Over her dead body…

Angel Lowell’s twin sister, Aiden, always got what she wanted—including Angel’s boyfriend, Drew Maitland, lock, stock—and marriage… Now Aiden is dead, and Drew and Angel have returned to Crossfield, Texas, to save the small town they had all once called home. It might be time for Angel to forgive the past…and live for the future…

The ten years apart have only deepened Drew’s need, and he has vowed that this time Angel will be his. But even if he can convince Angel to take a second chance on him, something—or someone—is determined to keep them apart. How can he protect the woman he loves from an evil they can’t even see?

Previously published.

Angels Don’t Cry
Amanda Stevens

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Title Page

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Epilogue

Copyright

Prologue

Someone was calling to her, whispering her name softly, like the wind sighing through the trees.

Angel! Angel!

Ann Lowell moaned softly, her head moving from side to side on the pillow. Images danced through her unconscious—dark, threatening visions of a sky lit with lightning, of water deep and cold and black as it closed over her head, of blinding, numbing terror—

With a gasp Ann sprang upright in bed, her eyes staring blindly into the shadowed recesses of her bedroom. Her heart seemed to stop for a moment, then slammed against her chest in rapid, painful beats, temporarily driving away the memory of what had awakened her.

The storm, she thought weakly as she sagged back against the pillow, dazed and shaken. But...what storm? Moonbeams softly drenched her bedroom. The night sky outside her window was clear and starry.

A dream then—

No, not a dream. A feeling. A premonition. Her twin sister was in trouble. The revelation came to Ann quickly, startling her into alertness. She could sense the fear, could almost smell it. It was all around her, chilling her like a winter mist, settling over her like a dark and heavy shroud.

Something had happened to Aiden. Ann knew it as surely as she knew herself to be safe and sound in her own bedroom. She closed her eyes tightly, letting the sensations wash over her. The pulsing terror of her dream had given way to a strange calmness. Ann could feel herself sinking into a dangerous lethargy, a dark serenity that lulled and beckoned as though she were being pulled into a deep and dreamless sleep. Through it all came an unbearable sense of sorrow and loneliness...and betrayal. Strong, tearing emotions that for one brief moment were almost tangible. And then they began to fade....

“Aiden!” Ann screamed her sister’s name aloud as she bolted upright in bed. Again and again she sought to capture the elusive link with her twin, sought until sweat broke hot on her skin, until her knuckles whitened where she clutched the quilt ever tighter, until she knew with certainty it was too late to say I forgive you.

“Oh, God.” With shaking hands, she shoved aside the cover, reaching automatically for the telephone before she realized there was no one to call. Aiden and Drew had been divorced for a long time. Whether they kept in touch or not, Ann had no way of knowing. At any rate, she was not the one to call Drew Maitland.

She glanced at the bedside clock. Midnight. Midnight, and she had no idea where her sister was. Rising from her bed, she belted a robe around her as she walked to the window, staring blindly down at the garden.

She waited.

Her vigil at the window continued until the first lavender light of dawn stained the eastern sky, until the weak, winter sun broke through the horizon. Until nothing remained of the night before except memories. Still, she watched and she waited.

But the call from Cozumel, Mexico, did not come until two days later.

Her sister was dead.

One

Six months later.

Like its sleek, graceful namesake, Drew Maitland’s dark green Jaguar prowled the quaint, narrow streets of Crossfield, Texas, with a careful, almost contemptuous observance of the posted speed limit. A traffic light turned red, and the car lunged to a halt, the powerful engine idling and thrumming impatiently. Tinted windows obscured the driver from curious, prying eyes, but the anonymity was only an illusion. Already the news had spread.

Peering between parted curtains at her front window, Wilma Gates hurriedly dialed the number of the house next door. Bernice Ballard answered on the first ring.

“You’ll never guess who that car belongs to,” Wilma challenged by way of greeting.

“Humph. Looks like one of those foreign jobs,” Bernice noted in disapproval. “Probably one of those hotshots from the development company that’s been nosing around here. They all act like they’ve got money to burn—”

“He’s with Riverside Development Company all right, but you’re never going to believe—”

“—I swear, the way they breeze into town, acting like they already own the place, making offers right and left for river-fronted property, telling us what we should do with our town—”

“It’s that Maitland boy!” Wilma practically shouted, trying to recapture control of the conversation.

“—Not that I’ve got anything against progress, mind you, but I just think— Who!”

“You remember Drew Maitland, don’t you?” Wilma asked smugly, noting the silence on the other end with immense satisfaction.

Bernice finally found her breath again. “Well! I never thought that boy would have the nerve to show his face in this town again.”

“Nerve was one thing Drew Maitland was never short on,” Wilma remarked dryly. “Remember all those pranks he used to pull, instigating all those wild parties down by the river? Not to mention what he did to Ann Lowell and her sister. Although I can’t say Aiden’s part in that whole sordid mess surprised me any. I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but she always was a wild one. Ann was so sweet and courteous. It was such a shame, her having to leave town like that.”

“Well, it seems mighty peculiar to me, that company sending him down here to do their business. Ann’s property is one of the pieces they’ve been trying to buy for months. I can’t imagine she’d want to do business with Drew Maitland. I know ten years is a long time, but people around here don’t forget things. There’s still talk about what he did—”

“People love to talk, you know that.” Wilma pushed her face closer to the window as she strained to catch a last glimpse of the green car as it swooshed through the intersection. “Nothing Drew Maitland does should surprise anyone here in Crossfield anymore. I declare, when he walked into that church at Aiden’s memorial service, I half expected the roof to collapse.”

“Oh, I know,” Bernice agreed piously. “But to give the devil his due, he did sit in the back and he left before the service was over. At least he spared poor Ann that much. I don’t think she even knew he was there until I—well, I happened to mention to her at the cemetery that I thought it was him. Poor little thing turned pale as anything. I thought she was going to pass out cold—”

“And who could blame her, a shock like that—”

“Wilma! He’s turning left down River Road. You don’t suppose he’s actually going out to the farm? Surely even he wouldn’t have that kind of gall—”

“Call Gail! If he’s going to the farm, he’ll have to pass by her house...”

* * *

Ann stood under the dappled shade of one of the giant black locust trees lining the sidewalk of the Crossfield, Texas, city hall. She was late, but she couldn’t seem to muster the courage needed to close the distance between herself and the crowd milling about outside the arched loggia as they waited for the town meeting to begin.

The breeze shifted, stirring the branches overhead and loosening a shower of tiny, white blossoms from the fragrant clusters. The heady scent filled her with nostalgia for long, lazy summer days, for moon-drenched nights by the river, for a time when she had been young and innocent and head over heels in love.

She shook her head slightly, trying to dispel the feeling, but ever since her cousin had called her at the university that morning with the news, Ann’s mind had refused to register anything but all those elusive memories and those two, fateful words. “Drew’s back.”

All day, in anticipation of seeing him at this meeting tonight, Ann had tried to prepare herself. “It doesn’t matter,” she reminded herself over and over again. “It’s been ten years. Nothing lasts that long. Except maybe hate.” Or love. Luckily she felt neither of those emotions for Drew Maitland anymore. What she felt for him now, and for what he was trying to do to her town, was contempt.

How like him to imagine he could waltz back into Crossfield after all these years and change everything to suit his needs, his own self-serving ambition. She’d once been almost destroyed by his selfishness, but not this time. This time, she wouldn’t run away. He didn’t know it yet, but Drew Maitland was in for the fight of his life.

Bracing her shoulders with renewed determination, Ann crossed the lawn to the sidewalk leading up to the white stucco building. The excited chatter of the crowd filled the air like a swarm of angry bumblebees. Ann had never before seen such an enthusiastic turnout for a town meeting. But then, Crossfield had never before been threatened by a big city developer, she reminded herself grimly.

“Ann! Over here!”

Ann looked up to see Viola Pickles, president of the local Historical Society, waving a picket sign as she bore down upon Ann with resolve. Every time Ann saw Viola, she wondered if the little woman’s sour disposition was the result of her forty years as a junior high school teacher or a self-fulfilling prophesy of her name. Ann was only too aware of the impact and expectations a name could elicit. For that very reason, she’d changed hers a long time ago.

“Ann, I need to talk to you before the meeting,” Viola said urgently, clamping down on Ann’s arm with surprising vigor. “Have you heard about the representative Riverside Development has sent down here?”

“Yes, I heard,” Ann replied curtly, extricating herself from the clawlike grasp as she continued toward the steps, ever mindful of the curious stares, the whispered comments behind hands.

Viola blinked once behind the large, black-rimmed glasses she wore as she struggled to keep pace with Ann. “You already know about Drew Maitland?” There was a faint note of disappointment in her tone.

“Jack called me this morning between classes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Viola, I really do have to run—” Ann started up the steps with the older woman trailing her like a lost puppy.

“This isn’t going to change your position, I hope.” Viola’s voice rose in corresponding increments as Ann’s longer legs widened the distance between them. “There’re a lot of people counting on you to represent us. We don’t want Crossfield razed to make room for shopping malls and condos! You tell them that, Ann!” Viola called after her as Ann opened the glass door and stepped inside the air-conditioned corridor.

Her high heels clicked against the black and white mosaic tile floor as she hurried across the lobby to the council chambers, pausing outside the door for a moment to take a deep breath.

Go on, open the door. she commanded herself. Get it over with. You’ll probably find he’s nothing like you remembered. You won’t feel a thing.

“Famous last words,” she muttered as she reached for the knob and turned it. She opened the door, stepped inside, and stopped, her eyes sweeping the room with one frantic glance.

The blood pounded in her ears. Her stomach gave a violent quiver. Her knees began to tremble as a powerful relief flooded through her. He isn’t there. It had all been a mistake. Drew hadn’t come back.

“Ann! Over here! We’re saving you a seat!” At the sound of her name being called, Ann stepped into the large room where dozens of folding chairs had been set up for the town meeting. The Historical Society had grouped themselves toward the front of the room, and several of the matrons were emphatically motioning her to join them as they zealously brandished placards with messages ranging from NO BULLDOZING IN CROSSFIELD to simply RIVERSIDE DEVELOPMENT GO HOME.

With a reluctant sigh Ann started toward them, noting that the only vacant chair left in the whole room was smack in the middle of their group between Bernice Ballard and Wilma Gates, who were staring at her with avid curiosity. Like a horde of locusts, they descended on her as soon as she sat down, stinging her with questions from every side.

“Have you seen him yet?”

“What’s he like now?”

“What did he have to say for himself?”

“What’s he look like?”

Before Ann could open her mouth to answer, the side door opened into the council chambers. Mayor Sikes walked into the room, followed by Drew Maitland, and the entire Historical Society took a collective breath.

“Drew...” His name slipped through Ann’s lips on her own suspended breath as a thousand memories—images from a lifetime ago—cascaded through her. Stolen moments by the river, forbidden longings during hot, sleepless nights. And love, so powerful and enduring that it hadn’t gone away...even after he’d married her sister.

Oh, God, why now? Ann thought desperately. Why now, when he was ten years too late? Why now, when all that was left between them were the memories? And Aiden. Always Aiden. She was almost a physical presence in the room with them, reminding Ann anew that this man had broken both their hearts.

Wilma Gates found her voice first. “Oh, Lord, he’s still a handsome devil,” she said reverently, smoothing back a wisp of her bluish gray hair. “And still wild as the wind, I don’t doubt.”

“Girls, we’ll have our work cut out for us opposing him,” Bernice predicted, her seventy-year-old eyes snapping with excitement. “That boy could charm the bloomers right off a virgin, I’ll wager.”

Ann’s face flamed at that particular observation, her mind flying back to one moonlit night on the bank of the river, a night when she’d been lying in Drew’s arms, their clothes strewn in the grass around them. She had stopped him, of course, before they’d gone too far. After getting dressed, Drew had held her in his arms again, telling her it was all right, that he’d wait for her until she was ready.

He hadn’t waited, though, Ann thought bitterly. In the end, he hadn’t waited for her.

She watched him walk through the room, stopping to talk with old friends and acquaintances, shaking hands and smiling, his dress and demeanor both elegantly understated. Her gaze slipped over him taking in with reluctant precision the beautiful cut of his gray, double-breasted suit, the stark white of his shirt splashed with the silk brilliance of his tie.

Older, perhaps a bit harsher-looking than she remembered, Drew Maitland was still the most compelling man she’d ever known. His eyes were as blue as the summer sky, and his light brown hair was still thick and sun-streaked and made for a woman’s fingers.

What riveted her attention most, though, was the air of total self-confidence, which she remembered only too well. As an adolescent full of insecurities and self-doubts, she’d been drawn to him for his inner strength and confidence as surely as she’d been attracted to his astonishing good looks.

The combination was still just as devastating, she thought with a warning quiver in the pit of her stomach. And still just as dangerous.

Beside him, Crossfield’s short, rotund mayor strutted and blustered with self-importance, looking like nothing so much as a bantam rooster in a coop full of hens as he back-clapped and smiled his way through the crowd. The comparison was inevitable, and Mayor Sikes fell short in more than just stature.

Completely undaunted, however, the mayor stepped to the podium and briskly rapped his gavel against the scarred wooden top as he called the meeting to order. There was a last-minute scramble as the stragglers from outside dashed in, and then the shuffling of feet and the low rumble of voices reluctantly faded away as everyone turned with anxious, expectant expressions to face the front of the room.

For good measure Mayor Sikes cleared his throat a couple of times as he surveyed the room over a pair of antiquated bifocals perched on the end of his nose. “Folks, we’re going to go ahead and get started here. As most of you already know, a company called Riverside Development has shown a great deal of interest in our community of late...”

As the mayor rambled on, Ann shifted restlessly against the cold back of the metal chair. Unconsciously she crossed her legs as she fervently tried to keep her eyes focused straight ahead. To avert her gaze even fractionally would bring Drew into her line of vision, and every time she looked at him, her heart seemed to stop.

“...I know we’re all anxious to hear the latest word from Riverside,” the gravelly, grating voice droned on. “But first, there are one or two other matters of business we need to address. Last month Bernice Ballard requested the addition of a Stop sign at the corner of Elm and Pecan. The council and I have taken that request under serious consideration...”

As the mayor’s voice droned relentlessly on, Drew found his attention straying. Not far. Just a few feet away, where Angel Lowell sat rigidly facing the front of the room, apparently absorbed in every word being spoken. An ironic smile touched his lips as he noticed the legion of women surrounding her and the protest signs they were holding.

It had been his idea to come to Crossfield to try to smooth the way for the multimillion dollar project Riverside Development had in mind. For months now, since they’d gone public with their plans, Riverside had met with steady opposition from a number of Crossfield citizens and property owners in the area. As vice president of public relations for the huge conglomerate that owned Riverside Development, Drew had seemed the perfect choice to deal with the lingering antagonism his company had generated. After all, he’d grown up here, and even with his cloudy past, he had a better chance of gaining their trust and support than an outsider would.

But at that time he hadn’t realized his antithesis would be the one person who had good reason to despise him and everything he represented. He knew Angel had rebuffed every offer Riverside had made for her property along the river. That hadn’t surprised him in the least. He knew how much that land had meant to her father. But no one had bothered to inform him until today that she was also a member of the Crossfield town council, that she represented the contingent of Crossfield citizens who were adamantly opposed to change.

He let his gaze slide over her, greedily detailing each lovely feature—that glorious red hair, worn long now judging by the thick twist at her nape, and eyes that were still the most beguiling shade of green he’d ever seen. She’d grown so incredibly gorgeous, he thought, with a sharp tightening in his stomach. So womanly.

The past ten years had added a poise and self-confidence that were astonishing, a maturity that was breathtaking. She had always been beautiful to him, more beautiful by far than any woman he’d ever known. She and Aiden had been identical in appearance, yet he’d never once mistaken one for the other. Not once. That hadn’t been an excuse he could use.

With a bitter tinge of regret, he tried to look away, but his gaze kept coming back to her. He had the sudden urge to spirit her away from here, to take her somewhere quiet and romantic where the lights were dim and he could slide his hand along the creamy expanse of her legs, so stunningly displayed beneath the hem of her short skirt. He longed to trace his finger along the neck of her silk tank top, exploring the soft fabric that only hinted at the enticement hidden underneath. But most of all, he wanted to remove, one by one, the pins that held in place that prim knot of hair and watch the fiery cascade tumble down her back in wanton abandonment. He wanted to kiss her long and hard until everything and everyone spun away from them.

With a healthy dose of reality, he tamped down that reckless urge. He was here to do a job, he reminded himself grimly. And that job required him to make peace with Angel Lowell, win her over, sell her on the prospect of the future. Better to keep their past out of it.

He saw her gaze shift, and for one brief moment found himself hopelessly sinking into those endless green depths. She quickly shuttered her eyes, closing him out, and he reluctantly turned his attention back to Mayor Sikes, who was exuberantly introducing him. Drew stood and took the podium.

He smiled warmly as he let his gaze roam the audience. “As I recall, the last time I was brought before a Crossfield town meeting had something to do with Halloween night and an outhouse placed on top of city hall. I must say, my task here tonight is a bit more pleasant than it was that night.”

The tension in the room began to evaporate as everyone laughed their approval. Ann felt the corners of her own mouth twitch. She remembered how Drew and her cousin, Jack Hudson, had struggled to load Fannie Taylor’s outhouse into the back of Jack’s old pickup truck while she and Aiden had kept lookout. How they’d managed to get it on top of city hall, she’d never dared ask.

Mayor Sikes had been livid, and he’d insisted Jack and Drew come before a town meeting and publicly apologize to Fannie and to the whole town. Now he was laughing more uproariously over that incident than anyone else, his belly shaking like the Pillsbury Doughboy in a pin-striped suit.

Drew let the laughter subside, his own grin fading as he surveyed the crowd once more, his gaze pausing briefly on Ann before sweeping on. But she’d felt a warming impact from even so fleeting a glance from those blue, blue eyes.

“As most of you know, Riverside Development is a division of Braeden Industries of Dallas, the firm I’ve been employed by since graduating from UT. My background in Crossfield gives me a unique appreciation of small town values and concerns. At the same time, my long-time standing with Braeden Industries and now with Riverside Development enables me to tell you without hesitation that they can bring much to this community.”

Drew’s commanding air of self-confidence had an immediate effect on the crowd. Except for the smooth, liquid tones of his voice, a dropped pin could have been heard in that room.

Ann bit her lip in consternation as she took in the absorbed faces around her. He had them in the palm of his hand already, she thought with a sinking heart. He was seducing every last one of them without batting an eye. Even Viola Pickles’s austere features were tempered, and Bernice and Wilma looked positively enraptured.

“What Riverside is proposing, ladies and gentlemen, is a partnership. A partnership that will ensure a bright and prosperous future for generations of Crossfield citizens.

“I’ll be around for a while, several weeks in fact, meeting with Mayor Sikes and the town council as well as various special interest groups and individuals.” Again his eyes grazed Ann. “If you have any questions or concerns or comments, please feel free to come to me with them. Mayor Sikes?”

“Thank you, Drew. I’m sure everyone joins me in saying welcome home. Now, does anyone have any questions?”

Evidently, Mayor Sikes’s re-emergence worked like a dousing of cold water on Wilma and Bernice. Both of them were on their feet, hands raised high.

With a glare of disapproval over his bifocals, Mayor Sikes said, “Bernice? You have a question?”

“I certainly do,” she stated emphatically, directing her question to Drew. “Just what is your company’s intentions concerning all those old houses along Riverside Drive? Young man, you can’t come in here, bulldozing away the past without regard to the heritage of our town. Many of those houses have great historical value, not to mention the families who still live in them.”

“Miss Ballard, Riverside Development is not forcing anyone out of their homes. We’re making legitimate offers to property owners along the river, and frankly, many of them have responded quite favorably.”

“And if that area is rezoned for commercial building, what will become of the ones who don’t want to sell?” Wilma chimed in. “They’ll end up with parking lots and convenience stores for next door neighbors.”

“That will be a matter for the town council to decide. As you know, Riverside’s request for rezoning the waterfront has not yet been accepted by the council.”

“And never will be,” Viola proclaimed loudly. “Right, Ann? Ann?”

Ann jumped slightly as Viola nudged her into awareness. She looked around at all the expectant faces waiting for her to take up their cause. A sense of overwhelming vulnerability washed over her. She knew what had to be done, what needed to be said, but all she seemed to be able to focus on was how utterly compelling Drew’s eyes still were, how openly inviting his mouth had always been—

“I have serious reservations about these proposals,” she said finally. Several women from the Historical Society turned in their chairs to stare at her, and Bernice, Wilma and Viola were openly gaping. “Very serious reservations,” she added lamely.

“That’s why I’m here,” Drew said, looking directly at her with those vivid, penetrating eyes. “I want to hear all your concerns and questions. All I ask is that I be given a chance to present my side.”

The warm, enveloping sound of his voice aroused tremors all through her, and Ann had to wonder whether they were still talking about the development project or something more personal—something much more threatening.

She forced a challenge into her gaze as she turned to face Drew. “And those of us who oppose this project want the same consideration. The farmers around here have had a lot of tough years. For those who want to sell Riverside their land, the escalating property values are wonderful. But to those of us who don’t wish to sell, and never will, the increase in property taxes will be just another burden for us to carry.” She paused for a moment, her chin lifting slightly as she continued to defy Drew. “You seem to think that your development plan will somehow give Crossfield a better way of life, but a lot of us think it’s just fine the way it is. We don’t call escalating crime rates, traffic jams and the destruction of the countryside `a bright and prosperous future.’”

“Here! Here!” Bernice applauded, only to be targeted by Mayor Sikes’s deepening scowl.

“I’m not denying there’s a price to be paid for progress,” Drew said calmly. “But the rewards are often greater. Crossfield has lived in the past too long. It’s time to take a step forward before this town goes the way of so many other farming communities these days.”

There were murmurs of assent from the crowd. Nathan Bennett, one of Ann’s neighbors and an avid supporter of the development project, stood up, his face flushed dark red with excitement and possibly a nip or two of something else. “You’re right, Drew. Some of us are more concerned with the opportunities your project could bring—like jobs and new businesses, better schools and roads. How do a few termite-infested old houses down by the river compare with our children’s futures? We don’t want the deal queered by a bunch of old battle-axes who don’t have anything better to do with their time—”

Bernice was back on her feet in a flash. “Now, see here, Nat Bennett, I’ll have you know I’m just as concerned with your children’s welfare as you are. Maybe more so, judging by the condition that house of yours is in—”

Mayor Sikes’s gavel sounded over the dull roar of the crowd. “Now, hold on a minute. We’re all friends and neighbors here. No need to get so hot under the collar. We can state our opinions and concerns without getting personal. I think we’ve all said enough for tonight. More will be accomplished if we let Drew take up these matters one on one rather than in a shouting match. This meeting stands adjourned. Cake and coffee’s been set up in the lobby—”

“Come on, girls,” Bernice said, gathering up her purse and placard. “We need to plot a new strategy.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Viola protested, trailing after Bernice. “I’m the president. I think I should be the one to decide—”

“Wilma! Are you going to sit there all night or are you coming with us?”

Ann let the voices swirl around her as she stood. For just a moment her gaze caught Drew’s and a spark of something—anger?—ignited between them. Then she turned, tucking her purse beneath her arm, and walked out of the room.

Two

Ann stood on her front porch, letting the night surround her like a soft, velvet cocoon. She’d been home from the meeting for over an hour, but had only gone inside long enough to dispense with her shoes and stockings. Out here, with the cool breeze from the river gliding along her bare arms and legs, the evening was like a fragrant balm.

Down by the river the crickets and bullfrogs had begun their evening serenade. The leaves rustled overhead, sounding like rain, and the scent of roses and honeysuckle carried on the wind as heady and maddening as a drug. Ann rested her head against a wooden support, blinking back a mist of unfamiliar tears at the memories the summer night whispered to her. Warm, starry evenings, the sliding shimmer of the river, and she and Drew swimming in the moonlight...

Somewhere in the distance a car engine sounded on the highway. Ann waited for it to bypass the turnoff to the farm, but it didn’t. Instead she watched the headlights bouncing down the gravel road toward her. She watched as the beautiful, gleaming car came around the last bend in the lane and stopped at the end of the driveway. She watched as the driver got out of the car and came slowly across the yard toward her.

Only then did she realize she’d been holding her breath. She let it out with an almost painful swoosh.

Drew stopped at the steps, one foot poised on the bottom stair as he met her eyes in the moonlight. The pale, silvery light cast an ethereal glow between them, making the moment seem even more unreal, like a dream. Then a ghost of a smile touched his lips, and Ann’s heart slowly contracted.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. There was a strange catch to her voice that disturbed her. She tried to swallow it away as she continued to hold Drew’s gaze.

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you at the meeting. I wanted to come out here and explain my situation to you.”

“There’s no need. You made it perfectly clear,” Ann said, forcing a calmness into her tone she was far from feeling. “And I’ll try to make mine just as clear. If you’ve come out here to make me an offer, you’re wasting your time.”

His smile twisted wryly. “So I’ve heard.” He paused briefly, climbing up another step or two so that eyes were on an even level. Ann moved back a step. Drew stopped. For a moment he stood there looking at her, his heart pounding at her nearness. She leaned her back against the porch post as she faced him defiantly, but with her bare feet and legs, her hair wisping about her face, she looked touchingly vulnerable and young, so incredibly sweet—and to him, at least, so very unreachable.

Keep it light, he advised himself sternly. She was like a wild, skittish colt. One false move on his part, and she would be gone, lost. “That was quite a cheering section you had back there. I hadn’t realized until tonight you were leading the opposition.”

“I’m not,” she denied. “I mean, I’m not a member of the Historical Society or any other group. But as a council member, I have to listen to the needs and desires of all the citizens, and there are a lot of people around here who don’t want this project going through.”

“But a lot of people do,” he insisted. “And as a council member, you have to be willing to listen to both sides, right?”

“Who says I’m not?” she challenged, lifting her chin a notch. “Riverside’s done a lot of talking in the past few months, and I haven’t liked much of what I’ve heard. What you’re proposing will change the whole complexion of the town, turn it into some sort of riverside resort with a bunch of overpriced homes sitting on so many undersized lots. Crossfield is a small town, Drew. Personally, I’d like to see it stay that way.”

“Everybody’s entitled to his or her opinion,” Drew said without rancor. “All I ask is that I be given a chance to try and change it.”

Ann bristled indignantly. “I doubt you can do that.”

He smiled, his voice intimately low and persuasive. “All I ask is a fair chance.” He emphasized the word fair.

“Is that why you came all the way out here tonight?” Ann asked coolly. “To make sure I wouldn’t sabotage your project on personal bias?”

Drew shrugged. “Partly. And partly because I wanted to see you, talk to you, maybe make it a little easier on both of us when we meet up from now on. And we will be meeting, often. Circumstances have thrown us together, and everyone’s going to be watching us, pouncing on any animosity between us to feed their curiosity.”

“Are you saying you’re worried about gossip?” Ann asked incredulously. “As I recall, you never cared one way or the other what people said or thought.”

“That’s not altogether true,” he objected, his words falling like rose petals on the sultry night air. “I always valued your opinion, Angel.”

No one but Drew had ever been able to make her childish name sound so seductive. The intimacy of it now tore at Ann’s heart. The years faded away and he was once again Drew, her first love, the boy next door who could wrap her around his little finger with just a smile or a touch or the whisper of her name. Regret spilled through her, but it was only a dim reflection of the pain and bitterness and disillusionment she had once suffered because of this man.

She let her eyes meet Drew’s once more as she folded her arms in front of her, forcing herself to remain calm and undaunted beneath the power of his devastating blue gaze. “No one calls me Angel anymore. At least not to my face.”

“Sorry. Old habits, as they say, die hard.” He mounted the rest of the steps, coming to stand beside her so that she was forced to look up at him. “I’d heard you’d changed your name sometime ago.”

From Aiden, of course, Ann thought with a prick of an emotion she did not care to identify.

“In fact, it’s now Dr. Lowell, I believe.”

She heard the light, almost teasing quality in his voice and found herself responding in spite of her resolve. A grudging smile touched her lips. “Since you’re not one of my students, Ann will do.” She paused, then added, almost accusingly, “We’ve certainly heard great things about your career. Vice president, isn’t it?”

Drew gave a low, ironic laugh. “One of several. Empty titles to feed our egos rather than our bank balances.”

His self-deprecating humor somehow managed to cut through the tension. Ann felt her taut muscles slowly begin to relax as she allowed herself to respond to Drew’s smile.

A furtive movement in the garden below captured their attention. Ann could just make out the dark outline of her three-legged cat as he crouched at the edge of a flowerbed, eyes glowing in the darkness. He pounced at some poor, unfortunate creature in the grass, one gray paw whipping out like a hook. With a loud meow of protest, he disappeared into the foliage, stalking.

“One of your infamous strays, no doubt,” Drew teased warmly.

Ann nodded. “I found him out on the highway a few months ago where he had been hit by a car and left to die. Dr. Matlock patched him up as best he could, but there wasn’t anything he could do about his leg. He manages just fine with the three he has left, though,” she remarked proudly. “Watson’s very curious, always prowling around, poking in corners. And he’s smart as a whip.”

“Then why not Sherlock?” Drew asked with an easy laugh. “You always did find heroes in the most unlikely guises.”

The sound of his laughter touched something deep inside her, something she tried to deny but couldn’t. His laughter still had the power to set her stomach quivering, her hands to trembling. It still had the power to break through all the barriers she had so carefully erected. “Not anymore,” she said in a tone that held the faintest trace of resentment. “I gave up looking for heroes a long time ago.”

The momentary break in tension fled at her words. She noted the slight stiffening of his posture that acknowledged the same thought.

“Ang—Ann, I was sorry to hear about your father. And Aiden.” He paused for a moment. “I wanted to talk to you at her service, but there were a lot of people around you...I didn’t want to intrude.”

Her soft green eyes impaled him with a piercing glance. “I was surprised to hear you were there at all.”

He shrugged uneasily, his voice slightly defensive. “A lot of people were, I imagine. It seemed to me the decent thing to do.”

“Yes. As I recall, you were always big on doing the decent thing—at least where Aiden was concerned.”

Ann felt a small prickle of remorse as she watched a brief frown crease Drew’s forehead at her bitter words. Her response had been automatic, prompted by emotions in herself that were all too easy to identify. When someone had first told her that Drew had been at the service, Ann’s heart had almost hit the floor. For a brief terrible moment, even in her grief, she’d felt the threat of an old jealousy. Then there had been the inevitable and almost instantaneous feeling of guilt. Those same two emotions had warred inside her for ten long years.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she said abruptly. “That was uncalled for.”

“You’ve every right,” Drew acknowledged. But something flashed in those blue depths, something dark and unfathomable, leaving Ann wondering about the hardened look in his eyes.

Her earlier impression of him had been wrong, she realized suddenly. He had changed. A great deal. Even in the moonlight, she could see the lines around his mouth and eyes were far more deeply etched than she had first judged. It would have been a kindness to call them laugh lines when Ann somehow knew they weren’t. They gave him a visage far more mature than his thirty years.

“That was all a long time ago,” she said softly, reminding herself as well as him. It had been a long time ago. The years had slipped away and taken their youth. They had each lived their lives and time hadn’t stopped for either of them. “Why are you really here, Drew? What do you want from me?”

His eyes raked her face, then looked away. She wondered suddenly and unpleasantly in the silence that followed whether he’d found the changes in her own face as disturbing as she’d found those in his.

What did he expect? she thought bitterly. Ten years wrought changes in everyone. So did pain and disillusionment and anger.

“I want your goodwill, Ann,” he said at last. “No matter what the outcome of the Riverside project turns out to be. This may sound strange to you, but I’d like to establish some sort of—I don’t know—peace between us. I want to put the past to rest once and for all.”

Ann plucked a chandelier of honeysuckle from the trellis beside her and spun the blossom beneath her nose like a tiny pinwheel. She closed her eyes as the thick, haunting scent triggered a thousand memories. Abruptly her eyes opened. “You’re a little late to be asking for my goodwill.”

He fixed her with a long, searching gaze. “It’s been ten years, Ann. I can’t believe you still hate me that much.”

“You flatter yourself. Hate is a powerful emotion. I don’t feel anything for you anymore.”

“Is that why you ran away from me earlier? You ran away from me a long time ago, and you’re doing it still. What are you afraid of?”

She gaped at him in open-mouthed indignation. “I’m certainly not afraid of you!” she snapped in sudden anger.

“Then why did you leave like that?” he asked softly. “Why did you leave without telling me where you were going, without even saying goodbye?”

For a moment she thought he was still talking about her leaving the meeting, but when she realized he was referring to the past, her gaze sliced him with scorn. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that. You, of all people, know exactly why I left, why I had to.”

“You didn’t have to,” Drew argued reasonably, as though the discussion was no more important than idle dinner conversation. “You could have stayed and given me a chance to work something out.”

Her laughter had a bitter, hollow ring to it that had them both blanching. “You got married, remember? You had a child on the way. What could we possibly have `worked out’?”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

She merely stared at him, crushing the honeysuckle blossom tightly in her fist. Abruptly turning away from him, she threw it, lifeless, to the ground.

“It was only one night.” Drew’s voice had grown quietly insistent, as though he meant to have his say whether she wanted to hear him or not. “I made a terrible mistake, but you would never let me explain. You wouldn’t even try to understand.”

Ann whirled around, her cheeks burning with indignation, her eyes glittering like green embers. “What was there to understand, for God’s sake? You betrayed me!”

“And you sure as hell didn’t take long to get over it, did you?” Drew blazed, his temper quick and explosive, as though anger had been simmering all along, just beneath the surface.

Ann stared at him in speechless outrage. That he could presume to know what she had endured! The pain, the loneliness, the sheer hell. She rallied her anger, not bothering to confirm or deny his allegation.

“How dare you say that to me?” Her voice shook with the unleashed emotion of a decade as she clenched her hands into white fists of fury.

“Truth hurts, does it?” Drew taunted cruelly. “I’ve had to face ten long damned years of truth, Angel. You ran away without a word and it took you, what?—all of six months to find a replacement—”

In the strained silence that fell between them the slap resounded like a tree that had been split by lightning. Ann saw the glaring red on the left side of Drew’s face, saw the blue of his eyes darken to a deep and dangerous indigo. She took a faltering step backward.

“Get out of here!” The words were more forceful this time, but she had to turn away, had to put a hand to her lips to quell the trembling.

She felt rather than saw Drew stride angrily down the steps and across the yard. She looked up to see him at his car, his hand poised over the handle. He was looking back at her, but the darkness cloaked his expression.

“Just tell me one thing,” he demanded coldly. “Why is it you could forgive Aiden, but you could never forgive me?”

At the sound of his car door slamming, Ann collapsed weakly onto the porch swing, telling herself it was all over now. She could relax. She was safe here in her little world. She could hear the crickets chirping, could feel the soft, night air against her flushed face as it stirred the wayward tendrils of hair at her nape and temples. Everything was as it should be. She could forget Drew Maitland.

But almost like a warning, his car engine leaped to life, intruding into her private domain. He gunned the motor unnecessarily as he turned the powerful car, and with a sputter of gravel, roared down the narrow lane at a furious clip. His brake lights flashed momentarily as he approached the highway, and then he was gone into the night.

Ann tried to muster up the relief she knew she should be feeling but she was too numb, too dazed. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

Her first instinct on seeing him walk across the yard toward her, even after everything that had happened between them, had been to run down the steps and throw herself into his arms, to cling to the protective shelter she’d once found there.

And what a horribly embarrassing mistake that would have been. The man she’d once loved was gone from her forever. He’d made his choice a long time ago, and she’d had to learn to live with it. At least she thought she had until the moment their eyes had first met after the long years between them...

“Oh, God,” she whispered raggedly, opening her eyes, seeing the comforting surroundings of her porch waver into focus. With trembling hands, she pushed back a tangled wisp of red hair from her forehead.

Why hadn’t she been enough? How many times in the past ten years had she asked herself that question? How many times had she provided herself with the same brutal answer?

Because Aiden had been more. Aiden, her twin sister who had had the same looks as Ann, but with the personality and confidence to use them. Aiden, who had never been afraid to go after what she wanted, and she’d wanted Drew.

Drew had wanted Aiden, too, Ann reminded herself relentlessly. He’d wanted her enough to make love to her. He’d wanted her enough to marry her, to stay married to her even after Aiden had lost the baby. For three long years, he’d stayed with her. And then Aiden had wanted out.

For the next seven years, with both he and Ann free and clear, Drew hadn’t so much as called her. In many ways that was the deepest hurt of all, the hardest to forgive. For years she’d kept her life on hold, wishing and waiting for Drew Maitland to come back to her.

Those long, empty years were like dust in her throat now.

Ann held her hands out in front of her. They were still trembling. She squeezed them together, trying to stop the shaking, trying to block the torrent of memories flooding over her, drowning her, pulling her back to a place she did not want to go....

* * *

“Happy birthday, Angel.”

“Oh, Drew, look! A shooting star. Do you suppose that was meant just for me, so I can have another wish?” Perched on the top rail of the fence, her face lifted to the star-studded sky, Angel felt the slow drift of the river breeze skimming across her skin. Drew stood on the ground facing her, his arms wrapped securely about her waist.

She felt the smooth caress of his hand along her back as he smiled up at her. “Of course. Angels take care of their own, don’t they?”

She bent down suddenly, touching her lips to his. He responded immediately, tightening his arms around her, deepening the kiss with his tongue. Angel let herself enjoy the sensations rippling through her body for a moment longer before she pulled back. Drew sighed heavily as he lay his head against her chest. Her fingers trailed softly through the thick strands of his hair.

“I missed you so.” He breathed the words against her neck as his lips found her rapidly beating pulse. “I was miserable without you.”

She smiled as she kissed his hair. “You can’t live with me and you can’t live without me.”

“Only half that’s true.”

“Which half?” Angel teased lightly.

“You know damn well which half,” Drew growled roughly. His arms tightened around her, then lifted her off the fence. He hauled her against the hardness of his body, holding her captive in his arms while his mouth claimed hers once more. His tongue parted her lips, then dipped inside, exploring almost desperately the deep recesses of her mouth. Angel moaned softly, feeling the need of her body to respond, yet still holding back.

“Drew, please,” she whispered softly as his mouth left hers to trail along her neck, his tongue skimming across her skin.

“Angel, I want you so much. I need you.” His voice was an urgent whisper against her ear. “We can’t go on like this.”

Angel swallowed past the rise of panic in her throat. “Do you think we should break up again?”

“No. Breaking up was your idea, remember? I think we should get married.”

She stared up at him in shock. “But...we still have the same problems, Drew. You want to live in the city, and I don’t. I can’t leave the farm, and I can’t leave Dad. He needs me. You know how he relies on me.”

“Yes, I know,” Drew said, almost bitterly. “But don’t worry. I won’t ever ask you to choose between your family and me again. If moving to the city means giving you up, then it’s not worth it. We’ll stay. I’ll find a job here after I graduate. But I don’t want to wait to get married, Angel. I don’t think we should.”

Angel felt a vague sense of unease at the urgency in his tone, but her elation soon swept it away. Wasn’t this what she’d always wanted ever since she’d first set eyes on Drew Maitland?

She smiled through a mist of tears. “I don’t think we should wait, either. Oh, Drew, you won’t be sorry. I’ll make you so happy! We can be together at last...in every way,” she added shyly.

Drew’s blue eyes blazed with an inner fire. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to pressure you, Angel.”

She laughed lightly, tilting her head to gaze up at him. “You aren’t pressuring me. I’ve wanted this forever.”

He laughed, too, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around in the moonlight. He brought her back down to earth, then pulled a box from his pocket and handed it to her. “In that case, you’d better open your birthday present.”

“Oh, Drew.” Ann’s hands shook slightly as she took the blue velvet box from his hand and opened it. The diamond that twinkled inside was as bright and beautiful as the stars overhead. “It’s beautiful!” she breathed.

“It’s not very big,” Drew apologized as he lifted the ring from the soft bed and slipped it on her finger. “Someday I’ll replace it with a larger one.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Angel cried, appalled at the notion. “I’ll never take this ring off. Do you hear me? Never!”

The house was quiet when Angel tiptoed in sometime after midnight. She climbed the stairs, knowing exactly which step to avoid to prevent a telltale creak. She slipped down the hallway, past her father’s darkened room, until she reached her own at the end. She paused. A thin sliver of light shone beneath Aiden’s door across the hall. Angel held up her hand to the moonlight flowing in from the hall window. The diamond winked at her.

She had to tell someone. She knew she would burst with the news if she had to wait until morning. She knocked softly on Aiden’s door. “Aiden?” She cracked the door. “Are you awake?”

“No.”

Her sister’s voice sounded suspiciously muffled, as though she’d been crying. Angel pushed open the door and walked into the room. Her sister was lying on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest. A wet washcloth was draped across her forehead.

“Are you sick?” Angel asked worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel well,” Aiden mumbled, rolling onto her back. “What do you want, anyway?”

In spite of her sister’s illness, Angel couldn’t help smiling. She sat down on the edge of the bed and held out her hand. “Aiden, I have the most incredible news. Look! Drew and I are engaged.”

Aiden’s head turned slowly toward her, her gaze dropping to Angel’s extended hand. Aiden’s face crumpled suddenly, and she turned her head away, covering her face with the washcloth.

“Aiden, what’s wrong? What is it?” But her sister’s sobs only grew louder. Feeling the first sliver of panic, Angel got up and closed the bedroom door. She came back to stand over the bed. “Aiden, you’d better tell me what’s wrong.”

A pause, then, “I’m pregnant.”

At first Angel thought she must have heard her wrong, but the words slowly sank in, and she felt her breath leave her body in a painful rush. Knees shaking, she sat down heavily on the bed.

“Are you sure?”

“I haven’t been to the doctor, but, yes, I’m sure.” Aiden’s sobs had subsided, but her voice still held a hint of hysteria.

“Who—?”

For the first time since Angel had entered her room, Aiden met her gaze. Angel felt a hard knot of apprehension twisting in her stomach.

“Drew.”

Angel’s heart contracted with the force and pain of a physical blow. Fear, as sharp and piercing as a knife, sliced through her veins. Stunned, she stared at Aiden, striving for breath. “You’re lying!” she finally gasped. “Why would you say such a thing? How could you be so cruel, Aiden?”

“I’m not lying,” Aiden denied angrily.

“How could you do this to me?” Angel screamed, jumping up from the bed and whirling toward the door. She couldn’t stand to look at Aiden’s face, couldn’t bear to think that there could be even a remote chance her sister was telling the truth.

“You broke up with him two months ago. You said it was over,” Aiden said, her voice suddenly sounding calm. “I didn’t think you’d get back together. It just happened.”

Angel wanted to slap her sister, slap that tear-stained face until she made Aiden admit she was lying. But what if she wasn’t?

“I don’t believe you,” she whispered desperately, as much for her own benefit as Aiden’s. “And I’ll never forgive you for this, Aiden!” Angel spun around and fled the room, her heart hammering painfully against her chest. Weak-kneed, her head spinning, she supported herself against the wall outside Aiden’s door. She closed her eyes against the fear, the dread.

Moments later she climbed over the fence separating the Lowell and Maitland property, and stood looking up at Drew’s open window. His light was still on, and she watched for long, heartsick moments as he paced back and forth across his room.

“Drew.” She called his name softly, aware that his parent’s bedroom was on the other side of the house. “Drew!”

He came to the window and looked out. “Angel? What are you doing?”

“I need to talk to you.”

Something in her voice must have alerted him. He stood silently for a moment, gazing down at her. “I’ll be right down.”

“Is it true?” she demanded when they stood face to face at the edge of the yard.

“Angel, what are you talking about?” he asked guardedly.

Already she could read the truth in his eyes. “You and Aiden. Is it true?” she repeated. She turned away from his stricken expression. “Never mind. You just answered my question.” She pulled the ring from her finger and hurled it toward his chest. For just an instant it was a flashing arc in the moonlight, a falling star, before it dropped to the ground and died.

Drew grabbed her arm as she tried to run away. “Angel, wait. Please, let me explain. It’s not what you think. It was only one night—”

“It only takes one night to make a baby, Drew.”

Even in the moonlight, she could see the color drain from his face. “Oh, God, no—”

“Oh, God, yes,” she mocked cruelly. “And just what are you going to do about it?” She jerked her arm from his grasp and left him, stunned, while she turned and ran back along the path toward home.

The lights were blazing in the house when she got there. Aiden had already spread the news, Angel guessed angrily. She let herself into the house and stood at the open door of her father’s study for a moment. Adam Lowell, his gray head resting wearily against the back of his leather chair, looked as though he’d aged ten years. A glass of Scotch sat untouched on the desk in front of him. Some small movement of Angel’s must have caught his attention, for he looked up. Immediately he stood and opened his arms to her. She fled into them.

He held her for several moments while, for the first time since her mother had died years ago, she wept openly in his arms. He held her and soothed her hair, and then he pushed her gently away.

“The time for tears is over now, Angel. You’ve had your cry. Now it’s time to look ahead. Your sister needs you.”

Angel pulled away in protest. “How can you say that? After what she did to me!”

“What’s done is done,” Adam replied calmly. “I never thought you and Drew were a match anyway. I always expected him to break your heart. Aiden needs him now. Don’t stand in their way, Angel.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She and Drew had belonged together ever since they’d met four years ago. She’d only been fourteen and he sixteen, but even then they’d known what they had was special. How could her father even suggest that she was standing in the way. It was Aiden. Always Aiden.

Adam’s position, however, remained firm. Calmly, gently but resolutely, he pointed out how difficult a time Aiden would have if she were to have the baby alone. In a town as small as Crossfield, an illegitimate baby was still very much a stigma. There would be gossip; Aiden’s life would be ruined.

What about my life? Angel wanted to scream. What about me? But she already knew what her father’s answer would be. Angel was the sensible one, the smart one. Angel was always the dutiful daughter and sister. She knew what had to be done, the right thing to be done. In time, she’d get over this. In time, she’d meet someone else....

Angel flew from her father’s study and up the stairs to her own room, slamming the door behind her. She was vaguely aware that the phone started ringing and barely registered when someone picked up, only to have it ring again a minute or two later. She huddled beneath the covers of her bed, feeling devastated, betrayed, and utterly alone.

“Angel? Angel, answer me.”

She could hear Aiden calling to her from the hallway as her sister jiggled the knob on the locked door. “Angel, please let me come in.”

“Leave me alone, Aiden.”

“I’m sorry, Angel. I’m sorry you’re hurt. It happened—”

“Shut up!” Angel barely realized she was screaming the words. “Shut up, Aiden! I don’t want to hear how it happened! I never want to talk to you again, do you hear me? I hate you! I hate you! I wish you were dead!”

Angel pulled the covers over her head, blocking the outside world, shutting out the pounding in her head, the pounding on the front door. Even when she heard Drew downstairs, urgently shouting up to her, she shut him out, as well.

Angel left town the next day. Her father arranged for her to visit a friend in Los Angeles for a while. After a few weeks she decided to enroll in UCLA, eventually completing her graduate studies there and securing a professorship in the history department. For eight long years she’d stayed away, until her father had called her home before he’d died. Even then, his last thoughts had been of Aiden.

“I’m leaving the farm to you, Angel. Aiden would sell the land, squander the money, but I know I can count on you to hang onto it. This place is all your mother and I ever had, all we ever worked for. I promised her before she died the land would be our legacy to you and Aiden. I’m depending on you to see that it stays in the family. With Jack managing her trust fund and you the land, I’ll rest easier knowing Aiden will always be taken care of.

“I know there’s still a rift between you two. Don’t bother denying it, I can see it in your eyes every time her name’s mentioned. But she’s your sister, Angel. There’s no bond stronger than that. I want you to forgive her, as much for your sake as for hers.”

Seeing him lying there, so pale and weak and clinging to her hand, Ann hadn’t the heart to deny him anything.

So she came back home as her father expected her to, and in doing so, she realized that all the changes she had forced upon herself since leaving had only been superficial. She was still Angel Lowell, and changing her name had changed little else.

But at least one part of the promise had been kept. She had held onto the land. Forgiving Aiden hadn’t been so easy.

She’d tried. God, she’d tried, but Ann could never feel the same about her sister. Even when Aiden had started reaching out to her again, Ann had never been able to think about her without feeling resentment and anger, and she could never forget that Drew had chosen Aiden over her.

* * *

“You’re wrong, Drew,” Ann whispered brokenly into the silence of the night. She’d never forgiven Aiden, and now it was too late. What was more, the message Aiden had sent her the night she’d died proved that, even in death, Aiden had still been reaching out to her, and Ann had not been able to help her.

I wish you were dead. How that one hateful sentence had haunted her all these months since her twin’s fatal accident. The jealousy that had festered inside her for so many years had then turned to guilt, an emotion just as destructive and just as binding.

And now Drew was back, reminding her so painfully why she and Aiden had gotten lost from each other in the first place. He’d taken almost everything from her once, and now he’d come back to try and take her home, to try and make her break a vow that had been all she’d had to give to her father.

Impatiently, Ann wiped the back of her hand across the dampness on her cheeks. She could almost hear her father admonishing her—over a scraped knee, a bad grade, a broken heart— “Here now, no more tears. Since when do Angels cry?”

Since she’d met Drew Maitland all those years ago.

Three

Drew clattered down the metal steps outside his room at the Crossfield Motel, then checked his stride as he spotted the figure reclining against the front fender of his Jaguar.

Dressed in faded jeans, a white T-shirt and a used-up pair of tennis shoes, this man was yet another image from Drew’s past. And the look of wary distrust he wore was only slightly more welcoming than Ann’s had been last night.

“’Morning,” the man remarked in a voice that sounded neither cool nor friendly, but not totally indifferent, either. “Nice car. Yours, I presume?”

Drew smiled slightly. “You don’t think I’d come driving into Crossfield, Texas, in a stolen car, do you?”

One dark brow shot up. “Wouldn’t be the first time you took a car out joyriding, now would it?”

“If you’re referring to the incident with the Mercedes, I believe that was your idea.”

“You were driving,” came the lazy response.

“And as I recall, that didn’t make one iota of difference to your mother. Maddie took a frying pan to both our butts.”

They grinned simultaneously at the memory, the awkwardness between them fading. “Imagine that,” Jack Hudson said ruefully, shaking his head. “Sixteen years old and my mother spanking me in front of my best friend.”

Drew chuckled. “The best friend got it just as hard as you did. I couldn’t sit down for a week, but I must say, I lost my affinity for Dad’s new Mercedes in a hurry. Your mother could be very persuasive.”

“Couldn’t she?” Jack agreed ruefully.

“What are you doing up and around this time of the morning?” Drew asked with a certain amount of suspicion.

“You forget I was raised on a farm. Half the day’s gone. Besides, I knew you had a meeting with Sam McCauley this morning. I wanted to catch you before you left.”

Drew stared at him for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “How the hell did you know that?”

Jack grinned crookedly, and for the first time his expression took on a hint of the devil-may-care look he’d always sported as a teenager.

Back in the old days Jack Hudson had been the most carefree soul Drew had ever met. They’d been kindred spirits from the moment their paths crossed. If Drew’s parents had thought moving and getting their growing boy out of the city would keep him out of trouble, they hadn’t figured on Jack Hudson and his twin cousins. They had been holy terrors that first summer, and Drew had quickly become their willing accomplice. They might all have ended up in reform school or worse if Angel hadn’t kept a sensible head for all of them. Their guardian Angel, they’d teased her. She hadn’t much appreciated that, Drew remembered wryly.

“Haven’t you learned yet that every move you make in this town is reported five minutes later by no fewer than a dozen eye witnesses? Nothing’s secret in Crossfield. You should know that as well as anybody.”

“Yeah, well, I guess some things never change,” Drew said dryly.

“Some don’t,” Jack agreed, his expression sobering as his gaze cut back to Drew. “But Ann has.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I hear you drove out to see her last night after the meeting.”

Drew shrugged. “So? I’m seeing and talking to a lot of people. Ann’s a member of the town council as well as a property owner. Why wouldn’t I go see her? I’m sure you’ve heard that’s why I’m here,” he added with a faint trace of bitterness.

“As long as that’s all it is.” Jack’s voice was low and even, but there was a subtle note of warning in it. He stared thoughtfully at the toes of his worn Nikes for a moment. “Frankly, as Ann’s attorney, I’ve advised her all along to sell to Riverside. She’s spent a mint on that old house the last couple of years—a new roof last year, a new pump a couple of months ago. The plumbing’s a constant battle, and the wiring—that’s a nightmare in itself. Uncle Adam named me executor of his estate so that I could keep an eye on the trust funds he set up from their mother’s inheritance, but Ann’s is dwindling faster than I can keep up with it. I don’t mind telling you, it worries me.”

He paused for a moment, and Drew said, “I sense there’s a `but’ in there somewhere.”

Jack’s gray eyes narrowed to a squint. “I don’t want to see her hurt again.”

“I have no intention of hurting Angel.”

“I’m glad to hear it, because she’s been through enough in the last several years. She’s lost her father, she’s lost her sister. Mom was like a mother to her and now she’s moved to Houston. I’m all the family Ann has left around here, and I intend to look out for her. I wouldn’t like to think that this sudden interest in her after all these years has anything to do with your company wanting to acquire her property.”

Drew’s head snapped around in a sudden blaze of anger. “I ought to punch your face in for that remark.”

“Yeah, you probably should,” Jack agreed amiably. “But I had to say it just the same.” He ran an admiring hand over the dark green surface of the car hood. “Anyway, looks like you’re doing all right for yourself.”

Drew smiled coolly. “I could say the same about you,” he said, nodding briefly in the direction of the new red Vette sitting beside the Jaguar.

“Yeah, I guess you could,” Jack agreed. “But as we both know, appearances can be deceiving, can’t they?”

* * *

It was still early, but the sun was already hot against her neck as Ann walked along the mossy bluff overlooking the river. Below her the wide green river slid along lofty banks where water irises grew in violet profusion in a morning light that was misty yellow. A white crane skimmed the glassy surface of the water, searching.

Rising over the treetops, she could see the rusted, towering rafters of the the old river bridge, which had been a ruin for as long as Ann could remember.

The very sight of that bridge always terrified her. Many of the iron supports were missing and the wooden floorboards had been rotting away for half a century. As children, she and Aiden and Jack had been instructed never to play there, but to Aiden and Jack, that had been the equivalent of putting ice cream before them and telling them not to eat it. The temptation became irresistible.

Ann could still remember standing on the road in the hot sun watching them walk across that bridge one summer afternoon. Her heart had pounded with fear, and her stomach had revolted from the terror. She’d lost her lunch right there in front of them, and Aiden and Jack had taunted her from the other side of the bridge, laughing at her and daring her to join them.

For a long time afterward, Ann had had recurring nightmares about that bridge, about seeing Aiden in the middle of it, one minute laughing and calling out to her, and the next minute gone. Ann would inevitably wake up screaming until she heard her father’s brisk voice penetrating the nightmare and, reassured, would stop.

With a start Ann realized someone was on the bridge now, staring down at her from his lofty view. She shaded her eyes with her hand, and as she watched, he lifted a hand to wave at her.

“Drew?” She whispered the name in the early morning silence. What was he doing here? And on that bridge of all places! Didn’t he know what that would do to her? Her stomach knotted painfully as she saw him start across the crumbling floorboards.

Her heart in her throat, she watched him near the end. Something buzzed past her cheek. Absently, she swatted the air, and then her movements froze as something struck the tree beside her with a loud thwack. A fraction of a second later the sharp crack of a rifle split the silence of the river.

For one heart-stopping moment she stood in stunned disbelief, her eyes still glued to Drew. Then terror sliced through her like a saber as reality sank in. Someone had been shooting in her direction, had almost hit her! Dazedly, she realized Drew was shouting something, a heated warning at the careless hunter, but she couldn’t hear his exact words.

Behind her several thrushes were startled from a hedgerow. Ann whirled in panic at the sound, her toe snagging an exposed root. With a shriek she went sprawling to the ground, hands splayed wildly in front of her.

Panic detonated inside her at the sudden stillness all around her. Whether the hunter was moving toward her or away from her, she couldn’t be sure. She lay motionless for several minutes, listening to the quiet.

“Ann! Where are you? Are you all right?”

Her head snapped to attention at the sound of Drew’s voice. She looked around to find him sprinting through a clump of trees toward her. She tried to lift herself up, but her left wrist had twisted when she’d broken her fall. It refused to hold her weight now, and with a grunt of pain, she collapsed back onto the ground.

Drew was on his knees beside her in a flash. “Angel, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay. I tripped over something—”

His eyes closed briefly as he let out a quick breath. “Thank God. I heard the shot and then I heard you scream. When I saw you fall, I thought—”

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she struggled to get up again. Drew’s hand shot out, grasping her arm as he helped her sit up.

“I had a breakfast meeting with Sam McCauley, and I decided to take a walk along the river afterward.”

“And you decided to walk across that bridge?” she said with a note of censure in her tone.

“It’s in worse shape than I remembered,” he agreed wryly. “Listen, are you sure you’re okay? What’s the matter with your arm?”

“I twisted my wrist when I fell. It’s nothing,” Ann said shakily, trying to pull away. But Drew held her, gently but firmly, refusing to let her go.

“Let me take a look.” His fingers tentatively explored along her wrist, probing the bones with a light, sure touch, reassuring them both that nothing was broken.

But Ann felt anything but reassured. His seeking fingers were touching more than just her skin. He was touching memories deep within her soul, awakening feelings she’d long ago buried. With each tender stroke, she could feel herself slipping away, drowning beneath a pool of emotion that should have been drained long, long ago. A soft sigh slipped through her lips, drawing his gaze to hers.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked in a strangely guarded tone.

More than you could ever imagine, she thought, but she only shook her head slightly, feeling the excitement of his touch spreading through her like a wildfire out of control.

He felt it, too. She could tell by the glint of wonder in his eyes, by the trace of some indefinable emotion in his features. His mouth had grown softer, luring her gaze. There had always been something so timelessly seductive about Drew’s mouth. An image came to her now—she was standing beneath a full moon, wrapped in his arms, experiencing for the first time the wonder of his masculine lips against hers—

Mirroring her thoughts perfectly, Drew slowly lowered his head toward hers, the movement hypnotic as Ann stared up at him. Her lips parted slightly, waiting for that exquisitely torturous moment when his mouth would touch hers. Her eyes drifted closed. Her breath caught in her throat.

Yes. Oh, yes! This was the memory that had kept her awake at night, reliving in her mind his every touch, his every whisper, and then longing for more, so much more. This was the memory that had kept her alone and lonely for most of those ten years, because no man had ever been able to touch her as Drew had.

A storm of emotions ripped through her in that waiting moment, tearing her apart with the intensity, the longing.

Drew. He’d finally come back, and it was almost too easy to forget why. It was almost too easy not to care why, only that he was here, with her at last. She’d wanted this moment for so long, had wished for it desperately—

Be careful what you wish for, a little voice in the back of her mind taunted her. She’d had other wishes over the years, wishes that had come true and had tormented her ever since. She’d given up wishing a long time ago, especially where Drew Maitland was concerned.

Her hands fluttered weakly to his chest as she tried to gather her resistance, but still she couldn’t find the strength to push him away.

Another shot rang out, farther down river. The hunter had obviously moved on, the danger was past, the enchantment shattered. Drew’s head lifted as his hands fell away from her. They both struggled to their feet, then stepped apart as he whirled in the direction the shot had come from. “What the hell is going on here, a war?”

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