“Don’t worry. I’m not going to kiss you again.”

She resisted the urge to swallow. “What makes you think I’m worried?”

The cynical slant of his lips belied the faint gleam of amusement in his eyes. “Probably the way you’re sidling up to me like I’m a hungry coyote.”

“Nothing wrong with a coyote,” she quipped. “At least he mates for life.”

His nostrils flared. “Like I said before, I don’t plan on kissing you again.”

For some reason, his cocky promise raked over every womanly particle inside of Dallas and before she realized what she was doing, she’d moved close enough to stick her face right in front of his. “I think you’re the one who’s worried, Boone.”

She watched his gaze drop to her lips, and anticipation shivered right through her.

“Me?” he asked softly. “What do I have to be worried about?”

“That you kissed me—and you liked it.”

Dear Reader,

Christmas is coming! The mere words make me want to dig out the decorations, bake all sorts of gooey, decadent desserts and race to the mall to shop, shop, shop! But mostly, Christmas turns my thoughts to family, the warm gatherings we’ve had through the years and the love we’ve always given to one another.

My heroine, Dallas Donovan, has never been away from her family during the holidays and when she unexpectedly finds herself a thousand miles from home, she can’t bear to miss all the fun of gift giving and celebrations. But she also understands that Christmas is more than parties, it’s a time of hope and dreams and sharing.

On the other hand, my hero, Boone Barnett, has forgotten how to celebrate anything. For the past years, he and his young daughter have gone through one lonely Christmas after another and Dallas soon sees that the two of them need her to fill their lives with cheer and love.

I want to personally thank all of you for continuing to read my Men of the West stories and I hope you enjoy this trip that Dallas takes to rugged Nevada, where she teaches a rancher all about sharing his heart.

Merry Christmas and God bless you all!

Stella Bagwell

Christmas with the Mustang Man
Stella Bagwell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

STELLA BAGWELL

has written more than seventy novels for Harlequin and Silhouette Books. She credits her loyal readers and hopes her stories have brightened their lives in some small way.

A cowgirl through and through, she loves to watch old Westerns, and has recently learned how to rope a steer. Her days begin and end helping her husband care for a beloved herd of horses on their little ranch located on the south Texas coast. When she’s not ropin’ and ridin’, you’ll find her at her desk, creating her next tale of love.

The couple have a son, who is a high school math teacher and athletic coach. Stella loves to hear from readers and invites them to contact her at stellabagwell@gmail.com.

To my late mother, Lucille, who always

made Christmas a special time for her family.

When gifts were spare, her love was rich.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Chapter One

“What the hell?”

Boone Barnett’s muttered question was lost in the cold wind as he watched a truck pulling a horse van leave a wake of dust as it barreled its way across the desert basin. The woman from New Mexico, he decided. The rig was too fancy to belong to anyone around here. But she was supposed to have been here shortly after lunch. Not five minutes from sundown!

Damn it, he was chilled to the bone, exhausted and hungry. He was hardly in the mood to put up with a woman who’d not had the forethought or good manners to show up at a decent hour. If she expected to look at the horses now, she was in for a surprise, Boone thought. His horses weren’t pampered pets housed in luxurious stalls with overhead lights. They existed outside, as they had for hundreds of years on this Nevada range.

Dropping the feed sack near the barn door, he called to a barking black-and-white shepherd before starting the long walk to the front of the house. Frigid north wind had been gusting all day and since he’d been outdoors for most of it, his face burned from exposure and his feet weren’t in much better shape. While he waited for the truck to pull to a stop, he stomped his boots and prayed for a little feeling to return to his toes.

Next to his leg, the dog whined and Boone’s gloved hand patted the animal’s head. “You don’t need to worry about the lady, Queenie. She’s only a visitor.”

Pricking its ears, the shepherd followed Boone forward, while a few feet away, the driver’s door opened on the truck and a tall, shapely woman stepped to the ground. She was dressed in blue jeans and boots and a bright red sweater, and as she moved toward him, she quickly shoved her arms into a denim ranch jacket.

“Hello,” she called out loud enough to be heard above the wind.

“Hello,” he greeted in response.

As the two of them met on the bare, hard-packed earth, Boone removed his glove and extended his hand to her. Even though he was damned irritated at her for showing up at a ridiculous hour, she was still a potential client. And for the past few months horse buyers hadn’t exactly been beating down his door. The last thing he wanted to do was offend this one with bad manners.

“I’m Boone Barnett,” he introduced himself. “And you must be Ms. Donovan?”

A wide smile spread her cherry-colored lips and Boone found himself staring at the woman. He’d not been to town in weeks and even when he was there he didn’t take much notice of people, especially women, but something about the warmth on her face had struck him.

She was far younger than he’d expected and definitely prettier. Light, copper-red hair fell in thick waves to her shoulders and with each gust of wind, it tossed around her head like a bright silk scarf.

She grasped his hand in a firm shake while dimples bracketed her lips and Boone suddenly realized it was going to be an effort to do business with this woman. She had an irritating ability to remind him he was a man, one that had lived without a woman for a long, long time.

“That’s right,” she said. “Call me Dallas. And I want to apologize for showing up so late this evening. The trip out here took much longer than I expected. My truck kept trying to quit on me.”

He’d expected to hear some sort of excuse for her tardiness, but not this one. “It appeared to be running just fine when you pulled up a few moments ago,” he couldn’t stop himself from pointing out.

A faint line furrowed the center of her pale forehead. “For the past mile or two it seemed to smooth out. But several times during the trip out here the engine choked down to a crawl and died. I filled the tank with fuel at Pioche and I’m beginning to wonder if water might have been in the diesel.”

He studied the tiny movements of expression crossing her face and decided her explanation was sincere. Not that the reason for her tardiness mattered, but her honesty did. He wasn’t about to let even one of his horses go to someone who lied. Liars tended to have other faults and his mustangs were like his children. Once they left for a new home, he wanted them to be in the best of hands.

“Could be you picked up some bad fuel,” he agreed. “But whatever the problem, let’s hope it’s fixed itself.”

She let out a long breath. “I hope so, too. The truck belongs to my brother. He was kind enough to let me bring it on this trip, but he won’t be very happy with me if the engine is ruined. Especially since the truck is practically new.”

The realization that he was still holding her hand suddenly hit Boone and though his first instinct was to drop it like a hot brick, he released it slowly and then jammed his hand deep into the pocket of his coat.

She pulled a thick white scarf from the pocket on her jacket and as she quickly wrapped it around her neck, she said, “I tried calling, to give you a heads-up that I was going to be late. But my cell couldn’t pick up a signal.”

He tried to smile, but his face was stiff from the cold. Not that he could use the brutal weather as an excuse. These past few years Boone had pretty much forgotten how to lift the corners of his mouth. But something about this woman made him want to try to appear friendly and normal, even if he wasn’t particularly feeling that way.

“Cell phones are useless out here,” he informed her. “We’re too far away from civilization to have a signal tower anywhere near.”

The wind continued to blow her hair in all directions, and she caught the wayward strands with one hand as she turned her head and surveyed the open land around them. Although her clothes were casual, she wore them with class and it was easy for Boone to see that she’d not purchased them from a discount store. No, this lady was first-class all the way.

“I thought our ranch was isolated, but this place has the Diamond D beat all to pieces,” she remarked. “I don’t think I passed another house for the past fifteen miles.”

Because she’d contacted him by phone before she’d made the trip, Boone was already aware that this young woman lived in southern New Mexico, ran a riding stable for handicapped children and was interested in purchasing mustangs. Other than those bits of information, he knew nothing about her personally. But he was definitely learning fast.

He asked, “Is there someone else still sitting in the truck? You didn’t travel all this way alone, did you?”

She smiled again and his gaze automatically focused on the twinkle in her eyes. Was she just the happy sort, he wondered, or was this her way of flirting?

A woman like her flirting with a man like you? Hell, Boone, you’re really losing it.

“I made the trip by myself. None of my family or friends was available to travel with me this time.”

Boone’s gaze zeroed in on her ring finger. Did her family include a husband? He couldn’t imagine this young, attractive woman was still single. But there was no ring of any sort on her left hand.

Why are you wondering about any of that, Boone? Dallas Donovan is here to buy horses. Her marital status is none of your business.

Stunned that he’d let his curiosity wander so far, Boone did his best to jerk his focus back on the real purpose of this woman’s visit.

“Well, I’m glad you made the trip safely, only there’s not much daylight left.” He gestured toward a maze of outbuildings and connecting corrals. “You’re welcome to look around while I finish spreading feed. There’s a yard lamp on the left side of the big barn. You might be able to see a few of the horses I’ve corralled there.”

“Sure,” she happily agreed. “Now that I’m here, I’d love to see what I can.”

The man turned away from her and started walking toward a long, low barn with several adjoining corrals. Dallas fell in step beside him and as they moved along, she purposely fastened her gaze upon their destination. Yet keeping her eyes off Boone Barnett did little to push him out of her thoughts.

Meeting this man in person had been like a wham on the head. Something about him had instantly grabbed her attention and still hadn’t let go. Maybe because the real thing was a far cry from the image she’d formed when she’d spoken to him over the phone.

First of all, she’d been expecting him to be at least in his fifties or sixties. Instead, he appeared to be just a few years older than her thirty-two. And secondly, he was very tall. At five foot nine, it wasn’t often that Dallas encountered a man that was a head taller than her, but Boone Barnett was that and more. And from the width of his shoulders beneath the plaid jacket, his height was backed up by a very solid foundation.

Even in the waning light, she could see his features were lean and hawkish and tanned to a nut-brown color. The somberness of his face both intrigued and bothered Dallas. She hated to think he might be a man plagued with worries and troubles. It was hard to do business with a person who couldn’t see the lighter side of things.

At the front of the largest barn, he picked up a red plastic feed bucket and pointed to a corral to their immediate left. “There’s a small herd of yearlings in that pen. The mares are next to them. Look all you want, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Glancing at him, she offered politely, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He shook his head. “Thanks, but I can manage.”

Before she could make any sort of reply, he walked away and she was left to make her way over to the penned horses. Apparently he’d already spread the feed for this small herd. The animals were presently lined up to long wooden troughs filled with mixed grains. Nearby, a hay manger was stuffed full of dark green alfalfa.

From what she could see, the horses were well-groomed and in great shape, but as far as Dallas was concerned, their dispositions and willingness to please were more important traits. For the sake of the children, she had to make sure the mounts that made up Angel Wings Stables were dependable, trustworthy steeds.

She was still standing at the fence and sizing up the mares, when Boone finally reappeared. Darkness had now settled over the ranch yard and across the way, near the barn porch, a yard light flickered on to shed a weak glow across the dusty pens.

When he finally came to a stop a few feet away from her, she waited for him to speak.

“The geldings and stallions are penned on the back side of the barn,” he said to her. “But it’s very dark over there. It would be better if you looked at them tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to persuade me,” she said with agreement. “It’s getting colder out here.”

“I’m finished with all the outside chores. Let’s go to the house where it’s warm,” he suggested.

Dallas looked at him, but there wasn’t much to glean from his stoic features. It was impossible for her to tell if he actually welcomed her arrival on the ranch or was simply tolerating it. She probably should have stayed in Pioche and waited until morning to drive out here, she thought dismally. But once she’d checked in at a hotel and grabbed a bite to eat, she’d believed there was plenty of time to make the last leg of her journey to White River Ranch.

She’d never dreamed the drive out here would be so long and the terrain so rough. And she especially hadn’t expected Liam’s truck to start giving her problems. Now she was going to have to make a second trip out here, which would ultimately cause her to be a day late in getting back home to the Diamond D. And that thought was already weighing on her shoulders.

“I don’t want to intrude on you and your family, Mr. Barnett,” she said as she quickened her pace to match his longer strides.

“My name is Boone,” he insisted. “And since it’s just me and my daughter, you won’t be intruding.”

He had a deep, rough voice that was far more expressive than his face. Each time he spoke, his words seemed to vibrate right through her.

“Thank you, Boone. It would be nice to warm up for a minute or two,” she said, while wondering if his remark meant that he wasn’t married or that Mrs. Barnett was simply not home this evening. Either way, it was none of her business. The man was extending her a bit of hospitality and she needed to accept it graciously, the way her parents had taught her.

At a small, screened-in back porch, he held the door open for her, then did the same with a wooden door that entered the house. Trying not to put too much thought in his huge presence looming just behind her, Dallas stepped inside and found herself in a small kitchen that smelled of baking pizza.

“Have a seat at the table,” he invited. “I’ll get us something to drink. You like coffee?”

“Love it. But don’t go to any trouble,” she told him as she made her way across the room to a small round table. Piled atop it was a child’s backpack with several textbooks spilling from its open lid. Next to the books was a soda can and lying next to that, on a paper towel, a half-eaten sandwich.

Dallas pulled off her coat and placed the garment on the back of a chair, then turned to see the Nevada rancher had already removed his coat and hung it on a peg by the door. The sight of him in the stark kitchen light, without the bulky jacket hiding his frame, jolted her. He was as solid as a rock and everything about him shouted the word man.

“I’d be making a pot whether you were here or not,” he explained. On his way to the cabinets, he caught sight of the cluttered table and instantly changed course. “Here, let me clear that away. Hayley’s not very good about putting her things in her room.”

Dallas chuckled. “I never was a tidy child. My mother was constantly nagging me and my younger sister to put our things where they belonged. Our older sister never got nagged at, though. She was a neat freak.”

Walking over to the table, he leaned across the expanse of worn wood to pick up the scattered items and his upper torso drew within inches of her arm. The subtle scents of hay, horses and sage drifted to Dallas’s nostrils before she instinctively stepped aside to put more breathing space between them.

“So you have sisters,” he stated.

Moistening her lips, she tried to calm the nervous bumping of her heart. “Two. And three brothers,” she answered. “I’m in the middle of the bunch.”

After placing the books and backpack on a nearby rolltop desk, he returned to fetch the sandwich and soda can.

“Well, Hayley doesn’t have a mother to nag her, so I have that thankless job. And from the looks of it, I’m not getting through,” he added with a grimace.

Dallas didn’t make any sort of immediate reply. Since she’d never been a mother, she was hardly in a position to offer parenting advice. And without knowing exactly why his daughter’s mother was absent, she might slip and inadvertently say something he’d find offensive.

Instead, she took a seat at the table and decided to slant the conversation in a different direction. “Do you have siblings, Boone?”

Across the room, he began to put the coffee fixings together. “No. It’s just me. My dad lives in town, and that’s it.”

The information only made Dallas wonder more. Why didn’t Boone’s father live here on the ranch? Did the man’s health require him to live closer to a doctor? she silently mused. Or maybe the elder Barnett just didn’t want to live out in the remote countryside. After all, not all families lived together in one big house, like the Donovans.

“So your father isn’t a rancher?”

Damn it, she was here to buy horses from the man, not make a documentary about his life, she silently scolded herself. But she couldn’t seem to prevent the personal questions from popping from her mouth.

“My grandfather was a rancher. Dad never liked the work much,” he answered bluntly.

Deciding it would be safer to talk about her own family, she said, “The Donovans have always raised horses—Thoroughbred racers. Lately my brothers have been tossing around the idea of putting a few cattle on the ranch or maybe a running line of quarter horses, but those are just ideas. Dad is retired…or should I say semi-retired,” she added with a fond chuckle. “So he mainly lets the guys run things the way they want to.”

“Sounds like the place is a family-run operation,” he commented.

By now he’d shut the lid on the coffeemaker and the pungent smell of the brewing grounds was beginning to overpower the pizza. After driving hours and hours since early this morning, Dallas was definitely in need of the hot brew to fight off the weariness threatening to overtake her.

“It is. My grandparents built the Diamond D back in 1968 and most of the family still lives there together. Except for Grandfather Arthur, who passed away some years back.” She paused and then added, “I noticed on the road map that this ranch is located in Lincoln County. That’s the name of the county where I live.”

“So you’re from the part of New Mexico where the famous range wars occurred,” he said thoughtfully. “And outlaws like Billy the Kid roamed the land.”

Impressed by his historical knowledge, she glanced at him. “That’s right. What’s this Lincoln County known for?”

He shrugged. “Years ago it was all about gold and silver strikes, brothels and lawlessness. Now the mines are dead. But the ranchers have hung on.”

“And the mustangs,” she added.

“Yeah. Thank God for the mustangs.”

The big cowboy was looking straight at her now and Dallas was finding it extremely hard to tell whether he’d spoken with sarcasm or sincerity. He had very dark eyes that had such a piercing quality she could practically feel them sliding over her face and that in itself was enough to distract her. Not to mention the fact that he’d removed his black Stetson and his streaked brown hair had slid to a boyish bang across his forehead.

He said, “It must get interesting at your house—everybody living together. Are you one big happy family or does that only happen in fairy tales or sitcoms?”

Was he saying he didn’t believe families could live and love together? The cynical idea saddened her and put a hint of defensive pride in her voice as she replied, “I can truthfully say that ninety percent of the time we’re all pretty happy.”

“That must be nice,” he said lowly.

“It is nice,” she agreed. “Being with my family is everything to me.”

He turned his back to her and reached up to retrieve two cups from a cabinet shelf. At the table, a pent-up breath whooshed out of Dallas. What was the matter with her? Living on a horse ranch, she’d dealt with all sorts of men before. This one wasn’t necessarily any different. Except that Boone Barnett looked a little sexier, a whole lot tougher and a bit more seasoned than most.

So what if he was all those things? Dallas mentally argued with herself. After being dumped only days before her wedding, she’d learned to view men and their charms with skeptical indifference, especially men that she didn’t know. She couldn’t allow this hunk of male muscle to recklessly turn her head.

Across the room, Boone filled two mugs with coffee while thoughtfully mulling over Dallas Donovan’s remark. Maybe this woman and her “nice” family were for real. But he had a hard time buying into the idea. The Barnetts had always been fractured in some unfortunate way and he’d never been around an extended family that interacted with love and respect for each other.

Yet, in spite of that, he couldn’t say that his family life had always been lacking. For a while, when Boone had been a young boy and his grandparents still living, things had been basically good for him.

Wayne and Alice Barnett had been decent, hardworking people. They’d cared about him, looked after him, given him the love and support he’d needed, while his own parents had only made a halfhearted gesture at raising their only son.

Shoving the dismal thoughts aside, he carried the mugs over to the table, along with a bowl of sugar and a carton of half-and-half. After he’d fetched a spoon and napkin for her, he took a seat across from his guest.

Now that he could see the woman in the light of the kitchen, he decided she looked even prettier than she had in the falling dusk. She had a wide soft mouth the color of a pink seashell and her pale green eyes were veiled by thick, long lashes. A rosy tinge marked her cheeks and straight little nose, and added to the vibrancy of her face. Yet it was her smile and the cheeriness in her eyes that grabbed him the most. She seemed to radiate happiness and that intrigued him, surprised him. Were there actually people like her left in the world? he wondered. Or was she simply putting up a polite front?

“So, when did you decide to add mustangs to your herd?” he asked, while watching her stir a dollop of cream into the steaming coffee. She had long fingers with plain, short nails. There were no rings on her fingers, but there was a wide-cuffed band of silver set with a red coral stone circling her right wrist. That one piece of jewelry would probably buy two months of groceries for him and his daughter.

Thoroughbreds, a six-figure truck and horse van and a family-owned ranch. Those things, coupled with her appearance, made it clear this woman was hardly lacking in financial funds.

“Several months ago a friend purchased a stallion and I was impressed at his intelligence and manners. Seeing him prompted me to look into what the mustangs were all about. That’s when I discovered how many of them need homes. Have you been working with them very long?”

She seemed genuinely interested and Boone was beginning to see she wasn’t simply a rich woman playing at a hobby.

“Eight years. Before that I only had cattle and a few quarter horses on the ranch. When I got my first mustang I never planned on that one animal eventually turning into a business or a love affair for me.” He shrugged, while trying not to feel embarrassed for allowing this woman to see a softer part of him. “It was just something that happened.”

“I—”

She suddenly broke off and lifted her gaze beyond his shoulder. Boone turned his head just in time to see his twelve-year-old-daughter, Hayley, bound into the room. As soon as the girl spotted Dallas, she skidded to a halt and stared openmouthed at their visitor.

“Oh. I didn’t know you had company, Dad.” Keeping her eye on the two adults, she moved past a row of cabinets until she reached a gas range. “I’m cooking pizza—for our dinner. And I think it’s done.”

“Hurry up with that and come over here,” Boone told her. “I want you to meet our guest.”

From her seat at the table, Dallas studied the young girl. Like her father, she was tall and if not a teenager already, then very close to it. Her light brown hair was bobbed short and tucked behind her ears, while her clothing was a typical T-shirt and hip-riding jeans. She wasn’t a dazzling beauty by any stretch of the imagination, but she was pretty. Or at least she would be if she’d smile, Dallas decided. Apparently she took that lack of expression from her father, too.

At the stove, the girl deftly donned a pair of quilted mittens and lifted the pizza from the oven. After she placed the baked concoction on the stove top and switched the control knob to the off position, she walked over to the table and stood stiffly at her father’s shoulder.

“Dallas, this is my daughter, Hayley. And, Hayley, this is Dallas Donovan. She’s driven all the way from New Mexico to purchase a few of our horses.”

Dallas rose to her feet and offered her hand to the girl. Hayley seemed a bit surprised to be greeted in such an adult manner, but after a slight hesitation, she placed her small hand in Dallas’s.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Hayley,” Dallas said. “Do you help your father with the horses?”

The glance she slanted at her father said she wasn’t sure how to answer that question. “Sometimes.”

“With school going on I suppose you don’t have much spare time,” Dallas remarked.

“Not much,” the girl replied. “I’m in seventh grade now and the math is awful.”

Dallas chuckled. “I never did like math. My dad grounded me once because I made a D. After that I had to study or sit home for the whole school year.”

Hayley’s expression perked up as she seemingly decided that Dallas was human after all. “Do you have any kids, Ms. Donovan?”

“Please, call me Dallas,” she said with a smile for the girl. “And no. I’m sorry to say I don’t have any children.”

“Then you’re not married?”

“Hayley! Quit asking personal questions! It’s not polite and you know better,” Boone admonished.

Shaking her head, Dallas sank back into her seat at the table. “It’s all right. Your daughter is curious. There’s nothing wrong with that,” she told Boone, then looked directly at Hayley. “No. I’m not married. What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”

Hayley giggled and Boone shot the child a strange look, which made Dallas wonder if the sound of his daughter laughing was a rare thing, or was it the idea of Hayley having a boyfriend that caught his attention? Either way, Dallas felt totally drawn to the girl.

“Noooo,” Hayley exclaimed, her cheeks a bright pink. “I’m only twelve! Well—I’ll be thirteen in four months. But Dad says that’s too young for a boyfriend.”

Glancing over at him, Dallas noticed that Boone Barnett’s expression had returned to resembling a piece of hard granite, which only proved that he didn’t quite understand a young girl’s dreams and feelings.

Ignoring him for the moment, Dallas said, “Oh. Well, I just thought there might be a boy at school that you liked. You know, like best friends.”

The girl’s gaze instantly dropped to the floor. “The middle school I go to only has about ninety students altogether. So there aren’t that many boys to pick from. But there is one that I like,” she mumbled, then looked directly up at Dallas. “His name is Jeffery. And the rest of the girls call him a nerd. But I like him ’cause he’s polite and smart, not dumb jerks like most of the other boys.”

Dallas tossed her a smile of approval. “He sounds like a winner to me.”

Hayley looked up, her eyes widened with surprise. “Really?”

“Sure. Manners and brains. That’s the combination I’d pick.”

Hayley cast her father a subtle look of triumph, but he said nothing on the subject. Instead, he told his daughter, “You’d better cut the pizza before it gets cold.”

The girl appeared as though she wanted to say more, but at the last moment decided not to press her luck.

As Dallas watched Hayley return to the gas range to deal with the pizza, Boone asked, “Would you like to join us, Dallas? There’s plenty.”

Surprised by the offer, Dallas turned her head to see he was looking at her with those dark brown eyes, surveying her in a way that left her feeling like a turtle without a shell.

“No, thanks. I’d like to get to my hotel room before it gets late.”

After quickly draining the last of her coffee, she rose to her feet. Boone was out of his seat almost at the same time and reached for her heavy jacket. Dallas’s heart beat fast as he held the garment for her to slip her arms into.

She was accustomed to men doing gentlemanly things for her. But she wasn’t expecting such caring manners from this one. Nor was she expecting to feel so breathless, so completely aware of his strong presence.

“I’ll walk you to your truck,” he said. He shouldered on his own jacket and reached for a flashlight that sat on the end of a cabinet counter.

“Goodbye, Hayley,” Dallas said to Boone’s daughter. “It was nice meeting you.”

The girl nodded shyly, then gave her a little wave before Boone opened the door and ushered Dallas out of the kitchen.

Outside, darkness had settled over the ranch and she appreciated the glow of Boone’s flashlight illuminating their path as the two of them moved across the barren yard.

“Is there a special time I need to be here tomorrow?” she asked as they walked briskly toward the truck. “If you have other appointments, I can match my schedule to yours. That’s the least I can do for arriving late today.”

“I don’t have anything pressing going on tomorrow,” he replied. “Come out whenever you’d like.”

As they moved along in the darkness, she realized he was close enough for her to reach over and touch, if she was so minded to. The idea titillated her senses and sent all sorts of questions hurtling through her mind. Mainly, where was Hayley’s mother? And was there some other woman in this man’s life?

Don’t be letting your thoughts stray in that direction, Dallas. The hurt that Allen laid on your heart would be a minor scratch compared to what this cowboy could do to you. Get your business done with the man and get the heck out of here.

“I’ll be out early,” she promised him as she jerked her thoughts back to the real issue.

Once they reached the truck, he closed a hand around her elbow and helped her into the tall cab. Determined not to linger any longer, she closed the door between them and reached to start the engine. To her dismay the truck gave one loud sputter, and then the starter whirled uselessly.

Boone knocked on the door panel to garner her attention and then made a motion for her to lower the window. Dallas did as he asked, then hung her head over the partially opened glass panel.

“Pop the hood,” he instructed. “I’ll have a look.”

She pulled the hood lever, then climbed to the ground while he poked and prodded at several things attached to the engine.

After a few minutes, he finally said, “I don’t see anything undone or broken. Which leads me to think you could be right about the problem being with the fuel.”

She was already half-frozen from being out in the icy wind. It was growing later by the minute and she was miles and miles from Pioche, the only town in the area large enough to have any sort of amenities for a traveler.

“Well,” she said decisively, “I’ll have to call a wrecker and have the truck towed to Pioche. Is there a service you’d recommend?”

The glance he flashed her was full of impatience. “By the time a wrecker drove out here and pulled you back to town it would be the wee hours of the morning. And I doubt you’d find a mechanic that would want to crawl out of bed and start repairing your truck at that hour.”

Not willing to give in to her dire predicament, she asked, “You don’t happen to have a spare vehicle that I could borrow? I’d be happy to pay you for its use.”

He slammed the hood shut on the pricey vehicle and walked back over to where she stood. “Just an old truck we use here on the ranch,” he explained. “It’s not even highway legal.”

“Oh. Well, it was just a thought,” she said, trying her best not to sound dejected.

“Look, Dallas, I’d offer to drive you in to Pioche, but I’m not about to leave Hayley on the ranch by herself and I’m not going to drag her about for three fourths of the night. Especially when tomorrow is a school day.”

She’d not even gotten as far as that solution, Dallas thought. But she could see how the idea of him driving her all the way to Pioche was just as problematic as calling for a wrecker.

She might as well face the fact that she was stranded in the middle of nowhere, without anyone to rely on for help, except this big stone-faced horseman.

“I would never ask you to do such a thing, anyway,” she told him, then released a short, helpless laugh. “But I am going to ask what you suggest I do now?”

A faint grimace tightened his lips. “The way I see it, you have one choice. And that’s to stay here tonight.”

Chapter Two

Stay here? With him? Oh, God, nothing about this trip was turning out the way she’d planned, Dallas thought desperately.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather get back to Pioche. I’ve already interrupted your evening.” She couldn’t imagine spending the night under the same roof with this man. Even if several rooms separated her from this rancher, she’d still know he was close by. She doubted she’d get a wink of sleep.

“The way I see it, you don’t have a choice in the matter.”

Her spine stiffened. She didn’t like anyone, especially a man, telling her that she’d run out of options. She was a doer, a thinker and a fighter. She didn’t just give up on something because it seemed hopeless. Even as a child her parents had bemoaned the fact that Dallas would obstinately refuse to accept the word no. Now, years later, she was still slow to accept it.

“I certainly do have a choice,” she said primly. “I’ll call a wrecker and hitch a ride back into Pioche with him. It won’t kill me if it’s late in the night when I get there. And if my truck can’t be repaired by midmorning, I’ll rent one.”

His features tightened and Dallas realized it was the most emotion he’d shown since she arrived.

“Look, Dallas, I understand this place doesn’t have the luxuries you’re probably accustomed to. But it should be comfortable enough for you to bear up for a night or two.”

It wasn’t exactly sarcasm she heard in his voice, or accusation. He’d merely made a flat statement. As though he knew her inside and out and had already decided she was too soft for his type of life. The idea irked her, but she did her best to keep it hidden. She didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with the man. She’d not driven over a thousand miles to go back home with an empty horse trailer.

Trying not to let irritation show in her voice, she said, “That’s not the issue at all.”

He continued to look at her and Dallas suddenly realized that Boone was the first man in a long, long time who made her remember that she was every inch a woman, complete with desires and frustrations. The notion jolted her even more than being stranded on this remote ranch with him.

“Really? I get the impression that you’re not comfortable with the idea of staying here overnight.” He folded his arms against his chest as he studied her with a thoughtful eye. “If you’re worried about being alone—with me—forget it. I may not look like a gentleman, but I am.”

It was herself she couldn’t trust. Not him. Glad the darkness hid the heat blazing on her cheeks, she said, “I’m not worried about that, either.”

“Good. Then you should realize that getting back to Pioche tonight is senseless,” he stated. “Might as well stay here and deal with the horses in the morning while you wait for a tow truck.”

His suggestion did make sense, Dallas thought. And she supposed she could endure being under this man’s roof for one night. God only knew she was exhausted from the long drive and to think of rattling back over all those rough miles to Pioche tonight was enough to make her ache all over.

She shrugged with resignation. “That does sound less complicated. As long as you’re sure I won’t be a bother to you.”

His expression a smooth blank, he moved a step closer. “If you get to be a bother, I’ll let you know about it. Do you have any bags with you? Or did you leave them at the hotel?”

Seeing he considered the matter settled, she answered, “They’re in the backseat. I didn’t take time to unload them at the hotel. Guess that turned out to be a good thing.”

After fetching her two leather duffels from the truck, he walked off, leaving Dallas to follow on his heels. As they tromped toward the house, she tried not to think of the night ahead or the predicament she’d gotten herself into.

When they reentered the kitchen, Hayley had already disappeared. With his head, Boone motioned toward an arched doorway.

“Follow me and I’ll show you to the room you’ll be using,” he told her. “You might want to freshen up before we eat.”

“Sounds great,” she murmured.

The remainder of the house was larger than the impression Dallas had gotten from the outside view. After they passed through a long family room and into a narrow hallway, it seemed like they walked forever. Or perhaps it only felt that way to Dallas because the two of them were alone and she was having all sorts of trouble keeping her gaze off of Boone Barnett’s backside.

Good grief, the long drive from New Mexico had done something to her, Dallas thought. It wasn’t like she was starved for masculine company. A woman couldn’t be starved without first getting hungry. And Allen’s deception had practically killed her appetite for romance.

Practically, but not completely. Dallas still dated on occasion and she’d not given up entirely on finding the love of her life. Giving up on anything that was important to her just wasn’t in her nature. But men and marriage were things she now viewed in a guarded, practical way.

At one point in her life, she’d planned for her work with horses to only be a part-time career, until she began the full-time job of being a wife and mother. Having a husband and children were the things she really wanted and once she’d gotten engaged to Allen, she was certain her dreams were coming true. She’d been certain of him and his love for her.

Yet she couldn’t have been more wrong. Only days before the wedding Allen had come to her with a confession. His desire to marry her had been motivated by his wish to be a part of the Donovan wealth, not by love. He’d told her that his conscience had prevented him from going through with the marriage. And, Dallas supposed, once their engagement had ended, it had been that same “conscience” that had sent Allen running back to an old flame.

Since that humiliating heartbreak, no man had made her heart go pitter patter. That is, until tonight, when she’d met Boone Barnett.

“We keep this room ready,” Boone told her as he opened a door to their right, “just in case someone needs or wants to stay a few days here on the ranch. Believe it or not, I’ve had a few people suggest I turn the ranch into a resort, so that people can come and enjoy the quietness. They don’t stop to think that once it became a resort there wouldn’t be any quietness around here.”

Glad that his voice had interrupted her tumbling thoughts, she said, “Back home, the Diamond D is so busy that sometimes the place feels like a minimetropolis.”

He carried her bags over to a double bed covered with a white down comforter. The feather-filled blanket sank as he placed the bags on the edge of the mattress. Dallas longingly imagined her body sinking into the softness and sleep temporarily blotting out her problems.

“Are your riding stables located on the family ranch?” he asked.

Her gaze drifted up to his face and suddenly she was imagining him lying beside her, his big hands reaching for her.

Startled by the erotic image, she quickly glanced away from him and swallowed. “Yes. But there’s a ridge of mountain separating them from the main working area of the ranch. So I’m out of the way and the seclusion lets the children pretend they’re riding in the Wild West.”

“Well, there’s no pretending needed here,” he said dryly. “This is the Wild West.”

Dallas would certainly agree. Ever since she’d arrived on Boone’s ranch she’d been having all sorts of wild thoughts and feelings.

He gestured to a door in the far right corner of the room. “There’s a bathroom with a shower. And feel free to use the closet or whatever else you might need.”

She said, “Thanks, but I doubt I’ll be here long enough to hang up my clothes.”

His mouth slanted to a vague smile. “I wouldn’t be too quick to say that. Pioche isn’t exactly overrun with mechanics and parts-supply shops. In fact, I just know of one.”

Even so, she wasn’t going to let that keep her stranded. Christmas was less than a week away. Back on the Diamond D decorations would abound in every room of the house and even extend to the horse barns, where large stockings filled with peppermints and licorice and fresh fruit would hang by each stall door for the horses to enjoy during the holiday. Parties would be held for the house staff, ranch hands and office employees. Then later, family and friends would gather for rich food, warm drinks and lively dancing. Christmas was always the best of times on the Diamond D and Dallas had never missed being home for the holidays. Somehow, someway, she had to get back to New Mexico before all the merrymaking started.

Smiling with as much confidence as she could muster, she said, “Let’s hope the problem will be easy to fix.”

“With vehicles, you never know.”

Did she imagine it, or did his brown eyes momentarily slide from her face down the length of her body? Just the idea that he might be looking at her in that way sent heat crawling up her neck and onto her face.

You’re thirty-two years old, Dallas. Not eighteen. All sorts of men have looked at you “that” way. Boone isn’t any different from them. The difference is that you’re looking back.

“Uh…the room is lovely,” she said with a sudden rush. “I’m sure I’ll be quite comfortable.”

A quirk of a smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Glad I could oblige,” he said. “So whenever you’re finished here, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

With that, Boone left the small bedroom and once he was out of sight a long breath whooshed from Dallas. Oh, dear, oh, dear, she silently moaned. The last thing she needed was to have a breakdown in the middle of nowhere and be forced to stay overnight in a stranger’s house, with a man who had enough sex appeal to curl her toes. And for all she knew, he was probably married!

But if her instincts were right, Boone Barnett wasn’t some woman’s husband. The house simply didn’t have that feminine feel about it. And he’d said that Hayley’s mother wasn’t around. That could only mean the woman had died or lived elsewhere.

Trying to ignore her tumbling thoughts, she slipped out of her jacket, grabbed a hairbrush from one of her bags and headed to the bathroom.

A few short minutes later, she entered the warm kitchen to see Boone placing plates and silverware on the table. As she walked toward him, he glanced up from the simple task to acknowledge her approach.

“I hope you can eat pizza,” he said. “We don’t always eat fast food, but today has been…hectic.”

“Don’t worry about me. I eat anything and everything,” she replied. She noticed only two plates on the table, and asked, “Won’t Hayley be joining us?”

“She mostly eats in her room. And I see three slices of the pizza are missing.”

So he and his young daughter didn’t usually gather around the table for an evening meal together, Dallas pondered. Was that what happened when there was no mother around to hold things together? Except for Boone, Hayley appeared to be alone. The idea bothered Dallas. During her childhood, she’d been swaddled in love and support from family. And over the years that hadn’t changed.

“Is your daughter the only child you have?” The question popped out of Dallas’s mouth before she could stop it.

“Yes. Her mother and I divorced when Hayley was only two.”

His statement brought Dallas up short. That meant he’d been alone for ten years or so! How had that happened? Even though the population in this area appeared to be scarce, surely there were young women around just waiting for a man to propose matrimony, especially a man that looked like Boone Barnett. But maybe one failed marriage had soured him, she decided. Just like Allen’s subterfuge had left her wary of men and doubting she’d ever find one who could really love her.

Trying to turn off her curiosity about this rancher, she watched him carry the pizza over to the table. “Is there anything I can help you with?” she offered.

“No, thanks. I can manage.” He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to take a seat. “Just relax. I’ll bring the rest over. Is soda okay for you? Or water?”

“Water, please.”

While he went to fetch the last of their meal, Dallas eased down in the wooden dining chair. While she’d been in her room, he’d used the short time to make a salad. Two bottles of dressing and a shaker of Parmesan cheese sat alongside the food. As Dallas looked at the simple meal, she couldn’t help thinking how different it was for her family.

The Diamond D had always employed a cook and maids. If anyone came in from a late night of work, he or she didn’t have to scrounge up a meal. A substantial plate of dinner would always be left in the warming drawer or the refrigerator. And after it was eaten, there was no need to bother cleaning up the mess. Someone would come by later and take care of the chore.

But Boone wasn’t so privileged to have such extensive hired help. He didn’t even have a wife to help him with household tasks, much less share the responsibilities of caring for Hayley. The fact that he had any time left to train horses amazed Dallas.

Returning to the table with their drinks, he took a seat directly across from Dallas and she firmly told herself not to think of the quiet supper as anything more than an intake of food.

Carefully avoiding his gaze, she said, “After we eat, I’ll call the hotel and let them know I won’t be showing up tonight. I had reservations at the old hotel in town—the one with the saloon downstairs below the rooms. I understand it’s a favorite with tourists and the locals.”

He handed the salad bowl to her. “That’s what I hear.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she could only assume that the establishment wasn’t a social spot he frequented. But then she’d already gotten the impression that Boone wasn’t the socializing sort.

Ladling a small amount of salad onto her plate, she said, “You were saying earlier that a cell phone won’t work out here. Do you mean just for the time being, or do cells never work here on the ranch?”

“I meant never,” he answered. “You might get a usable signal in town, depending on the service you use. But even that is iffy. You might be able to send a text message from here. I don’t know—I’m not up on that technical sort of stuff.”

She offered the bowl of salad to him. “I see. Well, it’s mostly like that on our ranch, too,” she told him. “We live between mountain ranges and the signal is blocked.” Smiling, she shrugged. “When city folks show up on the Diamond D they think they’ve stepped in the twilight zone. Some people just can’t manage life without their technical gadgets. I use them, but on the other hand I can happily exist without them. And sometimes simpler is better. Take my truck, for instance. If the engine wasn’t controlled by a computer system, I could probably adjust the carburetor with a screwdriver and be on my way.”

As soon as her words died away, she realized she’d been rattling and her cheeks blushed with embarrassment. She opened her mouth to apologize for all the chatter, but immediately pressed her lips back together. She wasn’t going to apologize for being herself. Besides, it didn’t matter if she was getting on Boone’s nerves. He’d already ripped hers to shreds.

For the next few moments they both busied themselves with filling their plates. As they began to eat, Dallas remained quiet and so did Boone.

Eventually, after she’d downed a whole slice of meaty pizza, he decided to speak. “Progress means changes and I don’t like changes. I suppose that’s why I like living here. It keeps me away from most of it.”

There was nothing wrong with being a bit old-fashioned; she was behind the times on some things herself. And if Boone chose to live that way, that was his business. After all, he was a grown man. But it was a different situation with Hayley. As a child, she probably had no say in the matter, and Dallas couldn’t help but wonder how the young girl felt about living in such a secluded way. Surely Hayley missed doing the typical things that tweens and teens enjoyed, like calling and texting friends or spending the evening at the mall or the cinema.

Even though Dallas had grown up in the country and understood what it was like to live without the lights and excitement of town, she’d not been nearly as isolated as Hayley. Getting from the Diamond D to civilization was easy compared to the trip between Pioche and White River Ranch. Plus, she’d had siblings and neighboring friends no more than three miles away. Clearly, the distance between Hayley and her friends had to be much greater.

“Carburetors haven’t been around for years,” he said after a moment. “You’re too young to know about such things.”

His remarks interrupted her thoughts about Hayley and she was glad. Questions about this man and his daughter were beginning to consume her and that couldn’t be good. Once she left Nevada their paths would most likely never cross again.

Smiling vaguely, she said, “I’m thirty-two—that’s not so young. And the mechanics—well, I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy and the man who repairs the old trucks and tractors on our ranch is like a granddad to me. When I was around Hayley’s age, I’d trail along with him just to hear him tell stories—not about machinery, but about horses. I guess I digested more about motors than I realized.”

He cast a thoughtful glance at her. “Is running the stables your only job?”

Was he actually curious about her, Dallas wondered, or simply trying to maintain a conversation? Either way, she was surprised he was bothering to ask questions.

She said, “My younger sister is a doctor and my older sister a nurse. I’ve been asked a jillion times why I didn’t follow them into a medical field. But that’s not me. Nothing outside the ranch is me, I guess. I have a degree in livestock-and land-management. But the one thing I’m truly good at is horses. Pitiful, isn’t it?”

For the first time since she’d met him, the corners of his mouth turned upward enough to constitute a genuine smile. The sight of it was like a ray of sunshine melting right through her. Oh, dear, the man was doing something to her and he wasn’t even trying, she thought desperately.

“I wouldn’t call you…pitiful.”

Her mouth like cotton, she reached for her water glass. The crystal clear liquid had a faint metallic taste, as though it had come from deep within the ground. And she supposed it had. During the twenty-mile trip out here, she’d not spotted any creeks or rivers. Only windmills. It was a harsh land toiled by an even tougher man, she decided.

“Well,” she said, “blame my lack of outside interest on my father. By the time I was old enough to walk he had me down at the barns and exercise track. For years, I didn’t know life beyond the four-legged creatures existed. And by the time I was old enough to realize there were other things in the world, I wasn’t interested in pursuing any of them.”

His head bent over his plate, but not before she saw the corners of his mouth turn downward. “You told Hayley that you didn’t have a husband or kids. Is that true?”

Two years, or even a year ago, his question would have filled her with pain and an utter sense of loss. Now she was stronger. Now she could think of Allen and thank God that she’d not made the horrible mistake of marrying him.

“It’s hard for a tall girl to get a date,” she joked, then when he didn’t appear to be amused, she added in a more sober tone, “Seriously, the right man just hasn’t come along. I came close to marrying once but he… Well, that didn’t work out. And since then most of the men I’ve dated always ended up trying to pull me away from the ranch and what I do. And I end up pulling back. A tug-of-war tears people and marriages apart. I’m smart enough to know that.”

Lifting his gaze to hers, he said softly, “Yes. I believe you are just that—smart.”

Even though his face was impossible to read, she could tell from his voice that he’d meant the comment as a compliment. Though she didn’t know why, the idea was ridiculously pleasing to her.

As Boone watched Dallas fork a morsel of food to her mouth, he couldn’t help thinking how the day had turned out to be a strange one. First thing this morning, he’d found a mama-to-be cat in the barn. Since he had no cats and his nearest neighbor was at least ten miles away, he didn’t know where she’d come from or how she’d gotten to the ranch. In any case, she’d made herself at home and trotted along behind him as though she was certain he was going to be more than happy to be her master. And then his old ranch horse, the gelding he’d had for more than fifteen years—the one who was so ill-natured he kicked or bit any four-legged creature that happened to come near his end of the feed trough—had eaten his breakfast snuggled up to a mustang mare, as though he’d found himself a little angel. Now here Boone was sitting at the supper table with a woman.

What were the chances of a new truck going on the blink? he asked himself. Damn little to none, that’s how many. And if someone had told him a woman with pretty red hair and a soft smile would be warming up his kitchen tonight, he’d have declared the person crazy. Yeah, the day had been unusual, he decided. And the night was just starting.

“How long have you lived on this ranch?” she asked.

For a moment his gaze was caught on her lips and the way the plush curves moved as they formed words. The gentle tilt at the corners of her mouth implied she was constantly smiling and he tried to imagine what it might be like to live with a woman like her, a woman who wasn’t staring at him with vacant eyes and an expression of utter detachment.

She’s not Joan. But she could still cause you a ton of trouble. Especially if you don’t get your eyes off her lips and your mind back to business.

Boone shifted in his seat. “Ever since I was born—thirty-nine years ago.”

“That’s a long time,” she replied, then laughed contritely. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you’re old. I just meant that thirty-nine years is a long time for anyone to be in one spot.”

“You’ve stayed in the same spot all your life. Or so you said,” he pointed out, while thinking it had been ages and ages since he’d had a conversation like this with a woman.

There were occasional times, when his father was sober enough to have Hayley visit, or when she stayed overnight with friends, that Boone would go into town for a beer and a willing woman. But those instances were not just rare, they were different. This woman was different.

“That’s true. I have lived my whole life on the Diamond D,” she admitted. “And I don’t plan to leave it, either.”

The last statement she said with conviction and Boone tended to believe what she said. After all, she was thirty-two and still living on the ranch. Obviously no man had been able to pull her away. He liked that about her and the fact that she had an independent streak. Even more, she seemed confident about the things she wanted. Too bad Joan hadn’t been that strong and decisive. His ex-wife had never known what, if anything, could make her happy. At one time, she’d believed her happiness lay solely in Boone. But she’d been confused about him and this life he’d chosen to lead; just as she’d been confused about her own life and where she fit in this world.

Biting back a sigh of regret, he said, “My grandparents purchased this stretch of range when my father was a young teenager—just a bit older than Hayley. Before then, Granddad worked in the silver mines. But he’d come from a ranching family down in Arizona and that way of life was in his blood. He took what money he’d managed to save over the years and sank it into this place. And for the past decade I’ve leased four hundred thousand acres of public land to go with it for extra grazing.”

Boone stabbed his fork into the pizza on his plate and wondered what the hell had prompted him to say all those things. Normally he never talked about his past or his family. And he especially didn’t share such personal things with horse buyers. But for some reason Dallas felt like more than a visiting horse buyer. Maybe that was because she was continuing to study him with genuine interest. Or had it been so long since he’d spent time with a woman that he was reading Dallas all wrong?

“What about your father?” she asked. “He’s not a rancher?”

The thought of Newt Barnett was enough to cause Boone to clench his teeth. The man had always been a sponger, and for the most part had ignored his responsibilities as a father, a husband and even as a son. He’d squandered and drank and whined through most of his life. And yet Newt expected Boone to forgive his mistakes and show him the love and respect of a father. Boone had never wanted to think of himself as a hard-hearted person, but Newt was yet to give him one good reason to love and respect him.

“Ranching is hard work,” Boone said flatly. “Newt has always wanted things the easy way.”

Dallas’s hand fluttered up to her throat and Boone could see his statement had disturbed her. He probably shouldn’t have been so blunt. But Boone never was one to sugarcoat anything and he sure as hell wasn’t going to try to pretend his father was a respectable, productive citizen of Lincoln County. Not even to impress this lady.

“You sound—” her gaze dropped awkwardly to her plate “—as though the two of you don’t get along very well.”

“We never have,” he admitted. “But that’s a whole other story.”

Several awkward moments passed in silence and then she said, “My grandparents emigrated from Ireland and first settled in Kentucky. But by the 1960s, Grandfather Arthur got the urge to travel west and acquire more land. He fell in love with New Mexico and decided it was the perfect place to raise his Thoroughbreds. Out of two daughters and a son, Dad was the only child who stayed in the business and kept the ranch going.” She cast a wry glance at him, as though she wasn’t sure she should ask her next question. “Where are your grandparents now?”

His dark brown eyes flickered with raw emotions and Dallas realized he wasn’t the indifferent cowboy she’d first believed him to be.

“Dead,” he said bluntly. “They’d gone on a hunting trip and the small aircraft they were traveling in hit an ice storm over the Montana plains and crashed. They were only in their fifties at the time. I was just fifteen and it… Well, it took me a long time to accept that the both of them were really gone. When you’re young you think you’ll have your loved ones around forever.”

Somewhere in his husky voice Dallas could hear his loss and the idea of Boone going through such a tragedy thickened her throat and tangled her usually ready words. “You must have been…utterly crushed.”

He looked away from her. “Yeah, crushed was right. You see, from the time I was a little toddler, they’d basically been my parents.” Shrugging, he brought his gaze back to hers. “But things happen and life goes on.”

She wanted to ask more. Like why had his grandparents been raising him and what had happened after their death, but the temptation to question him further was suddenly interrupted as he rose to his feet and walked over to the cabinet.

“Hayley made cookies yesterday,” he said from across the room. “I guess they’ll have to do for dessert. I’ll make fresh coffee to go with them.”

Since he appeared to be finished with his meal, Dallas downed her last bite and gathered up their dirty plates. As she placed them on the cabinet counter, her gaze swept over the varnished pine cabinets and white appliances. Even though there was a bit of clutter here and there, everything was very clean. Did Hayley help him with the kitchen cleaning chores? Or maybe he had a cleaning woman come in at different times during the week.

Quit pretending, Dallas. You’re not wondering about a cleaning woman. You’re wondering about Boone having a woman in his life.

Annoyed with herself and the tacky voice chiming from somewhere inside of her, she walked back over to the table and began to gather up the remainder of the meal.

This was not the way her trip was supposed to be going, she thought with a bit of desperation. She’d come here with plans to buy horses. Not to be trapped on a ranch with a man who was quickly and surely starting to consume her every thought.

She had to get a grip and remember that the only stud she was looking for was the four-legged kind. But each time her gaze rested on Boone she had difficulty remembering anything—except that she was a woman and he was one very unforgettable man.

And the night had only begun.

Chapter Three

“Don’t bother with that,” Boone said as she carried an armful of dishes across the room. “Hayley will deal with it later.”

“I don’t mind,” she insisted. “It’s the least I can do for you so graciously putting me up tonight.”

While the coffee brewed, Dallas scraped the dishes and stacked them to one side of the porcelain sink. Just to her right, Boone pulled a lid from a plastic container and placed several cookies on a paper plate.

For some reason, standing near him like this, doing domestic chores together, felt even more intimate than when he was showing her the bedroom. Although she tried to ignore it, her heart was going at a fast clip and she feared her cheeks were flushed with color.

“If you’d like, we can take this in the family room,” he suggested. “You can use the phone in there.”

Clearing her throat, she was quick to agree. “Sounds good to me.”

After he placed the coffee and the cookies on a plastic tray, she followed him out of the kitchen and down to the family room. As she took in the simply furnished area, she noticed a huge fireplace took up the major part of one wall. A warm welcoming fire would have gone a long way in brightening the room, but presently the hearth was cold and dark.

As if he could read her thoughts, he said, “I’ve cleared away most of the underbrush on the ranch and there’s not much left to burn. To have a fire every evening, I’d have to drive up to Ely and buy firewood, so I’ve been rationing until my next trip.”

“And I’m sure it’s expensive,” she stated.

“Very.”

He gestured to a long green sofa and matching armchair. “Have a seat anywhere you’d like. The phone is there at the end of the sofa.”

“Thanks.” She sank down on the sofa, then reached for the phone and directory resting beneath it.

After a quick explanation to the hotel clerk, Dallas placed the receiver back on its hook, then helped herself to the coffee and cookies that Boone had left on the table in front of her.

“If you need to call your family—or anyone—to let them know you arrived safely, please do.”

Dallas looked over to see he’d settled comfortably back in the chair and crossed his ankles out in front of him. The jeans covering his long, muscled legs were faded nearly white, the hems slightly frayed. His snub-toed cowboy boots had once been brown roughout leather, but were now smooth and dark from countless hours of wear. Dallas doubted he’d ever seen the inside of a department store or mall and if he had, he’d gone there reluctantly. Still, he was the perfect image for a jeans commercial. An idea he’d no doubt laugh at, she thought.

“I called my family when I first arrived at Pioche. So they know I’ve made the trip safely. Right now I don’t want to worry Liam needlessly about the truck. At least, not until I can give him an exact problem.”

Boone said, “I hope he wasn’t planning on using the truck anytime soon.”

Dallas darted him a sharp glance. He made it sound like getting her vehicle running again was going to take days instead of hours. Oh, God, that couldn’t happen. She couldn’t spend days with this man. It would wreck her!

Trying not to think the worst, she replied, “Most of the tracks on the West Coast won’t be having any major races to speak of until after the New Year. So my brother won’t be doing much traveling. That’s one of the reasons why I planned the trip for this month. Plus with Christmas coming up, many of my kids won’t be visiting the stables. They’re involved with family holiday things right now.”

From the moment she’d arrived on the ranch, Dallas had noticed there were no holiday decorations to be seen in or out of the Barnett house. Maybe they practiced some sort of religion that didn’t celebrate Christmas, she thought, as she munched on an oatmeal-and-raisin cookie. But she seriously doubted that was the reason for the lack of festiveness. She was more inclined to think that Boone had forgotten how to celebrate anything.

“Are your stables closed while you’re away?” he asked.

“No. My sister-in-law, Lass, is my assistant and she’s keeping the place running for the few children who do show up.”

Earlier today, when Dallas had called home, her mother had given her breaking family news that amounted to a double whammy. At breakfast this morning Lass and Brady had revealed they were expecting a second child and before they’d hardly gotten the words out of their mouths, Bridget and Johnny had announced their first child was on its way. In a few months two babies would be arriving in the Donovan family at the same time. Dallas was thrilled for her brother and her sister, yet somehow the news had left her feeling a bit melancholy. She was already thirty-two. Would there ever come a day, she wondered, when she would become a mother? It didn’t seem likely. Not when the idea of giving her heart to another man made her want to turn tail and run.

Not wanting to dwell on that miserable thought, she turned her gaze back on Boone to see he was studying her with those dark, brooding eyes. Did he ever think about having a baby with another woman? The notion bothered her in more ways than she wanted to admit.

Swallowing to ease the tightness in her throat, she asked, “Do you have hired help on your ranch? Or do you do it all yourself?”

“I have a man who comes in three or four days a week to help with the ranch work. Depending on what’s going on.”

On the opposite side of the room, directly across from the couch, there was a small television. Presently the screen was black, a status that didn’t surprise Dallas. In fact, she couldn’t imagine this rugged cowboy sitting down to watch a drama or sitcom. Maybe the news. But nothing for the sole purpose of entertainment.

She was still speculating as to what he’d consider entertainment when the telephone beside her suddenly rang. The unexpected sound caused her to flinch and her head jerked toward the jangling instrument.

Making no move to answer it, he said, “Hayley will pick it up. It’s usually for her, anyway. You know how it is with kids.”

There was that subject again. Kids, children, babies. Normally she didn’t dwell on her single status. But something about Boone and his daughter, coupled with the news of Lass’s and Bridget’s pregnancies, had gotten to her, making her want to weep and scream at the same time.

Biting back a sigh, she gave him a wan smile. “I imagine you—”

Her comment was cut short as Hayley suddenly yelled from somewhere in the hallway. “Dad! It’s for you! Can you pick up the phone?”

“Who’s calling?”

The girl came trotting into the room, carrying a portable phone with her hand clamped tightly over the receiver. She started toward Boone, then stopped short when she spotted Dallas on the couch.

Her face a mixture of perplexed pleasure, she said, “Oh! Dallas! I thought you’d left.”

Dallas smiled at her. “I thought I was leaving, too. But my truck decided to call it quits.”

“Hayley, the phone. Who is it?”

Boone’s question jerked the girl’s attention back to her father. “It’s Billy Hopper. Something about welding on the hay loader.”

“Excuse me, Dallas,” he said, then quickly rose to his feet, took the phone from Hayley and exited the room.

Once her father was out of sight, Hayley walked over to the sofa and sank onto the edge of the cushion next to Dallas.

“What are you gonna do now?” she asked curiously. “Is Dad gonna drive you to Pioche tonight?”

Dallas shook her head. “No. I’m going to stay here for the night. I hope you don’t mind,” she added. “Your father assured me that you sometimes have guests on the ranch.”

Hayley’s features suddenly perked with interest. “Uh—we’ve had a few, but they’ve all been old men. But…well…gosh, it’ll be nice to have you stay!”

Dallas smiled with relief. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

Her eyes sparkling, Hayley scooted closer to Dallas. “Earlier, when you said goodbye I was wishing you could stay longer. I’ve never seen anybody as pretty as you. And I wanted to ask you what it’s like where you live and things like that. Would you care to tell me?”

She’d never expected such an endearing reaction from Hayley. In fact, she’d thought the girl would probably resent the intrusion of having a guest in the house.

“Thank you for the compliment, Hayley, but I’m just average-looking. I have two sisters who are much prettier than I am.”

“Wow, you have two sisters?” she asked, then like a switch had been flipped, her expression turned glum. “I wish I had a sister or even a brother. But I guess all I’ll ever have is just me.”

Dallas let out a silent groan. Babies. She just couldn’t get away from the subject tonight.

“Your father is still young,” Dallas said with as much encouragement as she could muster. “He might marry again and have more children.”

Shaking her head, Hayley leaned toward Dallas and lowered her voice. “Dad wouldn’t like it if he heard me talking about this kind of stuff. And I don’t ever—but you’re a grown-up woman and I don’t get to talk to anybody like you.”

Dallas was perplexed. “What about your friends? Surely they have mothers you can talk with?”

The girl wrinkled up her nose. “I don’t trust any of them. They’re all friends of my dad’s and whatever I said might get back to him. And then I’d be grounded for weeks.”

“Oh. I see.” Dallas reached over and patted the girl’s hand. “Well, for what it’s worth, you can trust me. I’ll keep our conversation in confidence.”

Sighing with relief, Hayley quickly leaned closer and lowered her voice another notch. “Well, the reason I don’t think I’ll ever get a brother or sister is ’cause Dad doesn’t want to ever get married again. Because my mother was so awful. And he says that so many years would be between me and a little brother or sister that we most likely wouldn’t be close. But I believe we would. Dad just uses that for an excuse. And it’s a dumb one.”

Dallas ached for this young girl with sad brown eyes and a wish in her heart to belong to a whole family. “Do you see your mother often?”

Hayley shot her a puzzled, almost comical look. “Often? Shoot, I never see her. Dad says I was three the last time she came around. But I don’t remember it.”

Dazed by what she was hearing, Dallas hardly knew how to respond to this girl who seemed so hungry for female guidance. “I’m sorry, Hayley. That must be rough.”

The girl shrugged one shoulder as though to say she wasn’t bothered by the fact. But Dallas could see that being abandoned by her mother had obviously had a profound effect on the child.

Hayley said, “I don’t sweat it that much. I mean, I don’t remember her, so there’s not a lot for me to miss. Dad says she had psychological problems and had to live in a mental clinic for a while. Now I guess she’s well enough. She’s married to someone else. Once in a while I get a postcard from her. But that’s about it.”

Oh, God, what kind of woman could simply walk away from her own daughter? A woman who had some sort of mental or emotional breakdown, Dallas realized. But if she’d gotten well enough to remarry, what was her reason for staying away from Hayley now? Boone? No. Dallas couldn’t imagine him keeping his ex-wife away from their daughter just for spiteful reasons.

“So your mother didn’t have any more children?” Dallas asked while trying to tell herself she wasn’t prying. Hayley clearly needed to talk and it wasn’t like Dallas was going to take the information and spread it.

Dropping her head in a guilty manner, Hayley mumbled, “No. Something happened after I was born and she couldn’t have more kids. That’s what my grandma Elsa told me once.” Turning a wistful expression on Dallas, she asked, “Do you have a nice mother?”

Hayley’s ingenuous question caused tears to sting the back of Dallas’s eyes. “Yes. She’s a wonderful mother. Her name is Fiona. And my grandmother, Kate, lives with us, too. And I have three brothers, also.”

“Boy, your house must be full of people.”

“Most of the time it is.” Dallas reached for another cookie. “Your father said you baked these. They’re delicious.”

Hayley shrugged again. “Cookies are no big deal. I’ve been making them for a long time. I’m learning to cook whole meals now. Dad says I’m doing good. But sometimes I burn things.”

At Hayley’s age, Dallas had hated doing anything in the kitchen, and she still wasn’t all that good at putting a meal together. Clearly Hayley wasn’t nearly as much of a tomboy as Dallas had been.

“You like to cook?” she asked the girl.

“Sure. There’s not much else to do around here. And I like helping Dad. He works so hard. With the horses and all. And he never spends any money on himself. He’s saving it all for me. So that I can go to college. I wish he wouldn’t do that. But he won’t listen to me,” she said, ending her declaration with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess dads are just like that.”

Yes, the good ones, Dallas thought. And she was beginning to see that Boone was one of the good ones. He might not understand all of Hayley’s feminine needs, but he obviously was making sure her home and future were secure.

“My father worked hard and sacrificed for his children, too,” she told the girl.

“What does he do?”

“He’s mostly retired now. But he raises Thoroughbred horses and races them. Do you know what they are?”

Her eyes suddenly glowing, Hayley bobbed her head and Dallas decided this was the first real excitement she’d seen on the girl’s face.

“Oh, yeah! One time we went to Elko to the fair. They were having races and we went to the paddock and watched them saddle the Thoroughbreds. They were so big and beautiful and I told Dad we should get some. But he said we wouldn’t have any use for those kinds of horses on the ranch. He said they were only for running fast.” Hayley gave her eyes an impatient roll. “He should know that some of us like to run fast just for the fun of it. Don’t you?”

Dallas found it impossible to hide her smile. Especially when she could easily recall how it was to be Hayley’s age, to swing upon a horse’s back and race across the open field with the wind blowing in her face and the rush of exhilaration humming through her. There had been countless occasions when her father, Doyle, had admonished Dallas for riding recklessly. But she’d been young and fierce then. Just the way she suspected Hayley was now.

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