Letter to Reader Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author Dedication 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 Copyright

A SPECIAL LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR

Dear Reader,

In The Best Little Joeville Christmas, part of my Montana Malones series, you’ll share in the love story of characters you met in the first book, A Marriage Made in Joeville (6/97 SD), Shane Malone and Jenny Moon. If these characters seem real to you, it’s because they originated from a very real place in my life, since issues of adoption, control and spirituality are all very personal to me.

This holiday season, my hope is that we will all take time to reflect on what we have been blessed with and give thanks. And in the process, I hope we all find peace of mind, more tolerance for each other’s differences and most of all...love.

Happy holidays, dear reader. I hope you enjoy The Best Little Joeville Christmas, and I would love to hear from you.

Write to me c/o 4217 Highland Road

#252 Waterford, MI 48328.

Please include #10 SASE.

Dear Reader,

Happy Holidays to all of you from the staff of Silhouette Desire! Our celebration of Desire’s fifteenth anniversary continues, and to kick off this holiday season, we have a wonderful new book from Dixie Browning called Look What the Stork Brought. Dixie, who is truly a Desire star, has written over sixty titles for Silhouette.

Next up, The Surprise Christmas Bride by Maureen Child. If you like stories chock-full of love and laughter, this is the book for you. And Anne Eames continues her MONTANA MALONES miniseries with The Best Little Joeville Christmas.

The month is completed with more Christmas treats: A Husband in Her Stocking by Christine Pacheco;

I Married a Prince by Kathryn Jensen and Santa Cowboy by Barbara McMahon.

I hope you all enjoy your holidays, and hope that Silhouette Desire will add to the warmth of the season. So enjoy the very best in romance from Desire!

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

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

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

The Best Little Joeville Christmas

Anne Eames

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANNE EAMES

This is Anne’s fifth novel for Desire. Her books have appeared on the USA Today bestseller list, and prior to publishing, she was a Golden Heart finalist and Maggie winner. Anne and her husband, Bill, live in southeastern Michigan.

Look for the next book in The Montana Malones series, Last of the Joeville Lovers, coming in May 1998.

With special thanks to the kind people of Crow Agency

who gave so freely of their time—especially the

Real Bird Family; to Haley Nicole Garthe, whose arrival

was timed perfectly; to Linda Pastor, for “delivering”

the details; and most of all, to my research

assistant and best friend, Bill.

One

Hardly a day had passed when Jenny Moon didn’t wonder why she’d ever left Montana and the Malone ranch. It had been eighteen months since she’d returned to Detroit, leaving behind more than her best friend, Savannah, but the mountains, streams and big skies that she had come to love, at a time in her life when she had tried hard not to love anything...or anyone.

Especially a man as dark and brooding as Shane Malone.

She’d been successful in that area. Oh, maybe twinges of lust had distracted her during her first visit, but that had been remedied by returning to her suburban Birmingham job and her countless persnickety customers, each and every one of them demanding a new culinary work of art, many less interested in the palate than presentation, since most ate like birds anyway.

Her job had been a handy excuse to leave at the time, but now, as the plane taxied into Bozeman airport, she wondered if she hadn’t been running away from something...or someone....

She closed her eyes, mentally shaking off the ridiculous notion. No, this had nothing to do with that impossible man. The impending holidays were making her feel melancholy, that’s all.

She was returning to spend time with Savannah; it was as simple as that, she told herself as she deplaned. Again the word liar echoed in her subconscious and her pulse quickened from just thinking of the man waiting ahead.

She cleared the jetway and scanned the small gate area, instantly spotting Shane leaning agamst a post in the same manner he had the first time she’d met him. Then, like now, his ankles and arms were crossed and his dark brown eyes bored into her from beneath the low rim of his Stetson. He didn’t move, but waited for her to come to him, a fact that immediately annoyed her.

She hitched her carry-on higher on her shoulder, heaved a disgusted sigh and strode over.

“It took you long enough,” he said, his posture unchanged.

She dropped her bag at his feet and thrust her hands on her hips. “There’s no direct flight. I had to change planes in Minneapolis and—”

He picked up her bag and started walking. “I meant to come back.”

In spite of herself, she checked the fit of his jeans before catching up to him. “Who said I’d ever come back?”

He looked askance at her and kept walking to the baggage claim area. It was as though she’d never left. He was demanding something of her already, merely with his silent looks. Well, he wasn’t going to get it—whatever it was. She would control this situation if it killed her.

“Savannah didn’t come with you?”

“She didn’t feel too good.”

Jenny tugged at his arm, making him turn her way. “What’s wrong?” He looked at her hand on his sleeve and she dropped it.

“She’s pregnant.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “I know that.” She’d forgotten what a man-of-few-words he was. This pulling teeth business was already getting on her nerves. “Is that all that’s wrong?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

She spotted her suitcase on the conveyor and reached for it. Shane took it from her. “Is this it?”

“Yes.” She met his dark stare with one of her own.

“I’ll bring the car around.” He headed out the door, not waiting for her argument.

She could carry her own bag and she could damn well walk to the car. She approached the door and was about to call after him when a gust of arctic air left her shivering in her light woolen jacket.

Well, okay. He could get the car.

As the crowd around her thinned, she hugged herself and shuffled her feet to keep warm. She wasn’t going to let this cowboy get to her. No siree. She had the rest of November and all of December to enjoy the holidays with Savannah and help her prepare for the baby. If her friend was up to it, maybe they could drive over to Bozeman for some Christmas shopping. She looked at the snow that had been plowed from the curb and guessed it was more than ten feet tall. She smiled. A snowball fight or building a snowman might be fun, too.

There was a long blast from a horn and she saw Shane glaring at her from behind the wheel of his Explorer.

She pulled herself from her reverie and exhaled a long breath. “And bah, humbug to you, too, Shane Malone.” In spite of the cold, she took her time covering the short distance to the passenger side, then let herself in.

Great. With these roads it would take a couple of hours to reach the ranch. Just what she needed. Alone time with this Indian-loving strong silent type. She crossed her arms and spoke to the windshield.

“So...you still living with that old Indian in the cabin behind the stables?”

He shot her another hot glare, then returned his attention to the snow-covered highway.

“So...you still as bigoted as you were when you left here?”

Ohhh...kayyy. If this was how it was going to be, she would listen to the radio and ignore him. He, and everyone else at the ranch, knew about her absentee Crow father. Why would Shane think she’d changed?

She punched the power button and a tape began to play. The eerie sounds of an Indian flute filtered through the speakers, leaving her with the strange sensation that a loin-clothed brave would be sitting on his pony at the top of the next rise. There was a winding pass up ahead—the perfect spot for an ambush. She chuckled under her breath and imagined the wagons circling, which entertained her for the next several miles. Finally she ejected the tape and started fiddling with the dial, passing over one country-and-western station after another.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” She punched the power off and watched the passing scenery.

In the headlights, moonlight bounced off the surface of the snow, sending thousands of tiny crystals dancing along the pristine surface. Miniature Christmas lights adorned a few pines in front of an occasional home. So unlike the summer fields of wildflowers she’d remembered, but no less beautiful. She had to admit she’d missed this place and ranch living—a place where cooking was necessary to fuel the long days on the range and originality played second fiddle to quantity.

She stole a sideways glance at Shane and saw his wrist draped over the steering wheel, his jaw muscles tight, and she wondered what he’d been up to since she’d left, whether he’d found anyone....

She straightened in her seat, chastising herself for such a stupid, irrelevant thought. What difference did it make? Before long she would be back in Michigan and he would be back to—to whatever. It didn’t matter.

Dark shadows in the distance turned into ragged snow-covered mountains as they approached one cluster after another, the silence inside stretching unmercifully.

Then out of the blue, Shane asked, “Still cooking?”

“Does a bear—?” She tucked a leg under her and turned toward him, noticing his chiseled features silhouetted against the white landscape. Maybe it was time to change her attitude as well as her tone. A little chitchat wouldn’t hurt. At the very least, it would help pass the time. “Yes, I’m still catering, if that’s what you mean. And I took up the study of herbs recently. Learned some interesting stuff...not just for cooking, but health and other applications, too.”

“Hmm.”

“For example, did you know that if you rub raw garlic on a mosquito bite it will stop itching?”

“Yep. But use too much and it comes out on your breath.”

“Now, how would you know that?”

“From Buck. American Indians have always used things from the earth.” He flashed her a derisive smile and she sucked the roof of her mouth with her tongue. “If you’re interested in herbs, there’s a lot you could learn from Buck.”

Yeah, right. That would be a cold day in hell.

Back to the same old stuff. Why did Indians have to permeate their every conversation? You would think he was one!

She looked back at him with a quizzical frown. His hair was nearly black, high cheekbones, strong angles. Had he lived so long with Buck that he’d actually started to take on the look? She shrugged and turned back to the window.

Who cared? If he wanted to love Indians, that was his business. Maybe if he had an Indian father who deserted him before he was born, he would understand how she felt. But he didn’t. His father was Max Malone—rich surgeon and successful rancher. And one hell of a nice guy. So how would Shane, or any of them, know how she felt? How could they possibly understand?

Only her mother had. Now she was gone.

The intervening months since Mom’s fatal heart attack had dulled the shock and pain, but as the holidays drew nearer, the emptiness had returned.

The sad memory of her mother brought her full circle. This was why she’d come back to Montana. If she’d stayed home, it would have been her first Christmas alone. Always there had been Mom, and for a dozen holidays—all but the last one—there had been Savannah, too, sharing their cozy suburban Detroit apartment Jenny knew Savannah’s marriage to Shane’s brother was what her best friend had always wanted, yet the fact that she would never again live in Michigan had left a bigger hole in Jenny’s life than even she had expected.

“It’s slow going tonight. If you want to lay back and sleep, I’ll wake you when we get there.”

She glanced at him through a sheen of moisture and blinked hard. “Good idea,” she said, ready for any distraction.

She found the handle, gave it a tug and reclined the bucket seat, then breathed deeply through her nose. He smelled of soap and aftershave...and something far more dangerous. She turned her face to the window, closed her eyes and tried to nap, but the scent of him, his mere nearness, made sleep impossible.

Maybe coming here had been a mistake—especially this time of year, when emotions ran deep and a sense of hope and love abounded. Normally she would view the season through the eyes of an amused cynic, but that uncanny sixth sense of hers said this year might be different. She folded her arms and shivered. If that were the case, how would she keep her distance from this man beside her? Worse yet, did she even want to?

He was acting like a son of a bitch and he knew it. What was it about this woman that got under his skin so? He wanted to think it was her attitude about her roots, but he knew it was something more.

He glanced over at her thigh-hugging jeans and gritted his teeth. The physical reaction he’d had the last time he’d seen her was back with a vengeance. He forced his gaze to the snow-slick highway, trying his damnedest to forget the memories they’d made together...horseback rides over foothills, the cattle drive just before she’d left when he’d spent three long nights watching the campfire reflected in her dark brown eyes, listening to the soft sounds of her sleep as she snuggled in her bedroll, her husky morning voice as she joked with the cowboys over breakfast....

But the images wouldn’t go away.

This is stupid, guy. He tightened his grip on the wheel. She’ll leave again as she did before. It would be foolhardy to get involved. He’d allowed himself to care a little the last time and look where that had left him.

Frustrated and alone.

He blew out a pent-up breath. Somehow, someway, he would keep his distance. Besides, he had to remember how she felt about Buck. He had hoped she might have mellowed with time, softened her inflexible attitude about a people he loved and respected. Obviously, he’d been wrong. She sounded as angry as the day she’d left. Exactly why was that?

He looked down at her one more time, then drove on.

Why did she hate an entire race? In a flash he imagined the two of them sitting in front of a decorated tree, her secrets tumbling out as he held her....

No! Not a good idea. He sat taller in his seat. An intimate conversation with Jenny Moon was the last thing he needed.

But with each passing mile, her rosy perfume wrapped around him, tugging at his resolve, reminding him of other needs—need for a family as his younger brother Ryder had found with Savannah and Billy, need of a good woman to share his hopes and dreams, a woman to hold under the mistletoe and kiss for more reasons than tradition.

He passed another ranch with Christmas lights strung around the windows and something tugged at his heartstrings. Maybe it was the hohdays that had turned his mind to mush. Whatever it was, for the first time in thirty-three years, none of it—not Buck, his brothers, Dad, the miles of Malone ranch, the horses—none of it seemed enough.

He could lie to himself all he wanted, but his gut told him something fundamental was missing. And his gut was never wrong.

A gust of wind blew a sheet of snow over the windows and Shane pumped gently on the brakes. “Better sit up and tighten your seat belt.”

Jenny jerked into action next to him as he flicked on the windshield wipers, hoping to find the highway in front of him, but another gust of white blanketed the front end of the Explorer. He pumped harder on the pedal, feeling gravel instead of highway beneath them. They were nearly stopped when he felt the downward slide followed by a solid thunk as the front end burrowed into the embankment. He lunged against his seat belt and saw Jenny do the same. “Are you okay?”

She stared at him with those big brown doe eyes and his heart raced.

“Is it your neck? Your chest?” He unbuckled himself and faced her.

She raised her chin and looked him in the eye. “Was this your first time driving on this stuff or were you just trying to scare the hell out of me?”

He let out a relieved breath and smiled. “Welcome back, Jenny Moon.”

“I’m glad you find this amusing, but how are we going to get out of here.”

He heard the fear in her voice. Without analyzing the wisdom of his actions, he reached over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Now don’t you worry your pretty little head over it. I’ve gotten myself out of far worse scrapes than this one and—”

She stiff-armed him and thrust him away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I was just trying to comfort you.” Anger danced from her slitted gaze and he couldn’t resist. “Or were you expecting something more?” He grabbed her wrist and saved his face the sting of her palm.

“Y-you arrogant, self-absorbed cowboy.”

He held up both hands and scooted back behind the wheel, his eyes never leaving hers. In spite of her bravado, he noticed she was shaking under her folded arms. “There’s a blanket in the back if you want it.” She didn’t budge so he reached behind him, grabbed it off the seat and deposited it between them. With one hand on the steering wheel, he felt under the seat and found the cellular phone.

“You sure you know how to use one of those things?”

He swallowed another smart-assed response and punched in the preprogrammed number for the ranch. It rang three times before Ryder answered.

“Sorry, bro. Did I wake you up?”

“Are you kidding? Savannah won’t go to bed till Jenny gets here. Are you close?”

“Not really. The roads are getting worse and... well...we’re in a ditch right now.”

“Give me some directions and—”

“Nan. I got a shovel and sand in the back. I can be out of here before you could find us. Just wanted to tell you it might be a couple hours yet.”

There was a pause and he thought they may have lost the connection, then Ryder said. “Savannah’s tugging at my arm. Better put Jenny on the line.”

Shane handed over the receiver. “It’s for you.” He smiled again and she rolled her eyes as she grabbed the instrument.

“Hello?”

“Jenny! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Shane just ran us off the highway, that’s all.” She scowled at him and turned away. “Men drivers...you know.”

He tapped on the steering wheel and listened another moment before deciding it was time to start digging them out. He flung open the door and jumped out, walking to the front and then the tailgate, assessing the situation. The front wheels were embedded in snow, but the back end was clear. With some work, it should be easy to back out. He opened the hatch to get his gear and heard Jenny still talking to Savannah.

He called up to her. “Might want to save the battery...in case we need it later.”

She didn’t turn around or acknowledge him, but he heard her wrapping up the conversation. “We’ll call back if we have a problem. I promise. But you have to promise me you’ll go to bed.” She paused, then said. “Good. Just crawl in with me in the morning whenever you get moving. We’ll catch up then.”

Jenny fell silent and he thought she was done, then he heard her whisper into the phone. “I love you, too, Savannah. See you in the morning.”

He grabbed the shovel and sand and shut the gate before more cold air could flood the interior.

Just crawl in with me in the morning...

He’d like to just crawl in.... Stupid thought.

He buried the shovel into the snow and went to work, trying to concentrate on the job at hand. But something else bothered him about Jenny’s last words to Savannah. Why did she have to whisper she loved her? It was as though she were embarrassed to own such feelings...even for her best friend. He’d known plenty of men who acted this way, but never a woman.

Finally, he threw sand beneath the wheels and walked back. Jenny was staring out the front window, the blanket tucked under her chin. She looked so small and vulnerable. Her words were always tough, but he would bet his bottom dollar that a warm and loving heart beat beneath that thick facade. A passionate one, too. And whether it was wise or not, he also knew he would be testing her limits before she could run away a second time.

Two

“Yikes!” Jenny pulled her hand away from Savannah’s belly. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

Savannah laughed and rubbed the bulge on her right side. “Nah. It’s getting harder to find a comfortable position for sleep, but it doesn’t hurt.”

Jenny stared at the traveling bump. “What is that, anyway?”

“I think it’s a knee or foot...too small for the head or butt.”

Jenny shivered and snuggled deeper under the comforter. “It reminds me of an alien movie...where some creature has invaded somebody’s body.”

Savannah rolled on her side and continued stroking her belly. “You just wait till it’s your turn. You won’t feel like that at all. I love feeling her move, it’s—”

“Her? Do you know for sure?”

“We could...from the ultrasound...but we decided we wanted to be surprised. I just call it her. We wouldn’t care either way, but with Billy—”

“Ahh, yes, Billy.” She faced her friend and propped her head on an elbow. “How’s he doing? And what does he think about the baby?”

“He gave us a little scare last summer. When we told him he seemed okay with it...maybe a little quiet. But then the next day we couldn’t find him anywhere.”

“He ran away?”

“Not exactly. We found him curled up on top of Maddy’s grave. In all our excitement, we forgot it was the anniversary of his mother’s death. It may take a while, but I hope he knows the baby won’t change how we feel about him.” Savannah rolled onto her back again and locked her hands behind her head. “Still, it might be easier if we had a girl. Billy and Ryder have such a special bond. Sometimes I forget Ryder isn’t his real dad.”

A sweet smile came over her face and Jenny looked away. She was happy her friend had found such a full life—a husband she adored, an adopted son, a baby on the way, a family and environment that provided her with love and warmth and a sense of belonging. Jenny closed her eyes and half listened to her friend’s litany of little family moments as the area around her heart constricted. She should be happy for Savannah...and she was...in part. But another part of her felt jealous and more alone than she had ever felt. Savannah had moved on with her life since leaving Detroit and the cozy little apartment they had once shared. Now she told all her secrets and hopes and fears to Ryder, as well she should....

“—so we left him in the bottom of the well to drown,” Savannah said, and stopped talking.

“Uh-huh.”

“Jenny Moon...you haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said.”

There was a loud knock on the door and they both turned toward it.

“Room service. You two decent in there?”

“It’s Shane,” Jenny whispered, fussing with her uncombed hair.

“I know,” Savannah whispered back and started giggling. “You look fine.” She slapped at Jenny’s hands and called out, “Come on in.”

Shane pushed the door open with his back, carrying a full tray in front of him. “Hannah said this one’s on her, but that you two better not get spoiled. Lots to do for Thursday’s feast.” He set the tray sideways between them and started to leave.

“Want to join us?” Savannah asked. “Looks like there’s plenty.”

“I think I’ll leave you two alone with your girl talk.” He smiled politely as he stepped backward and left the room, closing the door between them.

Jenny sat cross-legged under the covers and studied the contents of the tray, not commenting on Shane’s surprise visit. “Umm...look at this! Belgian waffles and strawberries. Hannah is such a dear. I can’t wait to go down and see her.”

Savannah attacked one of the waffles. “You can pretend you’re not interested all you want, Jenny, but I saw the way you looked at Shane when you were here last year. Don’t tell me you aren’t attracted to him.” She bobbed her eyebrows a couple of times before stabbing more waffle.

Jenny pictured his stubbled chin and for a second she let herself imagine how it would feel against her cheek. Then she washed down her waffle with some black coffee and met Savannah’s questioning stare. “Look, I know you mean well, girlfriend, but don’t go getting any ideas about an instant replay of you and Ryder. Shane and I are two totally different people.” She pointed her empty fork at her friend and punctuated the air with it. “It isn’t gonna happen. I’m here to enjoy the holidays with my best friend and then I’m back to Michigan where I belong.” She held Savannah’s gaze a moment and could see the disappointment before she looked away.

What she said was true, wasn’t it? Michigan had always been her home. But when was the last time she’d been truly happy there? Especially since her mother’s death and Savannah’s move to this...this paradise. She wanted to think of it as a godforsaken place, but it didn’t ring true. Every time she thought of Montana it was a magical portrait, unspoiled by man, still populated by magnificent beasts—Shane not the least of them. If only she had Savannah’s gentle and trusting heart....

“Where did you go?” Savannah sipped her coffee and eyed her over the rim of the china cup.

Jenny averted her gaze. “Just enjoying the moment... being here with you.”

“I meant to ask you before, but how did you manage so much time off around the holidays? I would have thought you’d be swamped with parties.”

“We are, but there’s loads of college kids looking for holiday jobs. Besides, I’ve been working extra hours and freezing like mad. And I haven’t taken a day’s vacation since I left here.” She sipped more coffee and added, “The boss wasn’t exactly thrilled, but I didn’t give him much choice.” He could have asked her to leave permanently—an idea that had crossed her mind, anyway—but he hadn’t.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get back for your mom’s funeral. The doctor thought it best I didn’t fly—”

Jenny reached out and touched Savannah’s hand. “Not another word. I totally understand.”

“You must really miss her.” Savannah squeezed Jenny’s fingers.

Did she? A wave of guilt passed through her. Of course she did. Sometimes. But in truth, most of the time she felt relieved. “You know what a bitter woman Mom was.” Savannah nodded, still holding onto Jenny’s hand. “She spent her whole life being angry with my father for deserting us. I wish she could have found some happiness before—” She heard the catch in her voice and let the words die on her lips. Savannah knew the story. There was no need to explain. And it was for this reason she had come to Montana—a friend who knew her like no other, who cared. There was a soft tap on the door and Jenny turned toward it, swiping at the moisture that teetered on her lower lashes.

“It’s Billy,” the timid voice said. “Can I come in?”

“You sure can,” Jenny called out, glad for the distraction.

Billy opened the door a crack and popped his head in, shyly assessing the situation.

Jenny turned to Savannah. “Who’s that handsome young man with all the pearly white teeth?” She winked and Billy stepped inside, moving slowly toward the foot of the bed.

Jenny opened her arms wide. “Come over here and give me a big ol’ bear hug.”

His grin spread from ear to ear as he ran the rest of the way. “I’m so glad you came back, Jenny Moon.”

She held him tight and rocked him side to side. “I’m so glad I came back, too, Billy Malone.” Then she set him away from her and studied him from head to toe. “You must have grown a foot since I was here.” She looked at his tousled blond hair that was so much like his mother’s, and she ached again for the loss this young boy must have felt eighteen months ago—a loss she knew he’d always feel. “And look at those teeth. Lucky you. No braces for those perfect choppers.”

He laughed and sat down on the side of the bed.

“Billy?” Savannah eyed him from the side of her face. “Did you miss your bus again?”

“No, ma’am. The furnace is busted at school so we got a longer holiday. Ain’t that great?”

“Isn’t it.”

“Yep. I think it is.” He looked from one to the other, then giggled, enjoying his own joke. “I gotta go help Dad snowplow.” He sprang off the bed with youthful enthusiasm and then stopped halfway out the door. “Wanna make a snowman with me later, Jenny?”

“It’s a date,” she said with a smile.

He started to blush and quickly shut the door between them. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jenny asked, “Does he talk much about Maddy?”

Savannah wiped whipped cream from her mouth with a napkin and looked suddenly quite serious. “He says a prayer for her every night at bedtime, but other than that he never mentions her name.”

“Poor little guy.”

“Sometimes Ryder takes him over to the Purple Palace for lunch. The same girls are still working the place since Maddy left them the business. He loves seeing them all and they’re so good to him, but he’s too smart for his own good. He has a pretty good idea what kind of monkey business goes on there, so we’ve limited his visits.” Savannah looked down at her bulging belly, then stroked it lovingly.

“As hard as we try to assure him that this is now his home and that he has a special place in our family, I think he still worries how this baby might change things for him. He idolizes Ryder so. I think the idea of sharing him might be scary.”

“But he’ll see in time that his place is secure.” Jenny rubbed her friend’s arm. “His concerns are only natural, don’t you think?”

Savannah nodded her head slowly. “I suppose.”

Shane had checked on a sick foal in the stables, gone back to the cabin and shaved, and was now standing in the kitchen making small talk with Hannah, wondering if it were a mistake lurking around for another glimpse of that troublesome woman upstairs.

Hannah took a loaf of bread from the oven and glanced up at him. “If yer hangin’ round fer some of this here bread, ya gotta long wait till it cools off.” She let her gaze dart between him and the task in front of her. “Or might there be a tother reason yer taking up my counter space, heh?” She wiped her hands on her apron, then stood with her hands on her hips waiting for him to deny the obvious.

The two women bounding down the back stairs to the kitchen saved him from sparring with the all-too-wise housekeeper.

Jenny set the empty tray on the counter, then flew into Hannah’s embrace. The old woman looked embarrassed but didn’t push her away, thumping her heartily on the back instead. “Good golly, girl. Ya ain’t nothing but skin and bones. How do ya manage to cook so good and weigh so little?” She stepped back, threw her arms out to her sides and laughed. “Looka me. Obvious I like m‘own cookin’, wouldn’t ya say?” She let out a husky chortle, then turned back to her bread. “So, ya gonna help me with Thanksgivin’ dinner, ain’t ya?”

Shane enjoyed the exchange and watched Jenny lean her elbows on the chopping block and smile across at Hannah. “Now what do you think?” There was a cockeyed grin on the older woman’s face. “It would be pretty hard to keep me out of here, but thanks for the invitation just the same. What can I do to help today?”

Hannah waved her hand then brushed a loose gray hair behind her ear. “Not a thing. I never start on Tuesday, so go have some fun while ya kin. Tomorrow we’ll be busier than flies on cow flops.”

Jenny laughed and turned to Savannah who was nodding her head toward Shane, her light brown ponytail swinging like a pendulum behind her

Behind them Shane said, “I got some free time if you’re interested in taking out a couple horses.”

Savannah offered a quick wink of encouragement and Jenny turned to face him. She folded her arms and looked as though she were weighing her options, but in truth he knew she wanted to go. Memories of previous rides rushed back to him, good times that he knew she hadn’t forgotten, either.

“Won’t we freeze our butts off? I don’t think I have the right clothes—”

Savannah moved alongside her friend. “I do.” She wrapped an arm around Jenny’s waist and squeezed hard. “So I guess it’s all settled. Gee, wish I could go with you but—” She withdrew her arm and ran both hands over her rounded middle. “I got some work to do in Max’s office.” She waddled out of the room and called over her shoulder. “Have a good time, you two.”

Shane shuffled his feet on the hardwood floor and hooked his thumbs into his back pockets. “If you don’t want to—”

She lifted her chin. “Who says I don’t want to?”

He waited for a smile or some sign of genuine interest, but all he saw was a mask, that old tough facade he’d seen so often. Her brown eyes met his and didn’t blink. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll meet you in the stable. How long will it take you to get ready?”

“See ya in ten,” she said curtly, then headed down the hall without a backward glance.

What was it going to take to thaw this woman, anyway? And why was he even trying? He started for the door, shaking his head and forgetting about Hannah.

“She’ll come around, son. Don’t let that look fool ya.”

With his hand on the doorknob he looked back at the woman who probably knew him better than any other. Her head was down but she was smiling in that knowing way of hers as she kneaded more dough.

“I’ll be back for some of that bread later. Smells great.”

“Uh-huh.” She kept smiling and kneading as he let himself out.

Before he could reach the stable, Ryder’s pickup truck crunched snow in the driveway and rolled to a stop. Billy darted from the passenger side.

“Isn’t it great, Uncle Shane?” he asked, his breath making small white clouds near his rosy cheeks.

“Isn’t what great, Billy?”

“You know...having Jenny here for the holidays.”

Ryder stepped out and rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder, one eyebrow cocked and a grin from ear to ear. Shane looked from one to the other. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the pair were part of some grand conspiracy. “Yeah. It’s great,” he said finally, forcing an edge of indifference into his voice. He glanced up the road and back. “Done with the plowing already?”

Ryder nudged Billy toward the back door. He didn’t need a second invitation to get out of the cold. “Josh rousted a few volunteers from the bunkhouse at the crack of dawn. They’d cut a path to the farmhouse before we got out here.”

“So how’s little brother doing up there?”

“The new interior partitions are all done and some of the drywall. He even has a bed set up and the fridge stocked. We may not see him for days.”

Shane laughed and started for the stable. “He’ll be back before Jenny’s Thanksgiving dinner. Count on it.”

Ryder followed him from the tack room to the horses as he started saddling a pair. “Speaking of Jenny—”

Shane spun on his heel, about to tell Ryder there were enough matchmakers lurking around, when Jenny opened the large double doors behind him.

Ryder stole a quick peek then smiled and muttered under his breath, “That answers one question. Have a good time.”

“Ryder!” Jenny flew into Ryder’s arms and he spun her around, lifting her booted feet from the ground. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Ryder set her down, his hands lingering on her narrow shoulders. “Ditto, sweetheart. You can’t imagine how excited my wife’s been, waiting for this time.”

“Me, too.”

“Well, sorry to run off, but I promised Billy I’d help him with some science project for school.” He looked back at Shane and winked, then shut the stable doors behind him.

Shane busied himself buckling straps, averting his eyes, trying to ignore the quickening of his pulse as she walked toward him. But soon the sweet smell of warm hay and dung were replaced with the scent of a woman who made him too nervous for his own good. The chestnut gelding he was saddling for her had a different reaction. He whinnied and put his muzzle forward for her to rub, possibly remembering her from before or simply interested in the butter-mint she held in her open palm. He took it greedily and she stroked his neck.

“How you doing, boy. You remember me? Hmm?”

Shane watched and admired her ease. For a city slicker, she did well with horses. If she was afraid of them, they would know. For a second he wondered if she sensed how uncomfortable he was with her. With more poise than he felt he said, “Ready to go?”

She tilted her hooded face to him, mischief dancing in her dark brown eyes. “Don’t I look ready?”

He could see puffs of her breath in the air between them, reminding him that everything wasn’t as warm as the layer of skin beneath his flannel shirt and down-filled jacket. He handed her the reins of her gelding, then walked two stalls over to his own quarter horse.

Once outside the stable, they mounted and he braved a look at her. “You sure you’re up to this?”

She stared at his face, no hint of a smile left on her lips or eyes. Then she said, “I don’t know. Time will tell, I guess.”

There was little doubt in his mind that she was no longer referring to their ride. With a quick look up the road, he dug in his heels and led the way.

Jenny rode past the corral and up the gentle incline, following the diagonal tracks in the otherwise pristine patch of new snow, a little surprised that their horses had left the groomed trail for a more difficult terrain. She stopped alongside Shane at the crest of the first hill and, after catching her breath, relaxed in the saddle and took in the endless horizon. The gelding lowered its head and pawed at the pillows of white beneath his feet, then sniffed so hard that it let out a loud sneeze, which made Jenny laugh.

“That’s better,” Shane said, and she glanced over at him, pretending not to understand, but the meaning wasn’t lost on her. She’d been combative with him ever since he had met her plane. And for what reason? To keep him at arm’s length? There had to be an easier way. It was a beautiful day and it would be a shame not to enjoy it. Besides, how much trouble could they get into out here, bundled up like a couple of Eskimos?

She stroked the horse’s mane and smiled, looking out at the valley and miles of butte and snowdrifted ridges, which almost blinded her with its whiteness. She squinted at the biggest blue sky she’d ever seen and remembered why she had loved this place so. The vastness of it all reduced her problems to less than a speck of dust on a freshly painted wall. At home her loneliness seemed to consume her, yet out here, where she could see the mountains meet the sky a hundred miles away, she felt at peace, one with her surroundings. Even if Shane had stayed behind this morning, she knew she would not have felt lonely here.

Shane reined in his horse and turned around, moving face-to-face beside her. “Warm enough?” His breath burst from his lips as he eyed her.

If she’d been cold before, the temperature inside her quilted parka rose by degrees with the feel of his breath on her cheeks. She watched his sure fingers untie the wool scarf at her neck. “What are you doing?”

His eyes met hers and lingered there before glancing down at her lips. She licked them involuntarily, then kicked herself mentally for doing so.

“Your skin’s not as weathered as mine. Frostbite’s nothing to fool with out here.” He started to turn the scarf around and knot it behind her head, but then he lowered it and gazed deep into her eyes, in that haunting way of his that left her feeling naked and without secrets. “Do you think we could call a truce while you’re here?” he asked finally.

“I didn’t know we were at war,” she snapped, seeing the disappointment in his eyes. He started to turn away but she grabbed his jacket and met his eyes evenly this time. “Okay. Truce?”

A slow smile reached his eyes and she felt a trickle of sweat trail down from between her breasts.

“Want to see Josh’s farmhouse? It’s about a fifteen-minute ride if we cut over the ridge.” He pointed east and she saw nothing but foothills and snow-laden pines.

“I’d love to,” she said. He moved closer and reached for her scarf, his eyes hesitating again on her lips. He shifted in his saddle and inched closer. Those slow hands she had always admired circled her and Jenny closed her eyes. Then she felt the tug of the knot at the back of her head and a moment later, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath through the wool, he hesitated, then raised the scarf over her nose.

“There. That ought to do the trick.” There was a hint in his smile that said he knew what she was thinking, yet he didn’t give voice to his thoughts, but simply turned his horse and loped toward the ridge.

So much fur the kiss, she thought, and smiled hehind the cover of the scarf. He thought he was so clever. Huh! She’d seen it in his eyes. There was little doubt what was on his mind. And there was little doubt something would happen before long.

Jenny nudged her horse and followed Shane’s tracks, marveling at the beauty around her. Millions of tiny diamondlike flakes winked at the brilliant sun, keeping her company till she reached her destination. Once there, evergreens cast long ink-blot shadows, conjuring all sorts of images. She caught up to Shane and looked down at the stream below. A slow trickle was making its way over fallen timbers and shiny rocks of all sizes. She looked up and saw a puff of smoke coming from a fieldstone chimney a couple of miles away. It rose above an old farmhouse with a large covered front porch. A stake truck, parked alongside, was covered with a large gray tarp, a few two-by-fours jutting out the end.

“Is that Josh’s place?” Even from a distance it appeared warm and cozy, nestled among pines and bare-branched aspens that wound their way further up the foothills of the MoJoes, the majestic pair of mountains that overlooked Joeville, the area Shane’s great grandfather, Joe Malone, had laid claim to over a hundred years ago. For miles below there was level land and Jenny could already imagine fields of tall golden wheat waving in the wind as large combines cut a wide swath.

“Yep. It’s all Josh’s now. Used to be my great-grandparent’s place when they first moved west. Then Granddad built the ranch and this has been abandoned ever since. When Dad tripled our living quarters and added all the outbuildings, it didn’t look like anyone would ever live up here again.”

“I think it’s perfectly charming. I can see why Josh is so excited.”

“Yeah, well, wish we could say the same for Dad. He still holds fast to the old ways—that pure ranchers don’t farm. And now that Josh has taken up flying so he can crop dust when the time comes—” Shane repositioned his wide-brimmed bat and chuckled “—well, let’s just say there’s a little tension between Josh and Dad.”

Jenny laughed. “You’re a fine one to criticize Max for being set in his ways. When was the last time you changed?”

Shane sailed but his expression grew more serious. “What about you?”

Jenny stopped laughing. “What do you mean ‘What about me?’”

“Well, for example, why don’t you want to talk to Buck...learn more about those herbs you’re so interested in?”

She rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. Indians! Why do we always end up talking about Indians?”

His smile disappeared, his brown eyes turning nearly black. “Buck is one person, not a whole race. Besides, he’s like family to me. He’s a good and wise man who knows much about the things of the earth, who could teach—”

“Look, Shane—” She started to argue her point, but thought better of it. What difference did it make if he understood her attitude? She wasn’t going to change it, and that was that. “I promised Billy I’d help him build a snowman. Maybe we should head back.” She turned her horse away from him and avoided his eyes. She knew what she would see and feeling guilty was not on her agenda today.

Silently he turned and followed, eventually riding alongside her the rest of the way. The beauty she had witnessed on the way out was lost on her now, an inner turmoil dogging her every thought. She didn’t want to spar with Shane, but she could never share his love of Indians, either. Why couldn’t he try to understand and just let it go?

Three

As Hannah had promised, Wednesday was a busy day in the kitchen. In between serving the usual three meals, Jenny and Hannah prepared for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner.

After supper Jenny covered her cranberry gelatin mold and found the last available space in the refrigerator, while Hannah wrestled with the thirty-pound turkey, finding another feather to pluck.

“There. Think I got ’em all. Ya sure we cain’t stuff it tonight? I always have, ya know.” Hannah reached for the large box of foil.

“I know a lot of people do, but it’s much safer to wait till just before we put it in the oven.” Jenny eyed the old woman who had had her way in this room for over forty years, surprised she was even considering a change.

“Well then...ya’ve proved ya know what yer doin’ since the first day ya set foot in here, Jenny Moon. So guess we jes wait till t’morrow.” She wrapped the big bird and shoved the box of foil in Jenny’s direction for the dressing.

Jenny smiled, enjoying the compliment Hannah had just paid her.

“So ya gonna stay here this time, young one? I sure did miss yer help. These old legs cain’t take much more of these long days.”

The casual conversation ended as subtly as a brick through the window. Hannah was now working her agenda. Jenny knew it would come sooner or later, but was surprised how soon. She remembered Max’s open invitation the last time she’d been here. There was no doubt she would be a welcome addition to the ranch. The work was actually easier and a lot less stressful than her catering job back home. And here she would be with Savannah and all the others she had come to care for. So why the hesitation? Only one word popped into her thoughts.

Shane.

Could she be around him for long and not get involved? Was she ready to trust him? Or any man, as far as that goes? A fling was one thing, but a commitment was quite another. Her mother had taught her well: men could not be trusted. In a flash she pictured Ryder with Savannah and the obvious love they shared Maybe, just maybe, some men were different....

“Whatcha daydreamin’ ’bout, girl? Didn’t ya hear my question?”

“Hannah, you don’t need me. Savannah’s a big heip and—”

“And she’s gonna have a youngin soon...who has ta come first, a course. Whatever time or energy she’s got left over will be spent changin’ beds and vacuumin’ for me. M‘back cain’t handle them jobs anymore. Besides, she loves doin’ Max’s paperwork in his clinic out back. That alone takes her hours nearly every day.” She picked up the bundled bird and headed for the extra refrigerator on the side porch.

Jenny grabbed the dressing and beat her to the door, opening it wide for Hannah to pass. When she did, she shot Jenny a what’s-holding-you-back kind of glance, laced heavily with a dose of guilt for even resisting the idea.

They found room for the food in the old refrigerator and rushed in from the unheated porch. Jenny hugged herself and tried avoiding Hannah’s glare, but soon the big woman stood squarely in front of her and folded her arms across her heavy chest.

“Well?”

Jenny took her time looking up, knowing full well the expression she would find on Hannah’s face. This was a woman used to getting her way. Finally Jenny met the old woman’s determined stare. “I’ll give it some serious thought, okay?” She hadn’t meant for annoyance to seep into her tone, but she knew it had.

“Well, maybe you’d think better by yerself.” Hannah untied her apron and hung it on the hook near the door. “Mind cleaning up? I’m all tuckered out.”

“No...not at all. Go on and rest.”

Hannah waved without turning back. “Thanks, girl. See ya in the mornin’.”

Except for wiping the counters and putting a few utensils in the dishwasher, there was little left to do. Jenny moved around quickly, eager to check on Savannah and Ryder’s progress with the outside decorations—anything to keep from mulling over Hannah’s proposition. It was way too soon for such a decision. A nagging inner voice said she was wrong, but she ignored it.

With the last counter wiped clean, Jenny hung up her apron and pushed through the swinging door to the dining room. The French doors at the far side leading to the living room were open wide, showcasing a roaring fire behind the large stone hearth, its warm glow illuminating the spacious yet cozy area. Jenny crossed to it and held her hands to the flames, her gaze fixed on the areas of blue dancing along the massive pile of logs. When her eyes began to sting, she stepped backward and glanced out the bay window to her left. An afghan lay atop a pile of seat cushions, inviting her closer. She walked over and settled in one corner, tucked her legs under her and pulled the cover over her lap to ward off the chill from the small frosty-cornered panes in front of her.

Beyond the window she watched the trio hanging lights on the most perfect evergreen she had ever seen. Ryder’s truck lights beamed on the lower half of the tree. Savannah sat on the front bumper and untangled long strands of multicolored lights, handing them gingerly to Ryder who stood on a tall ladder next to her. Jenny’s gaze drifted to the opposite side of the tree where Shane worked in the shadows. His hands were slow and deliberate as he tucked each light into snowy branches. Always his movements seemed evenly paced, unrushed and with a purpose. To look at him, it would seem he didn’t have a tense muscle in his body. There was a grace and calm about him she envied. Her life had always been a series of deadlines, forever rushed, no time for reflection.

The thought jarred her and she pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them tight. Had she intentionally pushed herself from one task to the next, intentionally leaving no time to analyze her motives, her anxieties, her fears? Fears? Where did that word come from? Even the thought of it made her shudder. Had she ever acknowledged that she was afraid of anything? Not that she could recall.

She shook her head as if it would vanquish the idea, then refocused on Shane’s face, wishing he was closer, that she could see his eyes.

No! It was too soon to think of this man. She closed her eyes to block out his image and immediately her mother came to mind. Poor Mom. All that anger and hate. She opened her eyes and looked to the heavens, hoping that was where Mom was, that she had found some peace at last, that somehow—

“I think my mama lives on that one over there.” Jenny turned with a start. Billy stood behind her, his finger pointing to an area in the north. She expelled a long breath and smiled at him, then followed the direction of his arm, trying to spot his special star.

“Sometimes when I’m watching it, it looks like it’s winking at me.” He knelt on the cushion next to her and pressed his nose to the glass. After a moment he leaned back on his heels and looked at Jenny.

“I’m sorry about your mama, Jenny. Savannah told me.”

Jenny reached out for him and tugged him closer, sharing the afghan with him. He snuggled easily under her arm and she could feel the warmth of his young body spread through her.

“Mama told me to picture her playing with the angels and that sometimes she’d even put on some wings. Do you ever think of your mama like that?”

Jenny rested her chin on his silky blond hair and thought about his simple question. No, she hadn’t. She never thought of her mother playing or smiling or laughing. The world may have frowned on Maddy’s chosen profession, but at least Billy’s mother seemed happy. “Our mamas were very different people, Billy,” she said finally.

He turned his face up to Jenny, his eyes round with curiosity. “How?”

Jenny sighed and struggled to simplify her answer. “My mama was unhappy, Billy.”

“Why?”

She stared out the window, no longer seeing anyone. She wasn’t in the mood to answer that question, but then she never was. Billy was staring at her, waiting, his eyes filled with concern. She swallowed hard, then began. “M-my father left us before I was born.”

“So did mine,” he said, a frown creasing his forehead. “But mama always seemed happy. She said we were so lucky to have each other.”

Jenny kissed Billy’s forehead and could smell the sweet scent of his shampoo. “Your mama was very special, Billy.”

“I know,” he said, a smile curving his small mouth.

Jenny heaved a sigh of relief, thinking the topic had been exhausted, but then Billy spoke again.

“Did she tell you about your dad?”

“A little.”

He lifted his head and stared at her again. Details. He wanted details and Jenny wanted to pretend the man never existed. She could feel the tightness in her chest and decided to give him the shortest response possible. Certainly there were other things they could talk about. Safer things. Billy was still watching her face and she could feel herself getting angry. She wanted to tell him it was none of his business. But he was a child—an adorable one at that. And she had no reason to be angry with him.

“She told me he was a full-blood Crow Indian and that—” she hadn’t thought about this part in years and it suddenly struck her as eerie “—and that he was from Montana originally.” Suddenly she wondered where in Montana. Was it close by? “He told her he was leaving to visit his sick father and that he’d be back...but she never heard from him again.”

“Is that why you don’t like Buck?”

She met his steady gaze, surprised with his question. “Who said I don’t like Buck?”

Billy shrugged. “Nobody. It’s just that you’re different when you’re around him. You’re real nice to everybody else—” he looked at his lap “—well, except maybe Uncle Shane sometimes.”

This kid didn’t miss a thing. But were her actions so transparent? Obviously they were, if an eight-year-old could see through her. After an awkward silence, she lifted his chin with her finger and looked him in the eye. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re much too wise for such a young man?”

“Uh-huh. Dad and Savannah.” He smiled at last, apparently pleased with Jenny’s observation. “Sometimes Grandpa Max, too.”

“Well, I guess you can add me to that list, Billy Malone.”

He snuggled back under her arm and watched the tree decorating outside. So did Jenny, relieved that the boy’s questions had finally ceased.

The silence lasted less than five minutes.

“I wish my mama was with me, but there’s no place better in the world to live than here at the Malone ranch with Dad and Savannah, Grandpa Max and all the others.” He glanced up at her again. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so sad if you stayed here, too.”

“Enough, young man. I am not sad.” She forced a big smile that she could see did not convince him. He turned back to the window and fell silent again till Ryder plugged in the lights. Then he gasped.

“Oooh. Look, Jenny. Isn’t it neat?”

Through bleary eyes she looked from the twinkling tree to the awe on Billy’s innocent face and she knew one thing was for certain.

Leaving this place wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought.

The men rose slowly from their seats around the television, stretching and rubbing their stomachs as they inhaled the flavorful scents wafting from the festive dinner being set on the table in the next room. The Detroit Lions had barely beaten the San Francisco Forty-Niners, but Jenny and Savannah were milking the victory for all it was worth.

“What a great bet you came up with, Jen,” Savannah said loudly, finding a spot for the cranberry gelatin mold.

Josh was the first to react “She was just kidding. That wasn’t a real bet.”

Hannah deposited the golden brown turkey in front of Max’s place for the traditional carving. “Huh! It didn’t sound like a joke to me. All you guys get to clean up while we women watch a movie. That was the bet and I heard it. And ya better not break one of these here pieces of china or crystal, either...or you’ll have me ta answer to.”

There was some good natured groaning from the men as they settled into their places around the table. Shane and Ryder were the last to enter the room.

“It’s all Joe’s fault,” Ryder grumbled, dropping into his chair.

“Yeah.” Shane nodded, fiddling with the sound on the CD player before joining him. “If Montana was still quarterbacking, the Forty-Niners would have won for sure, right Billy?”

Billy laughed. “It’s so much fun to live in Joeville during football season, Uncle Shane. Did you know all the kids at school call this town Joe, Montana.” He giggled again.

“Yep. Did you know your dad was the one who started that tradition?” He noticed Billy’s eyes growing wider as he looked at Ryder with new admiration.

“Really?” Billy asked as Ryder smiled and nodded. “Could you and Uncle Shane teach me how to play football someday?”

Satisfied with his music selection, Shane walked to his seat and stood behind it. He eyed the young boy who looked with wonder at Ryder. Would he ever have a child look at him that way? Shane wondered. Would he even have a child? He was nearly thirty-four and he didn’t even have a woman in his life. Yet at times like this, feeling the warmth around the table, he wished he had his own young family. He pulled out his chair with a loud sigh and sat down at one end of the table, opposite Max.

“Football, football, football.” Hannah stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen, her hands on her hips. “We women slave for days to put this feast before ya, and all you guys can do is talk about some silly pigskin.”

Max reached out for Hannah’s hand from his seat at the end nearest the kitchen. “You’re right, Hannah. Now come and join us.” He motioned to the chair next to him, which on very rare occasions Hannah reluctantly occupied. She pushed wiry strands of gray hair behind her ears and smoothed the front of her white apron with her hands, looking very uncomfortable sitting with the family instead of in the kitchen as was the norm. She looked up shyly and Shane winked at her and lifted his glass.

“I propose a toast to Hannah, Savannah—” his gaze moved slowly to his left “—and Jenny.” Their eyes met and held a moment before he finished. “For your labor of love that we are all about to enjoy. Thank you very much, ladies. And Happy Thanksgiving to all.”

“Here, here.” The others lifted their glasses and drank.

Max said grace and then began carving the turkey as others passed platter after platter around the long table, conversation coming easily over the joyous sounds of Handel’s Messiah drifting from the living room. Everyone made sounds of appreciation as one dish after another was sampled and enjoyed.

From the corner of his eye, Shane could see a pink tinge on Jenny’s neck when the compliments didn’t stop. She kept her head down and continued eating, but he could feel her embarrassment. He wanted to add his own praise, yet he held back, seeing her discomfort. His own ill ease manifested itself under the table. If he moved his left leg a few inches to the left, he was certain it would touch hers. It felt as though a magnet was attached to his knee, the pull so great that he had a difficult time concentrating on the food in front of him. To his relief, he heard his father clear his throat and knew he was about to speak.

“After this marvelous meal I hesitate to bring this up. I’m sure the food won’t be nearly as good, but the university is having a special banquet two weeks from tomorrow... and, well—” he drank some wine and looked uncomfortable “—it’s in my honor and the family has been invited to attend.”

Shane lifted his glass and aimed it at his father. “Congratulations.”

The others followed suit with Josh asking the question, “Is there an award or something?”

“Well, yes.”

“For—?” Josh wouldn’t let him off the hook.

“Man of the Year.”

“Way to go, Grandpa!” Billy ran from his chair and threw his arms as far as they would reach around Max’s chest. He ruffled the boy’s hair while the others laughed, hooted and applauded.

Josh turned to Jenny next to him and explained further. “Dad has been lecturing to med students at Montana State every Wednesday since he stopped his full-time practice. And he’s mentored so many that there probably isn’t a university hospital in the country who hasn’t heard of some of his techniques in neurosurgery.”

Max smiled down at Billy and the boy scurried back to his seat, a forkful of mash potatoes in his mouth a moment later.

“Speaking of the mentor program,” Max started. “There’s an especially bright student that I’ve been thinking of approaching about working here at my clinic part-time. I’ve asked her to join our table so you can all have a chance to meet her.”

“Her?” Josh asked, suddenly more interested.

“Yes...Taylor Phillips. And you, Joshua, are probably my only hesitation in extending the job offer.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Not only is she bright, but she’s blond, beautiful and just about the age you’d be interested in.”

“What’s that?” Ryder piped in. “Fourteen?”

Josh tossed a roll across the table and Ryder caught it. “Very funny.”

Max laughed with the others, then added, “She’s in her mid-twenties...a graduate student and one helluva physical therapist. I don’t have the patience to do the follow-up work with my busted up cowboys, but I’d bet they wouldn’t balk at physical therapy if Taylor was the one they had to work with every week.”

“That special, huh?” Josh grinned.

“Come to the banquet and find out.” Max looked around the table. “Savannah and Jenny... I hope you’ll come, top...if it doesn’t sound too boring.”

The women eyed each other for only a second. “Of course we’ll come,” Savannah said. “If this Taylor is as gorgeous as you say, I’d better keep a leash on Ryder.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, feigning interest, and Savannah punched him playfully in the arm.

“Uncle Shane,” Billy said between mouthfuls. “Do you think I could stay overnight with Buck while you’re all at the party?”

Shane glanced at Jenny before answerittg, noticing she wore her usual frown whenever Buck’s name was mentioned. “I bet Buck would love that, Billy. Why don’t you go ask him after dinner. You could take him a big plate of leftovers while you’re at it.”

Billy stopped eating and the space between his eyebrows dimpled. “How come Buck isn’t here with us now?”

While everyone else kept their heads down and their forks moving, Shane could feel Jenny’s stare, waiting for his answer. “He was invited, big guy, but Buck isn’t too keen about crowds and small talk. One-on-one is more his style. That’s why I’m sure he’ll love you to stay with him when we go to Grandpa’s dinner, okay?”

Billy studied Shane’s face a moment, then resumed eating. “Okay.”

After a few seconds of utensils scraping plates and no conversation. Josh changed topics in his usual upbeat fashion.

“Think I’ll go into Billings tomorrow and load up on materials for my house. I’ve just about run out of drywall and studs.”

Ryder heaved a sigh. “Great. That means I get a day off from swinging a hammer. Thanks, little bro.”

“Enjoy it while you can.” Josh laughed. “Wait till you see what I’ve got in store for you next week.” He glanced at Shane. “You ought to ride over and look at the place, Shane. You wouldn’t believe how much we’ve got done already.”

Shane shifted in his seat and accidentally his leg rubbed against Jenny’s calf. She didn’t pull away. He knew he should—what signals it might send if he didn’t move soon.

He didn’t move a hair.

“Well?” Josh persisted.

“Uh...sure. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow morning after chores.” He wanted to ask Jenny if she’d like to ride along, but he couldn’t look at her. But then she slid her leg ever so slightly against his and he knew she was reading his thoughts. There was no doubt they would ride out to Josh’s farm together. Tomorrow. Miles from the ranch and curious eyes. Alone in a place with no heat other than the wood stove in the kitchen and a fireplace off the parlor.

Then he remembered Ryder mentioning there was a bed.

He shifted in his chair and broke contact under the table. This line of thought was as dangerous as the woman sitting next to him. Maybe he should ask Billy to come along—

Savannah broke into his reverie. “Ryder...as long as you have some free time tomorrow, why don’t you take Billy and me into town for some Christmas shopping?”

Ryder groaned, but nodded.

Shane pushed his plate away, food no longer on his mind.

Four

After breakfast Friday morning, Savannah retreated to her quarters to work on her gift list before Ryder and Billy could return from plowing and they would leave for their shopping expedition. She was so excited by the prospect that her enthusiasm spilled over on Jenny, who now stood in the middle of the kitchen, smiling.

Shane had said he would be ready for their ride to Josh’s farm at ten o’clock. She wondered how long they would stay there, what would happen if they spent a lot of time alone. Her smile turned to a mischievous grin as she spun around and checked the clock on the stove. It was twenty to. Enough time to pack a picnic lunch if she hurried. But how would she carry it?

Her down jacket hung over the back of a chair. She grabbed it and rushed out the door before zipping it closed. A gust of frigid air hit her chest and she clutched the jacket with both hands and ran to the tack house in front of the corrals. With a mighty jerk on the heavy wooden door, it gave way and sunlight spilled over the jam-packed room, a room heavy with the scent of leather, damp blankets and the hard earth floor. She stood with her hands on her hips and scanned the walls of bits and bridles, feeling for a moment as though she were on a simulated Western movie set and that she might hear the hammering of a blacksmith any second.

“Can I help?”

Jenny spun around and fell back a step. Blinded by the brightness of the snow and sun, she could not make out the features of the man in the doorway, but there was no doubt who he was. Not only had she recognized the voice, but his long hair, which fell to his belt, was blowing to one side.

“Why are you always sneaking up on me?” It annoyed her to no end that she never heard Buck whenever he approached her, and she imagined he enjoyed her consistent reaction.

“I am not a horse. I do not pound or paw at the earth when I move.”

She didn’t have time for this nonsense, so she got right to the point. “I need something to pack food in...for when Shane and I go riding out to the farm.”

He didn’t move, but simply pointed over her right shoulder. She turned and blinked and saw a row of saddlebags straddling a rough-sawn rail.

“Second one from left best. Most room,” Buck said behind her.

She picked it up and started for the door, but he didn’t move, blocking her path.

“What your last name?”

Was this old man senile or what? She expelled an exasperated breath. “Moon,” she said, still not able to see his eyes because of the blinding backlight.

He cocked his head slightly to one side. “I mean... whole Indian name.”

She wanted to tell him to take a hike, but figured the quickest way to end this farce was to give him what he wanted. “Howls at the Moon,” she snapped, not hiding her impatience with his stupid questions.

His head and back straightened and he stopped breathing.

Oh, for Pete’s sake. Was she going to have to shove him out of the way? She moved toward him and turned sideways, determined to get by him one way or the other. Suddenly he stepped backward and let her pass.

“Thanks for pointing out the saddlebags,” she said over her shoulder, and ran back to the house. When she got inside and shut the door she could see him standing rigid in the same spot, staring in her direction. She turned away, slapped the bags on the chopping block and started pulling yesterday’s leftovers from the refrigerator.

How did Shane put up with that weird old geezer? she wondered, working as fast as she could and eyeing the clock. He gave her the spooks. And why did he ask about her name? She hadn’t thought about that name in years. It had never actually been her name since her mother had legally changed it before she was born. She was surprised she even remembered it.

Shane burst through the side door just as she packed the last pouch. His cheeks were red and he stomped snow from his boots on the worn braid rug.

“Sure you want to do this today?” he asked. “It’s colder than usual and looks like it could snow any minute.”

Jenny picked up the loaded saddlebags and rolled her eyes. “If I wasn’t going, would you still be riding out there?” She watched his slow grin and knew his answer. “Well, here then.” She handed him the bags. “Make yourself useful.” He took the load and shook his head in amused defeat while she shrugged back into her jacket and tugged on her hat and gloves.

Shane lingered with his hand on the doorknob, his smile disappearing. “Did you talk to Buck in the tack room this morning?”

Jenny shifted her weight impatiently to one leg. “Yeah. Why?”

“Did he seem a little strange?”

Jenny couldn’t suppress a laugh. Buck always seemed strange. Was Shane just noticing?

“I’m serious,” Shane said, his eyes narrowing. “Did you two argue?”

This conversation was growing tiresome. “No,” she said, not enjoying this shift in mood. “We barely spoke. I told him what I needed, he pointed it out, I said thanks. Why? Is there a problem?”

The accusation on his face turned to puzzlement. “When I went to get blankets, he was standing in the doorway, staring into space. He didn’t even acknowledge me at first. Then he said he was going away for a couple of days...that I shouldn’t worry.” Still frowning, Shane opened the door and waited for Jenny to pass.

They walked to the stables and saddled up in silence while Jenny replayed the brief incident with Buck in her head. The only part she hadn’t told Shane was the business about her name and what could that have to do with anything?

The sun slid behind a massive gray cloud and Jenny shivered as she rode behind Shane up the now familiar path. At the crest of the hill he waited for her. She stopped next to him and tugged her scarf higher on her nose and tightened the string of her hooded parka. Shane looked off to the east and she followed his gaze to the valley where the cattle clustered around three trucks. From the back of each, ranch hands fed the hungry Black Angus.

“Are you up to a fast ride?” he asked after a moment.

She looked at his eyes, which still seemed filled with concern—for the weather or Buck, she wasn’t certain and didn’t ask.

“Lead the way,” she puffed through her scarf. And he did just that.

He could hear her right behind him and was glad for the time to gather his thoughts. This trek was probably not the smartest thing he had ever done, what with clouds ready to dump who knew how many more inches of snow. It wasn’t the idea of not being able to get back to the ranch that troubled him as much as the thought of being stranded with this wily woman. What were the odds that they would leave their hands off each other if they ended up spending the night there? Of course Josh would return from Billings, so his presence would most likely prevent things from getting too out of hand. And if he remembered correctly, Josh said there weren’t any interior doors hung yet.

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