole county know he’d failed would bring the old rancher to his knees. To have his daughter know would kill him.

After three days of arguing and studying the ledgers, Ty saw Pete’s reasoning. With the money he’d put aside from his winnings, Ty could settle the debts and put the ranch back on its feet, and it would belong to him lock, stock and barrel. Pete only asked three things in exchange: that he be allowed to stay on as permanent foreman, that the agreement would remain their secret and, the toughest part of all, that Ty would have to take the backlash from Kara without telling her the truth.

Kara. A vision of her furious green eyes stabbed at him. They’d loved each other once, when they were too young and foolish to make good choices, and he felt a tug of regret that they couldn’t even be friends. Fact of the business, he’d felt more than friendship when she’d bumped up against him, smelling like an April morning. Kara had fanned an ember he’d thought long dead, and he’d had to fight the urge to hold her and explain.

He leaned an elbow on the counter and stared into the metal sink. Though he hated looking like a horse thief, Ty’s loyalty to the man who’d taught him everything he knew about ranching and all he needed to know about being a man was too strong to turn back now. To save Pete’s pride he would swallow his own and let Kara think the worst of him. He shook his head in self-mockery. She already did.

The good folk of Bootlick wouldn’t be surprised either that he hadn’t returned the Tilted T like all Pete’s other drinking buddies. They’d always expected the worst from him, too. He knew they’d pointed fingers and gossiped when he’d gone off on the rodeo circuit. “Just like his good-for-nothing daddy,” they’d most likely said. In the back of his mind dwelled the nagging worry that they were right.

For years he’d never stayed in one place long enough to see the seasons change. What if he couldn’t settle down? What if his daddy’s rambling blood was too strong to overcome? One thing for certain, taking over the Tilted T would force him to find out the truth about himself once and for all.

With a sigh he reached for a towel to wipe the sink just as Kara’s jean-clad backside came into view outside the kitchen window. Fists clenched at her sides, she stomped toward the foreman’s trailer like a mad bull. The blond ponytail bobbed through the hole in the back of a hot-pink bill cap, and her white tennis shoes churned the ankle-high grass.

Ty leaned forward to watch, and a grin broke through his somber thoughts. Jiminy Christmas, that woman gave off sparks!

She bounded up the steps and stormed inside the trailer, ready to do battle in the name of family honor. Crazy woman. If only she knew the truth. But she and old Pete had tiptoed around each other’s feelings as long as he could remember. Each thought the other expected perfection, and perfection was damnably hard to live up to.

He wondered what they’d do if he went over there right now, sat down at the table and made them both listen to the truth. He couldn’t of course. Pete had made him promise.

“Just look at this place,” Kara muttered as she eyed the old trailer house with disdain. The once maroon paint had faded to a dull violet. The skirting was pushed in at one side. The front door sagged. Even the lilacs blooming by the steps needed pruning. And to think her father had exchanged his beloved ranch house for this decrepit-looking old trailer. If she hadn’t already been furious, the notion would have made her mad enough to spit nails.

Well, the trailer would have to do for both of them. Until she could figure out a way to get the ranch back from that smirking maniac, she had no choice but to stay on the premises. Who knew what madness Murdock might dream up if left to his own devices? Though she didn’t want to stay anywhere near the black-eyed devil, if she left now, Lane would never own what was rightfully his. And Ty Murdock would steal another piece of her life. She and her dad would do just fine in the trailer until this thing was settled, and Murdock was gone for good. Even at that she’d have to work quickly. Though Lane was in good hands with her roommate Marietta, Kara had no intention of staying away from her son more than a few days. Bringing him to the ranch near Murdock was out of the question.

Stomping up the wooden steps, Kara yanked at the storm door. It stuck. She yanked again, viciously this time, and when the door gave without warning, she found herself backing rapidly down the steps. Somehow she managed to hang on to the door handle and pull herself back onto the porch.

With a beleaguered sigh she opened the inner door and was greeted by the yeasty scent of homemade bread. Sally, whoever she was, had just gone up a notch in Kara’s estimation.

Inside the tiny, cramped trailer, Pete’s familiar old recliner was settled beneath the west window, and Pete was in it. Kara couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. Her father looked as content as a cat in a sunny windowsill.

“Well, I see you got over your fit long enough to come eat.” Pete flexed his knees, popping the footrest back into the chair. “Hope you got that out of your system. A man don’t appreciate being took to task in front of another man.”

That insufferable pride. Kara shook her head, the guilt of embarrassing him stronger than her need to be right.

“I’m sorry, Dad. Ty Murdock just makes me so mad.”

“Always could make you madder or happier than any other human being around.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Uh-huh.” He scrubbed at his whiskers with one hand. “More reason for the two of you to get along now. Especially since he’s the new boss around here.” He held up one hand. “Now don’t start in on me. I won’t back down from a debt, and you know it.”

“I don’t understand you, Dad. How can you let a lifetime of hard work and memories go without a fight?”

“I’m not going to fuss with you about this, girl. Now, that’s the end of it.”

Kara clapped her lips together and fumed.

“Stop your stewing and come meet Sally.”

A gentle-faced woman with salt-and-pepper hair rounded the kitchen and stepped into the living area. A slight flush graced her plump cheeks, and the thought that she was obviously anxious about meeting Pete’s daughter caused no little speculation in Kara’s mind.

The two women exchanged greetings, then Kara said, “I do hope that bread is for lunch. My mouth has been watering since I opened the door.”

Sally smiled her appreciation. “As a matter-of-fact, lunch is ready. Come sit.”

As they settled at the table, the older couple looked at each other, their eyes holding for several seconds. Kara watched transfixed at the gentle expression on her father’s face. What was going on here?

Pete chose that moment to clear his throat. “Kara, honey, there’s something me and Sally want you to know.”

Unease tightened Kara’s chest. She watched the pair over the rim of her tea glass.

“The two of us…Sally and me…we’re keeping company.”

Keeping company? Did that mean what she thought it meant?

Before she could ask, Pete rose from his chair, circled the table and placed both hands on Sally’s shoulders. His fingers looked worn and gnarled against the flowered print of Sally’s cotton blouse.

“Sally’s been living here in the trailer and cooking for me over to the ranch. What with Ty taking over and all, well…”

Realization dawned. Sally and Pete were living together.

While she and her son were struggling through life, biding time until they could come home for good, her father had fallen in love. Part of her resented Sally for taking her mother’s place, and part of her was glad to see her father happy. Still, finding out that her father had a paramour was a shock. Worse yet, she couldn’t imagine asking Pete to let her stay in the cramped little trailer with him and his lady friend.

Another half hour passed before lunch was over and Kara found a reasonable excuse to exit the trailer. Thanks to Ty and her father, she had a lot of thinking to do, and the only place left to do it was the horse barn.

A long breezeway separated the two sides of the barn, stalls lining each side. In bad weather the breezeway could be closed off, but today, fresh spring air swept through, stirring the smell of horse and hay. Kara drew in the scent as if it were roses. A familiar equine head poked over the third stall and whinnied in greeting.

“Taffy.” Kara rubbed a hand over the velvety nose. A barrel racer, Taffy had been Kara’s faithful friend throughout her high school years.

Kara lifted the latch and slid inside the stall, automatically reaching for the currycomb hanging on the wall. With slow, steady strokes she groomed the animal, letting the rhythmic motion soothe her jangled nerves just as it always had.

“You’ve got a lot of tangles here,” she said, pulling the comb through the mare’s winter mane. “And so do I.”

Unfortunately, the mare’s tangles were more easily remedied than Kara’s. She couldn’t leave until this ownership fuss was settled, but there was no place for her to stay in the meantime.

The trailer was out, leaving only the house, the barn or the back seat of her car, none of which sounded too appealing. She’d come home fully expecting her old room to be ready and waiting as usual.

To think she might never again lie in her childhood bed and watch for shooting stars in the vast Texas sky or see the early-morning mist rise over the pond filled her with homesickness. Lane deserved to know those pleasures, too.

Thinking of her son put starch in Kara’s spine. Since Lane’s birth she’d faced more than her share of unpleasant situations, and she would not back down from one this important.

She paused, resting her hand along the horse’s warm sturdy neck. “This is my home and Lane’s inheritance. No one is going to take it from us, especially a man who might jump up and run off with the rodeo—or a woman—at the drop of a hat.”

If Ty thought she’d hightail it back to Oklahoma City without a fight, he didn’t know her at all. If she had to beg, steal or lie to secure her baby’s future, that’s what she’d do. Even if it meant bunking in the same house with the enemy.

The very idea of sleeping under the same roof with Ty Murdock sent shivers running through her, shivers she didn’t understand. Was she afraid of what Ty might do if he discovered Lane was his son? That had to be the reason. She didn’t trust him any farther than she could spit a Volkswagen. And she dang sure wasn’t about to let a man have the upper hand in her life. Not ever again.

Sucking in a cleansing breath of hay-scented air, Kara chuckled softly and hugged the old mare’s neck. Ty had better get ready. He was about to have an unexpected houseguest.

“Come on, Taffy, let’s have a look around and make sure Murdock is taking good care of my property.”

Replacing the comb, she gripped Taffy’s halter and pushed the gate open. The crunch of boots on wood chips had her spinning around before she was halfway out of the stall.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The loathsome cowboy stalked toward her.

She tossed her nose into the air. “Going for a ride.”

“No, you’re not.”

Ignoring him, Kara led the mare forward. Ty’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm with such strength that she halted. She dropped her gaze to the fingers digging into her flesh.

“Get your hands off me.”

She yanked. Ty refused to budge. Instead, he closed the gap between them, forcing her backward into the stall along with the mare. Inside the narrow cubicle, Kara found herself trapped between two familiar bodies, one warm and welcoming, the other hard and unyielding.

“Well, aren’t you the tough guy?” Kara hissed sarcastically. The electricity that sparked between them made her even madder. “Stealing from old men and pushing around women half your size. How impressive.”

Ty relaxed his grip the tiniest bit. He should have known better. Perhaps he didn’t remember as much about her temper as he should have. Kara jerked her hands free, doubled up her fists and slammed them into his chest, letting go with six years of pent-up pain and rage.

“You sorry, low-down, rotten, lying, cheating, thieving…” The invectives went on for a full minute. She lambasted him in every way imaginable. By the time she got to his kinfolk, his intellect and his relationship to lower forms of life, it occurred to her that Ty made no attempt to stop the pummeling of his upper body. His body relaxed, he held her captive against the mare, flinching only when she came too close to his face.

“Kara,” he said in a far too calm and sensible voice when she slowed for breath.

She shot a left hook to his shoulder. “And if you think you can waltz in here and keep me from riding my own horse…”

“Kara,” he said again in that same close-to-laughter voice.

This time she stopped whacking him long enough to notice the quirky grin pulling at his devilishly handsome face.

“What?”

“Taffy has a cut on her left hock. I had the vet out this morning to sew her up, but she’s not fit to ride just yet.”

“Oh.” All the steam seeped out of Kara.

Dang him. Why did he have to make sense? She’d just thrown a wall-eyed fit when he’d only been protecting the horse.

She knew she should apologize. Was trying to swallow her pride and find the words when Taffy and her bad leg decided they’d stood in one spot as long as they could. The mare shifted sideways. Kara stumbled backward at the sudden disappearance of her brace, the now unrestricted pressure of Ty’s body forcing her down. He fell, too, landing atop her in a pile of fresh alfalfa hay.

Ty’s black eyes blinked at her from a mere two inches away. The heat of his breath swept across her cheek like warm sunshine as they lay in a tangle, panting their surprise into each other’s face.

His hat lost in the fall, Ty’s hair lay in damp disarray against his forehead. Kara’s heart did a strange stutter-step. He looked the way he had in every dream that had haunted her sleep since she’d last seen him. Worse than that, he looked like the face that sat across from her every morning. He looked like his son. As if hypnotized, Kara lifted a hand to the errant thatch of hair and brushed it back. As soon as she touched him, the laughter disappeared from his face. Onyx-colored eyes searched hers.

“Kara?” he whispered, sounding as uncertain as she felt.

She knew she should move, should leap up and run out of the barn and off this ranch as fast as humanly possible. But for the life of her she couldn’t budge. She lay mesmerized by the smooth dark skin, the tiny crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the laugh lines bracketing his lips.

Before the next heartbeat Ty’s mouth closed over hers, and Kara felt herself drawn back into time, to a memory as achingly sweet as cotton candy. It was crazy. It was stupid. It wasn’t what she wanted at all. But her body hadn’t forgotten the magic that had blossomed between them all those years ago.

He was wonderfully familiar and tantalizingly different at the same time. A thousand conflicting emotions roiled within her. He felt so right, yet for her, he was so utterly, completely wrong. She’d loved him far too long, then hated him just as passionately.

The hay, the horse, the man all evoked memories of their last night together. She’d been desperate, foolishly believing if she loved him well enough, he couldn’t leave her. But he had. While his baby grew inside her, he was off somewhere betraying her with another woman.

Kara snapped into focus.

What was she doing? She’d come to rid the place of Ty Murdock, not be seduced by him. Hadn’t she already learned that lesson?

Though her heart thudded painfully, and her body ached in a strangely pleasant manner, Kara forced herself to remember the terrible price she’d paid because of Ty’s deceit.

Ty must have sensed her sudden withdrawal, for he stilled and lay with his warm breath puffing against her neck. His heart hammered erratically against her palms. Kara pushed at his chest, wanting him gone before the temptation proved too strong.

Several beats passed before he rolled away, stretching full length beside her, one arm thrown over his eyes, chest heaving. Kara lay in the prickly hay, senses zinging, mind reeling.

Cheeks burning, Kara sat up, brushing at her straw-covered clothes. The crinkle of hay told her he, too, had sat up. She made a motion to escape.

“Kara, wait.” Ty’s husky voice stopped her.

Though fearful of what he might say, she waited. When his strong fingers began carefully picking grass from her hair, an involuntary shudder ran through her. Letting him touch her again was not a good idea. With a jerk she pulled away and stood, anxious to make her getaway. Taffy, relegated to a corner of the stall, turned her tawny head and nuzzled Kara’s shoulder.

Ty stayed where he was, balanced on one elbow, looking up at her. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.”

Fiercely, she scrubbed her moist, tingling lips with the back of one hand. The feel of Ty’s warm mouth wouldn’t go away. “Of course not. You think everything you do is justifiable.”

No doubt the conceited wretch thought a few kisses and a good roll in the hay would soften her, and she’d head back to the city and let him have the Tilted T. But he was wrong. She’d never be a fool for soft kisses and sweet lies again.

“What did you think, Ty? That you could seduce me out of fighting for my son’s birthright?”

“It never even crossed my mind.” His gaze lowered to the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Especially since I never had to seduce you before.”

Kara stiffened, fists clenched. The truth in his words made them all the more humiliating. “You egotistical piece of—”

Ty held up a hand in a gesture of peace and shook his head ruefully. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” He reached for his hat, dusting it off against his knee. “Face it, Kara, even if the ranch were yours, you can’t run it from Oklahoma City.”

“I was planning to move home.”

“When? After the place fell apart? Have you looked around lately? Do you know how much work needs to be done here?”

She hadn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “I could see to it.” Kara’s chin jutted stubbornly.

“Excuse me if I disagree, Miss Taylor, but you can’t run a ranch on the weekends. Anyway, you never cared about this place. You sure couldn’t wait to get away from it.”

“I’ve already told you, I had my reasons.”

“Yeah, right.” He shoved the Stetson onto his head, dark eyes glittering. “Josh Riddley, wasn’t it? The dust had hardly settled behind me when you took up with him. So much for your promises of undying devotion. Both to me and to this ranch.”

She was shocked that he knew her former husband’s name. But that was good, she supposed. As long as he believed the worst of her, the secret would be safe. From the look on his face, he’d never had a single inkling that Josh was not Lane’s father.

“You broke a few promises yourself, cowboy. Not that it matters now.” She jabbed a finger at him. “I’ll just tell you the cold, hard facts as I see them. I’m staying. In my own house, in my own room, and I’m not leaving until you give me back that deed.”




Chapter Three


Ty stood in the corral, arms folded along the top edge of the fence rail, one boot propped on the bottom rung, studying the Tilted T in darkness. Tree frogs set up their mating song, competing long and loud with the katydids, and somewhere a mare whinnied for her colt. A quarter moon spilled light over the acreage so that the buildings and corrals, horses and vehicles all took on shadowy forms in the darkness. The sky above was a black velvet curtain studded with diamonds.

He glanced toward the house and saw the kitchen light come on. Kara, no doubt. His belly growled, a reminder that he hadn’t eaten supper, and here it was bedtime. But after Kara stomped out of the barn, he’d felt it wise to let her cool awhile.

He hadn’t meant to kiss her, but he couldn’t take it back. Didn’t want to as a matter-of-fact. Something had come over him when he’d felt her soft curves beneath his. Desire, he guessed. Any cowboy with a drop of testosterone would desire a woman like Kara. But there had been something else, too. Something he couldn’t quite put a name to. He wrinkled his forehead, trying to get a grip on the nameless emotion Kara stirred in him. Nostalgia. Memories. He and Kara went back a long way, regardless of the rift between them now—a rift so wide he’d need an airplane to cross it.

A door slammed and a male voice carried on the still night air. Pete’s, though he couldn’t make out the words.

Not until he heard the crunch of boots coming across the paddock did he realize Pete was headed his way. Illuminated only by the silvery moonlight, the old guy looked like a specter with a hitch in one leg.

“Knee acting up again?” Ty asked, the words as soft as the night air.

Pete shrugged away the question. “Ah. You know.”

Yeah, he did know. Knew very well that getting kicked, stomped and thrown on a regular basis took its toll on every cowboy. Age just made it hurt more.

“Kara Dean run you out of your own house?” Pete asked, leaving no doubt that aches and pains weren’t on his mind.

Ty stared out over the paddock at the big roan gelding ambling in his direction. “She’s plenty mad about this.”

“Told you she would be.” Pete pulled a can of tobacco from his pocket, took a pinch and stuffed it behind his bottom lip.

Ty dropped his boot to the ground and turned toward his old friend. “What’s happened to her, Pete? She’s the same, but she’s not, if you know what I mean.”

“I do know what you mean. Defensive. Sometimes I think it’s her mama dying so fast like that. Other times, I think it’s because of you.”

“Me?” The notion surprised him. “Wasn’t me she married.” Funny how that still disturbed him.

“Him.” Pete spat.

Ty squinted through the darkness, trying to read the older man’s face. “You didn’t like him, then?”

“Never knew him that well, but I always sensed something wrong between them. Never thought she was happy with him.”

Ty turned that over in his mind. If she wasn’t happy, why’d she up and marry the man? Why’d she have his baby? The obvious answer hurt more than he wanted it to. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered if Kara had taken up with another guy and gotten pregnant soon after he’d joined the rodeo circuit.

“You think she’ll stay?” Ty gazed toward the house. The kitchen light was still on, and Kara’s silhouette moved past the window. His eyes strained to see her better. “To fight over the ranch, I mean?”

“Nah.” Pete draped one elbow over the rail, letting the fence take the weight off his aching knee. “That girl’s crazy over Lane. Won’t stay more than a day or two without him.”

“Why didn’t she bring him this go-round?”

“Boy’s in kindergarten. But Kara don’t like leaving him long, even with her roommate. She’ll be up and gone soon, you mark my words.”

Ty rubbed a hand over the soft, equine nose poking over the fence. He slanted a glance toward his old friend who stroked the opposite side of the roan gelding. Pete’s fingers, once so deft with a lariat rope, were bent and gnarled along the knuckles. White hair, once as dark as his own, glistened like snow in the moonlight. With a painful shock, Ty realized that his friend and mentor was getting old. One more reason he was eager for someone else to take over the Tilted T.

He wondered if Kara, in all her whirlwind visits, had taken the time to notice. If she had, surely she would give the old man the one thing he wanted most. Couldn’t she see the old cowboy was lonely for family? Permanent family, not someone who ran in and out when the notion struck.

“You’d like her to live closer by, wouldn’t you, Pete?”

“Reckon I would.” The tobacco jutted the old man’s lip as he spoke. “A long time ago Kara promised me a grandson. Had some silly notion that she’d let me down by not being a boy. She didn’t, of course. Why, I wouldn’t trade a hair on her head for a houseful of boys, but now that she has me a grandson, don’t seem right to keep him in Oklahoma while I’m down here in Texas. A boy needs a man’s influence, you know.”

“What about Riddley? Doesn’t he spend time with the boy?”

“Nah.” Pete shook his head. “I don’t know what happened between Josh and Kara, but I do know one thing. She’s mighty bitter about it. Won’t let the man near that child.”

“Did you ever ask her what happened?”

“Figured if she wanted me to know, she’d tell me.”

Ty stroked the smooth, warm horseflesh while his mind absorbed all Pete’s revelations. He knew about young boys needing a man’s influence. Pete had been that man in his own life, a surrogate father throughout his rough-and-tumble high school years. Without Pete he might have become even more like his old man than he was.

Sam Murdock had cheated on his wife for as long as anyone could remember. When Ty was thirteen, Sam went off to a rodeo in Odessa with his latest flame, and Ty hadn’t seen him since. The gossips of Bootlick had predicted that Ty’s good looks and natural charm would lead him down the same path. “Blood will tell,” they liked to say each time Ty was within earshot.

His mother had been wise enough to know that a boy needed a real man’s influence, and she’d asked Pete to put him to work on the Tilted T, where he’d learned to focus all his wild teenage energy into roping, riding and ranching.

He’d fallen in love with Pete’s daughter, too, taken her innocence and left her crying. That act of disloyalty, both to Pete and to Kara, haunted him still, adding to his fear that the Murdock blood in his veins was too strong to overcome.

Yep, Ty owed old Pete a lot more than a place to live and a foreman’s job. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for the grizzled old man at his side.

The seed of an idea began to form in the back of his mind.

Pete wanted Kara and his grandson to come home for good. Kara wanted the ranch for her son. And he wanted to find out if he was man enough to settle down. He could only think of one way to do it all.

“Pete, what if there was a way to give both you and Kara what you want? And maybe me, too?”

Furrows appeared in Pete’s forehead. “You ain’t fixing to tell her about the ranch debts, are you? We had an agreement.”

“No. Nothing like that. But I am fixing to take a little gamble and see how badly Kara wants this ranch for her boy.”

“What ya got in mind?”

“A little proposition that will force her to bring Lane down here to live for good.”

“Ooo-wee, Kara Dean don’t like being forced to do anything. You’re gonna make her mad, I can already tell that.”

Ty laughed lightly, suddenly looking forward to the next encounter with the sizzling Kara. “Yeah, I suppose I will.”

“Then I wish you luck, boy. She’s still as full of spit and vinegar as ever.” Pete laughed and slapped the top rung of the iron fence. The gelding jerked back at the hollow metal sound ringing out over the paddock.

“Well, I’m heading to the house.” Pete spat one last time and clapped Ty on the shoulder. “Sally’s fixed a cherry cobbler and I reckon another piece before bed won’t kill me. You want to come up for a bite?”

“Sounds good, but not this time, Pete. Thanks anyway.”

When Pete limped off into the darkness, Ty resumed his position along the fence rail, this time staring up into the inky sky. He spotted the Big Dipper and swung his eyes along its pouring side in search of Polaris. Finding it brought back memories.

Watching stars had been a favorite pastime of his and Kara’s. Among other things. His mouth tilted upward. They’d been stupid kids, wildly in love and recklessly romantic. He recalled lying on a horse blanket along the creek bank after they’d made love. A few feet away their horses nipped at the thick clover, and the sound of bullfrogs was the most romantic music he’d heard before or since. The moonlight bathed Kara’s face in gold, and her green eyes glistened with tenderness as she dreamed out loud, planning their future.

“Look, there’s our star.” Kara pointed upward.

“Make a wish.”

“You already know what I wish.” She rolled toward him, her words sliding over his skin like a silk shirt. “I want us to get married and have a baby boy with your black eyes and dark skin.”

He kissed her nose. “And we’ll name him Lane.”

“After our favorite cowboy, Lane Frost.”

And she’d done it. She’d given her son the name they’d chosen together all those years ago when the stars and moon looked exactly as they did tonight. Even now the pain of that betrayal stabbed at him like a hundred pitchforks.

That she’d married so soon after he left had hurt like nothing else before or since. At the time, he’d been convinced she was angry, vulnerable, and maybe even punishing him for leaving. But when she’d had the guy’s baby and had given him the very name they’d picked out together, something inside Ty had withered up and died. She’d been his, and no other man had a right to give her a baby.

As he stared upward into the Milky Way, a falling star zoomed past, glowing desperately in the white heat of its last hurrah. He watched it burn itself out, then searched the sky until he found their star. And then he made a wish.




Chapter Four


Kara snuggled deeper into the pillow and smiled, relishing the scent of fresh morning air that wafted through the half-open window. The air was cool, the bed warm and the early morning redolent with bird-song. She couldn’t remember when she’d slept so well, a puzzle considering the adrenaline that had surged through her veins the previous day.

She’d expected to lie awake half the night reliving the look and feel of Ty Murdock, of the way he’d kissed her, of the way she’d responded, of how furious and delirious he could make her all at the same time. Instead, after a cup of warm cocoa, she’d fallen into her familiar old bed and slept soundly, dreaming beautiful, happy dreams that now fluttered elusively around the edges of her consciousness, just out of reach.

Yawning and stretching, Kara sat up and gazed fondly around at the room that defined the girl she once was.

An ancient poster of Luke Perry as Lane Frost from the old movie 8 Seconds smiled down at her, the edges brown and curling inward. Beside it a banner heralded Texas A & M, Ty’s alma mater and the school she’d attended the year before Mama died. Below, a few old cassette tapes, a hodgepodge of country artists long forgotten, lay stacked on a dresser. Next to them was a small photo of Kara astride Taffy surrounded by her mother, dad and Ty at the National Youth Finals Rodeo, all clearly delighted at Kara’s winning time in the barrel race. These were the memories she’d held to in those first awful, lonely days in Oklahoma City.

The childhood room wrapped around her like a security blanket. She wanted to lie within its faded pastel-blue walls and hide from the problems confronting her the moment she stepped out the door. But she couldn’t. Lane’s future was at stake, and that alone got her moving toward the shower.

Afterward, as she slipped into jeans and a white T-shirt emblazoned with the slogan “Every cowgirl needs a cowboy. Somebody’s gotta clean the stalls,” Kara reviewed her options. Reasoning with Ty and Pete had been futile. The only sensible recourse lay fifteen miles south in the town of Bootlick. Attorney James Culpepper wasn’t some slick city lawyer, but he’d carefully served the legal needs of the entire region for as long as Kara could remember. At the very least, he could tell her if there was any legal way she could regain the Tilted T.

The slamming screen door was Ty’s first indication that Kara was up. He stood in the back of the pickup holding the guide rope while one of the hired hands maneuvered a sign into place high above his head. He’d carried that sign behind the truck seat since his first big rodeo win, a tangible reminder that someday he’d grow roots and settle down.

At the sight of Kara storming in his direction, he called up to his helper. “We got trouble coming.”

Matt Jacobs was a rangy young cowboy who’d worked off and on for the Tilted T for several years. With a wry grin, he looked down from the ladder poking up from the pickup bed.

“Man. I was hoping to be way out on the south eighty before she showed up.”

Ty laughed. “Coward.”

“Darn right. Little women with spit in their eyes are scarier than a pasture full of mad bulls. Just look at her.”

Ty was looking all right. Fact of the business, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His belly did a couple of funny flip-flops just like it did right before he threw his leg over the back of a bull. Kara marched down the driveway, slender arms swinging, fists clenched, blond ponytail bobbing to beat Dixie. She’d seen what he was up to and was madder than a nest full of red wasps. With a curious buzz of anticipation, he secured the rope to the truck bed and prepared for round two.

Matt clambered down the ladder, keeping one eye on the advancing woman. “This is your fight, man. I’m headed to the barn. If you’re still alive when she gets through with you, holler, and I’ll help you finish up here.”

“What if she kills me?”

“Then she can holler, and I’ll haul your dead carcass to the dump.”

Matt leaped over the side of the pickup, shot one more glance at Kara and hurried toward the barn. Ty grinned at his back, then turned toward the woman stomping down the driveway.

He let his gaze slide over her advancing form. Still a little thing, she was curvier than he remembered, her belly flat, her hips filling out the blue jeans to perfection. Reluctantly he acknowledged she was still the most desirable woman he’d ever known. Even after all this time, Kara stirred up all kinds of strange emotions inside him.

She jerked to a stop at the back of the truck and raised her furious face toward his. Two spots of color dotted her cheekbones. He stifled a crazy urge to laugh, knowing she’d kill him for sure if he did.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, breath coming in soft pants that lifted her breasts up and down in a most appealing manner. He tried not to look, but Jiminy Christmas, she was sexy. Twice as sexy as he remembered.

On her T-shirt was a picture of a cowgirl in the saddle. Kara’s agitated breathing moved the rider up and down, creating all sorts of wicked fantasies in Ty’s mind. He tried to rein in the wayward thoughts before she noticed and clobbered him.

“That old sign had to come down, Kara.” He tipped his hat back with his thumb and squinted down at her. “It wasn’t even legible.”

“Getting a new sign is one thing.” Eyes the color of a stormy ocean shot daggers as Kara looked from Ty to the new sign hanging over the cross timbers leading onto the Tilted T. “But you are not changing the name of this ranch.”

“Done did.” Dusting his hands against his jeans, Ty squatted down near the tailgate so that they were eye-to-eye. Kara was so furious her pupils had disappeared, leaving nothing but green venom. Gosh, he loved it when she got all het up this way. Seeing her like this reminded him of how passionate she was about everything. He had the totally irrational urge to lean over the tailgate and kiss her square on that sassy mouth.

“New ownership. New name.”

She slapped a hand against the truck fender. The metallic sound split the still morning. A lesser man would have jumped. Truth was, Ty would have jumped had he not seen it coming.

“What exactly was wrong with the old name?” she snapped.

“Nothing. But it’s time for a change. Like I said, new owner, new name.”

“Did Dad agree to this?”

“I’m the boss now, Kara. Get used to it.”

She fumed as she pointed to the new sign. “The Star M. What kind of name is that?”

He glanced upward, proud of the giant silver star he’d had imprinted with a wide blue M. “M for Murdock.”

“Oh, I get it.” Distaste settled over her features. She clapped a hand on each hip. “This is your way of reminding the whole world that Ty Murdock is a big-time rodeo star. The all-round champion with enough fancy belt buckles to fill a horse trailer. You just couldn’t wait to come back here and make sure everyone knew what a big success you’d become, could you?”

He’d sworn not to let her get to him, but the cruel words stung. He opened his mouth to tell her the truth, then thought better of it as a little of his good mood seeped away. If she wanted to think the worst of him, so be it. It wouldn’t change the real meaning of the new name, and it wouldn’t change the fact that he controlled the Tilted T. If Kara wanted this ranch, she was going to have to come around to his way of thinking.

He shrugged. “You know what they say. When you’ve got it flaunt it.”

“You won’t have it long if I have anything to say about it. I’m on my way into Bootlick right now to see an attorney.”

“Old Culpepper?” He relaxed a little, hiding his hurt behind a lazy grin. “Shoot, Kara, he can’t do you any good. Might as well save yourself the time and gasoline.”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it, Murdock. The only way I know to stop this insanity is through a court of law.”

“Hmm. I can think of another way.” Just for effect, or maybe because the fantasies in his head wouldn’t go away, he lifted one finger and stroked the side of her blazing cheek. “Fact is, I was hoping to talk to you about that sometime today. Why don’t we ride into Bootlick later on and have us a talk over chicken-fried steak and a piece of Berta Renick’s homemade coconut pie?”





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