“I’m sorry for not telling everyone that you were nowhere near the Logan property when it caught on fire…”

Kara took a ragged breath, voice quavering as her tear-filled eyes sought his. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Already did, darlin’,” his low voice assured her. “A long time ago.”

She stared at him. Not comprehending the kindness reflected in his eyes.

“I knew you were scared.” His words washed over her in a reassuring wave. “Understood why you didn’t want anyone to know you were with me.”

“I’m so sorry. I hate myself for what you had to go through.”

“No need for that.” His eyes grew thoughtful as if mentally traveling back in time.

She clenched her fists in an effort to warm ice-cold fingers. To stop their trembling.

“It’s all in the past.” Gentle eyes echoed his smile. “Let’s leave it there.”

Wonder filled her. “Thank you. But you never liked this town, even before the fire. Why did you come back?”

He smiled at her. “Guess you might call it unfinished business.”

GLYNNA KAYE

treasures memories of growing up in small Midwestern towns—in Iowa, Missouri, Illinois—and vacations spent in another rural community with the Texan side of the family. She traces her love of storytelling to the many times a houseful of great-aunts and-uncles gathered with her grandma to share hours of what they called “windjammers”—candid, heartwarming, poignant and often humorous tales of their youth and young adulthood.

Glynna now lives in Arizona, and when she isn’t writing she’s gardening and enjoying photography and the great outdoors.

Second Chance Courtship

Glynna Kaye

I run in the path of your commands,

for you have set my heart free.

—Psalms 119:32

To my sister and best friend, Sheryl,

who faithfully reads all my drafts—

and never complains even during

the third or fourth round.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you again to Steeple Hill Love Inspired senior editor, Melissa Endlich, for enthusiastically allowing me to share Canyon Springs with the world.

Thanks also to my agent, Natasha Kern, for her words of encouragement and vote of confidence.

And as always, an extra special thank-you to my “Seeker Sisters” at www.Seekerville.blogspot.com.

I’m still amazed at how God brought us all together.

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

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Cowboys ain’t nothin’ but trouble.

The oft-heard parental warning echoed through Kara Dixon’s head. No surprise, for in the dim light and blowing snow outside a Canyon Springs, Arizona, restaurant, her eyes had fastened on the back of a broad-shouldered, dark-haired specimen of the cowboy variety. The Western hat and shear-ling jacket might be mimicked by wannabes, but the horse trailer hitched behind a big, silver Ford pickup vouched for his authenticity.

A cowboy. Yet another reason she had to get out of this town and back to Chicago. The sooner the better, too. She’d yet to run into a bona fide wrangler on the streets of the Windy City, which suited her just fine.

But how could she not take pity on the poor man? A man who valiantly endeavored to hand-brush fast accumulating snow from his crew cab pickup—while juggling a wailing toddler in one arm and making frequent grabs for a wandering preschooler with the other. Poor guy. Women shouldn’t send their helpless men out into the world without adequate kid training. And back up.

She sighed. She didn’t have time for this tonight. Customers straggling in late with cross-country ski rental returns had delayed the closing of her mother’s general store, Dix’s Woodland Warehouse. Much longer and Mom would start wondering why she hadn’t brought home the promised Friday night dinner from Kit’s Lodge. A quick call would put her mind at ease, but being accountable to Mom again was already getting old. It was bitter cold, too, with wind whipping out of the northwest in buffeting gusts. No, it wasn’t a good night to stop and offer a helping hand.

Nevertheless, she returned to the SUV she’d borrowed from her mom and retrieved a heavy-duty snowbrush. Then, securing her jacket’s insulated hood, she approached the struggling male and raised her voice over that of the squalling child.

“Could you use some help?”

He swung toward her, his face in shadow.

She waved the snowbrush.

“Oh, man, thanks.” His own raised voice held a note of grateful surprise as he endeavored to calm the unhappy little girl now flinging herself back and forth in his arms. “Didn’t know it snowed so much while we were inside.”

“That’s mid-January in mountain country for you.”

Before Kara could register what he was intending to do, the man stepped forward and thrust the flailing toddler at her. What? She didn’t want to hold the kid. All she’d intended to do was help clean off the guy’s truck. But the bundled-up, squalling tyke was stretching out arms to her. Even though she was irritated with “Daddy,” Kara reluctantly relinquished the snowbrush and gathered the tiny screamer into her arms. Lovely.

The man snagged the sleeve of the older child and gently pushed her toward Kara as well, then turned to the truck and set to work. Through the passenger-side front window, she glimpsed a lop-eared, mixed-breed mutt taking in the outside activity with interest. Almost as if laughing at her.

Kara awkwardly jiggled the bawling little one and fished in her pockets—in vain—for a tissue to wipe the miniature nose. She winced as slobber-wet fingers brushed her face. Where was the kid’s mitten? Kara glanced at the snow-covered ground but saw no sign of it, then caught the tiny, sticky hand in her own.

Hurry it up, Cowboy.

As she warmed the little hand, she caught the older child staring at her. Even in the dim light it was clear she didn’t think this stranger was handling her sibling with any degree of expertise. Kara bestowed a weak smile. It was hard to tell through the dim light and pelting snow, but the face peeping out from under a hood looked familiar.

Kara made shushing sounds at the youngster in her arms, then raised her voice over the howls. “What’s your name?”

“Mary.”

“Mary what?”

“Mary had a little lamb.” The preschooler giggled and danced away.

Kara forced another smile. A comedian. She turned her attention again to the toddler who, for whatever mysterious reason, had abruptly quieted. Thank goodness. She’d pulled her tiny hand free, rubbed her nose and was now studiously exploring Kara’s facial features with the tip of a moist finger. The girl giggled. Sniffled. Then hiccupped.

Kara turned her face aside to see what had happened to Cowboy. She shifted the kid and squinted through the steadily falling snow. Oh, there he was. On the far side of the pickup.

“Uh, you about done over there?”

“Almost. Hang on.” He said something else but the wind snatched away the words.

Cowboy made a few more swipes with the brush, then limped around the front of the truck to open the passenger-side back door. He motioned to the older girl. “Hop in, Mary.”

With a boost from him, the child obeyed. Then, tucking the snowbrush under his arm, he leaned inside the truck to harness her in a car seat.

“What’s your phone number, sweetheart?” he called over his shoulder to Kara. “9-1-1-Kid-Help?”

He chuckled.

Her heart dipped. Then stilled.

She knew that laugh.

She shook her head, in part to loosen the toddler’s fingers now snaking into the hair under her hood, but mainly to dash away the foolish imagining. Being back in Canyon Springs made her jumpy. Paranoid. And at the present moment, a little sick to her stomach.

It couldn’t be him. No way. She’d have heard if he was back in town, wouldn’t she? Then again, for the past six weeks she’d been buried alive managing the Warehouse for her mom. Taking on the household tasks and transporting her parent to out-of-town physical therapy appointments. There hadn’t been a single moment to catch her breath, let alone catch up with in-the-know locals.

But maybe that’s why the little girl looked familiar? He’d returned after all—had kids now? Her mind flashed back a dozen years to a tall, lean high school senior who’d moved to town her sophomore year. He’d had her female classmates swooning over a slow, lazy smile that she remembered well. T-shirt. Jeans. Western boots. Attitude.

But although she’d lain awake far too many nights dreaming about him, she’d steered clear. Mostly anyway. After all, he was a cowboy. Just like her no-good dad. That “troublemaking preacher’s kid” the townspeople had labeled him.

Thanks mainly to her…

Please, God, don’t let it be him.

“Ouch!” Cringing, she grabbed her earlobe and pried away tiny fingers. “Not the earring, kid.”

The child pulled back and frowned, studying her a long moment. Big dark eyes. Another hiccup. Then the tiny face crumpled and the wailing began again.

Kara stepped to the open truck door. “Okay, Daddy, time to reclaim your kid.”

“That’s not Daddy,” the older girl objected from the backseat, her tone indignant. “That’s Uncle Trey.”

Kara’s breath caught.

The man backed out of the truck and turned to her, both of them now illuminated by the vehicle’s interior light. Steady blue eyes met hers. In that flashing moment his gaze reflected the surprise of mutual recognition. A recognition that rocked her to the core, all but knocking the wind right out of her.

He’d changed. Filled out. Matured. Laugh lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes. The crooked nose he’d broken from a fall off a horse still imparted a rugged, reckless air to his countenance. Same strong jaw, now in need of a shave. Every bit as handsome as he’d ever been. And then some.

“Kara?”

Her gaze riveted, struggling for breath, she could only nod. He didn’t try to jog her memory as to who he was. He knew she’d remember. He’d have read it in her eyes.

Oh, yes, she remembered Trey Kenton.

After a too-long moment, he gave a wry chuckle. “Didn’t figure I’d ever run into you again.”

She swallowed and held out the now-whimpering child. “I don’t imagine you did.”

He accepted his niece and handed over the snowbrush, but his eyes searched Kara’s. For what? Confirmation that she was sufficiently ashamed of the cowardly lurch she’d left him in those many years ago?

Oh, yes, she remembered. Would never forget. Or forgive herself. So why should he?

She broke eye contact and motioned to the child fussing in his arms. “She lost her mitten.”

How lame. She owed him an apology, not an evasive, impersonal observation.

He dug out a handkerchief and wiped the sniffling toddler’s nose, then enveloped the tiny bare hand in his large gloved one. “She hasn’t had a nap in days and now we’re all paying for it.”

Could he be as uncomfortable as she was? After all, the last time they saw each other… Her cheeks warmed at the memory.

“Come on, Uncle Trey. Let’s go home.”

“Hang on, Mary.”

He focused again on Kara with a look she could only interpret as wary. Couldn’t blame him.

“So, Kara, you’re back in Canyon Springs.”

She tightened her grip on the snowbrush. “Not for long. Helping my mom get back on her feet. She hasn’t been well.”

“Heard about that. Sorry.”

Was he? Sharon Dixon and Trey Kenton hadn’t exactly been a match made in heaven. Cowboy types didn’t easily endear themselves to her mom. Or her.

The wind kicked up again, swirling a stinging mix of snow and ice pellets into their faces.

“Need to get these kids home and tucked into bed.” He turned to the truck and eased the toddler into the empty car seat next to that of her sister.

Kara stepped away on unsteady legs. Was he visiting? Just babysitting for his brother and sister-in-law? Surely he hadn’t moved back to Canyon Springs. No way. From the moment he’d set a booted foot inside the city limits as a teen, he’d been determined to put the mountain community in his rearview mirror.

With speed that likely rivaled his best record at roping and tying a calf, Trey buckled in his niece. Then he shut the back door and turned to Kara once more, his face again shadowed. “Thank you kindly for your help.”

With a brisk nod and a tip of his hat, he limped around the front of the truck to the driver’s side and climbed in.

He didn’t have a limp in high school.

Heart pounding in an erratic rhythm, she could only stare stupefied at the pickup as another gust of wind slammed into her. She hardly felt the cold creeping in around the neckline of her jacket or the wind-driven snowflakes pelting her face.

That was it? A coolly polite “thank you kindly for your help”? She took another step back, absently glancing down at the frosty ground—and spied a pint-size mitten lying half-buried in the snow. She knelt to pick it up with a trembling hand.

But before she could return it to its diminutive owner, the truck started—and the man whose life she’d all but ruined drove away.

Whoa. Trey gave a low whistle as he and the girls headed out of town to his brother and sister-in-law’s place, the windshield wipers battling the pummeling snow.

Kara Dixon. Hadn’t bargained on that one tonight.

He’d been in and out of Canyon Springs the past several months and knew she’d returned at Thanksgiving. Heard she was an interior designer with some big firm in Chicago. Had even glimpsed her a few times, helping her mother out of a car at the grocery store. Unloading boxes at the Warehouse. Dashing coatless across the street to Camilla’s Café.

He’d intentionally kept his distance—even stayed away from town most weekends—but she wasn’t a woman who’d be easily overlooked. Not with that toned figure and long, red-blonde mane of hers caught up in a ponytail. Strawberry blonde. That’s how his sister-in-law described it. And Kara was model-tall and leggy, too, like a thoroughbred. He’d forgotten how it initially amused his seventeen-year-old self that ill-fated night when, in a sassy show of bravado, she’d walked right up to him, all but able to look him straight in the eye.

Just like her old man did to him now.

Well, maybe not just like. Her father’s blustery shot at intimidation didn’t send his heart galloping off like a wild mustang or his brain hurtling into a bottomless, fog-filled canyon. Didn’t make his mouth go as dry as the Sonoran desert before summer monsoons kicked in.

Trey took a deep breath, still reliving the shock of turning to face her. No, he hadn’t bargained on running into Kara up close and personal. And he sure hadn’t bargained on feeling as if he’d collided with rock-hard Mother Earth, compliments of an irritable bronc. Even after all this time, even after what she’d done to him, he couldn’t shake the impact of those beautiful gray eyes.

He let out a gust of pent-up breath. What was wrong with him anyway? He wasn’t a kid anymore with a crush on the prettiest girl he’d ever seen—yet his heart was doing a too-familiar do-si-do, the rhythm beckoning him back through time.

He slammed the heel of his hand into the rim of the steering wheel, startling his dog, Rowdy, who rode shotgun on the seat next to him. He gave the Gordon setter-collie mix a reassuring pat and a feathered tail wagged in understanding.

Kara. No way was he going down that road again. He’d come back to town to lay the past to rest, not resurrect it. Thank the good Lord it sounded like she didn’t plan to linger much longer. Just popping in to check on her mom. He needed to stay focused on the business at hand. Business, in fact, that Li’l Ms. Dixon wasn’t going to be much pleased about once word got around. Which it eventually would in a tiny place like this.

In spite of himself, his mind’s eye drifted to that long-ago night that now once again seemed like yesterday. The look in her eyes. The sweet scent of her hair. How she felt in his arms…

“Uncle Trey, why did you drive past our road?”

The accusing voice of his older niece carried from the shadowed recesses of the backseat, jerking him into the here and now.

“Just takin’ the scenic route.” He glanced into the rearview mirror at Mary, all the while racking his memory as to how much farther he’d have to drive to turn around with the empty trailer hitched to the back.

Kara Dixon was already messing with his mind.

“It’s dark.” Mary’s petulant voice came again. “I want to go home.”

She sounded as tired as he was. Three days playing both Mom and Dad had just about done him in. One more day to go.

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

“I’m your princess?”

“You know it.”

He glanced again at Mary, then over his shoulder at Missy and smiled. Sound asleep. He’d drive all night if it would keep her snoozing. What a day. He shouldn’t have dragged them all the way to Holbrook this afternoon to look at that pony.

Seemed like a good idea at the time, but that was before a stronger cold front plowed into the region. Before he’d discovered the advertised pinto was an ill-tempered beast, certainly nothing he’d want his nieces having anything to do with. Then there had been the diaper dealings. A lesson learned the hard way. No, not a day he cared to relive anytime soon. His sister-in-law would laugh her head off.

It was just as well, though, that the trip was a bust. His brother would have killed him if he’d bought the girls a pony. With the parsonage remodel in town coming along on schedule, Jason and his wife wouldn’t be staying at the cabin and acreage out in the boonies much longer. Which meant, too, he needed to give serious thought about what to do with himself. There wouldn’t be any space at the parsonage for a tagalong brother.

At least he’d soon be able to move his horses to the equine center he and a group of investors were renovating. Last week his working-from-home office assistant had submitted the final documents for a permit to board his horses, so at least he didn’t have to worry about that. Just needed to find office space until the facility’s remodel was completed—and a place to throw down his bedroll until a house caught his fancy.

A couple of miles farther on, he pulled into the snowy, graveled lot of a long-abandoned bait and tackle shop. He got himself turned around and headed back in the right direction.

“What was that lady’s name, Uncle Trey?” Mary piped up again.

“What lady is that? The pony woman?”

“No. The pretty one. Who was holding Missy.”

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Her name’s Kara Dixon. We went to high school together.”

“Did you kiss her?”

Memory flashed with an accompanying kick to his gut. Yes, he’d kissed her. Once. And fool that he was, a million other times in his dreams.

“Mommy said Daddy kissed her in high school when they were sixteen—on Valemtime’s Day—and then they got married.”

He smiled at her mispronunciation of the holiday.

“How old are you, Uncle Trey?”

“You’re awfully full of questions tonight, squirt.”

“Mommy says you need to kiss a girl and get married so you’ll stay in Canyon Springs.”

“Your mommy—” He stopped himself. Nothin’ he’d like better than to settle down close to “his girls.” That was the plan, but he didn’t want to set Mary up for disappointment if it didn’t work out. No point either in attempting to enlighten a four-year-old on his thoughts regarding the relentless mission of his sister-in-law. Except for the one date he’d managed to pull off behind her back, he’d steered clear of Reyna’s match-making, and females in general, since his return to town.

He didn’t need her hounding him about Kara Dixon. No siree. He wanted no part of the grown-up version of the girl from his past. The gray-eyed gal with a kissable mouth—who’d left him sittin’ high and dry when the cops showed up.

Chapter Two

“Where’d you get this darling little thing, doll?”

“What?” Jerked from her Trey-troubled thoughts, Kara looked up from the breakfast table. Her mother, Sharon Dixon, stood in the kitchen doorway waving the Kenton girl’s pink mitten.

She must have dropped it when she’d hung her coat on the enclosed back porch last night. Or had Mom been rifling through her pockets for cigarettes or other incriminating evidence of misbehavior, just as she’d once caught her doing when Kara was a teen? She cringed inwardly at the memory, thankful that even though their relationship wasn’t always warm and fuzzy, they’d come a long way in the past decade. Or so she’d thought.

“Found it last night. Belongs to one of Pastor Kenton’s kids, so I’ll need to return it.” No need to divulge how she knew who it belonged to. Hopefully Mom wouldn’t ask.

“I may see Reyna this morning. If she’s back from the re treat.” Her mother spoke in the raspy fragments of a former heavy smoker. “Ladies’ tea at the church. I’ll take it to her.”

Over and over throughout the night Kara had waded through possible scenarios of returning it. Of using the opportunity to ask Trey’s forgiveness. But of course her mom could return the mitten. That made the most sense. She couldn’t face the child’s uncle again anyway. How could she apologize without telling him the truth? A truth that she wasn’t free to tell?

What am I going to do, God?

Her grip tightened on the fork in her hand. Why couldn’t stupid choices made in the past be left in the past? And why did she keep wasting her breath, crying out to the Heavens about it? Hadn’t she learned when Dad walked out that God had more important things to deal with than her?

Aware that Mom was watching with a curious tilt to her head, she set her fork on the stoneware plate and glanced out the paned windows of the cozy cinnamon-scented kitchen. A frosty blanket coated the towering ponderosa pines, lending the trees a holiday-ish flocked appearance. But she wasn’t in a holiday mood. A blustering gust shook the powderlike crystals loose, flinging them into the air and sending a fairy dust cascade earthward. Sleet pecked on the window above the sink.

She shivered. Why’d Mom always keep it so cold in the house? “Is someone picking you up for the church thing, Mom, or do you want me to drive you? I don’t want you walking in this. That wind’s nasty.”

“Peggy’s coming by. You should come with us.” Her mom brushed a hand through her layered auburn hair. “Lindi’s giving a talk on community service. I think it’s one of those ‘it’s not what Canyon Springs can do for you, but what you can do for Canyon Springs’ spins. I know she’d love to see you.”

Since returning to town she hadn’t heard a peep out of her once-upon-a-time friend and cousin, Lindi Bruce. Did she know Trey was back?

“Unfortunately, there’s nobody to cover for me.” She folded her napkin and placed it on the worn wooden table by her plate. “Meg’s visiting a hospitalized friend in Phoenix and won’t be back until this afternoon. Roxanne has out-of-town company and asked for the day off.”

“Then give Lindi a call next week. You haven’t had a chance to catch up with any of your friends. Been too busy taking care of your feeble old mom.”

“That’s what I’m here for, Feeble Old Mom,” she teased, then drained the last of her orange juice. “In case you’ve forgotten, if I wasn’t helping you I wouldn’t even be in town.”

Her mother’s lips tightened and Kara’s heart sank. She’d said the wrong thing again. If only she could get along with Mom as well as her friend, Meg McGuire, got along with her. Every time she saw them together, laughing and on the same wavelength, jealousy stabbed. But then, Meg was everybody’s sweetheart.

“Nevertheless,” her mother continued, “with Lindi running for city council, you have lots of catching up to do. She’s a dream candidate, even as young as she is—sure to give Jake Talford a run for his money. Her granddad’s about to pop his buttons. You two girls make your families proud.”

That was debatable.

She stood, then carried her plate and glass to the sink where she rinsed them off. The only time Mom was proud of her was when she was doing exactly what Mom wanted her to do. Like coming back to Canyon Springs.

She glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty. “Guess I’d better brush my teeth and head over to the Warehouse. With fresh snow, the more adventuresome types may look for outdoor activities. Maybe ski rentals will do a good business today.”

“We can hope. The recession’s lingering effects have hit the high country hard.”

Kara frowned. Her mother and an accountant in Show Low looked after the books for Dix’s Woodland Warehouse. Kara didn’t have a clue about anything on the business side of her mother’s store. “We’re doing okay, though, aren’t we? I mean, turning an adequate profit, right?”

Mom smiled. “Tightening the belt a bit. But don’t go worrying about that.”

“Well, you don’t need to be worrying about stuff like that either. Did you sleep okay last night? You look tired.”

While her mom had only turned fifty-six last month, she’d gradually put on excessive pounds through the years. Which led to borderline diabetes and knee damage, and put her on a walker on bad days. But she’d lost considerable weight in the aftermath of her November heart attack and no longer had the round, merry face all had grown accustomed to. When Kara returned at Thanksgiving, it had been like coming home to a ghost of her mother.

Which scared her.

“I’m fine, doll.”

“You have to be honest with me, Mom.” She folded her arms in an attempt to feel in control, when all she wanted was to slip into the comfort of her mother’s arms like she’d done when she was a little kid. Everything coming all at once— Mom’s illness, taking leave from her job, Trey’s return… It was too much. “If you’re not feeling well, we need to get you checked out before things get out of hand again.”

“I’m fine. Goodness knows you’re not letting me do anything around here.” Her mom chuckled. “Between both you and Meg helping, I’ve plumb become a lady of leisure.”

“Take it easy today, okay? Get some rest. Going to that tea isn’t a priority.”

“Does me good to see everybody. Laugh a little.”

She fixed a glare of mock reprimand on her parent. “Catch up on gossip?”

“Mercy me, at a church event?”

Laughing with Mom felt good. Why couldn’t it be like this between them all the time?

“Speaking of gossip—” She paused, preparing to ask if her mom was aware that Trey Kenton had returned to town. Then she thought better of it. Should her mother confess, it would only lead to an argument. “Never mind.”

If God had the time and inclination to take mercy on her, she’d be out of town in a couple of weeks and never have to see Trey again.

Trey kept his voice low as he spoke into his cell phone.

“Sure wish you’d stop talking about my love life in front of the girls, Reyna.”

His sister-in-law’s whoop echoed in his ear. “And what love life would that be?”

He pictured the wide smile of his brother’s pretty, plump wife. White teeth flashing in contrast to her creamy Hispanic skin tone, her dark eyes dancing. Not only lovely, but her husband’s number one fan, a great mom and a woman of deep faith. How’d his little brother rate such a catch? Must have extra pull in the heavenly realms.

“Very funny, Rey. But I’m serious.”

“Ooh, serious, huh?” She giggled. “As in you’re going to do what if I don’t stop?”

“If you want me to stay here like you keep saying you do, knock it off. Mary’s too young to be fixating on kissing and romance and marriage and stuff.”

“Kissing and stuff?” Reyna giggled again. “Were you dealing with birds and bees issues this week, Uncle Trey?”

Fighting a smile, he walked sock-footed across the cabin’s hardwood floor to the living room, then pulled back one of the insulated drapes. Still snowing. “Put Jason on, will you?”

His sis-in-law laughed again, then he could tell she’d covered the mouthpiece to bring his younger sibling up to speed. They were in Tucson for a pastoral retreat, enjoying cactus and warm sunshine. Lucky dogs.

“Yo, bro.” The voice of Jason Kenton, pastor of Canyon Springs Christian Church, greeted him. “Reyna giving you a hard time?”

Trey’s smile broadened as he continued to stare at the wind-shaken ponderosa pines. “Is there ever a time she doesn’t?”

“So, what’s up?”

“Just checking in. You still planning to get home tonight?”

“Last session’s over around noon. Hope to be home before dark.” Jason paused. “But we’re willing to stay another night if you’ll cover the worship service tomorrow morning. And devotions at the care facility in the afternoon.”

“Dream on, preacher man.” His brother had been on his case for months to take a more active role in the family “business.”

“Unless, of course, you think your congregation can ferret out a deeper meaning in a ridin’ and ropin’ demonstration.”

Jason chuckled, and Trey envisioned him scrubbing a hand alongside his neatly clipped beard, facial hair he’d grown in recent months in hopes of looking more mature.

“So, the girls behaving themselves this morning?”

“Still in bed.” Trey raked a hand through his sleep-matted hair. “Hey, while I have you on the line—I was wondering if you remember the name of a guy who was in your graduating class. The one with the big ears and funny laugh. Couldn’t even wait to get off school property before he’d pull out a cigarette and light up. Was always wanting to borrow my lighter.”

“Pete. Pete Burlene.” Jason paused for a moment. “Why? You think he’s the one?”

“Grasping at straws is more like it.”

“You know, Trey—” His younger brother let out a huff of air, then continued in his best pastoral tone that for some reason always irritated Trey. Even after four years in ministry in Canyon Springs, it remained a stretch for Jason to sound older and wiser than his twenty-eight years. “You have to ask yourself, bro, is it worth it? Worth getting tied up in knots trying to uncover the real culprit’s identity?”

“Look, Jason—”

“If this is what it’s going to do to you, maybe settling back in Canyon Springs isn’t the best move after all.” He lowered his voice. “In spite of what my wife thinks.”

Trey’s jaw tightened. Jason still didn’t get it. “I don’t think there’s any harm in trying to clear my name.”

“But look what it’s doing to you. And you’re no closer to finding out who left your lighter at the scene of that fire than when you first hit town. Face it. It’s been twelve years.”

“Every man needs a hobby.”

Jason scoffed.

“Look, Jas, injury cost me my livelihood. Then my new job brings me back here. You’re the one who’s always saying there’s no such thing as coincidence. Doesn’t it sound to you like God’s providing an opportunity for resolution? Justice?”

“’Fraid I can’t speak for the Man Upstairs on this one, dude.”

What he meant was he thought his big brother was chasing after something better left alone. Well, he could think whatever he wanted. He wasn’t the one locals looked at with suspicion. Nobody questioned his honesty. His integrity. They didn’t whisper behind his back.

“It’s a shame,” Jason continued, “that you were such a loner—and that our folks had taken me to Phoenix to catch a plane for that spring break mission trip. You didn’t have anyone to confirm you were nowhere near Duffy’s place when the property caught fire.”

Trey’s lips tightened. It didn’t do you any good to have a rock-solid alibi if your star witness refused to come forward.

“Well, Jas, I’ll let you get back to your retreat. I have to pick up my toys, then hit the shower before the girls wake up.” He glanced around at the cabin strewn with kid stuff. A diaper bag toppled on its side. Stuffed animals and dolls in various stages of dress piled on the sofa. Pint-size shoes and socks under the coffee table. Yesterday’s dishes still in the sink. How’d it get to be such a disaster in only three days?

Jason barked a laugh. “Why do I have a feeling the girls will have lots to tell us when we get home?”

Trey groaned. “Yeah, well, just remember you owe me one.”

“You got it, buddy.”

“Take it easy coming up the mountain. Snowing.”

“Will do.”

Trey shut off the phone and again stared out the window at the swirling, wind-whipped flakes, making no move to wrestle his surroundings to order.

He shook his head as memories he’d fought all night resurfaced. Kara Lee Dixon. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d been as surprised to see him last night as he’d been to see her. Maybe more so. Hadn’t she known he was back in town? Not from the look on her face. The fear in her expressive eyes.

What did she think he’d do after all these years? Chew her out on a public street? Make a spectacle of himself in front of the girls? Call the cops? No, he’d long ago forgiven her.

He hadn’t handled their reunion well. Caught off guard, he’d been every bit as tongue-tied around her as he’d ever been as a teen. Practically threw Missy in the truck, then climbed in and hit the gas. That must have impressed the former girl of his dreams.

But like it or not, he and Kara needed to have a little chat.

Chapter Three

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you went out with Trey Kenton last fall.” Kara looked up from where she knelt mopping a front corner of the Warehouse floor and leveled a disbelieving stare at her old college roommate.

Meg McGuire, soon to be Mrs. Joseph Diaz, had stopped by mid-afternoon Saturday to collect a trunk full of flattened cardboard boxes. Now here she stood, handing Kara another old bath towel and delivering the dismaying confirmation that Trey was indeed considering moving back to town. He was heading up a renovation of Duffy Logan’s old horse facility, a property that had closed and fallen into disrepair almost a decade ago when Duffy suffered a debilitating stroke and his wife moved him out of town for better medical care. But why would Trey come back here of all places? Right smack-dab on top of the scene of the crime that drove him from town as a teenager?

“How would I know you had any connection to Trey?” Meg’s eyes narrowed with interest beneath the fluffy bangs of her short, brunette hair. “When your name came up one time, I couldn’t tell if he even remembered you.”

Oh, he remembered her all right.

“He definitely recalled that old car of yours,” Meg continued with a teasing tone.

Kara’s memory flashed to the infamous ’63 Mustang. The sporty, cream-colored car her daddy had lovingly restored and left behind when he took off for new adventures. He’d had the gall to transfer the registration to her as a sweet sixteen birthday gift. It still sat in the garage behind her mother’s house.

“I sense a story here.” Meg’s eyes sparkled with a speculative gleam. “Were you and Trey sweeties? Hmm?”

Warmth crept into Kara’s cheeks as she wiped the wooden floor with a fresh towel, then got to her feet. She’d told her mom about the leak last spring, yet the trickle again coursed down the wall from ceiling to floor. From the looks of the warped plaster and paint discoloration above, the summer monsoon season had added to the damage. Now the snow. So much for the expertise of repairmen.

“Trey and I were friends. Sort of.” How could she explain the mixed-up adolescent relationship she didn’t even understand herself?

“Friends, huh? Your mom mentioned you had a crush on my Joe once upon a time, but she never mentioned Trey.”

Kara laughed. “Mom talks too much.”

She crossed the rustic, wood-beamed room to spread soppy bath towels on the bricked portion of the floor in front of the woodstove. “Joe was my crush of the moment in middle school—when I found out his mom walked out on him like my dad did me. Besides, there wasn’t anything to mention about Trey—except Mom didn’t like him.”

She lifted an insulated carafe from its perch next to the coffeemaker and poured a mug of spiced cider for Meg. She’d kept her more-than-friends feelings for Trey a secret from the world those many years ago. Seemed strange to be openly teased about him now. And why did her heart tap-dance at the mere mention of his name, just like it had at sixteen?

“She didn’t like him because of the cowboy connection? Because of your dad?” Meg cupped the mug in her hands and inhaled the fragrant brew. “Or because, you know, of that other thing?”

Kara stiffened, the carafe poised above another mug. “You’ve heard about that?”

Meg nodded, her expression curious.

“Mom always said cowboys were trouble.” Kara filled the second mug to the brim. “But he didn’t do it. So don’t believe anything you hear to the contrary.”

“I didn’t learn about it until after I went out with him. But I wasn’t about to believe it. I’m glad my instincts were on target.” She took a sip of cider. “So, then, if you weren’t sweethearts, why are you all bent out of shape that he could be moving back to town?”

“I’m not bent out of shape.” Kara met her friend’s gaze, doing her best to keep her voice from betraying the turmoil inside. Meg wasn’t trying to be nosy. They’d been open with each other in college, sharing all the secrets young women held dear. Except the one having to do with Trey. “I’m surprised, that’s all. Didn’t expect to run into him last night. You might find this hard to believe, as enamored as you are with Canyon Springs, but he hated this town.”

“He’s never mentioned that to me.”

“You’ve talked a lot?”

“Some.”

Was Meg being deliberately obtuse, trying to draw her out? To get her to say more than she had any intention of saying?

“He’s so sweet,” her friend rambled on, a playful twinkle in her eye. “And single. Never married.”

“If he’s such a great catch,” Kara fired back with a grin, “why aren’t you marrying him instead of Joe?”

She couldn’t picture Meg and Trey as a good match, but nevertheless a fleeting tingle of envy pierced her consciousness. After all, Meg had dated him not long ago. What had that been like? Trey, all grown up. A man.

“I was falling for Joe by the time I met Trey.” Meg’s eyes went dreamy, so at least she hadn’t been forced to come to a heartrending decision between the two men.

“Just remember, Meg—” she took a sip of cider before setting down the mug “—if you want to make it to your wedding day alive, don’t even think of trying to set me up with him.”

“Vannie Quintero, the teen who works at my future father-in-law’s campground, is thrilled to be teamed up with an ex-cowboy.” Meg winked. “Maybe you would be, too.”

“Don’t count on it.” Kara gave in to a smile and tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. She’d hardly believed it when Meg had told her Trey agreed to mentor a high school kid. Or that no one, considering his own teenage track record, voiced objections. “Besides, there’s no such thing as an ex-cowboy.”

“You never can tell. With the right woman…” Meg gave her a mischievous poke in the arm. “Now that I’m going to be more than a temporary resident of Canyon Springs, I wish you’d move back, too. Think of all the fun we’d have.”

“Fun?” she countered with a grin of her own. “Like watching you and Joe cuddling up on the sofa, eyes glued to each other like at the New Year’s Eve party a couple of weekends ago?”

“Hook up with Trey,” Meg said, wiggling her eyebrows, “then go thou and do likewise.”

Kara shook a finger at her. “I’m warning you—”

Her friend had all but bubbled with happiness since she and Joe got engaged. Must be nice. Not that she resented her friend’s good fortune to find a guy like the ex-navy corpsman with a cute kid. Meg more than deserved a happily ever after. But if Kara had the misfortune to return permanently, she’d likely seldom see her old friend. With Meg’s full-time teaching job, a soon-to-be husband, new stepson—and probably future kids—that didn’t leave much time to hang out.

Besides, Canyon Springs wasn’t in her future. Never had been. Never would be.

She held up her hand, thumb and forefinger pressed together. “I’m this far from that promotion. And I’m sure my supervisor wouldn’t appreciate my ditching him right now. Not after he’s gone out of his way to cover for me while I’m checking in on Mom. I promised to be back in two more weeks, and I take my promises seriously.”

Her memory flickered to the last conversation she’d had with her supervisor and mentor, Spencer Alexander. He’d laughed, but not in a derogatory way, when she’d let it slip that her father had been a rodeo cowboy. He’d called her his “little cowgirl.”

“And don’t forget,” she continued. “I came back here for a few weeks last spring when that new medication got Mom’s system all out of whack. And when she fell last summer. Unpaid time off isn’t helping my professional reputation—or my savings account. I’m still covering my quarter of the rent and utilities on the apartment even when I’m not there. Making car payments, too.”

Meg gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’m thrilled you’re getting a chance to live your dream. But I can dream, too, can’t I?”

“Dream away. But don’t hold your breath.”

Meg glanced at her watch, then set her mug down before snatching her jacket off the back of a nearby chair. “Thanks for helping me load the boxes. I’d better get going. Have a few things to finish up before we start carting things over to the new place tonight. Joe’s dad let us store my Phoenix furniture at the RV park’s rec center until we got the house livable.”

With another twinge of unexpected envy, Kara recalled the cute little place Meg and Joe bought last month and where Meg would now be living prior to the wedding. She’d helped her spruce up the kitchen last week. A little paint and a lot of elbow grease. New floor tile laid and curtains hung.

“You’re still having a move-in party tonight? Even with the snow?”

“Yeah. It’ll be messy, which is why I want to cut up boxes to protect the hardwood floor.” Meg zipped her coat and dug gloves out of her pockets. “Joe starts official paramedic training Monday and he wants me settled in before he leaves.”

Kara motioned to the ceiling. “Even though you weren’t in the upstairs apartment for long, I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too. It was great not to have to spend the past six weeks in the RV. Your mom wouldn’t even take rent money—said to consider it an engagement gift. Can you believe it? But I’m sure she could use a paying tenant.”

“She wouldn’t have offered it if she’d needed the money.”

Meg’s smile widened. “Now I have a wedding to finish planning, don’t I? Spring break will be here before we know it. Speaking of which, Joe’s Aunt Rosa started sewing your maid of honor dress. Hopefully she’ll be far enough along for a final fitting before you leave.”

Bells above the store’s front door tinkled, sounding merrier than Kara felt, and the pair glanced at a bundled-up couple entering the welcoming warmth of the general store.

“Looks like I’d better let you get back to work.” Meg stepped forward to give her a hug. “Good luck on getting the leak fixed. See you tonight?”

Kara nodded, but it was with a heavy heart that she watched her friend out the door. Even though Meg didn’t seem to sense it, she didn’t like the invisible wall that reared itself between them with Trey’s return. But there was no way she’d attempt to explain to her what she’d done to him. Meg was so enthralled with Trey, she’d never understand. She’d certainly think far less of her college friend if she knew.

Already dreading an evening where Trey might show up, Kara grabbed a dust cloth and gave the checkout counter a swipe, then paused to gaze around the familiar expanse of the Warehouse. The paned windows. Plank floors. Well-stocked grocery items and other general merchandise. Displays of mountain country souvenirs and outdoor gear.

The knot in her stomach tightened. Why hadn’t her cousin Lindi alerted her to Trey’s return? Lindi. The reason she couldn’t tell Trey the truth. Beg his forgiveness. It was twelve years ago this very spring that her confused and scared, barely sixteen-year-old self had made the promise. Pledged that she wouldn’t tell a soul her best-friends-forever cousin had confessed to accidentally setting the forest on fire.

By the time she’d found out Trey had been accused…it was too late. She’d already made that impulsive vow that still reached out to haunt her. Just one more sign that while God may have set her world in motion, kept it spinning, he was most often off in another sector of the universe.

“Hey, Trey!” Meg grabbed his snow-covered, jacketed arm, hauling him and his nieces off the porch and into the house she and Joe would soon be calling home. “You’re just in time for pizza.”

He stepped onto the rug by the door, Missy in his arms and Mary clinging shyly to his leg. He gazed around a room full of people helping themselves to the savory, mouthwatering contents of cardboard delivery boxes. He glimpsed a few familiar faces—Meg’s fiancé and his dad and son. A dozen or two others he guessed to be church friends or teacher pals of Meg. Some of Joe’s buds.

Recognition flickered in the gazes of several guests. That was to be expected in a small town. Warm interest reflected in the smiles of a few of the younger women. That was usually to be expected as well—wherever.

But no Kara.

Thank you, Lord.

He almost hadn’t come, thinking she might be here, that it might be awkward, but he hated to back out on Meg. The perky newcomer to town had held a special place in his heart ever since they met last September. If it wasn’t for that hotshot Diaz guy, it might be him settling down with the pretty schoolteacher. Or at least that’s what he told himself on poor-pitiful-me days. But by the time he’d gotten her to go out with him, she was already falling for the ex-navy guy, one of Reyna’s cousins. Meg hadn’t realized it yet, but Trey had, and he backed off.

“Sorry I’m late, Meg. I’ve been babysitting the past few days and Jason and Reyna still aren’t home yet.”

A chorus of soft aahs echoed from female throats and inwardly he chuckled. It hadn’t taken long to figure out that if you wanted to score interest with the local ladies, babysitting by far outweighed the classic walking-the-pup routine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Joe’s father, Bill Diaz, taunted, his mustached mouth widening in a smile. “Timed it just right so all the heavy lifting’s done.”

“Guess you cowboys aren’t as dumb as you look.” The dark-eyed Joe cast him an appraising glance, a look he’d become accustomed to during the months Joe’d been courting Meg and keeping an eye open for rivals.

Relax, dude. She’s all yours now.

“Don’t listen to them, Trey,” Meg said as he toed off his boots at the door. “You can make yourself useful bringing in the sodas—which my loving fiancé forgot to do.”

A slice of pizza halfway to his mouth, Joe made sounds of protest.

“Consider it done.” Trey would rather do something constructive than stand around making small talk with people he didn’t know. People who may have formed judgments about him based on rumor. Coming back to Canyon Springs held more than its share of challenges. But God opened doors and he was gonna be man enough to walk through them no matter what it took.

Meg reached out for Missy, then he knelt to divest Mary of her coat. He peeled out of his own jacket and tossed their stuff on a folding table piled high with outdoor wear. Not trusting the guests to know a genuine Stetson when they saw one, he hesitated to top off the mound with his felt hat. But his ever-alert hostess snatched it from him and slid it onto a peg by the front door, then pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

With Mary gripping the welted side seam of his jeans, he made his way through the crowd, following the cardboard carpet past the staircase and into the kitchen. Looked like new floor tile. Fresh paint job on the cabinets, too. Curtains at the windows. Nice. Meg’s doing? Or Kara’s?

He’d have to figure out something homey like that when he bought a fixer-upper of his own. Having scrimped and saved every spare dime of his rodeo winnings for a hefty down payment, he had his heart set on a little house, some acreage. Had been looking forward for years to a day when he could settle down, start a family. A place like this, on the edge or outside of town, would be ideal. That is, if he cleared his name and made a go of the business. Old Reuben Falkner, city councilman, wasn’t making the latter an easy effort.

He headed to an open door where Meg had indicated he’d find the laundry room. A light was on, but when he stepped to the doorway of the miniscule room, he halted. A familiar red-blonde ponytail dangled halfway down the back of a trim female dressed in figure-skimming jeans and a blue wool sweater.

Kara.

With her back to him, she wiped off soda cans arranged on the clothes dryer’s surface. He had a second to catch his breath. But no time to back out the door before, head down and lost in thought, she whirled in his direction. Ran smack into his chest.

“Oh!” Her long-lashed gray eyes met his as she took a startled step back, pulling away from his hand that had instinctively reached out to steady her. For a long moment their gazes held. Every bit as close and as beautiful as she’d been that long-ago night. The night she’d sashayed up to him. Slipped her arms around his neck…

But tonight her eyes were that of a filly fixin’ to bolt.

“I didn’t hear you.” Face flushing, she took another step back and glared at his socked feet as if he’d deliberately shed his boots to sneak up on her.

“Sorry. I was put on soda duty.”

Kara frowned, apparently irritated Meg hadn’t thought her capable to handle the task on her own. Then she spied Mary clutching his leg and her expression softened. She motioned to the cans.

“You can haul some of these to the living room if you’d like. Or break up that bag of ice in the chest there.”

“Ice or sodas, doesn’t matter to me.” He chuckled, hoping to catch her eye and put her at ease, but she kept her focus on anything but him.

“Ice then.”

He nodded and they did an uneasy tango as he and Mary maneuvered around her, the air charged with an unmistakable, mutual awareness. Had twelve years really gone by?

She took a sidestep toward the now-vacated doorway, but without thinking he shot out his arm to block her. Wary eyes met his. His breath caught at the light scent of her woodsy perfume.

“We need to talk, Kara.”

Where’d that come from? He’d been hangin’ out with his sister-in-law too long. Starting to sound like a girl. But all he needed was a lousy five minutes. He’d ditch Mary and make Kara understand he didn’t hold anything against her. That she could stop looking at him like he was going to haul her into court.

Her brows lowered. “I—”

“Trey, did you bring Rowdy with you?” the familiar voice of five-year-old Davy Diaz called from across the kitchen.

Trey stared at Kara a long moment, his heartbeat counting off the seconds. Then he lowered his arm and turned to the youngster who trotted across the floor toward him and Mary. Bad timing, kid. But he’d sensed Kara’s relief.

He gazed down at the black-haired, brown-eyed boy and smiled at the youngster’s reference to his canine sidekick. Kids loved Rowdy. “We can’t stay long, so he’s out in the truck. That woolly coat of his keeps him toasty warm.”

“Daddy wouldn’t let me bring my puppy.” Davy’s shoulders slumped as he crammed his hands in his jeans pockets in an adultlike gesture. A miniature little man. His dark eyes brightened as he studied his cousin, Mary, who’d loosened a grip on Trey’s pant leg and taken a hesitant step forward.

“Kara’s already seed it,” the boy continued, “but do you guys wanna see my new room? I’m gonna live here when we marry Miss Meg.”

Mary looked up at Trey, hope in her eyes.

How could he turn down such cool kids? He glanced at Kara, but she again avoided his gaze. “I’d like to, Davy, but after I finish up here, okay? You two go on without me.”

“No, go right ahead,” the woman next to him insisted, all but shoving him out the door. “I can handle things here.”

All I need, Lord, is five stinkin’ minutes.

Granted, the other thing he needed to explain would likely take more than five minutes—if she’d hear him out at all. Her father had told him the two of them still weren’t on speaking terms. Hadn’t been for fifteen years. But he’d need to get her old man’s permission to discuss it with her anyway.

He hauled Mary into his arms and Davy stepped forward to grab his free hand. Glancing back as the little boy pulled him along, he caught Kara’s skittish gaze. Gave her a nod.

“We still need to talk, darlin’.”

Chapter Four

We need to talk.

Ugh. Kara rummaged in a laundry room drawer until she found a small, metal mallet, then she knelt by the insulated chest to break up the bag of solidifying crushed ice. No wonder men hated that phrase when women accosted them with it.

So he thought they needed to talk? Until he walked into the room and she literally ran into him, she’d have agreed. She’d intended, at some point, to apologize as best she could. But not here. Not now. And certainly not after seeing the mutual memory of her immature teenage behavior spark in his expressive eyes. Heard his breath catch when their gazes held for a too-long moment. No, not the shared memory of his being abandoned to the law. Rather, an even more vivid memory of her boldly stepping up to him. Thoroughly kissing him. Making a suggestion she had no business making.

He’d rejected it on the spot.

She gave the ice another series of whacks that sent shattered fragments flying, then stood. She’d been young and stupid back then. Probably every bit as stupid even now because every fiber of her being cried out to dash into the cold, dark night as far from Trey as she could get.

She shouldn’t have come this evening. She’d anticipated a few awkward, public moments if he showed up for Meg’s party. Steeled herself for superficial greetings. Self-conscious small talk. But she hadn’t anticipated him hunting her down, corralling her in the laundry room for one-on-one time. Wanting to settle old scores. Here. Tonight.

With shaky hands she dumped the contents of the plastic bag into the cooler with a resounding clatter.

“What’s taking so long?” Meg appeared in the doorway of the laundry room, Trey’s niece, the infamous screamer, in her arms. Thank goodness the contrary little thing seemed content enough tonight. Maybe her uncle had gotten her down for a nap.

“Where’s Trey? I sent him to help you.”

So much for warning her old friend not to matchmake.

“Davy dragged him upstairs to look at his room.”

“Men.” Meg made a silly face, then frowned. “You okay? You look kinda funny.”

Hope sparked. Now was an ideal opportunity to make her getaway. “A little tired, I guess. Everything from the past weeks is catching up with me. Think I’ll cut out early. Get to bed at a decent hour for a change.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, anxious to retrieve her coat and boots and get out of there. But she’d no more thought it than light footsteps followed by heavier ones clambered down the staircase. Glancing past Meg, she saw Davy and Mary head to the living room and a frowning Trey step into the kitchen, a finger poked in one ear and his cell phone pressed to the other.

He moved to the French doors leading to the patio, flipped on the exterior light and peered into the night. “You’re kidding. Yeah, it’s snowing harder up here, but—”

He turned as Meg and Kara entered the kitchen as well, then covered the mouthpiece. “Jason. DPS won’t let anyone come up the mountain tonight.”

“Oh, no,” Meg whispered, giving Missy a hug.

But Missy paid her little attention, her wide dark eyes fixed on Kara, a dainty hand reaching toward her. Kara managed a weak smile in the child’s direction, hoping Mighty Mouth wasn’t fixing to treat them to a replay of last night’s deafening rendition. She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and cautiously eased away.

Trey continued to listen to his brother, his expression broadcasting dismay with the Arizona Department of Public Safety. He cleared his throat. “Sure, I can cover the care facility stuff. But come on, I don’t know how to preach.”

Kara and Meg exchanged a glance. Jason wanted Trey to preach tomorrow?

“No, no. Don’t lose any sleep over it. I’ll figure something out.” He switched the phone to his other ear. “What? Naw. I don’t think it’s gonna get that bad.”

He again glanced out the glass panes. Snow whipped out of the darkness, piling up at the base of the door. “Well, if it comes to that, maybe we can get a motel room. Don’t want to impose on anybody. But I don’t think—”

Meg and Kara exchanged puzzled glances.

“No, don’t worry. I’ll handle it. Yeah. Yeah. You, too.”

He shut off the phone and let out a gusty sigh. Then he looked over at them, his smile tight. “He says if we get what DPS says we’re going to get, there’s no way I can dig out from his place in the morning in time to cover at the church.”

Meg’s face crinkled in sympathy. “They had to stay overnight with her folks a few weeks ago when we got that foot and a half of snow. I’ve been out there—that forest service road is super-primitive. So you’re covering for Jason tomorrow?”

“Looks like it. He says it’s too late to call a member of the congregation to fill in. Unfortunately,” Trey continued with a glance in her direction, “Reyna’s folks are out of town and I don’t know her siblings well enough to show up on their doorsteps. So I guess we’d better get moving if I’m going to get the girls settled in at a motel.”

He took Missy from Meg’s arms, but the little girl’s brown eyes remained fixed on Kara. “I’m totally unprepared except for a truckload of diapers, but that snow’s accumulating fast.”

“Oh, forget the motel, Trey. I’m sure Joe and his dad would put you up for the night.” Meg motioned to the interior of her house. “The girls can stay with me. Plenty of room here for Rowdy, too.”

“Thanks, but I couldn’t—”

Meg cut him off with a snap of her fingers, her eyes brightening. “No, no, wait. I have a better idea. Kara and I have the perfect solution to your predicament.”

“You do?” His voice held a note of wariness.

Kara didn’t like the sound of her friend’s proposal either. “We do?”

“Sure we do.” Meg stepped across the kitchen, then pulled her purse from a lower cabinet shelf. A moment later she swung around, dangling a key from a fluorescent pink pom-pom key ring.

“Ta da! Remember the apartment I just vacated? Dix’s Woodland Warehouse Bed-and-Breakfast to the rescue.”

From the look on Kara’s face an hour ago when Meg ex tended the unexpected invitation, he was in the doghouse for sure. Their mutual friend’s enthusiastic offer had caught both of them off guard. He’d done his best to protest, to give Kara an out, but an oblivious Meg insisted it was the ideal solution. Caught in the middle, Kara had done the only thing she could do—echoed her old friend’s generous suggestion. Assured him she was more than happy to put him and his nieces up at the Warehouse.

But he knew better.

Nevertheless, here he was in the second-floor apartment, ready to get the girls settled in. Meg kept Rowdy for the night, and Kara indicated she’d be by shortly to make sure they had everything they needed for the unplanned sleepover.

He watched his giggling nieces explore the unfamiliar space, looking none too sleepy if he was any judge. It was a church night, though, so he had to get them tucked in soon. Then he had to figure out a plan for tomorrow’s worship service. And the visit to Pine Country Care.

But first things first.

When Kara showed up, they’d have that little talk he’d promised, even if he had to lasso the little lady to do it.

She’d throttle Meg later.

Lodging a complaint, insisting her friend withdraw the offer, would have made her seem petty. Tightening her grip on the overflowing fabric shopping bag, she exited by the Warehouse’s front door and locked up. Then, scurrying through the deepening snow, she made her way toward a recessed door between the stone-fronted Warehouse and the adjacent bakery.

She didn’t appreciate Meg’s interference—especially after she’d asked her not to set her up with the cowboy. Even if they didn’t have a canyon-size gulf from their past yawning between them, she and Trey didn’t know each other anymore. Had never known each other. Not really. He’d moved to town in November of his senior year. The fire had been in late March, after a series of drought-ridden years. So five months max. Yet she’d spent over a decade bound to him. Chained by guilt.

Gathering her courage, she pulled open the glass-paned door and started up the steep, dimly lit stairs like a condemned prisoner heading for the guillotine. She’d do her best to drop off the bag and make a hasty exit. But what if he tried to corner her as he’d done at Meg’s? Demand an explanation of her cowardice and a long overdue apology?

He had every right. She owed him that.

But not tonight.

At the sound of little girl giggles, running feet and Trey’s cowboyish whoops coming from a door left ajar at the top of the stairs, she paused. The Trey she’d known in those few short months hadn’t been criminally rebellious like some of their peers. No, he just went quietly about his business doing whatever he wanted to do, whether it was not completing homework, skipping school so he could spend more time with the horses at Duffy’s or sneaking an occasional cigarette. In all honesty, it was her own cowardice that sealed his troublemaker image in the mind of the community. Now here he was a dozen years later, a guy with a toddler in his arms and another curtain climber hanging on his leg. A regular family man. No, they didn’t know each other. At all.

At the top of the stairs it was tempting to leave the shopping bag looped over the doorknob and make her escape. But curiosity won over and she gave the door a push. Peeked inside as a giggling Missy, her chubby little legs pumping as fast as they could go, dodged Trey’s outstretched hands.

The apartment’s unobstructed, hardwood expanse made it much too appealing for an active toddler. In fact, except for the bathroom and kitchen, the nonstorage portion of the second floor consisted of a single room divided by a wide, bolted-down bookcase that separated the sleeping quarters from the front area. Perfect for an energetic little kid, as Kara remembered from her own childhood.

She stepped inside as Missy sped by.

“Don’t just stand there laughing, woman, catch her!” Trey lunged again, sliding on the polished wooden floor in his socks. Then he righted himself and in a few quick steps swept the still-giggling toddler into his arms for a bear hug.

Kara couldn’t help but clap her approval of the child’s antics—and Trey’s agile performance. She should have known a cowboy, once he got the hang of it, could round up a kid as easily as a calf.

Still clutching the shopping bag, butterfly wings hammering against the wall of her stomach, she carefully wiped her boots on the rug by the door. “My mom said I did exactly the same thing in here when I was little.”

A grinning Trey approached, Missy squirming in his arms. “You lived up here?”

“From birth through preschool. This was my folks’ first place in Canyon Springs, right above their new business.”

Trey assessed the space with a critical eye. “Now that Meg’s moved out, does your mom have any plans for it?”

Uh-oh. That sounded like a more-than-casual query. She didn’t want Trey upstairs. Didn’t want him in Canyon Springs at all. Mustering a benign smile, she cut him off at the pass. “She’ll need the extra storage space for inventory expansion. Besides, as you can probably tell, it’s not that well insulated. Cold in the winter and hot in the summer.”

The dark-eyed Missy stretched out a hand to her but she pretended not to notice.

“Meg didn’t have any complaints.” He glanced toward Mary who’d wandered to the far side of the room. He took a step closer to Kara and lowered his voice, apparently wanting to make sure the little girl was out of earshot. “Don’t want to talk about this in front of Mary—”

She tensed. Was he going to call her on the carpet? Right here and now?

“—but I’ve already worn out my welcome at my little brother’s place. They’ll be moving back to the parsonage soon, so I need an office and a place to bunk. This would be just the ticket.”

“Don’t think Mom would go for that.”

The slow smile that still made Kara’s heart skip a beat surfaced. “Why not?”

She glanced at the boots standing at attention by the door. A hat nestled on a bookcase shelf, out of reach of the girls. Then looked him over. Worn jeans. Tooled leather belt with a silver buckle. Western-cut burgundy shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Just like in high school, only a more muscled, more grown-up version of the senior classmate she remembered.

“I don’t think she’d go for, you know, a cowboy type.”

“No cowboys, huh?” He pried Missy’s fingers from his earlobe, but his amused gaze didn’t leave Kara’s face. “That’s discrimination, Kara.”

“What I mean is, if Mom was looking for a renter—which she’s not—she’d be expecting a steady income. A stable tenant who’d stick around awhile.”

“Then we’re in business.” He slapped his left leg, the apparent source of the limp. “Busted myself up so many times my surgeon’s washed his hands of me. Says I’d better not get on another bronc or bull or I could end up in traction the rest of my life. I’m grounded for good. So I’m your man.”

Her breath came a little quicker. Her man? Maybe in her dreams. Unfortunately, cowboying wasn’t the only drawback to Trey Kenton. She might as well be blunt. “Mom will remember you as you were in high school.”

“Boys grow up.” A friendly but assessing gaze slid over her and a smile quirked again. “Girls do, too.”

Their gazes met. How easy it would be to fall back into that old flirtatious teenage banter they used to share. The chemistry had stood the test of time, but she couldn’t risk it.

“Well, since Mom’s not looking to rent—”

“Maybe I’ll give her a call.”

He wouldn’t, would he? She lifted the shopping bag still clutched in her hand and held it out to him. It was time to make her escape.

“I stopped off at the Warehouse and got you a few things. Breakfast cereal and a half gallon of milk. T-shirts for the girls to sleep in. Toothpaste. Toothbrushes. A comb. Razor.”

Eyes twinkling, Trey caressed Missy’s soft cheek with the back of his hand. “Noticed the girls need a shave, did you?”

“Right.” Heart pounding, she handed off the bag and dragged her gaze from the firm jaw that once again showed evidence of a dusky shadow. “Snow’s still dumping, so I need to get going. Bedding’s in the chest over there. Meg said she’d washed it up. Washer and dryer behind the louvered doors.” She glanced at him again, still avoiding Missy, who now leaned forward in his arms, hands outstretched toward her. “Do you need any help with anything?”

She hoped not. But as the hostess for his overnight stay, she had to at least offer.

“No, you’ve been more than generous.” He set the bag on a nearby upholstered chair, the expression in his eyes becoming serious. Searching.

Oh, no. “Well, I’ll see you later then. Sleep tight.”

She turned toward the door, but he stepped forward to catch the upper arm of her coat sleeve.

Not now. I need to apologize. Beg his forgiveness. But not tonight. Not now.

He tugged on her sleeve and she momentarily closed her eyes, willing her heart to quiet. Even ventured a prayer. Then took a quick breath and faced him again.

He released her arm but held her gaze. “I know you need to get going, but I’m sorry Meg put you on the spot—offering the apartment without asking you first.”

“Happy to help out.” Happy? What a liar she was.

He glanced down at the floor, then back at her as if uncertain how to proceed. “Look, Kara, for whatever reason, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot at Meg’s tonight. Maybe even last night in the parking lot at Kit’s.”

She clasped her still-gloved hands. “Guess we were both caught off guard.”

He shifted Missy in his arms and thrust out a hand, his gaze penetrating hers. “What do you say then? Truce?”

Chapter Five

Now. Apologize now.

But she hesitated, her jaw tightening as their gazes held. She nibbled her lower lip, then took a ragged breath.

A truce.

“I guess it all depends.” She lifted her trembling chin.

Trey withdrew his outstretched hand, his expression uncertain. “On what?”

She swallowed. Now. Say it now. “On if you can forgive me for not coming forward after the fire. For not—”

Trey held up a hand to halt her, then nodded to Mary who was now checking out the contents of Kara’s shopping bag only a few feet away.

She’d totally forgotten about the little girl’s presence.

“Honey—” he smiled at his niece “—why don’t you trot on into the bathroom and get ready for bed? Kara’s got something in the bag for you to wear to sleep in. I’ll be in to help you in a few minutes.”

Moving to crouch down by the child and shopping bag, Kara pulled out an adult-size, pink I Love Arizona T-shirt. She’d hoped the girls would like the shimmery trim and the satin ribbon threaded along the hem, a delicate bow tied off to the side. Judging by the delight on Mary’s face when she handed it to her, she’d guessed right.

Eyes wide, Mary glanced at her uncle, then smiled at Kara with that same slow smile Trey sported. “How old are you, Kara?”

“No, Mary.” Trey shook his head at his niece. “Don’t start with that again.”

The preschooler giggled and clasped the T-shirt to her chest, her gaze intent as she took in Kara’s hair, her face. Almost as if trying to memorize her every feature. “Thank you, Kara.”

“You’re welcome.”

Then without warning the black-haired girl threw her arms around Kara for a hug. A tight one. Smelling of baby shampoo.

A warm whisper tickled Kara’s ear. “I like you.”

Kara hugged her back. “I like you, too.”

Mary pulled away, then with another giggle and a conspiratorial look at Trey she trotted off to the bathroom.

Kara stood, shaken by the genuineness of the child’s outburst of affection. Kids. She’d never had a clue around them, but Mary didn’t seem to care. Maybe she should pass out pink T-shirts more often.

She caught Trey watching her. “I don’t mind telling her how old I am. It’s not like it’s a secret.”

“Take it from me, that’s not where she was going with her question.” He grimaced. “And don’t ask.”

She laughed at the chagrined look in his eyes. “Thanks for reminding me she was there a minute ago. I’d totally forgotten. She’s so quiet.”

“Sometimes.” A smile tugged at his lips as he patted Missy’s diapered bottom. She was barely keeping her eyes open now, her head nestling into the crook of his neck. “I’ve learned the hard way that unless I want my brother and sister-in-law to get a word-for-word replay of everything I say, I’d better be alert to a miniature undercover operative in my midst.”

The sound of water running in the bathroom sink echoed into the expanse of the room. Outside the Warehouse, wind buffeted. Ice crystals pecked at the windows. A floorboard creaked.

“Kara—”

“Trey—”

They both stopped. He nodded toward her. “Ladies first.”

Please God, get me through this.

“I’m sorry for not telling everyone that you were watching movies with me that night. That you were nowhere near the Logan property when it caught on fire. When I heard you’d been accused, arrested—” She took a ragged breath, voice quavering as her tear-filled eyes sought his. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Already did, darlin’,” his low voice assured her. “A long time ago.”

She stared at him. Not comprehending the kindness reflected in his eyes. Wasn’t this where he was supposed to pull out his cell phone and dial 911? Report her for withholding evidence in a criminal case?

“I knew you were scared.” His words washed over her in a reassuring wave. “Understood why you didn’t want anyone to know you were with me. Especially your mom.”

“I’m so sorry.” But not for the reasons he thought. There was so much more to the story of that night that he didn’t know. So much more that she couldn’t tell. “If I could go back, as I’ve done ten thousand times in my mind, I’d do it all over again. But right, this time. I hate myself for what you had to go through.”

“No need for that.” His eyes grew thoughtful as if mentally traveling back in time. “I admit juvenile detention wasn’t any fun. Or the unending community service projects. Or summer school so I could get my diploma. But I know now it could have been worse.”

She tilted her head, hanging on his every word. “How could it have been worse?”

“I could have been eighteen, not just shy of it,” he continued. “It could have been national forest service property instead of Duffy Logan’s, a forgiving church member. And my dad could have been the town drunk instead of a respected pastor.”

She clenched her fists in an effort to warm ice-cold fingers. To stop their trembling. “Why didn’t you rat me out? Make me come forward?”

He hadn’t attempted to contact her in the days after his arrest. Not once.

“I knew you were mad at me, you know, for—” He swallowed. Glanced away.

“Having the guts to say no?” Heat burned her cheeks as the memory flared. How he’d responded to her kisses. At first. Then the look on his face when she made that inappropriate proposal. How he’d stepped back. Held her at arms’ length. Apologized for getting carried away. Left without another word.

Don’t deny his assumption. Let him think you sold him out to retain driving privileges and peace with your mom. Sold him out for childish revenge.

“It’s all in the past.” Gentle eyes echoed his smile. “Let’s leave it there.”

Wonder filled her. “Thank you.”

Missy moved restlessly in his arms, and Kara took a step toward the door. She needed to get away. Come to terms with what had just transpired. At long last she’d apologized. And he’d forgiven. “I’d better let you get the girls to bed. But—”

There was one more thing she needed to know.

He shushed the little girl, who was beginning to fuss. “Yeah?”

“You never liked this town, even before the fire. Why did you come back?”

He took a breath. “Guess you might call it unfinished business.”

She shook her head, not following his train of thought.

“Injury sidelined me from the rodeo circuit. Then I was hired to relaunch the Logan facility. Planned to get in and get out.”

How was that old business? Restoring the place he’d been accused of torching?

“Reyna’s been dogging me to stay on. To settle down here. A few months ago I’d have said no way.” He gazed down at Missy cuddled in his arms. “But the place grows on you, you know? And with Missy and Mary… Well, I’ve decided to clear my name and call Canyon Springs home.”

Her heart jolted. “How are you going to do that? Nobody’s going to listen to me at this late date. Believe that I’m your alibi.”

“You’re right. And I won’t ask you to do that. This isn’t your battle. It’s mine.”

“Then how?”

“I have to prove myself to the community. That I’m a man of integrity. A man to be trusted.” He glanced down at the again-dozing Missy. “You see, Kara, you’re not the only person who didn’t come forward. Someone else knows I didn’t set that fire.”

Kara’s fists clenched in her pockets.

“One other person knows, because they started it. Left my cigarette lighter there. And I intend to find out who that person is.”

“He’s what?”

Kara clutched her mother’s arm as she helped her to the house’s back door after church on Sunday. She’d hardly slept at all last night. No wonder, after Trey’s bombshell. But surely she misunderstood what her mom said.

“You heard me, doll. Coming for lunch.” Her mother grasped the railing to steady herself. “His nieces, too, of course.”

Trey could be arriving any minute?

Last night he’d no more voiced his intention to find the real arsonist when Mary had trotted into the room to show off her T-shirt PJs. Avoiding Trey’s gaze, Kara had oohed and aahed to the little girl’s delight. Then made her escape.

But now this. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

Trey had forgiven her when he thought she’d just been a scared, stupid kid. One who immaturely reacted out of fear. Immature revenge. He had no idea she’d known this whole time who’d started the fire.

He’d hate her when he found out.

She held open the door to the enclosed porch for her mom, greeted by the tantalizing scent of a Crock-Pot pork roast and the lingering aroma of an apple pie baked earlier that morning. Mom knew that kind of thing wasn’t on her doctor-mandated diet, but she’d stubbornly called the Warehouse yesterday afternoon and insisted Kara pick up the meat and other ingredients for a few of her many specialties. Said she felt like having company, which had long been a custom on Sundays before her late autumn heart attack. She’d always liked to see who God led her way to invite from church or the neighborhood.

But why Trey of all people?

When they’d divested themselves of coats and boots, they moved on into the kitchen where her mother laid out five plates and handed her a fistful of silverware.

“Kind of surprised you’d invite Trey Kenton, Mom.” She kept her voice even as she arranged the utensils. Years ago Mom had expressly forbidden her to see him outside the church youth group activities. Not that she always obeyed. “I didn’t even know he was in town until Friday night.”

“Need to talk business with him.”

“What kind of business?”

“Looks like he’ll be renting the Warehouse apartment.”

Several spoons slipped from her fingers and clattered to the hardwood floor. She knelt to pick them up with a trembling hand. She tossed the utensils into the sink, then opened a drawer for replacements. “Don’t you think maybe we should have discussed this first?”

“Got to chattin’ with him after you went off with Meg this morning. Returned Missy’s mitten, by the way.” Mom winked. “He says he’s indebted to you. Missy had already lost another mitten on his watch this week. He’s down to the last spare pair and figured he’d be answering to Reyna if at least one of them didn’t turn up.”

She gave her mother a weak smile. She should have returned the mitten herself so Mom wouldn’t have had an excuse to strike up a conversation with him this morning.

“But, Mom, for years you haven’t wanted to deal with the headaches renters can bring.” She smoothed a turned-up corner of the tablecloth. “Don’t forget, I won’t be here much longer to oversee a rental. Run interference if things don’t work out.”

“Haven’t forgotten.” Mom opened a cabinet and pulled out a serving platter. “But he mentioned you’d let him and the girls stay there last night. One thing led to another and, well, it seemed like the right thing to do. Him being the pastor’s brother and all.”

“But if you’ve decided to rent, wouldn’t it be better to get the word out to your friends first? See if they know a nice, quiet, local girl who’d put up pretty curtains and keep the place neat and clean? I don’t want to sound biased, but most guys are notoriously bad housekeepers.”

Mom was okay with some clutter but a stickler for cleanliness, so throwing out that reminder was worth a shot.

Her mother shrugged. “He’s going to use it as an office, too, so I assume he’ll keep it presentable.”

“But Trey Kenton? Mom, don’t you remember how you—”

“Boys grow up.”

Now where had she heard that before?

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