“Why did you ask me out here today?”

“Because I like you,” he said simply. “And because when I’m with you, all I can think about is kissing you.”

Her stomach did a flip. Her heart fluttered. The sun seemed even brighter and the sky even bluer.

“Say something,” he muttered. “If you want me to get back on my horse and forget this conversation ever happened.”

“Do you kiss with your hat on or off?”

With his hands still holding hers, he smiled. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”

“It’s nice to be first at something,” she joked.

“Raina, you are the most intriguing woman I have come across in years. And to kiss you, I’m definitely taking my hat off.” When he leaned in closer to her, she closed her eyes.

But his mouth didn’t cover hers. Instead, she felt his lips touch whisper-soft, slightly above her ear.

“A kiss shouldn’t be too quick.”

Dear Reader,

I’ll always remember the first time my husband and I really talked. In sharing, we connected on a deep level, inspiring trust that has lasted through the years. To form that bond, we had to become vulnerable to each other.

My hero, Shep McGraw, is a strong, silent Texan. A marriage of convenience teaches him he must lower his guard to trust his new wife. By risking vulnerability, he discovers the love and understanding that can lead to happily ever after.

I hope you enjoy Shep’s transformation from guarded single dad to my heroine Raina’s white knight. Shep and Raina’s romance is Book 5 in my THE BABY EXPERTS series. I hope readers will look forward to Book 6 in the series, coming in December 2010.

Readers can learn more about THE BABY EXPERTS at www.karenrosesmith.com.

All my best,

Karen Rose Smith

The Texan’s Happily-Ever-After
Karen Rose Smith

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KAREN ROSE SMITH

Award-winning and bestselling author Karen Rose Smith has seen more than sixty-five novels published since 1992. She grew up in Pennsylvania’s Susquehanna Valley and still lives a stone’s throw away with her husband—who was her college sweetheart—and their two cats. She especially enjoys researching and visiting the West and Southwest where her latest series of books is set. Readers can receive updates on Karen’s releases and write to her through her Web site at www.karenrosesmith.com or at P.O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331.

To Sis and Bern, our son’s godparents.

Thanks for the difference you made in his life.

Happy birthday, Sis. Bern, we miss you.

Author’s Note

Adoption procedures may vary according to state, individual circumstances and agencies.

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

Shep McGraw hurried to the emergency-room door. In his arms, two-year-old Manuel let out a cry that echoed in the hospital’s parking lot.

Tension and worry tightened Shep’s chest. He’d been through this before with Manuel’s earaches. Thank goodness Dr. Raina Gibson, the boy’s ear, nose and throat specialist, had been on call for her practice tonight. He thought about his two other sons, who were with their nanny. They hadn’t liked him leaving this late at night.

As Shep rushed through the automatic glass doors, he remembered another fateful E.R. visit many, many years ago. He shoved that out of his mind and hugged Manuel closer.

The woman in charge at the registration desk looked him over—from his tan Stetson to his fine leather boots—and he had to rein in his frustration with red tape. “My name’s Shep McGraw. I’m meeting Dr. Gibson here to treat my…son.”

“Mr. McGraw, if you’ll have a seat—”

Manuel’s crying had tapered off slightly, but now he screwed up his cute little round face and howled loud enough to scare his black wavy hair into disarray.

Shep shifted Manuel to his shoulder. “My boy needs someone to look at him now.” He was about to add that the Lubbock hospital had all of his information on file, when Dr. Gibson came through a side door and crossed to the desk.

Although Manuel’s crying still rent the waiting area, the beautiful doctor’s appearance impacted Shep as it always did. Her Native American heritage was attractively obvious in the angles of her cheekbones and chin. Tonight she’d pulled her long black hair back into a low ponytail and clasped it with a beaded barrette. The white coat she wore molded to her long legs as she hurried toward him.

She greeted the woman at the desk as she reached for Manuel. “I’ll take him back, Flo.”

After patting Manuel’s back and making soothing noises that quieted him, she said to Shep, “Give Flo your insurance card so she can put through the paperwork.” Then she headed for the door leading to the examination cubicles, motioning him to follow.

Shep took out his insurance card, slapped it onto the desk and followed Raina. He couldn’t help but admire her graceful stride, the straightness of her shoulders, even as she held Manuel and headed for the exam room. He had to smile at the sneakers she wore that made her look more like a runner than a doctor.

All was quiet for the moment in this part of the E.R. wing. Manuel’s cries had faded to tiny hiccups. Shep felt so sad sometimes for this little boy, who’d been neglected, taken away from his mother and put in a foster home. Shep knew all about foster homes firsthand, though there was no indication the couple who’d cared for Manuel was anything like the foster parents Shep had lived with.

At the door to the exam room, Dr. Gibson paused and waited for Shep to precede her inside. Although Shep considered himself more cowboy than gentleman, he motioned her to go ahead of him. With a small smile and a quick nod, she did. But when she passed him, he caught the scent of lemon and his stomach twisted into a knot, as it did whenever he got too close to her. He didn’t get too close to her if he could help it—for lots of very good reasons.

Raina glanced at Shep as she settled Manuel on the gurney. “On the phone you told me this started about an hour ago?”

“Yes. Before I put him in his crib. At first I thought he was just overtired or didn’t want to go to bed. But then he started pulling on his ear, so I took his temperature and saw he had a fever.”

“I’ll take it again,” she assured him with quiet efficiency. Her gaze met his. The earth seemed to shake a little and they both quickly looked away.

With coiled energy wound tight inside him, Shep moved to the gurney to hold Manuel. He hadn’t intended it, but somehow his hands got tangled up with hers before she pulled them away from the little boy. Their gazes connected again…and this time held. Shep’s blood rushed fast, and in that instant, he thought he saw returned interest in the pretty doctor’s very dark brown eyes.

A moment later, he guessed he was mistaken. In a small town like Sagebrush, Texas, where they both lived—about fifteen minutes from Lubbock, where this hospital was located—certain people had a higher gossip profile than others. Dr. Gibson was one of them.

He’d asked his nanny, Eva, if she knew any particulars about the doctor, and he still remembered what Eva had said. “Her husband was a firefighter in New York City. He died saving others on September eleventh. Somehow, she picked up her life and finished her schooling, then returned here to be with her family. I can only imagine what she’s gone through, and it’s not something I ever want to even think about going through.”

As Shep studied Raina Gibson now, he saw no signs of a tragic past—unless it had carved those tiny lines under her eyes and fostered the ever-present quiet and calm he sensed about her.

She went to the counter, where she took an ear thermometer from its holder. When she returned to the table, she focused solely on Manuel. “This little guy has been through so much. I feel so sorry for him. Another ear infection is the last thing he needs.” She cut Shep a sideways glance. “Or you need. How are Joey and Roy?” She had treated eight-year-old Joey last year for a sinus infection that wouldn’t quit.

“They’re good. They get upset when Manuel’s sick, though. Roy’s afraid he’ll lose more of his hearing.”

Raina studied Manuel’s temperature and frowned. “It’s one hundred one.” Seconds later she was examining the toddler with the otoscope and then her stethoscope. Finally, she gave Shep her verdict. “I don’t like the looks of this, Mr. McGraw.”

“Shep,” he corrected her, not for the first time. After all, Manuel had seen her at least three times over the past six months.

Now she didn’t avoid his gaze, but looked him directly in the eyes. That was his first clue he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

“Okay, Shep.”

That was the second clue. He had the feeling she’d used his first name to soften the blow.

“I’ll give you a prescription again for Manuel, to get this cleared up. But I have to recommend that you let me do a procedure to put tubes in his ears. I’m afraid if we don’t, he’ll lose his hearing altogether.”

Before he caught himself, Shep swore. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just don’t want to put him through anything else.” He picked up his son from the table, easily lifted him to his shoulder where Manuel snuggled against his collarbone.

Raina’s gaze was sympathetic, her voice gentle. “I know what he’s dealt with already. But he’s in your care now, and I can see that you love him. You have to think beyond the procedure to when he’s three or four. You have to do what’s best for him long-term.”

Shep patted Manuel’s back. Finally, he said, “Tell me what’s involved.”

Taking a few steps closer, Raina stopped within arm’s reach. “The surgery’s called a myringotomy. I make a tiny incision in the eardrum and any fluid will be removed. Then I’ll insert a tympanostomy tube into the drum to keep the middle ear aerated. We’ll leave the tubes in from six months to several years.”

She was close enough that Shep was aware of her body heat as well as his. “Will he have to have surgery to remove them again?”

Tilting her head, she ran her hand over Manuel’s hair then brought her gaze back to Shep. “No. Eventually they’ll extrude from the eardrum and fall into the ear canal. I’ll be able to remove them during a routine office visit, or they’ll just fall out of his ears.”

Shep could hardly imagine his small son in this big hospital, with medical personnel caring for him. “And you believe we have to do this?”

“Shep, Manuel has already lost some hearing. You know that from the assessment I did. I’m afraid if we don’t do this, he’ll have speech problems, too.”

“And the downside?”

“I’ll give you a sheet of information and you can read about the pros and cons. As often as you’re bringing Manuel to me, I don’t think you have a choice.”

“I hate hearing statements like that,” Shep muttered.

Manuel began crying again and Shep rocked him back and forth. “How long will this operation take?” he asked over the baby’s heartbreaking distress.

Raina leaned closer to him, as if in empathy…as if she might want to take Manuel into her arms again…as if she hated seeing a child cry.

“Ten to fifteen minutes. It’s done on an outpatient basis. Manuel will be given anesthesia. Once he’s recovered from that, he can go home. Chances are good he’ll feel better right away, because that pressure in his ears will be released. He’s been suffering with this for too long. And so have you,” she added with an understanding Shep found almost unsettling.

Again, their gazes locked and neither of them seemed to be able to look away. Shep didn’t know what was happening to him, but he didn’t like it. Every time he stared into those impossibly dark eyes of hers he felt unnerved, and if he was forced to admit it, aroused. That wasn’t what he should feel, standing in this cubicle with her while he held Manuel. He should feel grateful…nothing else.

He must have been scowling from here into the next county, and she misinterpreted his expression. “I know you’re worried. Every parent worries when anything is wrong with his child. But try to anticipate a positive outcome. Think about Manuel not having any more painful earaches.”

“The anesthesia bothers me,” he admitted.

“You must trust the doctors here. Give us a chance to help him.”

Shep was used to being in control. His history had taught him not to let anyone else run his life…let alone his son’s. “How soon do you want to do this?”

“How about next week?”

“That soon?”

“You have a housekeeper, right?”

Did she remember this kind of information about all of her patients? “Yes, Eva. She’ll be able to take care of Joey and Roy if I’m not home.”

Obviously thinking that distracting him for a minute might be a good thing, Raina said, “Roy’s and Joey’s adoptions are final now, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are.”

“And Manuel’s?”

“I’ll be his dad in a few months, if all goes well.”

“I admire what you’re doing, Mr. McGraw.”

“Shep,” he reminded her again, suspecting she used his surname to distance herself. Why would she need to distance herself? Could she be as interested in him as he was in her? It had been a long time since he’d wanted to pursue a woman….

“Shep,” she repeated, her cheeks coloring a little. “Giving these boys a home is so important. And you obviously care about them a great deal.”

“I wouldn’t have decided to adopt them if I didn’t. The foster-care system—” He shook his head. “It’s not like it once was, but it’s hard for children to feel loved when they don’t know where they’ll be sleeping the next night.”

After being abandoned by his mother, a series of foster homes, as well as a chief of police, had convinced Shep he wasn’t worthy of anyone’s love…until a kind rancher named Matt Forester had proven differently. Matt had been Shep’s role model and he was determined to give Roy, Joey and Manuel the same leg up in life that Matt had given him and his friend Cruz.

Raina was looking at him thoughtfully, as if there were more to him than she’d ever realized. Her intense gaze made his interest in her reach a new level, and he had to tamp down a sudden urge to touch her face.

He felt warm and uncomfortable, and now just wanted to get the prescription for Manuel and leave.

The doctor cut through the awkwardness between them by suddenly pulling a pamphlet from a stack on the counter and a pad from her pocket. She wrote out the prescription, then handed the papers to him. “Go home and think about the procedure. Look at the pamphlet I’ve given you. I’ll be in my office tomorrow. Call me if you have any questions.”

Someone knocked on the door.

Raina went to it and opened it, then returned with a few papers. “You need to sign these before you leave.”

As he signed the forms, he tried to make conversation—anything to distract himself from her quiet beauty. “Did you come in just for Manuel, or have you been here all day?”

She gave a shrug. “This has been an exceptionally long day. I had office hours this morning, surgeries this afternoon and a complication that kept me here.” At his look, she was quick to assure him, “Not for anyone who had tubes inserted in their ears.”

Shep smiled the first smile that had come naturally since he’d entered the emergency room. “You knew I was going to ask.”

“You’re the type who would.”

“Type?”

“You care, Mr. McGraw. You ask questions and you want answers. That’s a good type to be when you’re a parent.” There was admiration in her voice.

“You’re going to have to practice using my given name.”

Another blush stained her cheeks. “Maybe I will. I’ll walk you out.”

As they strode side-by-side to the reception area once more, Manuel stilled on Shep’s shoulder. He could tell the little boy was almost falling asleep. His crying had exhausted him.

Raina must have seen that, because as they stopped at the entrance to the hallway leading to the pharmacy, she peered around Shep’s shoulder at Manuel’s face, and then gently patted him on the back. “I imagine he’ll get more sleep tonight than you will.”

“You probably imagine right.”

Standing there like that, staring down into her eyes, Shep felt totally unsettled. His gut tightened, his collar felt tight and he was overcome by a desire to kiss her.

He was absolutely crazy.

A woman like Raina Greystone Gibson wouldn’t give a man like him a second look. Her husband had been a hero.

And Shep?

He was no hero…and because of his past, he never would be.

The following Wednesday, Raina hurried to the day-surgery waiting room. Manuel had been her last surgery of the day, and she was eager to bring his father good news. However, when she reached the doorway to the waiting room she stopped cold as her gaze went immediately to an obviously nervous Shep McGraw.

To her dismay, she felt flustered, knowing she was going to have to talk to him again. That was ridiculous! She didn’t fluster easily. But something about this tall, lean cowboy got to her, and she couldn’t figure out why. Since Clark had died, no man had made her feel much of anything. But then, the way Clark had died probably had something to do with that.

Closing her mind to memories she didn’t revisit often, she watched Shep McGraw for a few seconds. He sat alone, away from the others in the waiting room, staring at the cable-channel news on the TV. But she could tell he wasn’t really absorbing what he was watching. He’d checked his watch twice since she’d stood in the doorway.

Why did he get to her? Because he was such a concerned dad? Shep had had such a difficult time stepping away from Manuel to let the baby be taken to surgery. Still, she’d seen concerned fathers before. Maybe he got to her because he was a single dad doing the best he could with the boys he was adopting?

That had to be it. After all, she knew Manuel’s story because Shep had given her the baby’s history the first time she’d treated him. Manuel had gone into foster care malnourished and sickly when he was almost seventeen months old. A month after that, Shep had received a call from a contact working in the system who’d told him about the boy, asked if he was interested in adopting a third child. Shep had gone to see Manuel and made the decision on the spot. Thank goodness the toddler’s mother had finally cared enough to sign away her parental rights. Manuel’s father was nowhere to be found.

Raina suspected some particular motivation drove Shep to save children from the system. She was becoming more and more curious as to what that motivation could be. Not for the first time, Raina reminded herself her interest couldn’t have anything to do with Shep’s six-foot height, dark brown hair, the very blue eyes that reminded her of a Texas sky on a clear summer day. He could probably crook his finger at a multitude of women and they’d come running. But he wasn’t crooking his finger, and she wondered why.

She’d heard he was well off. He’d bought a huge ranch on the outskirts of Sagebrush, invested in a barnful of horses, remodeled the house and refurbished the barn. He’d also purchased a business—a lumberyard. He might look like a cowboy on the outside, but inside she got the feeling he was a shrewd businessman. He’d supposedly made a bundle selling commercial real estate in California before moving to Sagebrush. Yet he didn’t flaunt his wealth. In fact, the locals said he spent a good bit of time at the lumberyard as well as working his ranch.

He glanced at the doorway. Spotting her, he was on his feet in an instant.

She stepped a few paces to the side of the doorway for a little privacy, faced him and smiled. “Manuel came through the procedure with flying colors. He’s in recovery. If you’d like to come sit by his bed while he wakes up, that’s fine. After he’s aware that you’re there, we’ll wait another half hour or so until the anesthesia wears off. Then you can take him home.”

“Just a half hour? Are you sure he’ll be okay? And you said something about instruction sheets and eardrops.”

Impulsively, she reached out and clasped his arm. “Shep, he’ll be fine. We won’t let you leave without the instruction sheets.”

As her fingers made contact with his tanned skin, sensations registered from her fingertips to her brain—his heat, the strength of the muscle in his forearm, the tingling in her belly that seemed to come from nowhere. His eyes met hers, and for a moment they were both aware of the contact. She quickly released his arm.

He was wearing a Stetson, and he took it off now and ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it. “Will you take me to him?”

“Sure.”

They walked side by side down the hall. Shep was six inches taller than she was—a couple of inches taller than Clark. But where Clark had been husky, Shep was lean. Clark had worked out with weights to keep his body in prime condition for his job. But she had the feeling Shep McGraw’s muscles came from his work on the ranch and at his lumberyard.

She shook her head to clear it from such insane thoughts. “Will your housekeeper be available this evening?”

Shep arched a brow at Raina.

“I just wondered if she’ll be helping to care for Manuel tonight.”

“More than likely she’ll keep Roy and Joey busy so that I can take care of Manuel. Eva often jokes that I moved from laid-back California to Wild West Texas never expecting life to be as unpredictable as it has been. But I don’t regret one day of it and I don’t think she does, either. I’ll show her anything you show me, in case she needs to know.”

“Is she…older?” Raina asked, telling herself she needed the information for purely professional reasons.

“Don’t let her hear you say she’s older,” he joked, with a wry smile. It was a crooked smile that made Raina’s pulse beat just a little faster. “She’s in her fifties,” he went on, “but won’t say exactly where in her fifties.”

Raina chuckled. “She sounds like a woman after my own heart. We should never have to divulge our age.”

“Let me guess,” Shep said. “You’re thirty-seven.”

“How did you—?”

“Gotcha,” he teased. “I have a friend who’s a doc in Santa Fe. I know how long med school took him. And you started practicing here after your residency, right?”

“A year and a half ago,” she confirmed with a nod.

“That’s about when Joey and Roy came to live with me.”

“And Manuel joined you six months ago.”

“That’s right. It’s been a roller-coaster ride.”

She laughed. “You’re a brave man, Shep McGraw, taking in three boys and having the confidence to raise them.”

“Confidence or insanity,” he muttered.

She laughed again.

They reached a door with big black letters—Authorized Admittance Only. Raina opened the door and let Shep inside. He spotted Manuel right away and made a beeline for him, Raina hurrying to catch up. She glanced at the monitors, then asked the nurse at Manuel’s side, “How’s he doing?”

“He’s doing great.”

Shep caught a stray stool with the toe of his boot and dragged it to Manuel’s bedside. He sank down on it and took the little boy’s hand. “How are you doing, kiddo? There’s nothing to worry about now. I’m here and we’re going home soon.”

“Home?” Manuel repeated, his eyes still a little unfocused.

“Yep, home. Joey and Roy and Eva are waiting for us.”

Raina went to a side counter, picking up a sheaf of papers. She brought them over to Shep, then went over the instructions for giving Manuel the eardrops, as well as changing the cotton in his ears. “Everything’s explained here. If he runs a fever or if anything seems out of the ordinary, call me immediately. My service can page me.”

Shep’s attention shifted from her to his son in the bed. His gaze ran over Manuel—from the little gown he was wearing to the cotton in his ears.

Shep was quiet for a moment, then he swiveled around on the stool to face her. “Are you done here for the day?”

“Yes, I’m off to run some errands. But as I said, my service can always contact me.”

“How would you like to do something a little more exciting than running errands?”

“And what would that be?” She was really curious.

“How would you like to come to the Red Creek Ranch and get a taste of just how wild the West can be?”

Chapter Two

Raina was stunned by Shep’s invitation.

“Why do you want me to come to the ranch?”

For a moment, he looked as if he was going to clam up, pull down the brim of his Stetson and walk away. But then he gave a small shrug, stood, lodged his hands in his back pockets and studied her. “You’re a no-nonsense kind of woman, aren’t you?”

“Does that require an answer?”

“No,” he drawled, with a lazy Texas slowness that made her stomach jump. Then he became more serious. “After what you’ve been through, I imagine you don’t have time for crap. Life’s short, and you know it.”

No one had ever approached the subject of her widowhood quite like this before. She was even more intrigued by this man who had been getting under her skin a little every time he had an office visit with one of his kids. “That’s one way of putting it,” she admitted wryly.

Sliding his hands out of his pockets, he dropped them to his sides. “The truth is…” He hesitated and then said, “I like you and I trust you. Manuel had an operation and anesthesia. The hospital is sending him home just an hour afterward. That doesn’t sit comfortably with me. On top of that, I need to do some things, like the drops and all, and I don’t want to make a mistake. I’ll be glad to pay for your time. I’m not asking you to do this for free.”

He liked her. She decided not to focus on that. “So you’d consider this a house call?” If she looked at this in professional terms—

“Yeah, sort of. Maybe a little longer than a house call. After all, it’s going to be suppertime soon. You could stay and eat with us.”

There was nothing obvious in the way Shep was looking at her, and yet…she was very aware he was a well-built man. From those silver sparks in his blue eyes, she had the feeling he appreciated who she was, white lab coat and all. This was the oddest situation she’d ever found herself in. Over the past nine years, she hadn’t taken a second look at a man, and had always put up a shield or run quickly if one looked interested. Why wasn’t she running now?

Because this was mainly about Manuel, she told herself.

“I don’t usually make house calls.”

“Is it on your list of things you never wanted to do, or on your list of things you just never have done?”

In spite of herself, she had to laugh. Shep’s sense of humor was one of his charms. Raina thought about the Victorian where she lived. It would be empty tonight. She’d missed Gina Rigoletti the day she’d moved out to live with her fiancé at his estate. Gina’s sister, Angie, had moved in with her last week. But as a pediatric nurse, she was working the night shift. And her friend Lily was away in Oklahoma with her recently deceased husband’s family. Her husband had been killed in Afghanistan while serving his country.

Raina suddenly realized that at one time she’d craved solitude, but that wasn’t the case now. After Clark died, her grief had gotten held up by everything surrounding September eleventh—the immensity of everyone’s loss, the days of horrible nightmares, the government settlement. She’d watched way too much TV, unable to tear herself away from it, hoping to learn more…to see Clark’s face somewhere. Grief had finally overtaken her the day she’d gone to Ground Zero, seen all the pictures posted and been overwhelmed with the realization that the man she loved was never coming home. Now, nine years later, she felt as if she’d finally found herself again. Returning to Sagebrush, being near her family, had helped her do that.

So here she was, with this rugged single dad asking her to his ranch. “Basically, you want my help with Manuel?” she asked Shep directly.

“Yes. I’ll pay you outright. Insurance won’t be involved.”

“You could hire a nurse, though I really don’t think you need one.”

“First of all, I don’t want a nurse. I want you.” The way he said it seemed to disconcert him a little. The muscle in his jaw jumped. But he went on anyway. “And secondly, I have two other boys to think about. They’re going to be worried about Manuel. I want to make sure they don’t have anything to be afraid of by the time they go to bed tonight.”

Making a sudden decision—from sheer instinct—Raina said, “No need to pay me. Let me tell my housemate where I’ll be. She’s working upstairs. Then I’ll come home with you for a little while, just to see how things are going.”

After an automatic last check of Manuel’s monitors, a look into his adorable dark brown eyes, Raina left the recovery room, wondering what in the heck she was doing.

As Raina’s hybrid followed Shep’s shiny new blue crew-cab truck down the gravel lane, she thought about how absolutely different she was from the rancher. The types of vehicles they drove were only the tip of the iceberg. So why was she following him to his ranch as if…

As if she were attracted to the man?

She was here for Manuel’s sake. That was the beginning and the end of it. Though she was curious how a single rancher managed to handle two rambunctious boys and a baby. Wasn’t it part of her duty as a doctor to find out?

The beautifully maintained split-rail fencing lined the lane. Pecan trees and live oaks kept the road in shade. To the left she spotted horses, at least ten or twelve, and a new-looking lean-to that could shelter them from the weather. When she drove a little farther, she caught sight of a huge red barn with Red Creek Ranch painted in shiny black letters above the hayloft doors. On the right stood a spacious two-and-a-half-story ranch house that looked as if it had been recently refurbished with tan siding and dark brown shutters. The wide, white wraparound porch appeared to be an addition to the original structure. A swing hung from its ceiling. She caught sight of curtains fluttering at the windows and was surprised to find herself thinking the house looked like a home.

To the left of the house, set back, a three-bay garage stood waiting. Shep headed for the parking area in front and she followed, her tires crunching on the stones as she parked beside him. Then she went to the back of his truck to help him with Manuel. The little boy was awake, but not altogether himself.

“He’s usually yelling and screaming to be let out of his car seat by now.”

“Give him some time to get back to normal.”

As Shep reached for Manuel, the two-year-old began to cry. “What did I do?” Shep asked worriedly.

“Are you grumpy after you have a tooth drilled?”

“Sometimes,” Shep answered warily.

“Well, think about how Manuel must feel.”

To Shep’s surprise, when he held Manuel in the crook of his arm and closed the back door of the truck, the little boy reached toward Raina.

“Do you think she can do a better job of making you feel better?” Shep asked, half serious, half joking.

Manuel stared at his dad for a few seconds, then reached for Raina again.

Shep shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“This has nothing to do with your ability to take care of him,” Raina assured him as she cuddled Manuel close and let the baby lay his head against her hair.

“There’s a basic difference between men and women,” Shep decided. “That’s what this is all about.”

“And that difference is?” Raina asked, not sure she wanted to know.

“Women are softer. Men are harder. It’s a matter of comfort.”

Raina couldn’t help but hide a smile as she followed Shep up the porch steps to the front door and into the house.

A ceiling fan hummed in the large living room and tempered the noise coming from beyond. Raina caught a glimpse of a colorful sofa, its covering stamped with rodeo cowboys and horses. Black wrought-iron lamps and comfortable-looking side chairs complemented the casual decor. Sand art on the wall appeared to be hand-crafted, as did the mandala over the sofa and the blue pottery painted with gray wolves high on the bookcase. The big flat-screen TV was a focal point in the room.

Manuel tucked his face into her neck and she snuggled him closer. She liked the feel of a baby in her arms. Once she’d hoped a child would be a possibility. But so many possibilities had died on September eleventh, along with her husband.

At first, she’d thought about him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Memories still popped up now and then without her summoning them. But time was taking its toll, and life went on, whether she grieved and remembered or not. Life had swept her along with it, and she’d stopped resisting its force, though a deep ache was always there.

As they neared the kitchen, loud boys’ chatter turned into more of a shouting match. Six-year-old Roy and eight-year-old Joey were coloring at a large rectangular pedestal table. But Joey was now drawing on Roy’s picture, and in retaliation Roy was drawing on Joey’s.

They were pointing fingers and making accusations while a woman in her fifties, with white-blond spiked hair and long dangling earrings stirred a pot on the stove and firmly called their names. “Roy. Joey. Stop squabbling. You don’t want your dad to come in and hear you.”

“Dad’s too busy to hear us,” Joey said defiantly, his dark brown eyes snapping in his mocha-skinned face.

Roy nudged his brother’s shoulder. “Dad don’t want us to fight.”

“We’re not fighting,” Joey declared, making another mark on Roy’s paper. “We’re just drawing.”

“Drawing very loudly,” Shep admonished them as he stepped through the doorway into the kitchen. “Eva, shouldn’t they be helping you get supper ready?”

“We did help her,” they both chimed in unison, running to him for a hug.

“Oh, I just bet you did.”

Suddenly Joey looked around Shep and saw Raina. “What are you doing here? Did she come to do something to Manuel or to me or Roy?”

Raina couldn’t imagine what they thought she’d do. She’d examined Joey when he had a sinus infection, but that had been about the extent of it.

“Why is she carrying Manuel?” Joey wanted to know.

Raina suddenly wondered if any parent could answer all of the questions a child might ask in one day.

“Dr. Gibson came home with me to make sure Manuel feels okay,” Shep responded, and quickly introduced her to his housekeeper, who had kind, hazel eyes.

“The doctor came home with you so you can spend time with us,” Roy decided, looking happy at that idea.

From their exchange Raina guessed Manuel’s earaches had shifted most of Shep’s attention to him, and the older boys didn’t like it.

“Supper in fifteen minutes,” Eva called. “Boys, you’d better wash up.”

Their heads swung to Shep almost in unison, and he nodded. “Do what Eva said.”

But before they ran off to the bathroom, Roy studied Raina again. “Are you staying for supper? We’re having chili. Eva doesn’t make it so hot, ’cause I don’t like it that way.”

Raina laughed. “I don’t know if I’m staying.”

“We’d like you to,” Shep said quietly.

Eva added, her eyes twinkling, “I made plenty.”

She really hadn’t intended to stay and share a meal. Sharing a meal formed a…bond. But with little Manuel clinging to her, Roy looking at her hopefully, Joey studying her a little suspiciously and Shep standing only a few feet from her, giving off signals that he wanted her to stay, she agreed. “All right. Thanks for the invitation. My mom makes chili, too, and I don’t like it too hot, either.”

At that, Roy grinned and ran off with his brother to wash up.

Manuel cuddled against her, looking up at her with big brown eyes. “How do you feel, little one?” she asked gently.

He reached for her chin, and when his fingers made contact he said, “Rocky, rocky.”

Raina looked to Shep for an explanation. He was watching Manuel’s fingers on her skin. He was looking at her lips. She felt hot and cold, and much too interested in what Shep was thinking right now.

Eva explained, “When Manuel first came here, all he wanted Shep to do was to rock him in the big rocking chair in the living room.”

Raina bought her attention back to Manuel’s words. “I suppose he’s associated rocking with comfort. I can do that.”

“I can hold dinner longer, but the boys are going to get their hands dirty again,” Eva warned.

“There’s a solution,” Shep assured her. “I’ll bring the rocker to the table.”

“She still won’t be able to eat if she’s rocking Manuel.”

Since Raina would rather talk with than be talked about, she assured them, “I can rock and eat at the same time. It might get a little messy, but maybe I can get Manuel to drink.”

Eva nudged Shep’s shoulder. “I can see why you brought her along. She’s on top of things.”

“I’ll say she is,” Shep said, looking at her almost as if he didn’t want to be looking at her. The same way she knew she shouldn’t be looking at him?

Dinner was a rowdy meal, as the boys dipped corn bread into their chili and talked with their mouths full. Roy told Raina about his bus ride that morning and afternoon. Joey talked, mostly about Roy—but not about himself.

After supper, the boys helped Eva clean off the table and Raina was impressed. “I could never get my brother to do that unless I bribed him.”

“Your brother’s the police officer, right?” Shep asked.

“Don’t tell him I told you about the bribing. I’ll never live it down.”

“Rumor has it he’s a good detective.”

She knew small towns listened to the rumor mill more than cable news channels.

Thoughts of Sagebrush’s gossip line faded as Manuel stirred. She brought her head down to his and whispered close to his ear, “You’re such a good little boy.”

He looked up at her as if he’d heard every word, and gave her a smile.

Shep was sitting next to her in a high-backed wooden chair that looked like an antique. He leaned closer to her. “Whispering words of wisdom in his ear?”

With Shep’s face so close to hers, she became breathless when she gazed at his lips. “Just some positive reinforcement. You can do that for him anytime.”

“I’ll remember that,” Shep returned in a low, husky voice, then leaned away.

To distract herself from the magnetic pull Shep exuded, she complimented Eva on her chili, as well as on the corn bread, the coleslaw and the ginger cookies she’d baked for dessert.

Suddenly Shep stood. “Okay, boys. How about if you go get ready for bed? Morning comes a lot quicker when you have to go to school.”

Roy’s “Aw, do we have to?” and Joey’s quick look at Raina had Shep arching a brow. “I’m going to get Manuel changed into pj’s, too. I want you two finished by the time I’m done.”

Both boys mumbled, “Yes, sir,” slid last peeks at Raina, then scrambled off.

After they were gone, Eva said to Raina, “They find toys to play with and forget to put their pajamas on. I’ll go up and make sure they don’t get too sidetracked.”

“Thanks,” Shep called to her, and Raina could see he meant it.

“I guess it’s time to put those eardrops in,” Shep said with a frown. “Is there a right way and a wrong way?” he asked Raina.

“If we coax him to lay on his side, that will make it easier.”

Shep motioned through the doorway to the living room. “Let’s go to the playroom. I set up a changing table in there.”

Raina wasn’t used to being around a man who put kids first. Gina’s fiancé, Logan, did. He’d had to. But Raina didn’t know Logan all that well yet.

Shep took Manuel from her, his large hands grazing her midriff as he securely took hold of the little boy. She was surprised by her body’s startled awareness of the man’s touch. Her cheeks flushed and she felt oddly off-balance.

Shep looked down at her, their gazes locking for a few intense moments. Neither of them said anything as Shep carried Manuel, and Raina followed him to the playroom.

They passed what looked like a guest bedroom, then entered a bright, sunny room with yellow walls. There were two long, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the backyard and smaller ones in a row on the other side.

“Was this once a porch?” she asked.

“Yes, it was. I closed it in, put a smaller porch on this entrance and fenced in the yard.”

“Did you do it yourself?” If he did, she was curious why. He could have hired an entire crew! Now she really was curious about him.

“A contractor did most of the work on the ranch for me. I wanted it restored rather than razed and rebuilt. But I did this. I learned to work with my hands early on. I like building things. I guess that’s why I bought the lumberyard, so I could help other people do it.”

He took Manuel over to a dark wood chest with a changing table on top. The room had been furnished with kids in mind—a couple of royal blue beanbag chairs, a game table with stools, cupboards and shelves that held toys—everything from remote-controlled vehicles to drawing sets. This room created a pang of longing in Raina, a pang she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Clark had wanted children badly. So had she.

“What are you thinking about?” Shep asked her.

With that question, Raina knew he could be a perceptive man. But she didn’t share her private thoughts very easily. “I was just thinking about parents and kids. When did you know you wanted to adopt?”

As he undressed Manuel, Shep seemed to consider her question very carefully. “I knew about foster care firsthand. I grew up in the system. It wasn’t pretty. Once I got a start in life and learned how to make money, I had a goal—to find a place I could turn into a real home for kids, kids who needed a family as much as they needed a roof over their heads.”

Shep set Manuel’s shirt aside, but it began to slip from the table. Raina caught it. Closer to Shep now, she could almost feel the powerful vibrations emanating from his tall, hard body. She sensed he was all muscle, all cowboy, silent much of the time, only revealing himself when he chose or had to.

“Why Sagebrush?” she asked.

“Why not Sagebrush?” he responded with a quick grin that she realized he used to disarm anyone who maybe got too close. That grin had the power to make butterflies jump in her stomach. She hadn’t felt that sensation for so long she almost didn’t recognize it. But when she felt a burning heat crawling up her neck again, she knew exactly what it was. Attraction. She’d been fighting it ever since she’d met Shep McGraw.

Concentrating on their conversation, she took a quick breath. “This isn’t an area of Texas most people think about when they want to move somewhere. I just wondered how you landed here.”

Shep helped Manuel into a pajama shirt covered with horseshoes. The toddler yawned widely as Shep concentrated on the tiny buttons, his fingers fumbling with them.

“My father came from Sagebrush. He died when I was four. Then my mother and I moved to California. So you might say I just returned to my roots.”

Raina knew she should back away from Shep and his story, which was bound to deepen her awareness and sympathy. She didn’t want to get involved with anyone. She’d lost her husband in the most awful of ways, and the aftermath had been heart-wrenching. Moving on had been an almost insurmountable task. But she had gone on. She was past tragedy. And she wanted to keep it that way.

Still, she was so intrigued by a cowboy who could run a ranch and a lumberyard, yet change a diaper, too. Trying to be as tactful as she could, she asked, “And you lost your mom, too?”

“Yeah, I did.”

When Shep didn’t say more, Raina moved a step closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

Stilling, he peered down at her. He was so much taller than she was. The blue of his eyes darkened until she felt a tremble up her spine.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, his voice husky and low. “Everything that happened to me back then made me who I am now.”

Who was Shep McGraw, beyond a rancher and a dad? Did she even want to find out? Wasn’t that why she had accepted his invitation tonight?

The moment was broken when Manuel began kicking his legs and reached his arms out to Shep. “Up, Daddy, up.”

Shep broke eye contact and concentrated on the little boy. “Not yet. Let’s get you changed so we can put your eardrops in.”

“Dwops?” Manuel repeated.

“I left them on the kitchen counter,” Shep told Raina. “Would you mind getting them?”

No, she didn’t mind. She felt as if she needed a breather from him and the obvious love he felt for his sons.

A few minutes later Raina distracted Manuel as Shep squeezed in the drops. Both of them seemed to be going out of their way not to get too close, not to let their fingers touch, not to let their eyes meet.

Footsteps suddenly thundered down the stairs. “Dad! Dad!” Roy and Joey called as they ran through the living room towards the playroom.

“I’m right here,” he said with a laugh, “not out in the barn.”

His gentle rebuke didn’t seem to faze the boys. “We want to say good night to Dr. Gibson. Eva said we could.”

Raina drank in the sight of the two little boys, her heart lurching again. What was wrong with her tonight? Joey was dressed in pj’s decorated with racecars. Roy’s were stamped with balls and bats. “I’m glad you came down.”

“We’re not going to bed yet,” Joey explained. “We can read in our room before we go to sleep. Dad says that quiets us down.”

Raina couldn’t help but smile. “Sometimes I read to quiet me down before I go to sleep.”

“We wanted to ask you somethin’,” Roy volunteered.

Raina glanced at Shep but he just shrugged. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Can you come back and see the horses sometime?”

She didn’t know how to respond. What did Shep want? What did she want? Did that even matter, when these two precious children were staring up at her with their big, dark eyes? “I suppose I can.”

“Promise?” Roy asked, possibly sensing her hesitance.

Joey added, “If you promise, you have to do it. Dad says no one will be your friend if you can’t keep a promise.”

Again her gaze sought Shep’s. His expression was friendly but neutral. Apparently, this was her decision. She liked the idea of him teaching his sons about promises being kept.

“I promise,” she said solemnly.

“If you come Saturday, we can go for a ride after we do chores,” Joey informed her, as if warming to that idea.

“You can help with chores!” Roy added enthusiastically.

At that, Raina laughed out loud. “Well, maybe if I’d help you with chores, I’d develop some muscles. My brother’s always telling me I should work out.”

“You have a brother?” Roy asked, wide-eyed.

“Sure do.” She thought about her schedule Saturday. “I’ll tell you what. I have to go to the hospital Saturday morning, but then I’ll stop by here afterward.” She looked at Shep. “Is that all right?”

“That’s fine,” he replied, still giving nothing away.

Eva came into the room then, and asked Shep, “Is Manuel ready?”

The two-year-old had cuddled against Shep’s shoulder. Now Eva took him and said, “Come on, boys. Let’s head on up.” As they followed their nanny, they turned around and stared at their dad.

He assured them, “I’ll be up in a few minutes. Go on. Pick out a book you want me to read to you.” He said to Eva, “I’ll bring along some of that oat cereal for Manuel.”

After Roy waved at Raina, both boys took off after Eva.

Feeling awkward, Raina checked her watch. “I’d better be going.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

Raina gathered her purse from the counter, feeling Shep’s gaze on her as she went to the door and he followed. She wondered what he was thinking. She knew what she was thinking.

The end-of-August evening was warm. As they stepped outside, the breeze tossed the ends of her hair. They walked to her car in silence.

The motion-detector light on the side of the house glowed as they neared her car. She knew she was going to have to ask Shep the question in her mind. Distracting herself for the moment, she pressed the remote and her doors unlocked.

Shep opened the driver’s-side door for her.

Rather than climbing in, she faced him, close enough to him to see the beard shadow on his face. “Do you want me to come out on Saturday?”

“You have to. You promised.”

“I know. I wasn’t sure what to say. When Roy looked at me with those big eyes, I didn’t know how to refuse.”

Shep chuckled. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” She needed to know if he wanted her here or not.

“I like you, Dr. Gibson. It won’t be a hardship to take you on a trail ride.”

“Raina,” she said softly. “If we’re going on a trail ride, first names seem more…comfortable.”

“Comfortable,” he agreed, looking down at her with interest she hadn’t noticed in a man’s eyes for years. He shoved his hands into his pockets, though he didn’t step away. “Thanks for coming over tonight.”

“I really enjoyed myself.”

Awkwardness settled between them, the kind of awkwardness that happened after a first date, she thought. Only, they hadn’t been on a date. Still, she felt pulled toward Shep. Yet something else urged her to move away—probably memories, heartache and regrets over a love lost.

After she slid into the driver’s seat, Shep closed the door. Then he laid his hand on the open window and bent down, his face close to hers. “Remember, a promise given is a promise that should be kept.”

She had the feeling his boys had had promises made to them that weren’t kept. He was protective of that and protective of them. “I’ll remember,” she murmured, unable to take her gaze from his face.

Shep straightened and stepped away from the car.

With a trembling hand, she pressed her smart key to start the engine. As she backed out of the parking space and drove away, his words echoed in her mind.

A promise given is a promise that should be kept.

Did Shep McGraw keep his promises?

Chapter Three

“You are wrong!” Roy yelled. “Wrong, wrong, wrong.”

“I am not,” Joey yelled back.

“Boys,” came a stern voice.

Raina had parked beside Shep’s ranchhouse and, hearing voices at the barn, headed to it. She walked toward the corral, guessing the boys were outside the stall doors. At the fence, she stopped.

Shep had crouched down in front of Roy. His voice wasn’t stern now, as he said, “It’s still early. Not even lunchtime.”

“But she said she’d be here this morning.”

Raina had gotten tied up at the hospital and intended to phone on her way to the ranch, but her cell phone had lost its charge.

“Hey, everybody,” she called, cheerily now, letting them know she was there. “Am I too late for chores?”

“Dr. Gibson!” Roy cheered, brushing away his tears. “You came.” He turned to his brother. “I told you so. I told you she’d keep her promise.”

Shep slowly rose from his crouched position. Without any accusation, he said, “The boys were a little worried you’d forgotten.”

Opening the corral gate, she stepped inside the working area for the horses. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got tied up at the hospital.” She lifted her duffel bag. “I brought old clothes and riding boots.”

“You can change at the house or in the tack room,” Shep informed her.

“The tack room is fine.”

“She’s a girl,” Joey said with disgust. “She thinks about clothes and getting them dirty.”

Raina could see Shep was trying hard to suppress a laugh. He knocked his Stetson higher on his head with his forefinger. “Listen, Joey, part of a woman’s job is to think about clothes. You ought to do it once in a while.”

As Joey crinkled his nose, Raina laughed and headed for the tack room. A few minutes later, she returned in her old jeans and short-sleeved blouse, her dad’s navy paisley kerchief tied around her neck. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“We saved mucking out the stalls,” Roy told her.

“I’m thrilled about that,” she responded with a straight face.

He took a good look at her and smiled. “You’re teasin’.”

She ruffled his hair. “Yes, I am. I guess no one really likes mucking out stalls, but it has to be done.”

“You’re really going to do it?” Joey asked.

“I did it before, when I was about your age. My uncle had a ranch and a couple of horses.”

“In Sagebrush?” Shep asked.

“Yep. On the east side of town. When hard times set in and he had to sell it, a developer bought it. There’s a whole bunch of houses there now, where his ranch used to be.”

Her gaze met Shep’s and one of those trembles danced through her body again. It was like a preliminary tremor to an earthquake. She told herself she was being foolish. She was just off balance, being out of her comfort zone, being with Shep and his boys again.

“We’ll get the shovels,” Joey told Raina as he and Roy headed into the barn.

After they were out of earshot, Shep asked her, “Did you have second thoughts?” His blue eyes demanded a straight answer, not a polite excuse.

“I did. But I’d made a promise.”

“Should I ask why you had second thoughts, or leave it alone?”

“You’re direct, aren’t you?”

He shrugged. “I try to be. Life is complicated enough, without beating around the proverbial bush.”

When she hesitated before answering, he settled his hand on her arm. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

She’d worn a short-sleeve blouse because of the early September heat. Shep’s long, calloused fingers were warm and sensual on her skin. When she looked up at him, she felt tongue-tied. It was an odd experience, because she usually wasn’t at a loss for words.

Finally, she admitted, “There are a lot of reasons why I had second thoughts.” The awareness between her and Shep wasn’t one-sided. She knew that now. She could feel his interest, and she wanted to run from it.

He released her arm and held up one finger. “The first reason is me.” He held up a second finger. “The second reason is me.” He held up a third finger. “And the third reason is probably me.”

“No ego there,” she muttered.

He laughed. “It has nothing to do with ego. I just figure— Hell, Raina. I know about your husband. I also know for the past six months you did everything you could not to make eye contact with me.”

“Manuel was my patient.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Well, you didn’t show any interest, either.”

“No, I didn’t. I pretended there wasn’t any, just like you did.”

“I wasn’t pretending,” she protested. “I wasn’t interested. I’m not interested. I loved my husband, and when I lost him—” She stopped. “I can’t ever explain what it was like—waiting and not knowing, waiting and hoping, waiting and waiting and waiting. And finally accepting, and having to deal with grief deeper than I’ve ever known.” She shook her head, struggling to maintain her composure. “I never want to feel anything remotely like it ever again.”

“I can understand that.”

She saw empathy in Shep’s eyes. Real empathy. He’d lost his parents, and she didn’t know who else he might have lost along the way. Maybe he knew, too, that nothing was forever…nothing lasted.

“I came because I made a promise,” she repeated.

A smile crept across Shep’s lips. “Then Roy was right to trust you.”

The way Shep said it, she had the feeling he didn’t trust many people. Because of the way he’d grown up?

“Roy and Joey don’t fight often. For a couple of years, all they had was each other.”

“For a couple of years?”

“When their parents were killed in an accident, they were put into the system. But being biracial, and being brothers, the system had trouble placing them. So they stayed in foster care.”

“Maybe the fact that they’re fighting means they don’t have to depend on each other quite so much, since they have you.”

“I’d like to believe that’s true, but they still hold back with me. Especially Joey. He likes to keep things to himself, and sometimes that causes him trouble.”

“Do you keep things to yourself?”

“Oh, terrific. My boys had to ask a smart lady to come to the ranch for a trail ride.”

This time she laughed. The scent of horses and the sun’s heat beating on old wood rode the corral air. Although Shep didn’t always say a lot, he was easy to talk to. He made her feel…safe. She’d returned to Sagebrush to feel safe, to be close to her mother and brother, to establish roots that had somehow slipped away on that terrible day in 2001. She’d felt safe in the Victorian with Gina, and now Angie. But not safe in this way. Not protected like this. She suspected Shep was a protector, and that gave her an odd feeling. Clark had been a protector, and because of that he’d died.

“You’re thinking sad thoughts.”

How could Shep do that? How could he know? “Not for long. As soon as your boys hand me a shovel, I’ll only be thinking about getting finished and going on that trail ride.”

Shep motioned her inside the barn. “Then let’s get started.”

The barn was old. Raina could tell that there were signs of it being refurbished—fresh mortar between stones on the walls was lighter gray and without cracks. Some of the wooden stall doors looked new, their catches and hinges shiny and untouched by time.

“How old is the barn?” she asked, realizing the boys were nowhere in sight.

“The buildings on the property date back to the 1850s.”

“You bought a piece of history.”

“That’s the way I look at it. That’s why I didn’t raze everything to the ground and start over. I liked building on what was here, making the old stand up to the test of time. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do. It’s nice to know something will last with a little help.” As she took in the stalls and the feed barrels, she asked, “Where are the boys and their shovels?”

Shep shook his head. “I know where they are. Come on.” He led her past the tack room, and when they rounded the corner, she saw Joey and Roy leaning over a pile of hay bales. The hay was stacked wide and high. But the boys were sort of in the middle of it, two bales up, peeking over the edge of one bale.

“Kittens?” she guessed.

Shep nodded, smiling. “You have been around barns. They wanted to bring them up to the house, but I told them the babies are still too little. They haven’t even learned how to climb out of their nest yet. Give them a few more weeks and they’ll probably be sleeping with the boys.”

“You sound resigned.”

He chuckled. “I know kids can get attached to animals. Pets can give them security, so I’m all for it.”

Without thinking twice, Raina climbed up the bale and sat next to Joey. She peered over the edge and saw a mama cat nursing four little ones whose eyes were barely open.

“They know where to go to eat,” Roy told her, as if that was important information.

Joey added, “Dad says we shouldn’t touch them until they climb out. Their mama wouldn’t like it.”

“Your dad’s probably right. The mama cat might move them and then you wouldn’t be able to find them.”

“Until they’re old enough to run around,” Joey said, as if he were challenging her.

“Yep, that’s true. But in here they’re protected from the weather and anything else that might bother them. So it’s a good place.”

Joey seemed to think about that. “Yeah. I like the barn. It’s even neater when the horses are in here making noises.”

“I’ll bet,” Raina responded, holding back a grin.

“Come on, boys. If we don’t get those stalls cleaned out before lunch, you don’t go on a trail ride,” Shep reminded them.

Without grumbling, they crawled down the bales, rushed into the tack room and emerged with three shovels. Roy handed one of them to Raina. “Dad uses a pitchfork, but he won’t let us touch that.”

“It’s locked in the tool closet,” Shep explained. “I’ll go get it and meet you at stall one.”

Chores went quickly, and Raina noticed Shep did most of the work. He wanted the boys involved, to have a good work ethic, but he wouldn’t give them more than they could handle.

By the time they reached the third stall, Roy was slowing down.

Raina said, “Why don’t I give you a hand?” She put her shovel aside and stood behind Roy, helping him scoop and carry to the outside bucket.

He grinned up at her. “That was easier.”

Joey didn’t say a word, but there was no indication he resented his little brother having help when he didn’t.

When they’d finished with the third stall, however, Shep suggested, “Let’s take a break. Go on up to the house and tell Eva we’re ready for lunch. Wash up. We’ll be along.”

A few minutes later, Raina stood beside Shep, watching the boys race out of the barn through the corral gate and across the lane. “They’re hard workers.”

“Yeah. And sometimes I think they’ll do anything for my approval. That’s not always a good thing.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I want them to be themselves. I want them to be who they are with each other when they’re in their room alone. When I’m around, they’re more guarded.”

“They’ve been with you what—a year and a half?”

“Yep. And you’d think they’d be more comfortable with me by now.”

It was easy to see that Shep was the strong, silent type. She wondered how much sharing he did with his boys. How much he told them what he was feeling. But she didn’t know him well enough to say that, so instead she said, “There’s distance between me and my mom, even now. But my brother and I are really close.”

“You don’t tell your mother what you’re thinking?”

“No.”

Shep didn’t ask why, and his look told her he wouldn’t pry if she didn’t want him to. So, instead of keeping her childhood hidden, as she usually did, she brought it out to examine once again. “My father was Cheyenne, and proud of it. He told me and my brother about the old ways of living, of thinking, of believing. My mother didn’t like that. She wanted us to fit in. Sometimes being proud of our heritage didn’t help us fit in. Ryder and I were often made fun of, but we had each other and I didn’t tell her about it. That sort of set the standard for our relationship. I tried to be what she wanted me to be—the perfect daughter. Daddy and I could always talk, but my mom and I couldn’t. He died when I was ten, and nothing was ever the same after that.”

Shep nodded as if he knew all too well exactly what she meant. “Did your mother work before your dad died?”

“At the library. But afterward, that wasn’t nearly enough, so she started driving a school bus, too.”

“Gutsy lady.”

“I think in her heart she always wanted to be a teacher, but never had the money to go to college. She practically runs the library now. She gave up bus driving a few years ago to take the head position.”

“She sounds as interesting as you are.”

Raina wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she fell back on what had affected her life most deeply. “My mom never got over losing my dad. It was like that part of her, the romantic side of her, just stopped existing.”

“Has that happened to you?”

Raina really had not seen the connection before, and now she did. “I think that’s happened to me because of the way Clark died.”

“I suppose that’s so. Your husband was a hero. His memory is bigger than life, so there’s no room to have a romantic dream again.”

“How do you understand that so well?”

“I’ve been around.”

Sometimes Shep’s attitude was too enigmatic, and she found herself wanting to dig down to deeper levels. So she asked a question that had been niggling at her for a long while. “If you wanted a family so badly, why didn’t you get married?”

“Because having a family didn’t depend on me marrying.”

“That’s not an answer,” she protested softly, wanting to step closer to him, and yet afraid of feelings that were starting to tickle her heart. So afraid, she wanted to run.

He seemed to have an inside battle with himself, then finally said, “I don’t trust women easily. I have good reasons to believe they leave when the going gets tough. Or they stay for the wrong reasons.”

“The wrong reasons?”

“Yeah. Things like money. Fancy cars. A house in the best neighborhood in town.”

So he’d gotten burned by a woman who had wanted what he could provide for her? Or had the trust issues started much earlier than that?

“Everyone’s got baggage, Shep. It’s what we do with it that matters.”

When he angled toward her, she wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. She was a bit surprised when he took hold of a lock of her hair and let it flutter through his fingers. “You’re a captivating woman, Raina. Do you know that?”

“No,” she said seriously. “Each day that passes I figure out more about myself.”

“What did you figure out today?” He let his hand drop and she was sorry when he did.

“I figured out that mucking out a stall is as good an exercise as I can get in a gym. And that little boys always have a next question, even when you think you’ve answered them all.”

He chuckled. “Isn’t that the truth?”

He looked as if he wanted to kiss her. To her amazement, she wanted him to do it. But why—so she could feel like a desirable woman once more? So she could really start living again? So she could wipe out some terrible memories and replace them with sparkling new ones?

Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter, because Shep took a step back. “We’d better get up to lunch before there isn’t any. Those boys have big appetites after doing chores.”

Shep had let her down easy. They’d gone back to friendly. His trust issues and her past could be hurdles that might prevent even a meaningful friendship from beginning.

What had gotten into him?

Shep gave his horse a nudge up a small hill, watching his sons in front of him as they did the same. Raina rode between Joey and Roy, talking to them as they bounced along.

Shep rarely discussed his background or his breakup with Belinda. Only with Cruz now and then. Granted, he hadn’t given Raina much, but he’d said more than enough. He wanted to forget Belinda’s gold-digging motivation for getting engaged to him…the indifference to children she’d kept well-hidden. He needed to forget that kid who’d gone through life without an adult to really care about him. He longed to forget landing in jail at the age of fourteen. He’d never tell Raina Greystone Gibson that story.

He’d been so rebellious back then. He’d hated his foster parents and their neglect. Not only of him, but of Cruz, too. Cruz had been younger, more vulnerable, not as experienced as Shep about the ins and outs of the system. Shep had felt he had to look out for him. But in protecting Cruz, he’d broken the law.

No matter their foster parents had left them alone for the weekend. No matter Cruz had taken ill and had a raging fever. No matter Shep hadn’t known what to do except hotwire that old truck and take Cruz to the closest E.R.

The chief of police had thrown him into that dirty jail cell and not cared a whit. If it hadn’t been for Matt Forester rescuing them, Shep wasn’t sure where he or Cruz would be today. Maybe in prison. Maybe on the streets.

Nope. He’d never tell Raina about that chunk of his life. She’d never understand the desperation that had driven him to rebel against authority figures for his sake as well as Cruz’s.

He’d sensed that same defiant spirit in Joey and suspected it had developed while he was in foster care.

The brothers had had loving, caring parents until they’d been killed. With no relatives to take care of them, they’d been thrust into the system. Then five, Joey had acted out, and his aggressive behavior had made placement even harder. They’d been through two foster couples before Shep had decided to take them.

He believed there were three secrets to turning kids around. Matt Forester had taught them to Shep and Cruz. You gave children safety. You gave them love. And you gave them a reason to trust you. If Shep could accomplish that, Joey, Roy and Manuel would be on their way to being confident and finding a future that fit them.

Breaking Shep’s consideration of his past and present, Joey turned around and called, “Can we show Dr. Gibson Red Creek?”

“Do you remember how to get there?”

“Yep. We go right at the bottom of this hill.”

“Lead the way.”

Joey grinned and pushed his fist up into the air, as if he’d just been given a gift. The gift of confidence, Shep hoped, as he urged his horse to catch up to Raina’s.

“They’re good riders for their age,” she remarked as the two boys trotted ahead.

“You’re pretty good yourself.”

“I must have inherited good riding genes from my ancestors who roamed the plains.”

He couldn’t tell if she was being serious or tongue-in-cheek. “You said your heritage meant a lot to your dad. Did it mean a lot to you?”

“That’s not an easy question.”

“Tell me,” he said, surprising himself. Usually when conversations with women got into sticky waters, he swam in the opposite direction. But he wanted to know more about Raina, wanted to uncover everything she kept hidden deep in her soul.

“Is it a long way to the creek?” she asked with a wry smile.

“Long enough that if you haven’t ridden for a while you’re going to be sore tomorrow.”

“I guess I’d better soak in a hot tub tonight.”

“It wouldn’t hurt.” He suddenly had visions of her sinking into a tub full of bubbles. But before she slid into those bubbles—

He had to quit imagining her in something less than a blouse and jeans.

When she canvassed his face, he wondered what she saw. He could hide quite a bit with his Stetson. Every cowboy knew how. But they were riding in the sun, and the shadows from his brim didn’t hide everything. Could she see his interest in her was physically motivated? Since Belinda’s rejection of a future he held dear, all he’d looked for from a woman was physical satisfaction.

He and Raina were so blasted different. The ways were too numerous to count. So why was he here? And why was she here?

Curiosity, pure and simple.

She was still studying him when he said, “You changed the subject.”

“You helped it along.”

“I did. And if you really don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.”

She was silent as they rode through pockets of wild sage, scrub brush and tall grass. As her horse rocked her, she turned the kerchief around her neck, the frayed edges brushing her skin. “This was my dad’s. He wore it whenever he went riding. He liked to tease that it would come in handy if a dust storm came up. His stories about his father serving in World War II, as well as his own experiences in Vietnam, were written down in a diary he kept. My mother gave it to me on my twelfth birthday.”

“Why your twelfth?”

“I was having trouble fitting in at school. I didn’t know how to handle being Cheyenne, and at times growing up, it made me feel like an outsider. Ryder faced the same problem, but a guy can be a loner and that can be attractive by itself. He knew who he was when he hit his teens. He also knew he wanted to be a cop. I just felt…different from everyone else.”

“When did you stop feeling different?”

“I never did. But I learned to like being different. Remembering the myths and fables my father told me helped me see how life fit together, how the past becomes the present, how being Cheyenne is something to be proud of. But it wasn’t always so, and I feel guilty about that.”

“You were a kid.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.