“Burke. What are you doing here?” Louetta asked. Letter to Reader Title Page Dedication About the Author Letter to Reader Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Copyright

“Burke. What are you doing here?” Louetta asked.

He stepped into the aisle, his eyes never leaving her face. “I told you I’d be back.”

In two months, Louetta thought. That’s what he’d said two and a half years ago.

“Do you keep your promises?” Burke asked quietly.

In her mind, she saw Burke as he’d been that April night, winded from his trek into town, devastatingly rugged and handsome. She slipped into his hazel eyes that night, fell into the warmth of his rare smiles. Something soft and warm nudged Louetta from inside, something she might have called hope a long, long time ago.

But she knew she had to find the strength to send Burke on his way. After all, she had to run her diner, attend Ladies’ Aid Society meetings, organize the annual Christmas pageant. And consider marrying a man she didn’t love....

Dear Reader,

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Who wouldn’t want to be Stranded with a Tall, Dark Stranger—especially an embittered ex-cop in need of a good woman’s love? Laura Anthony’s tale of transformation is perfect for the holidays! And speaking of transformations... Hayley Gardner weaves an adorable, uplifting tale of a Grinch-like hero who becomes a Santa Claus daddy when he receives A Baby in His Stocking.

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Happy Holidays!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor, Silhouette Romance

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

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

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

Burke’s Christmas Surprise
Sandra Steffen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Linda Thelen,

a beautiful writer, trustworthy confidant, talented

critiquer and a great phone buddy.

We haven’t actually solved the world’s problems, but

we’ve analyzed most of them.

Merry Christmas.

SANDRA STEFFEN

Her fans tell Sandra how much they enjoy her fictional characters, especially her male fictional characters. That’s not so surprising, because although this award-winning, bestselling author believes every character is a challenge, she has the most fun with the men she creates, whether they’re doctors or cowboys, toddlers or teenagers. Perhaps that’s because she’s surrounded by so many men—her husband, their four sons, her dad, brothers, in-laws. She feels blessed to be surrounded by just as many warm, intelligent and funny women.

Growing up the fourth child of ten in a family of ambitious and opinionated people, she developed a keen appreciation for laughter and argument, for stubborn people with hearts of gold and intelligent people who aren’t afraid of other intelligent people. Sandra lives in Michigan with her husband, three of their sons and a blue-eyed mutt who thinks her name is No-Molly-No. Sandra’s book, Child of Her Dreams, won the 1994 National Readers’ Choice Award. Several of her titles have appeared on national bestseller lists.

Dear Reader,

I love books about babies, because when I read about a bundle of joy, I remember mine. I’ll never forget the wonder of my first baby, of looking into his eyes, and of smelling that amazing newborn scent. It was love at first sight, but it was terror at first sight, too. Oh my gosh! What did I know about caring for someone so tiny and helpless? My husband and I laughed and cried our way through it, and by the time our first was six, we’d presented him with three little brothers. Although we knew a lot more about parenting by then, the wonder of holding each of them for the first time, of looking into their eyes and of smelling their newborn scents, never diminished. Neither did the fear. Oh my gosh! What did I know about caring for someone so tiny and helpless and one or two or three others?

All my bundles of joy are driving now. One has braces, one has an earring and—gulp—all are dating. It’s because of them that my life motto is Never Wait Till. The Last Minute To Worry. I’ve learned that with the worry comes the wonder, for you see, every time I hug them, I’m reminded of how far they’ve come and where they began. So here’s to bundles of joy—those in books, those in our arms and those in our memories.

Sincerely,

Chapter One

Outwardly, not much had changed in Jasper Gulch, South Dakota. But then, it wasn’t the outward changes Burke Kin-caid was concerned about. He pulled in to the last available parking space on Main Street, pushing his car door open before he’d even cut the engine and lights. Snow flurries stung his face as he made a beeline for the diner across the street. He stopped a foot short of the door, one hand on the handle, the other deep in the pocket of his black overcoat. This was it. The moment of truth. The moment he’d been waiting for for two and a half years.

God. Two and a half years.

His arrival was going to be a surprise. Hell, it was going to be a shock. He’d spent many a sleepless night trying to decide how to handle it. He could have called or written. But what could he have said? “Hi, Lily. This is Burke. Burke Kincaid. I don’t know if you remember me or not, but you and I spent one incredibly passionate night together a few years ago, and I was hoping—”

What was he hoping? That she wanted to take up where they’d left off? That she remembered?

He remembered.

Lily’s gray eyes had been filled with dreams, her pale skin prone to blushes that night when he’d hiked into town after running out of gas near the village limits. He’d had every intention of simply using her telephone to call for a lift and a gas can, then continuing on his way to Oklahoma City where he’d planned to visit his half brother. But Lily had smiled at him, and he’d lost all sense of direction, all sense, period. He’d followed her into her tiny kitchen where she was brewing a pot of tea. He supposed that first kiss had been inevitable, being near her in such a tight space. The second had thrown him for a loop, but it was nothing compared to how he’d felt when he’d discovered he was her first lover. She had a body a man could lose himself in, lose his mind over. He would have been back sooner. If only...

No. He’d already spent too much time on “if only.” He couldn’t change the past any more than he could control it. Today was what mattered. Today, and what happened in the next ten minutes.

The bell jingled over the door when he stepped inside the diner. The lights were on, and more than a dozen cowboy hats hung on pegs near the door, but the tables and booths were empty. Following the noise to an open door in the back, Burke entered a room that was nearly bursting with ranchers and cowboys. His gaze immediately searched the handful of women. None was Lily.

A short man with thinning gray hair and intelligent blue eyes rushed over. “Glad you could make it,” Doc Masey said, shaking Burke’s hand.. “Have a good trip?”

“Uneventful,” Burke answered, continuing to search the crowd.

“Good, good.” The old doctor removed his wire-rimmed glasses and painstakingly cleaned them on a white handkerchief he took from his pocket. Holding them up to the light, he said, “My wife used to insist that if she couldn’t see in, I couldn’t see out. Wise woman, God rest her soul.”

Before Burke could do more than nod, the doctor rushed on. “Isn’t usually this much of a hubbub before our town meetings, but tonight our very own rodeo champion is gonna ask one of our local gals to marry him, and a lot of folks have turned out to watch.”

Burke’s second nod was interrupted by a commotion in the front of the room. A man with a limping cowboy swagger strolled to a podium and called, “Folks, would you take your seats so I can get this show on the road?”

Boots thudded and metal chairs creaked as the men and women of Jasper Gulch moseyed to their places. Taking a seat next to Doc Masey, Burke scanned the crowd. There was a lot of whisker stubble, a lot of flannel and faded denim, a lot of indentations in hair where a cowboy hat normally sat. Five rows up and a dozen seats over, a woman with wavy brown hair turned her head slightly.

Lily.

The noise receded and Burke’s thoughts froze. In some far corner of his mind he heard Doc Masey explaining how the town had been dying due to the shortage of women, and how the town council had decided to advertise for women three years ago. The names of some of the gals who had answered that ad meant nothing to Burke; his attention was trained on a woman who had grown up here.

He’d almost convinced himself that his memories had enhanced Lily’s beauty. In reality, his memories hadn’t done her justice. Her skin was as pale as he remembered, her hair was slightly shorter, waving to her shoulders instead of halfway down her back. Her smile was serene, regal. How had so much beauty gone undetected all these years? Were these ranchers and cowboys blind?

He wanted to call her name, imagined smiling as he watched recognition settle across her features. Before he could do more than lean ahead in his chair, the man at the front of the room said, “Louetta, come on up here, darlin’.”

Burke was a little surprised when Lily rose to her feet. By the time she’d wended her way to the front of the room, realization had dawned and any thought he might have had of smiling slid away.

“What’s going on?”

“That’s Wes Stryker,” Doc Masey explained. “He won the national rodeo championship two years running. The last broken bone brought him hobbling home for good. Can’t say I blame him. Trophies and awards aren’t worth a lick compared to the love of a good woman.”

“What does that have to do with Lily?”

“Who?”

Half the crowd shushed the other half. And then Wes Stryker lowered himself stiffly to one knee. Holding his hat over his heart, the former rodeo champion reached for Lily’s hand. Through the roaring din in Burke’s ears, he heard the other man say, “I know I haven’t been around much since we were kids, and I’ve got more aches and pains than men twice my age, but I’m hardworkin’, and I’d be honored if you’d agree to be my wife. What do you say? Will you marry me, Louetta?”

Why was that cowboy calling Lily “Louetta”? Burke swallowed hard and slowly rose to his feet. “That’s going to be difficult,” he called, his voice carrying over the sudden hubbub as all eyes turned to see who had spoken.

“What did he say?”

“Who is that?”

“What does he mean, it’s gonna be difficult?”

Burke’s gaze met Lily’s, and his voice faded, losing its steely edge. “It’s going to be difficult,” he repeated, “because you already promised to marry me.”

“Did he say what I think he said?” one of the old-timers asked.

“Shh,” someone called.

“Shh, yourself.”

Louetta Graham recognized the voices of people she’d known all her life, but she couldn’t drag her gaze from the man in the back of the room. White shirt, wool pants, windblown hair. Burke. With her heart beating against her chest like a sledgehammer on cement, she said, “What are you doing here?”

He stepped sideways into the aisle, his eyes never leaving her face. “I told you I’d be back.”

In two months, Louetta thought, one hand going to her neck. That’s what he’d said two and a half years ago.

“Do you keep your promises?” Burke asked quietly.

Something soft and warm nudged Louetta from inside, something she might have called hope a long, long time ago. Her heart rate quickened, her face grew hot and a traitorous softness drew her attention to the very core of her body. In her mind she saw Burke as he’d been that April night, winded from his trek into town, devastatingly rugged and handsome. She’d slipped into his hazel eyes that night, had fallen into the warmth of his rare smiles. It was happening again. She was losing herself in him, one slow inch at a time.

“What do you say?” Wes Stryker asked, rising stiffly to his feet.

“Yes,” Burke said. “What do you say?”

Louetta couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d known Wes Stryker was going to ask her to marry him tonight. She’d been rehearsing what she was going to say. He was quite a catch for a woman like her. Everyone thought so. He’d returned to Jasper Gulch a few times each year since joining the rodeo circuit when he was fresh out of school. The last set of broken ribs and the dislocated shoulder and sprained ankle he’d gotten after being bucked off and trampled by an ornery bronco had brought him home for good. At thirty-five, he said he was too old, too tired, too worn for the rodeo circuit. Rumor had it that he was looking for a wholesome woman to grow old with, one who wouldn’t run out on him the first time something better came along. Louetta had been as surprised as everyone else when he’d come a-callin’ on her. Wes Stryker didn’t make her heart chug to life, but she was pretty sure he wouldn’t break it, either.

Burke Kincaid had already broken it clean in two.

“Are you gonna marry me?” Wes’s voice finally drew her gaze. Tears blurred her vision and thickened her throat as she stared into his blue eyes. “Are you?” he repeated.

“I—I mean—I thought. But now I d-don’t—” Since stammering was getting her nowhere, she clamped her mouth shut and shrugged helplessly.

“Are you gonna marry him?” Wes asked.

Her gaze shifted from one man to the other. Burke was watching her. His eyes appeared dark from here, his hair mussed, his features striking and strong. Certain her face was beet red, she shrugged all over again.

“Hot dang, Stryker,” Boomer Brown declared from the second row. “It looks like your competin’ days ain’t over after all.”

“That’s right,” someone else declared.

“Yee-haw! Who said nothin’ ever happens in small towns? This has all the makings of a mighty interesting season.”

The dazed expression Wes usually wore these days broke for an instant, a smile spreading across his tired features as he faced the Jasper Gents. “I’m beginning to think this might just be exactly what the doctor ordered.”

“Well, what do ya know about that,” somebody else murmured loud enough for Louetta to hear. “The girl voted most likely not to by her graduating class has two—count ’em—two suitors.”

“Oh, my,” Louetta whispered, searching frantically for a place to sit down while she still had control of her feet.

“Oh, dear,” Isabell Pruitt called in her shrill, nasal voice. “I do believe Louetta is going to faint. Jed, let her have your chair. Hurry.”

Louetta sank into the chair and immediately bent over, placing her head between her knees. “There, there,” Isabell assured her, patting her arm. “That’s it. Take a deep breath. Now another. Oh, I wish your mother were here. She’d have her smelling salts with her. Doc Masey!”

Louetta felt the usual stab of pain at the mention of her mother, but since Isabell missed Opal as much as she did, Louetta tipped her head to one side and said, “I’m pretty sure Mother took her smelling salts with her to heaven. It’s all right, Isabell, I think the worst is over.”

Louetta’s voice sounded distant in her own ears, but her vision was starting to clear and she could feel her heart rate returning to normal. She sat up tentatively, and wavered Isabell a feeble smile.

That’s it, Louetta told herself. You can make it through this without causing a bigger scene.

Mind reeling, she vowed to hold herself together until the meeting ended. Then she would take the time to have the nervous breakdown she deserved. First, she would have to find the strength to send Burke on his way. Maybe then things would get back to normal. She would run her newly purchased diner, spend time with her friends, attend Ladies Aid Society meetings, organize the annual Christmas pageant and consider marrying a man she didn’t love.

That’s it. Take a deep breath. Now another. As soon as this meeting was over, she would tell Burke what she thought of him and his unannounced visit. After that, she would make her way up to her apartment. She would close the door, turn out the lights and pull the blankets over her head.

Luckily, Jasper Gulch town meetings rarely took long. Luke Carson was calling for order right now. Just as she’d thought, old business was taken care of in a matter of minutes. An argument broke out between Bonnie Trumble, who owned Bonnie’s Clip & Curl, and Edith Ferguson, who thought the town should adopt an ordinance concerning the use of certain colors of paint on the buildings lining Main Street. “The beauty parlor is neon green!” Edith exclaimed. “Why, it’s despicable.”

Personally, Louetta liked the new color. It had punch. It had pizzazz. It had personality. It got a person’s attention without saying a word. As a woman who had been a wallflower her entire life, Louetta liked those qualities, even if the beauty shop did stick out like a sore thumb. Thankfully, the issue was tabled until the following month, which meant that the meeting was nearly over.

“Now,” Luke Carson called from the front of the room, “before we adjourn, Doc Masey has something he’d like to say. Doc?”

Chairs creaked as folks folded their arms at their chests and shifted their positions. Louetta stifled a moan, because as much as she loved the old doctor, the man was notorious for making a long story unbearable. She hoped he decided to make an exception tonight. Taking his white handkerchief from his pocket, he began polishing his wire-rimmed spectacles. When he started in about how he’d been a doctor in this town for nigh on fifty years, Louetta closed her eyes and sighed.

Before he’d gotten halfway into his tale of how he’d brought Neil Anderson into the world during a blizzard in ’58, Cletus McCully interrupted. “Doc, I swear you could talk the ears off a deaf man. I ain’t necessarily gonna live forever, ya know. Would you get to the point?”

Another time Louetta might have smiled, but she glanced over her shoulder, straight into Burke’s eyes, and she couldn’t have smiled if her life had depended upon it.

“Burke,” Doc called. “Come on up here, would ya?”

What could Burke possibly have to do with Doc Masey?

Like the quiet before the storm, silence filled the room. Surely Louetta’s heart wasn’t the only one thumping a little wildly at the way Burke carried himself, at the width of his shoulders, the fit of his black pants. However, it was highly likely that she was the only woman who averted her eyes.

“As you all know,” Doc Masey declared, “I’ve been searching for a replacement for a few years now. I’m pleased to say I’ve found one. Looks like he got the jump on me, but I like a man who knows his own mind. Folks, I’d like you to meet my new partner, Dr. Burke Kincaid.”

Louetta’s head came up, her heart rising to her throat. “What did Doc say?” she asked Lisa McCully, the young woman sitting next to her.

“It looks like Doc Masey’s taken on one of your fiancés as a new partner,” Lisa whispered.

“One of my—”

A freight train sounded in Louetta’s ears. The lights went dim, her muscles turned to liquid. And she keeled over in a deep faint.

Louetta came to amid a blur of faces and a whir of voices.

“She fainted, you say?”

“Is she gonna be all right?”

“How would I know? I ain’t no doctor.”

“There’s no need to snap my head off.”

“Boys, would you give me a little room?”

Louetta recognized Doc Masey’s voice. Although she couldn’t quite make out the two cowboys who were stepping out of the way, she could see Isabell hovering over her right shoulder, Doc Masey over her left. Burke’s and Wes’s faces were inches apart, and someone—a quick glance at the masculine hand touching her wrist told her it was Burke—was taking her pulse.

“Are you all right?” His voice was edged in velvet, just as it had been that night two and a half years ago.

“Of course she’s all right. You are all right, aren’t you?” Wes asked.

Louetta nodded and tried to sit up. Had she really fainted before a roomful of people? Lord, her humiliation was nearly complete.

“I’m fine. I’d really like to go up to my apartment now.”

Suddenly Burke was bending down, gliding his arms underneath her, lifting her up. No, she thought, her dark purple skirt hitched up around her thighs, her white sweater askew, her face inches away from his, now her humiliation was complete.

“Please,” she protested, “I can walk.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Isabell sputtered, “put her down this instant. Haven’t you done enough?”

Burke eyed the old biddy over the top of Louetta’s head. As far as he was concerned, he hadn’t done nearly enough. He hadn’t kissed Lily or Louetta or whatever the hell her name was. He hadn’t explained. He had yet to see her smile.

Wes Stryker’s voice cut into Burke’s thoughts. “She said she can walk.”

Reading the challenge in Stryker’s eyes, Burke tightened his grip around Louetta. Wes took a step closer and held Burke’s stare.

“Come on, you two,” insisted a woman with large brown eyes, a sultry voice and a protruding stomach that indicated a baby was due in a month or two. “Why don’t you go shoot some bottles off a fence or duke it out over at the Crazy Horse or do whatever else men do to compete for a woman’s hand. Melody, Jillian and I can take it from here. That okay with you, Louetta?”

As a doctor, Burke supposed the blush on Lily’s cheeks was a good sign. As a man, he didn’t want to let her out of his arms, let alone out of his sight. Since she nodded at the pregnant woman, he didn’t see what choice he had. He lowered her feet to the floor, slowly stepping aside as two women each slid an arm around Lily’s back.

There was a lot of noise all around him as people spoke amongst themselves. Burke stayed where he was, watching Lily walk away, regal even now.

He’d imagined her reaction to his return a hundred times. He would have liked her to welcome him with open arms. He would have settled for a small smile and a shy hello. He supposed he should have known this wasn’t going to be easy. Nothing about the past two and a half years had been easy.

She stopped suddenly in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder, bravely meeting his eyes. Her lips trembled. Although she didn’t smile, a look passed between them. He swallowed, but it only made him aware of the pulsing sensation in his throat and the growing pressure much lower.

Burke could feel all eyes on him, and he knew that this wasn’t the time or the place to say what he’d come here to say. Meeting her serious expression with a serious expression of his own, he said, “We’ll talk later.”

Her throat convulsed on a swallow. Neither nodding nor shaking her head, she allowed the other women to lead her away.

“For a doctor, you have lousy timing.”

Burke glanced at the man who had spoken. Wes Stryker looked the way a person would expect an ex-rodeo champion to look, all cheekbones and squint lines and stiff joints, rugged and haggard at the same time. Burke wondered if Lily was in love with the man. While he was at it, he wondered if it was possible that she was still in love with him. Releasing a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, Burke squared off opposite the other man. “Maybe, but I’m told I have a good bedside manner.”

Stryker’s eyes narrowed. “I’m more concerned about your in-bed manner.”

“Sorry. I don’t kiss and tell.”

The other man’s eyebrows rose slightly, and Burke sensed a grudging respect in Wes Stryker’s expression.

“You gonna step aside, Wes,” somebody called from behind, “and let the new doctor run roughshod over you?”

Wes shook his head. “It looks like Boomer was right. My competin’ days aren’t over after all.”

Burke accepted the challenge, along with the hand Wes held out to him. Wes’s knuckles were bony, his palm callused, his grip bordering on painful. Squaring his jaw, Burke squeezed the other man’s hand in return.

Wes grunted. “May the best man win.”

Burke nodded stiffly, tightening his own grip. “Believe me,” he said, wondering whose bones would crack first, “I intend to.”

Bets were made among the other men. The old biddy who’d helped Lily earlier insisted that this was exactly the kind of thing the Ladies Aid Society had been afraid would happen. A few old-timers grumbled that folks needed a little fun and excitement now and then, and the meeting was finally adjourned. Burke and Wes might have gone on shaking hands all night if Doc Masey and another old man with white whiskers and tattered suspenders hadn’t broken them up.

The man on the right snapped one suspender and rocked back on the heels of worn cowboy boots. “Name’s Cletus McCully. Looks like you and Wes are evenly matched. That’s gonna make things more interesting, that’s for sure. Tell us, boy, where are you from?”

Refusing to give in to the impulse to cradle his right hand in his left one, Burke met the old codger’s inquisitive stare. “I grew up in northern Washington. My practice was in Seattle.”

“Ah, you must have met our Louetta when she went with her mother to that cancer research hospital last year. Didn’t do much good. Opal died right on schedule. She raised Louetta by herself, you know.”

No, Burke hadn’t known. And that wasn’t where he’d met Louetta. Since Cletus McCully didn’t need to know that, Burke held the old man’s piercing stare a few seconds longer, then strode out to the sidewalk with the country doctor.

The snowflakes were getting bigger, the air colder. Several men jaywalked across the street and disappeared inside what appeared to be the town’s only bar. Burke glanced up at the lighted window in the small apartment over the diner.

Following the course of Burke’s gaze, Doc Masey said, “Looks like you have more reasons than one for taking this job.”

Burke nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

The ensuing silence didn’t deter Doc Masey in the least. “No matter what the boys say, I don’t like the looks of this. It has trouble written all over it. Two men. One woman. Nope. Don’t like the looks of it one bit.”

“She’s not just any woman,” Burke said quietly.

“You love her.”

It was a statement, not a question, but Burke found himself nodding anyway. “Until I met her, I didn’t know I was capable. But yes, I love her. I have since the day I met her.”

“There’ll be hell to pay if you hurt her.”

Inhaling a deep breath of cold November air, Burke could hardly blame the old doctor for the warning. Miles Masey wasn’t stupid. Everyone had seen how Lily had reacted to Burke’s arrival. A person didn’t faint for no reason. Although they obviously didn’t know the circumstances, Burke had already hurt her. Oh, he’d had good reasons. The question was, would she be able to forgive him?

Tucking his chin inside the collar of his black overcoat, he accepted the key from Doc Masey’s outstretched hand and turned down the old man’s offer to escort him to his new residence. He was perfectly capable of getting settled into his new place by himself. Once he was settled, he would find Lily, or Louetta, or whatever folks around here called her. And he would try to explain.

Chapter Two

“Were those footsteps I heard on the stairs?”

Louetta pushed the cool cloth off her forehead and swung her feet over the side of her flowered sofa. Sitting up, she pretended not to notice the looks Lisa McCully and Melody and Jillian Carson cast one another.

“I didn’t hear a thing,” Melody said, taking her turn checking the stairs.

“Me, neither,” Lisa agreed, trying to find a comfortable position on the rocking chair across the room.

Jillian simply smiled encouragingly at Louetta, who dropped her face into her hands in defeat. In her defense, there had been footsteps on the stairs when Isabell, Doc Masey and a few of the members of the Ladies Aid Society had come up to check on her. The last visitor had left more than an hour ago, and Louetta was beginning to worry she was hearing things.

“Goodness gracious, I’m a wreck. Worse, I’m probably the talk of the town.”

“Everyone’s the talk of Jasper Gulch,” Melody said, toying with a strand of shoulder-length blond hair as she dropped onto a cushion on the floor. “Folks still talk about the time I dressed up in platform shoes, a skirt up to here and a shirt down to there to teach Clayt a lesson.”

Brown eyes flashing, Lisa declared, “And after word got out that Wyatt and I were trying to have a baby, folks stopped me on the street to ask if I was pregnant yet. You wouldn’t believe some of the advice I got. Why, Mertyl Gentry, of all people, told me to try standing on my head in a corner, after, well, you get the picture.”

Jillian Carson brushed her wispy red hair off her forehead and leaned ahead in her chair. “Is that how junior here came about?”

Laughing, Lisa said, “Junior here came to be because of her daddy’s philosophy. ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.’”

Even Louetta forgot about her discomfiture long enough to laugh at that one. Some people took friendships for granted. Not her. Until Jillian and Lisa had moved to Jasper Gulch, Louetta’s only friends had been the members of the Ladies Aid Society, women who were closer to her mother’s age than hers. Although Melody had been three or four years behind Louetta in school, she was one of the few people in town who had always made it a point to give Louetta more than a nod in passing. Still, they hadn’t become good friends until a few years ago when Louetta had gotten up her courage and had taken that first painful step out of her shell.

Lisa, Melody and Jillian had all brought laughter into Louetta’s life, but Melody was the one Louetta felt closest to. The two of them had grown up right here in a town chock-full of rugged cowboys and ranchers. And the two of them had been overlooked by each and every one of those cowboys and ranchers for years. Melody had finally snagged the man she’d been in love with all her life. Now she and Clayt Carson had eleven-year-old Haley, and two little boys, twenty-two-month-old Jordan and newborn Slade.

When Louetta had first decided it was up to her to fill the lonely gaps in her own life, she’d been convinced that a few wonderful friends was the most she could hope for. It was certainly more than she’d dreamed she’d have. And then Burke had driven into town. She’d heard stories and whispers about a kind of magic that could sweep a woman right off her feet when the right man came along. Burke had swept into her apartment to use her phone. To this day she couldn’t remember how she’d gone from fixing a pot of tea to helping him out of his clothes. Lord, she still blushed when she thought of how totally out of character her behavior had been.

There hadn’t been a doubt in her mind that she’d fallen in love. At the time, she’d thought he’d felt the same....

“Earth to Louetta.”

“She’s either thinking about a man or—”

“Sex. She’s thinking about sex.”

Once Louetta’s vision cleared, the expressions on her friends’ faces were enough to send a blush to her cheeks. Melody, Jillian and Lisa were a godsend. No doubt about that. At the moment they were all far too perceptive for her peace of mind.

“Were those footsteps I heard on the stairs?” Louetta asked again, straining to hear.

After Lisa had taken her turn checking, Louetta said, “I’m really sorry about this. And I appreciate everything the three of you have done. I’m fine now, and I think you should go home to your husbands and—” she looked at Melody and Jillian “—your children.”

After ten minutes’ worth of reassurances from Louetta that she was really and truly over her fainting spell, the other three women finally left. Alone, Louetta wandered through the tiny apartment she’d been living in these past three years. Tilting the blinds, she peered down at Main Street. A handful of cars were parked in front of the Crazy Horse Saloon across the street, but not a soul was in sight.

Although the time of year had been different, the street had looked this way that night two and a half years ago, too. Arms folded at her waist, Louetta had been looking out the window when she’d noticed a man walking down the middle of the street. His gait was different from that of the ranchers and cowboys who lived around here. And yet, as she’d opened the window and leaned out, fear hadn’t crossed her mind.

“Can I help you?” she’d called.

He’d stopped and glanced around, slowly raising his head. Dressed in dark clothes, a long black coat and city shoes, his tall, broad-shouldered frame had cast a herculean shadow.

“I seem to have run out of gas near the village limits,” he’d said, the wind ruffling through his dark hair.

Something must have been in the air, or in his eyes, because suddenly Louetta had felt like Rapunzel or some other beautiful fairy-tale princess. “I don’t own a car, but I could go back to the wedding reception being held in the town hall and ask one of the local men to give you a lift and a can of gas if you’re sure that’s what’s wrong.”

He’d shrugged sheepishly, and had taken a few steps closer. Lowering his voice as if revealing a secret, he’d said, “I know men are supposed to be mechanically inclined, but I really hate engines. Could you just point me in the direction of the nearest gas station?”

Butterflies had fluttered in Louetta’s stomach. Not just a few, but an entire flock of them. It made her bold and daring and giddy. “Nothing’s open this time of night,” she’d answered. “But you can use my phone if you want to call a wrecker in Pierre.”

She’d directed him around to the back, and she’d let him in, taking the steps to her apartment ahead of him. She’d expected there to be long, tension-filled stretches of silence. After all, she was Louetta Graham, the shiest woman on the planet. But the smile he’d slanted her way had broken through her horrible timidness, and the butterflies in her stomach had moved over to make room for another sensation entirely. Some people would have called it attraction. She’d called it magic.

It had to be magic. It was the only explanation she’d been able to come up with for the way she’d been able to talk to him, and laugh with him, and make love with him. She’d fallen in love that night. There was no doubt about that. Her doubts had come later, when he’d failed to return.

She’d believed him when he’d promised to come back as soon as he’d taken care of business back home. “Two months, no more,” he’d whispered huskily, lingering over his goodbye kiss.

Ah, yes, she’d believed him, heart and soul. She’d waited patiently those two months, but as the days had turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, her heart had broken and her dreams had been lost.

She’d been naive for a thirty-three-year-old woman, and yet, after that one night with Burke, she’d never felt more like a woman in her life. A searing loneliness stabbed at her. She hadn’t felt that way again in all the time he’d been gone.

Staring at the lighted window of the Crazy Horse Saloon across the street, Louetta knew that seeing Burke again was what had brought so many dark emotions back to the surface. She hadn’t been able to help the tiny flicker of hope that had sprung to life when he’d said they would talk later. That had been three hours ago. He wasn’t going to come. When would she learn?

She had learned, she told herself. She wasn’t the same woman she’d been two and a half years ago. Thank heavens. Day by day, she’d replaced her quiet hopelessness with determination. Bit by bit, she’d realized she liked the new Louetta Graham. She might always be shy, but she was less introverted. And she’d finally struck out on her own. She’d purchased the diner and her apartment. She was slowly becoming an active member of the community. She had friends and she had goals. Some were far-reaching. Others pertained to today.

No more blushing every time she remembered how it had felt to be in Burke’s arms.

No more reliving every detail of the night they’d met.

No more silly daydreams about what might have been.

No more waiting on pins and needles and listening for footsteps on the stairs.

“Hello, Lily.”

She spun around, the hand that had flown to her throat slowly falling to her side. Burke stood in her doorway, the light in the hallway throwing his shadow into the room. She closed her eyes. When he was still there when she opened them again, she willed her heart to settle back into its rightful place. Darn him for unraveling so many of her vows in the blink of an eye. Darn him, dam him, darn him.

“May I come in?”

She found herself nodding, but she couldn’t force any words past the knot in her throat.

“The place looks good,” he said, folding his overcoat over the back of a chair. “Different. It suits you better now.”

Darn him, dam him, dam him for saying the one thing in all the world that could soften her resolve. She’d been living in this apartment for three years, but she’d purchased it only a year ago, after Melody had learned that she and Clayt were expecting a second child close on the heels of their first. Louetta had welcomed the opportunity to buy the diner, using the money her dear mother had left her after she’d died. At first, painting and wallpapering had been something to do to fill Louetta’s time now that her mother was gone. Nobody had been more surprised than Louetta when she’d discovered she had a flair for decorating. And nobody was more proud of their home.

“How are you feeling?”

He was probably referring to her fainting episode, but at the moment she didn’t care. “Fine, and you? I mean, you look pretty good for somebody who just woke up from a coma or was released from prison in some third-world country.”

He nodded stiffly. “I deserved that. I thought about calling. Writing. I’m afraid it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission.”

Louetta held very still, grappling with her conscience. Asking him to sit down would have been the polite thing to do. The old Louetta had been nothing if not polite. Folding the afghan Lisa had used earlier, Louetta reminded herself that the old Louetta was gone. Thank God. And although few people could put their finger on exactly what had changed, she was aware of the differences.

“Yes, well, the easy way isn’t always the right way,” she said stoically.

He’d strolled to the other side of the room, where a shelf held several photographs. He turned slowly, and she couldn’t help noticing how easily he moved. There was an air of efficiency about him. It was there in the way he shortened the distance between them, in the way he spoke, in the way he looked at her.

“No matter what you think, I didn’t take the easy way out two years ago.” He started to continue, stopped and tried again. “I know this is awkward,” he said quietly.

She nodded again. Strangely, there hadn’t been any awkwardness between them the first time they’d met. Of course, two and a half years of soul-searching, of waiting and hoping and not knowing hadn’t been between them then.

“What are you doing here, Burke?”

Burke opened his mouth to speak, but his gaze flicked over her, and he forgot what he was going to say. She’d been wearing a simple cotton dress, prim and proper in every way, the first time they’d met. Although the skirt and sweater she was wearing tonight weren’t blatantly sexy, they fit her body perfectly, accentuating instead of hiding. “You’re as pretty as a picture.”

For a moment he thought she was going to smile. Instead, she tucked a wavy strand of hair behind her ear and made a disparaging sound. “You and Wes could both use a lesson in originality.”

For a moment, Burke’s brow furrowed. But then he noticed the poinsettia plant sitting on the low table in front of him, and understanding dawned. “Stryker’s already sent you flowers?”

She shrugged. “It has all the markings of the Crazy Horse crowd.”

“Mind if I read the card?”

“Be my guest.”

It took Burke longer to reach for the card than it did to read the poem written in a man’s messy scrawl. “Roses are red, violets are like paint. I got you these flowers, but a poet I ain’t.”

Burke made a derisive sound. “You’re considering marrying a man who writes poetry like that?”

Louetta’s head came up, vexation flashing in her eyes. “Wes is a rodeo rider, not a writer.”

Shaking his head, Burke couldn’t help remembering the summer his stepbrother had spent reciting “There Once Was a Man from Oklahoma.” Glancing at the card, he said, “I suppose it contains a certain sincerity.”

“Wes Stryker is very sincere.”

Burke didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. He’d come here to try to explain. The last thing he wanted to talk about was Lily’s relationship with another man.

But Lily was pacing on the other side of the room, talking as she went. “Wes was one of the few people who didn’t tease the living daylights out of me when we were kids. He always had an easygoing smile and a kind disposition.”

“How long have you and Stryker been an item?”

“I’ve been seeing him for several weeks now.”

“Do you love him?” Burke caught a whiff of her perfume, and the question he wanted to ask—Do you love me?—went unsaid.

“That’s none of your business, Burke.”

He was across the room in a flash, the coffee table with its scraggly red plant and hand-written card the only thing separating them. “Maybe not,” he said, his voice deceptively low. “That doesn’t mean I’m not curious. Have you ever awakened him in the middle of the night with a whisper and a strategically placed kiss?”

Everything inside Louetta went perfectly still. Her cheeks were probably flaming. For once, she didn’t care. Darn him for reminding her of how wanton she’d been that night. Darn him for stretching her emotions tighter with every passing second. Darn him for making her aware of a warming sensation low in her belly. Darn him, darn him, dam him.

“This may come as a surprise to you,” she said, turning her back to Burke as she stared unseeing out the window. “But I don’t hop into bed with every man who leaves a five-dollar tip.”

“I never said you did, dammit.”

She turned slowly, her skirt swishing around her knees, a lock of hair falling onto her forehead. There was a quiver in her fingertips as she smoothed the tresses out of her eyes. She’s changed, Burke thought. Her voice was as soft as always, her eyes the same gray he remembered. The blame in them, however, was brand-new.

He’d hurt her. And she’d found him guilty without hearing his explanation, his reasons. He didn’t really blame her. Two and a half years was a long time. No one knew that better than he did.

There was no excuse for the need running through him, no excuse for the determination to change her mind. No excuse except he wanted her. No matter what she thought, what had happened between them hadn’t been all his doing. Two and a half years ago she’d changed his plans for the evening with one heart-stopping smile. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to see her smile at him like that again.

“Would you tell me something?” he asked.

It probably took a lot of courage to meet his gaze the way she did. It required a lot of strength on his part to keep his feet planted where they were. “Would you have said yes to Stryker’s proposal if I hadn’t shown up tonight?”

Her shoulders stiffened, her back straightened. “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but I was thinking about telling Wes ‘maybe.’ He would have made a joke out of that in front of everyone. He’s very patient, and very funny.” She stopped, gazing into the distance. “And very honest. I don’t believe he’s ever told a real lie.”

Burke felt something he didn’t much like uncoil deep inside him. Jealousy, anger and finally, grim acceptance. “Sounds like a hell of a guy,” he declared. “Lily.”

Reaching for his coat, he turned on his heel.

The door closed just short of a slam, Burke’s footsteps on the stairs echoing through Louetta’s small apartment. Lowering her hands from her cheeks, she stared at the door, wondering how she could have failed to hear the thud of footsteps when Burke had arrived.

Up until the moment he’d uttered that last word, she’d thought the meeting was going quite well, all things considered. The conversation may have been a little stilted, but at least she’d kept from blurting out how she’d waited for him during those first months when she’d believed he would return, how she’d died a little more inside with every passing week. She’d kept her feelings inside, remaining strong throughout the entire conversation.

And then he’d gone and called her Lily.

Her feet carried her to the window as if they had a mind of their own. She didn’t want to watch Burke walk away, but she couldn’t help herself. She remembered how he’d looked up at her from the middle of the street that long-ago April night. Tonight he used the sidewalk, his strides long and powerful. He’d put on his coat, but he hadn’t bothered to button it, the wind billowing the dark fabric behind him. Tonight he didn’t look back.

“Lily, ”she’d whispered the night they’d met. “My name is Lily Graham.”

He’d shaken her hand, his smile one of wonder, his touch simple, natural, undemanding and just firm enough to let her know he was glad to be with her. Simple or not, it had started a fire in her, and had caused her to do and say things she’d never done and said before.

She would never forget how deep his voice had dipped when he’d told her the name suited her. She would never forget how it had sounded when he’d murmured it in the dark of night and in the wee hours of the morning.

Lily hadn’t been a painfully shy woman who’d been voted “the girl most likely not to” by the boys in her graduating class. They’d thought it was funny, but it had hurt, just as a thousand other small things had hurt. Her shyness had been a handicap most of her life, one that Louetta had learned to endure, just as she’d learned to hold her head high. Lily had been all woman, sure of herself and her rightful place in the universe.

Oh, Burke. Why did you have to come back and remind me of everything I’ve been missing all these years?

“Lily, ” Burke had said tonight.

She lowered her head in shame, and wished with all her heart that she was half the woman Lily had been.

One second the cup was in Louetta’s hand, the next second it shattered on the floor. She saw it happening, yet she still jumped a mile.

“Slippery little buggers, aren’t they?” red-haired Jason Tucker, a twenty-three-year-old ranch hand who could blush as darkly as Louetta, said with a boyish grin.

Nodding, she scooted down to her haunches to pick up the pieces of the second item she’d broken that morning. She was a wreck, that was all there was to it. At this rate, she was going to need another set of dishes by suppertime.

Jed Harley had been very understanding about the milk she’d spilled in his lap, and Boomer Brown hadn’t said anything when he’d gotten a saucer full of coffee along with his refill, although his wife, DoraLee, the owner of the Crazy Horse Saloon and Louetta’s least likely friend, studied Louetta’s face and cast her an understanding smile. Cletus McCully ate without complaining about the eggs she’d scorched, although he did mention that she was as jumpy as a cat on hot bricks.

He was right. She nearly sprang straight into the air every time the bell jangled over the door.

She had no doubt that every one of the usual breakfast crowd noticed her skittishness. They probably attributed it to nerves at the thought of shy little Louetta Graham having two suitors. They had no way of knowing about the guilt sitting like a rock in the middle of her swirling stomach.

Leaving the diners to sip their coffee and mull over their gossip, she used extra care busing the rest of the tables. She felt a headache coming on as she carried the tub of dishes into the kitchen and promptly turned on the tap.

“Girl, ya got a minute?”

“Cletus!” Louetta nearly came out of her skin, the dishes in her hand splashing as she dropped them into the water. “Yes, yes, of course. What is it?”

The old man snapped his suspenders and did such a poor job of pretending to be interested in the fifty-year-old oven that Louetta would have smiled if she’d been physically able.

Choosing a different tack, he shook his craggy old head and glanced at the door. “I’m hiding from those...those manhandlers.

Dropping the clean forks and knives she’d just washed into the rinse water, Louetta heaved a big sigh, but at least she could manage a semblance of a smile. “Are Gussie and Addie Cunningham putting the moves on you again, Cletus?”

“The moves! Jumpin’ catfish, those two women are more wily than sailors and just as determined. What’s worse, they don’t know the meaning of the word no.”

Louetta lowered a stack of plates into the deep, stainless steel sink. Gussie Cunningham and her sister Addie had moved to town a couple of years ago, not long after they won the lottery in Wisconsin where they used to live. They were both eccentric, without a doubt. Slightly over sixty and still single, they claimed they were just good old gals who were looking for decent men to call their own.

Up to her elbows in soapsuds, Louetta said, “They’re lonely, Cletus. Neither of them means any harm.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t mean them any harm, either, but sometimes desperate situations call for desperate measures. And if you don’t mind, I think I’ll hide out in here for a while. I used to help Melody out now and again, you know. When she had to run an errand, or step out for a minute, I mean, or do something about whatever was causing her to lose sleep at night.”

Louetta stopped. Staring past the lines in Cletus’s face, into knowing brown eyes, she said, “What makes you think there’s someplace else I want to go?”

“Isn’t there?”

There was no use wondering how the man could have known. Cletus McCully wasn’t much taller than Louetta’s five feet seven inches. And yet he was a very big man. Swallowing the lump that came out of nowhere, Louetta closed her eyes and called for courage. Opening them again, she reached behind her back and untied her apron. She handed it to Cletus, and at the last minute kissed his lined cheek. “I know where Melody got her heart.”

“Don’t go gettin’ maudlin on me, girl. And if you slip out the back, nobody has to know you’re gone.”

Louetta dried her hands on a towel, slipped her coat from the peg by the door. Before she lost her nerve, she stepped into the back alley and headed for a certain doctor’s office on Custer Street.

Burke was wandering. Pacing was more like it. The furnished apartment attached to the doctor’s office was part of the deal he’d worked out with Doc Masey before agreeing to move to Jasper Gulch. It wasn’t the rain that had made his decision to leave Seattle so easy. He’d been feeling dissatisfied, at loose ends, unconnected to his life there for a long time. A thirty-five-year-old doctor in a prestigious city hospital, he’d felt more like a paper shuffler than a physician. Ever since he’d been stranded in this quaint, one-horse town, the idea. of treating the same patients for years on end, of making house calls and delivering babies who would grow up and bring their babies to him had become a fantasy. Of course, in his fantasy Lily had welcomed him back with open arms.

There was no woman named Lily. She’d been a daydream, a myth. Louetta was real. And Louetta was a lot more stubborn than he’d expected. Hell, she acted as if his soul was darkened by sins, stained by mistakes.

Oh, he’d made his share of mistakes in his life, there was no doubt about that. He wondered what measure God used to gauge a person’s wrongs. Was a sin a sin? Or did good intentions balance difficult decisions? Because he’d had the best of intentions. Look where they’d gotten him.

Once he’d arrived back in Seattle two and a half years ago, and he’d faced the fact that he couldn’t return to Jasper Gulch, he’d done everything he could to put thoughts of Lily out of his mind. They’d returned when he’d least expected them, unbidden, real enough to touch.

Hell, it was happening right now. He was thirty-five years old. Way too old to be paralyzed by sexual impulses in the middle of the morning. Pacing to the desk, he yanked on the lid of a box filled with books and immediately began placing them on a high shelf. A knock sounded on the door behind him. Continuing his task, he called, “Come on in, Doc. The door’s open.”

The doorknob jiggled, and the door creaked open.

“Back from your house call so soon?” Burke called without looking.

The room, all at once, was very quiet. Turning, he found Lily standing in the open doorway, the light of a gray November morning behind her, the purse in her hands clutched so tightly her knuckles were white.

“Come in,” he said, his voice a low rumble in the still room.

She wet her lips nervously. “I can’t stay. I wanted you to know that my name is Louetta. But my father always called me Lily.”

During the time they’d been apart, Burke had remembered everything about Lily with a clarity that had surprised him. He saw inside her with that same clarity right now. She was scared. Why shouldn’t she be? He’d hurt her. The fact that he couldn’t have lived with himself if he’d chosen any other way didn’t matter. He’d hurt her, and she was none too sure he wouldn’t hurt her again.

“I should have known you wouldn’t lie,” he said, placing a medical book back in the cardboard box.

Her lips parted and she blinked. God, he loved disconcerting her, loved the heat in her eyes and the blush on her cheeks. Something powerful took hold inside him, something elemental, earthy and a lot more pleasant than his earlier frustration. With one hand on his hip and the other in his pocket, he took a step toward her.

The backward step Louetta took was automatic. Good grief. She’d said what she’d come here to say. Now what?

“Well. Er. Um.” She nearly groaned out loud. What in tarnation had happened to her good sense? “I should be going.”

“So soon?”

The fact that Burke was steadily moving closer wasn’t helping her equilibrium. As one moment stretched to two, she grasped the first excuse that popped into her head. “Isabell usually stops in at the diner about this time of the morning. She’s been lonely since Mother died, and she’ll worry if I’m not there.”

“Does Isabell know about us, Louetta?” he said as if trying the name out on his tongue.

Louetta was accustomed to the ever-changing sounds of the breezes that blew here in South Dakota, but she doubted she’d ever be able to hear the sound of the wind after midnight again without being reminded of Burke. His voice was like that wind, a deep sigh, a gentle moaning, a slow sweep across her senses.

“Does she?” he asked again, more quietly than before.

Although it required a conscious effort to pull herself together, she straightened her back and raised her chin a fraction of an inch. Meeting Burke’s steady gaze, she said, “Don’t worry, Burke. I didn’t broadcast our little tryst.”

“Is that how you would describe what happened between us? As a tryst?”

A dozen possibilities scrambled through her mind, confusing her even more. “How would you describe it?” she asked.

There was an inherent determination in the set of his chin and a hungry light in his eyes as he said, “It was a damn sight more than that.”

His arms were around her before she could take another backward step, and she knew, even before his lips covered hers, that he was going to kiss her.

Chapter Three

Burke moved so fast Louetta’s breath caught, her lips parting on a gasp that turned into a sigh the instant his lips covered hers. His arms were strong, the body beneath his charcoal gray sweater warm and solid. She must have closed her eyes, because she couldn’t see a thing. But she could feel, and Burke’s lips were wet, his chest broad, his heartbeat strong beneath her palm that had somehow come to be pressed between their bodies.

Everything inside her started to swirl together in a slow, heavy spiral, all her thoughts turned to oblivion, all her needs became one. The same thing had happened the first time they’d met. One kiss and she’d been lost, one embrace and she’d craved more. At the time, she hadn’t even known what she was craving. Now she knew. And knowing made her need greater and her heart feel more tender at the same time.

She hadn’t been aware that they were moving until she felt the cool wall at her back. And then Burke’s hands were sliding down her spine, her sweater bunching in his fingers as he pressed her ever closer. His response was unmistakable, her groan of pleasure insuppressible, erupting on a gasp and a sigh.

Need pounded through Burke, dangerous, powerful. He was holding on to Lily tight, with everything he had, and he was still coming apart at the seams. Lord, she was sweet, her breath hot, her hands insistent. And her body, well, it was almost beyond description, her breasts so full and soft, her legs so long, her lips so eager. Her hands spread wide over the fabric of his dress slacks, down the backs of his thighs, and back up again. Desire seared a path from one end of his body to another, making his heart race and all but explode.

He knew he had to stop. He was trying to stop. He never wanted to stop.

Some force had him tangling his fingers in her hair, sending her hair clip tumbling to the floor. The same force had him pulling her hard against him, trying to bury himself in the softness of her body. “Oh, Lily, I’ve missed you.”

The moment those words registered on Louetta’s dizzied senses, her eyes opened, and she tensed. She wasn’t certain what brought reality crashing all around her—the fact that Burke had called her Lily, or the reminder that there had been two and a half years between them. Two and a half years of wondering, of thinking the worst and wishing for a miracle.

As if sensing her disquietude, he took a shuddering breath. She pulled away a little more, and he let her. She made her escape, deftly sidestepping out of his arms and hurrying across the room. “I have to go.”

“Stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Lily.” And then quieter, more unsure. “Louetta. Wait.” He stopped a few feet away, as if uncertain how close he dared to trod. “I’m glad you came by.”

Averting her gaze, she said, “I wanted a clear conscience. I didn’t intend...” Her voice trailed away. Honest to Pete, if she blushed, she swore she would walk out the door and not stop until she’d reached the state line.

“I’m glad about that, too,” he said quietly.

Her gaze flew to his, and a zing went through her. It happened every time she looked at him, temporal temptation written all over his face. Burke claimed he was glad to see her, glad to have held her. He claimed he’d missed her. Maybe he had. That didn’t erase all the pain and loneliness she’d lived with since the night she’d spent with him. He’d had no business kissing her this morning. And she’d had no business responding, not if she wanted to keep the tenacious hold on her pride, not to mention on her heart. Okay. She couldn’t change what had happened. He’d kissed her, and she’d let him, for the plain and simple reason that it had felt good. That didn’t mean she had to turn all poetic and imagine that she’d found heaven in his arms. There was nothing heavenly or poetic about pain, disillusionment and a broken heart.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

She supposed there was a little consolation in the fact that his voice sounded as shaky as she felt. “I can’t.”

He reached down and in one lithe movement scooped her purse and the plain ivory barrette off the floor where she hadn’t even realized they had fallen. Handing them to her, he said, “You can’t?”

She tucked the purse underneath her arm and took the clip into her palm. “I have plans.”

“Plans.”

She nodded.

There was an edge to his voice when he said, “Could you be a little more specific?”

“I have a date.”

“With Stryker?”

“With Wes. Yes.”

“You’re going out with him after the way you just kissed me?”

Louetta started to shift away from the heavy hint of reproach in his voice, but she caught herself. Bristling, she declared, “I didn’t kiss you. You kissed me.” With a flip of her hair over her shoulder and a swing of her hips, she turned around and strode straight out of his house.

Burke watched her from the door, cold wind blowing through his clothes. “Where are you going?” he called to her back.

She spun around so fast her wavy hair twirled into her face. “Back to the diner.”

“I mean tonight. With Stryker.”

He could see her trying to make sense of the question. She pushed her hair away from her face, pulled the lapels of her coat together and shifted her weight to one foot. Eyebrows raised suspiciously, she said, “We’re going to a steak house in Pierre. Why?”

Burke held up both hands innocently. “No reason.”

With a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head, she stalked away. He stayed where he was, watching. The woman had a walk that could stop traffic. She also had a temper. She has changed, he thought. Even more surprising—he liked it.

He waited to close the door until she was out of sight. Although the sun wasn’t shining, the room seemed brighter somehow, the air more fragrant. There was no doubt about it; the day had just gotten better. He didn’t appreciate the fact that Lily was seeing Stryker tonight, but no matter what she said about who’d kissed whom, her response had been an encouraging step in the right direction.

He was a patient man. A doctor couldn’t survive without it. Hell, he couldn’t have survived his family without patience. Louetta had a date with Stryker tonight. Well, well, well. It was up to Burke to make sure her mind was on the right man. Humming under his breath, he opened the directory and picked up the phone.

Louetta made it back to the diner in record time. She hung up her coat with one hand and reached for a clean apron with the other. Glancing at the stack of clean dishes Cletus was in the process of drying, she smiled and headed for the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

Her smile slipped a little as every eyebrow in the place rose in quiet speculation. Reaching for the coffee carafe, she filled the Anderson brothers’ cups and moved on to the next table where Wes was in the process of taking a seat across from Boomer and DoraLee Brown.

“Mornin’, Lou.”

“Hi, Wes,” she answered, her smile returning as he pulled another bouquet from behind his back. “You didn’t have to bring me more flowers,” she admonished, taking the pink carnations in her empty hand.

The dazed look Wes usually wore these days cleared. Eyeing her as if he was trying to figure something out, he said, “You alone in the kitchen?”

She glanced over her shoulder, catching DoraLee’s eye on the way by. “Cletus is helping with the dishes. Why?”

“Old Cletus McCully?” Wes sputtered, his gaze homing in on her mouth.

“Is there a young Cletus McCully, sugar?” DoraLee asked.

As if deciding he must have imagined something, Wes said, “Aren’t you gonna read the card?”

She placed the carafe on the table and opened the small card. “Roses are red. Daisies are sunny. You’re much nicer than any rodeo bunny.”

“That’s sweet, Wes.” She automatically placed her fingertips over her mouth, which in turn automatically reminded her of how her lips had tingled when Burke had kissed her. Suddenly flustered, she said something about putting the flowers in water and hurried into the kitchen. Thankful that Cletus was going about what he’d been doing, she took a moment to reorient herself. She was feeling much calmer by the time she took a pitcher off a shelf and filled it with water, adding the bouquet of flowers one stern at a time. “The coast’s clear, Cletus. Gussie and Addie are gone.”

“Hallelujah.”

Eyeing all the clean dishes, she said, “No wonder they’re both after you. Not only are you handsome and witty, but you do dishes, too.”

Cletus McCully blanched. “If you’re trying to rattle me, it’s working.”

“This must be the day for being rattled,” she muttered under her breath. “Can I ask you something, Cletus?” she said, placing the pitcher filled with carnations on the counter.

He nodded his craggy head one time.

“Is my sweater on backward, or is my hair a mess, or have I grown a third eye or something?”

He looked her up and down as only a man could. “Your hair’s a little windblown, and I ain’t used to seeing it down around your shoulders, but everything seems to be in the right place. Why?”

“Well, everybody’s looking at me as if—never mind.”

Cletus slapped his towel on the counter. Making a tsk, tsk, tsk sound, he headed for the door. “You look fine. Pretty. Like a woman who’s recently been thoroughly kissed.”

The door swung closed behind him. This time it was Louetta who blanched.

She didn’t move until the door had stopped swinging on its hinges. Merciful heavens. She had been thoroughly kissed. She’d had no idea it showed. No wonder everybody was looking at her strangely.

Louetta Graham simply didn’t know how to handle this kind of attention, this kind of speculation. There was something to be said for being a wallflower, for blending in with the scenery. No, she told herself, putting the stacked dishes on the shelves where they belonged. Going unnoticed by people she’d known all her life had been a lonely way to exist. It had taken courage to make a stand three years ago. It had taken courage to dig her way out of her shell. She couldn’t slide back in now, when she’d come so far.

The old Louetta would have taken the cowardly way out and stayed in the kitchen until everyone left. The new Louetta had no room in her life for craven tendencies and faintheartedness. Taking a deep breath, she pushed through the swinging door.

She let out a little yelp as a man swooped in front of her and pulled her to him the second she entered the room. “Wes,” she exclaimed, watching in dismay as his face descended to hers.

His kiss had come out of the blue, which pretty much described the color of his eyes and the wink he gave her moments later. “There,” he said, sauntering toward the door. “Might as well keep the gossips on their toes, don’tcha think? I’ll see you tonight, Lou.”

Louetta stared after him, one hand over her mouth, the other over her heart. She knew her cheeks were flaming. And she knew everyone was looking at her. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

Plain, shy Louetta Graham had gone thirty-three years without being kissed. Suddenly, at thirty-five, she’d been kissed by two of the most ruggedly attractive men in the entire state of South Dakota, and all in the span of fifteen minutes. Whatever was a woman to do?

“There I was,” Wes Stryker said, blue eyes full of mischief as he regaled Louetta with another rodeo story, “balancin’ on the top rung of the chute, all psyched to climb onto that bronco’s back and stay there. Only, the horse had other ideas. And I knew, the second my butt hit the saddle, that I was in for quite a ride.”

Louetta leaned forward in her chair, her stomach comfortably full, both hands curled around a cup of coffee, intrigued as much by the warmth and friendliness in Wes’s expression as by the tale itself. “Did you last your eight seconds?” she asked, feeling her smile broaden at the look of self-confidence and humor on Wes’s lean face.

“The longest eight and a half seconds of my life. Near as I can tell, ridin’ a bucking bronco is a lot like steering a spaceship through reentry.”

“How many times have you steered a spaceship through reentry?” Louetta asked around a grin.

Although she hadn’t seen much of Wes since they’d graduated from high school, she realized he’d always been easy to be with. Maybe it was because he hadn’t exactly fit in, either. He hadn’t been unpopular, but he’d rarely participated in after-school activities.

Louetta couldn’t remember much about Wes’s mother, who’d died when he was a young boy, but it was common knowledge that Sam Stryker had had a drinking problem, just as it was common knowledge that the reason Wes had spent every free moment practicing his roping and riding skills was that he’d been planning his escape from Jasper Gulch. He’d left town the day after graduation. Although he’d come back a couple of times every year, nobody had really expected him to return for good. But then, Louetta thought to herself, nobody had ever expected her to be pursued by two men, either.

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