Liz gulped, every inch of her going into white-hot alert.

Wh-what are you doing?” She stepped back, found she was suddenly holding her breath.

He danced her slowly backward, toward the wall. “Putting your willpower and integrity to the test.”

The feel of his hands moving up her arms, to her shoulders, then her neck, then her face, sent a shimmer of need sifting through her. “Travis….”

He ran his thumbs along her jaw, then her lips, the soft encouraging pressure parting them. “I’m not your client any more, Liz.” He touched his mouth to hers. Briefly. Testingly.

“I’m not even your friend.”

He bent his head and kissed her again, his lips tenderly coaxing and recklessly taking, the sensuality of his mouth moving over hers, until she wreathed her arms about his neck and kissed him back, every bit as passionately and deeply as he was kissing her.

Dear Reader,

When I created the fictional town of Laramie, Texas, I wanted it to embody all the best qualities of the Lone Star State. Hence, it had to be a place where people dreamed big and knew through hard work and determination that anything was possible. It had to be a place where love was boundless. Family mattered. Neighbors helped each other out. Generosity of spirit and honorable behavior was the norm.

Readers responded by falling in love with the setting as surely as I had, and now, the fictional town of Laramie, Texas, is home to twenty-four novels. (All now available as ebooks.) The McCabes of Texas miniseries—the stories about John and Lilah McCabe’s four bold, handsome sons—started the McCabe family dynasty. The answers to those four men were the four orphaned sisters in The Lockharts of Texas. Sam McCabe, his five rowdy sons and feisty Kate Marten were the subject of Texas Vows, a single-title novel. The McCabes: Next Generation focused on the six offspring of Sam and Kate Marten McCabe. Texas Legacies: The Carrigans featured the four offspring of Meg Lockhart and Luke Carrigan. And Texas Legacies: The McCabes recounts the love stories of the offspring of Greta and Shane McCabe.

Now, I introduce to you my new series, The Legends of Laramie County, with four memorable new Texas clans. We start with the Cartwrights—four generations of Texas lady ranchers who suddenly find themselves in need of a … man?

For more information on these and other books please visit me on the web at www.cathygillenthacker.com.

Happy reading!

Cathy Gillen Thacker

The Reluctant Texas Rancher

CATHY GILLEN THACKER

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Chapter One

“We have to face facts. We need a man and we need one bad,” eighty-three-year-old Tillie Cartwright said, the moment the four women sat down on the porch of the ranch house.

“Like heck we do.” Sixty-six-year-old Faye Elizabeth handed out the corn to be shucked. “Men are nothing but trouble. Always have been. Always will be.”

“But they have their uses.” Forty-eight-year-old Reba winked. “And with my sciatica acting up again …” She winced as she tried to get her aching hip and thigh settled comfortably in the cushioned wicker chair. “I don’t know any other way to manage. Unless …”

All eyes turned to the youngest member of the family.

Liz Cartwright shook her head at the three generations of Cartwright women in front of her. Under any other circumstance this conversation would have been ludicrous, but on the estrogen-powered Four Winds cattle ranch, where she had grown up and now resided once again, the ornery, fiercely opinionated comments were to be expected.

“I’m not giving up my law practice to run this ranch,” Liz said with the full conviction of her twenty-eight years. It didn’t matter how much pressure her mother tried to exert. “I said I would help out—and I will—but other than that, the most I’m prepared to do is help you choose a new ranch hand.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here,” a deep male voice interjected.

An audible gasp filled the air as Travis Anderson walked around the side of the house and climbed onto the porch. The tall, oh-so-sexy cowboy removed his hat, revealing thick dark hair in need of a cut, and charcoal-gray eyes.

His respects paid, Travis settled the Stetson squarely on his head and smiled. “Isn’t that right, ladies?”

TRAVIS HAD FIGURED Liz Cartwright would not be all that excited to see him. The two of them had dated in high school. She still resented him for the way he had ended it.

“We’re looking for a ranch hand, Travis,” Liz told him drily as she ripped a chunk of green husk and silk from a cob. “Not a Houston attorney.”

Travis knew the Laramie County rumor mill had been working overtime since he had arrived home a few days ago, suitcase in hand.

Liz was apparently curious, too. Though he doubted his savvy fellow attorney would come right out and admit it.

After taking in the way the spring sunlight brought out the fire in her shoulder-length, auburn hair, he studied the skeptical twist to her pink lips.

It didn’t matter that Liz was more beautiful than ever, or that her fair skin looked just as soft to the touch. And the fact she was sexy in an unconscious, girl-he’d-grown-up-with way was of no consequence, either.

What he needed was the opportunity to make a deal. And this temporary job on the Four Winds Ranch would give him that. As well as a place to stay …

Never one to be taken advantage of, Liz waved a dismissive hand before going on to strip the ear of corn bare and drop it into the bowl. She paused to shoot him a disdainful look. “So maybe you should run along back to the city….”

Travis shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and leaned against the porch rail. As always when they were together, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. “Didn’t you hear?” he taunted, looking into her emerald eyes. “My days as a bona fide city slicker are over.”

Standing abruptly, Liz placed her hands on her slender, jean-clad hips. “Hearing it and believing it to be true are two different things.” She let her gaze drift over him before returning ever so deliberately to his eyes. “And why anyone as accomplished as you would give up a downtown loft and a six-figure salary …”

Put that way, Travis knew, his actions didn’t make sense. He concentrated on what would. “The loft measured less than six hundred square feet.” Casting a glance at Tillie, Faye Elizabeth and Reba, he flashed the kind of disarming smile he used on witnesses he was about to depose, before explaining wryly, “It wasn’t a whole lot of space to give up. As for the job …” He turned back to Liz and lifted a hand. “I decided I’m better suited at the moment for a wide-open range and a herd of cattle. Two things you ladies have in spades.”

A place, he added silently, where I’ll have plenty of space and privacy to reflect. Plenty of time to plan my next big move …

Liz folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Neither the land nor the cattle are for sale, so if that’s your angle, Travis Anderson …”

“I do want my own land. My own herd.” As well as something even more important to him: an intact reputation. “But while I’m figuring out how I’m going to get those things, I won’t mind taking care of yours.”

“I VOTE WE HIRE HIM,” Liz’s mother said, as soon as Travis Anderson walked off to give them a moment to confer.

Tillie shrugged. “He knows cattle.”

Faye Elizabeth frowned. “I don’t see that we have much choice, given the fix we’re in.”

“I’m not so sure we have to act this fast,” Liz cautioned, with lawyerly calm. “For starters, I don’t trust why he’s here.” Travis had been achievement-oriented his entire life. “I think he has an ulterior motive.”

She just wasn’t sure what it was.

Liz’s mother sized her up with a mischievous grin. “No matter. I’m sure you’ll be able to contain yourself around that handsome man. If that’s what you want,” she teased.

Liz flushed and pushed the distant memory of Travis’s kisses away. Kisses she had been too uptight to really enjoy, because she’d been so afraid of having her heart stomped on by the cutest boy in school.

Ignoring the knot of anxiety in her solar plexus, she shook her head. “I didn’t mean me. There have been rumors in the legal community that Travis Anderson lost his boy wonder status.”

Reba frowned. “That doesn’t sound like the Travis I recall. Or anyone with Lockhart and Anderson blood running through his veins. Most members of both families are incredibly successful.”

“I didn’t believe it, either,” Liz admitted with a shake of her head. “Until he showed up here today, looking for work. Now I’m beginning to think there might be something to it. Just as there’s more to his asking for work here, of all places.”

“Such as?” Tillie prodded.

Liz turned her glance to Travis. Currently, he was inspecting the broken-down, thirty-year-old tractor parked next to the barn.

She remembered him being tall and broad-shouldered. Athletic enough to make all the school teams he wanted. Smart enough to graduate with a whole passel of scholarships. But she didn’t remember him being that muscular, or so good at filling out a pair of jeans.

“What could he be up to?” Faye Elizabeth asked, inspecting the shucked corn for any stray strands of silk.

Travis turned. The bemused expression on his face said he knew they were watching him.

Thank heaven he didn’t know what Liz was thinking!

Eyebrows raised, he stared at her a long moment, then glanced away.

Aware that everyone was waiting for her to weigh in, Liz turned back to them, her pulse racing.

She pushed aside the desire welling up inside her. This was no time to be thinking about kissing Travis again.

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “Despite what he says, I can’t see him ever giving up the law to ranch.” Liz knew how hard Travis Anderson had worked for everything he’d earned, how deeply wedded he was to all his plans. “It wouldn’t matter what kind of professional disappointment he has weathered. He would still pick himself up, dust himself off and keep right on going toward his goal.” Whatever the latest one was.

Reba shrugged. “Sounds to me like Travis has finally come to his senses, in wanting to return to the ranching life he was born into.” She looked at her daughter. “You’d be lucky if you had an epiphany like that, too.”

Liz dropped her head in her hands and groaned. Would they never stop wishing she would give up everything to take over the ranch?

Getting back to business, Reba pushed on. “All those in favor of hiring Travis Anderson to ride, rope and wrangle for us, say aye.”

“Aye,” the three elder Cartwright women said in unison.

Trying not to think about how uncomfortable it would be for her to have Travis around all the time, Liz threw up her hands. “Fine.” She was so busy with her law practice, she wasn’t going to be here much, anyway.

Faye Elizabeth gathered up the shucked corn and took it into the kitchen to start dinner. Tillie headed back to the ranch books. Only Reba remained on the porch with Liz.

Her mother pointed to the fence, where Travis stood gazing out at the vast, rolling terrain of the ten-thousand-acre Four Winds. “Go get him, and show him to his quarters.”

Liz tore her gaze from his handsome profile. She hadn’t expected him to sleep on the property, too! Irritably, she demanded, “Which are going to be where?”

“The homestead, of course.”

Her mouth fell open. “Wait a minute.” Indignant, she angled a thumb at her chest. “I’m sleeping in the homestead.”

“You were. Now he will be. Unless …” Reba tossed her a speculative look “… you want Travis bunking in the main house with us?”

Her frustration mounting, Liz leaped to her feet. “Why does he have to be on the ranch at all before eight o’clock or after five?” The last thing she needed was a sexy guy she’d once had a crush on underfoot….

Reba winced and put a hand against her lower back. “Because it’s calving season, we barely have the funds to pay one ranch hand and we need someone around to do the heavy lifting at all hours of the day and night.”

Liz couldn’t argue the necessity of having someone to relieve her mother of the physical rigors of ranch work. However, she could disagree with his working conditions. “I know that, Mom, but he has to have time off,” she said reasonably.

Reba stretched to relieve the pain. “He can have time off after all the calves are born.”

As always, the Cartwright tunnel vision when it came to ranch matters superseded all else, including the needs of others. “Travis may not agree to this,” Liz warned.

Reba sent her a confident glance. “Then it’s up to you to convince him.”

TRAVIS HEARD BOOT STEPS crossing the rough ground, and turned as Liz approached.

The reluctant look on her pretty face told him all he needed to know. He had a temporary job. Likely over her objections.

“I’m ready to start anytime,” he drawled, eyeing her in a way it would have been unwise to do earlier, before he got the job.

Her rich auburn hair was just as thick and silky as he recalled. It was a little shorter now, falling only to her shoulders. But the classic cut and side-swept bangs suited her as much as the slight flush to her cheeks, the hint of temper in her pine-green eyes, and the determined set of her soft, bow-shaped lips.

His presence obviously flustered her, as it always had, in a way he found irresistible.

What was different was that he felt a little off his game around her, too.

As if his ordinary way of tackling people and problems wouldn’t work.

To get to know her, to understand the way she ticked, he would have to dig deeper, get past her resistance—as he hadn’t been able to do when they were teens.

And given what they needed to accomplish, the sooner he was able to do that the better.

“Tonight, if you want,” he continued.

Liz scowled, looking even less thrilled about that. “They figured as much.” She cocked her head sideways and sized him up with a wary glance. “You know they expect you to move out here, for as long as you choose to work for the Four Winds Ranch?”

Nodding, Travis ambled closer.

She might be struggling to handle her family, or contain him, but she was still sweet and sharp, with a way of beckoning him near that went far beyond simple chemistry.

Pushing the attraction away, he said, “The ad posted in the feed store said the position included room and board and being on call 24/7.” Which made it perfect for him … and his goals.

Liz huffed, clearly as annoyed by his accommodating attitude as she was by his presence. With only a cursory look at the cattle grazing in the pasture beyond, she wheeled around and took off in the opposite direction. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, tossing a mocking glance over her shoulder. “You haven’t seen your quarters yet.”

Travis admired the sway of her slender hips and the purposeful way her long legs ate up the ground. He caught up with her, so they were walking side by side. “Does this mean I’ll get the room next to yours?”

Liz shot him a drop-dead look and headed toward the one-room log cabin behind the barns. En route, they passed the main ranch house, an angular, U-shaped domicile made of rough-hewn timber and flat-cut stone, with wide porches on the front and back. “Actually, you’re getting my room. Or what was my room, once I clear my stuff out. You’ll be bunking in the old homestead.”

He was close enough to smell the jasmine scent of her perfume. Not a good thing, given what it did to his libido.

He eased back as they reached a field of knee-high grass, interspersed with Texas wildflowers. “Well, that’s exciting.”

“Not really.” Mirroring his ironic tone, Liz paused to open a gate in the weathered wood fence. “It’s very primitive.”

He shrugged. “There’s something to be said for whittling life down to the very basics.”

As he was doing today.

It made you reevaluate. Think about what you wanted versus what you needed. It made it easier to set a goal and develop a plan to go after what you had to have to be happy.

Travis was ready to do that, and more.

Liz latched the gate behind them, then carried on. “You say that now,” she predicted. “You may be singing a different tune later.”

She really didn’t know him. “Does it have indoor plumbing?”

She slanted him a glance from beneath those thick auburn lashes. “As well as electricity. But no real kitchen. So you’ll have to take your meals in the main house with us, unless you want to get by on whatever you can store in the minifridge and whip up on a hot plate or microwave.”

He ignored her attempt to discourage him. The way her shirt cupped her breasts was not so easy to disregard.

Folding his arms, he tried to ignore the pressure starting at the front of his jeans. “Thanks for the option, but I’m not much of a cook.”

Amusement glimmered in her eyes. “Somehow I suspected that would still be the case.”

Okay, that was definitely a dig, but he wasn’t going to apologize for the single-minded dedication he had given to his path in life. It had gotten him where he wanted to go, and then some. The fact that some of it had recently derailed was his fault, sure, but being here would fix that.

“Faye Elizabeth, on the other hand, is legendary for her culinary skills,” Travis continued, with lazy insistence. That was one bonus for being on the ranch, right there.

Liz rolled her eyes. “And there is nothing my grandmother likes more than an appreciative audience for her efforts.”

“She’ll have that in me,” he promised. These days, he would take his pleasure where he could get it.

Liz paused at the door to the homestead. “My question is why are you really doing this?” She eyed him skeptically. “And don’t give me that you-just-want-to-be-a-rancher-and-ride-the-open-range bit again, Travis Anderson. Because I’m just not buying it!”

Chapter Two

For a moment, Liz thought Travis wasn’t going to answer her. Then he reached into his pocket for his wallet, took a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her.

She gazed into his intelligent gray eyes, wishing he wasn’t such a fine example of masculine intensity. But he was. With the kind of good looks that only got better with age. The sensuality of his lips perfectly complemented his other bold, handsome features. And the rest of him was just as fine. He was six foot three inches of solid, indomitable male, and he used it to his advantage.

Which made his arrival back in Laramie County all the more perplexing.

Doing her best to control the sudden hitch in her breathing, Liz looked down at the bill in her hand and remarked with humor, “I’m dying to know what this is for.”

He took off his hat as he followed her inside. “I want to hire you to represent me.”

Was he serious? The brooding look in his eyes said he was.

Liz watched him run a hand through dark, tousled hair, which was several weeks past time for a cut. “Well, then it’s going to cost you a heck of a lot more than twenty dollars,” she said, setting her lingering physical attraction to him aside. “An initial consultation is two hundred dollars.” And there were other reasons she should say no, too.

Travis nodded amiably. “Consider that a down payment for helping me clear my name and get my career back on track.”

Of all the things he could have confided in her, this was the last Liz ever would have expected. She stared at him in surprise.

“My law license has been suspended for six months. I want you to handle the appeal.”

Curiosity won out over common sense. “What did you do?” she asked in shock.

Tensing, Travis looked around the cabin, taking in the brass bed and wooden armoire, the old leather sofa, the table and two chairs. Tucked into the open shelving that served as a pantry was a minifridge, microwave and hot plate. Adjacent to that was an old-fashioned kitchen sink. A small bathroom, with pedestal sink and narrow shower, had been added on.

He turned back to her, clearly not happy about having to admit, “I disappointed a client who is now suing me for legal malpractice.”

Silence fell between them. It was impossible to imagine the Travis she had grown up with doing anything unethical or foolish. “Are you still with Haverty, Brockman & Roberts?”

He settled on the arm of the sofa and stretched his legs out. “They asked me to tender my resignation.”

Liz edged close enough to be able to see his eyes. In the dim light of the cabin, they were the color of an approaching spring storm.

“So they wouldn’t have to pay you severance, right?”

Travis shrugged, the turbulent emotion on his face fading to acceptance. “I got something out of it, too,” he admitted quietly. “It always looks better to resign than to be fired.”

True.

The uncomfortable silence between them lengthened.

Travis studied her with narrowed eyes. “What have you heard about what’s been going on?” he asked curiously.

“In legal circles? Not much … except whatever you did to vault you off the fast track was being kept very hush-hush by the senior partners.”

Travis locked gazes with her. He rested a callused hand on his thigh in a move that wasn’t quite as easy and relaxed as it seemed. “Well, that’s no longer the case.” He exhaled roughly, lips taut. “As of yesterday, the senior partners are letting it be known all over Houston that they are as disappointed in me as my former client is, and they are going to be helping her in the lawsuit being waged against me.”

Not good. Not good at all. “In return for keeping Haverty, Brockman & Roberts from being sued, as well?” Liz guessed.

Travis’s eyes hardened. “Sacrificing me is the only way they can protect the firm and keep Olympia Herndon’s business.”

Liz studied him with the same reserve she would have used with any other client. “Why ask me to represent you? Why not go to another big firm—maybe even an HB&R rival—back in Houston?” There were always competitors eager to take another law firm down a notch.

That was the more logical route to go.

But, apparently, not to him.

Travis faced her boldly, his annoyance at having to explain himself evident. “Everything I have worked for is on the line. I need an attorney I can trust, someone strong and savvy enough to handle this. And you’ve got a reputation for finding out-of-court solutions where there seem to be none.”

That was true. Although, out of courtesy, Liz felt duty-bound to point out, “Your malpractice insurance company can do that for you, Travis.”

He grimaced. “They’re interested in making the problem go away via a large cash settlement that will not only raise my rates but make it look as if I did something wrong, when I didn’t. I want to come out of this with my professional reputation intact.”

“So you’re asserting that there is no validity to any of the charges against you?”

“Everything I did was in my client’s best interest. If the huge business deal Olympia Herndon was chasing had gone through, I have no doubt I would still be representing her. But it didn’t. So—” his broad shoulders lifted in a tense shrug “—someone had to take the fall….”

And that someone had been Travis.

“What about your family?” Liz asked quietly, knowing this couldn’t be going over well with the Andersons. They would be furious at even the implication that Travis had acted less than admirably.

“They know I quit my job in Houston, although I was vague about the reasons. They don’t know about the six-month suspension of my law license, or the lawsuit. And I don’t want them to know until after it’s resolved.”

Liz could understand that. Being falsely accused was humiliating and demoralizing.

Still, it didn’t mean keeping his loved ones in the dark was right. “They’d be on your side,” she predicted.

Travis frowned again. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want them embarrassed by any of this. And I especially don’t want them to offer to help out with any of the legal expenses.”

Ah, yes, money … “Why not?” Liz asked. Kelsey and Brady Anderson ran the Double Deal Ranch, one of the biggest, most successful cattle and horse operations in the state. They could easily afford it.

“Because—in their view, anyway—that would entitle them to be involved in strategy.”

Liz empathized with him. She was fiercely independent by nature, too. “This is your problem. You want to solve it.”

Travis nodded. “With your help.”

He made it sound so personal … but why was she even considering this?

Years ago, she had fallen hard and fast for Travis. And had her heart stomped on as a result.

Now he needed her.

She should say no.

The irony of it was that she wouldn’t—couldn’t—turn away. Partly because she loved helping the underdog and could never resist a challenge. And Travis was that. The rest was more insidious. And deeply personal.

Now that he was back, she had to prove she’d gotten past the devastation of their breakup. That he no longer had the power to hurt her. That she had moved on to a happy, defiantly single and bulletproof life.

This was the best way.

Liz paused, sizing him up, her attorney radar on full alert. He remained all-innocence. Too innocent!

She tapped her index finger against her lips in a parody of thoughtfulness. “Why do I think you’re still not telling me everything?” she asked suspiciously.

“There is one small difficulty.” Travis’s mouth compressed grimly. “I don’t have the money to pay you.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“I can compensate you monetarily for the initial consultation. Beyond that …” Travis stood and lazily ambled toward her “… I’ll have to work off whatever I owe you, on this ranch.”

THE FINANCIAL ARRANGEMENTS alone should have been reason enough to turn down Travis’s request. Add to that the fact the two of them had once dated, albeit a very long time ago … But the bottom line was that the Four Winds bank accounts were at record lows, and he would be doing them a favor, embarking on a bartering agreement.

“You’re saying I can deduct my fees from your salary,” Liz ascertained, thinking how much that would help the ranch coffers.

“Until we’re even. Yep.”

Confident that she could easily separate the business from the personal, she held out her palm. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

They shook on it. Unprecedented warmth spread throughout her body as Travis’s hand engulfed hers. Liz’s throat went dry as she gazed up into his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as easy to keep her emotional distance as she thought.

Luckily, the moment was interrupted by the loud chiming of the ranch bell.

Smiling cheerfully, she let go of his palm and stepped back. “Dinner is ready.”

Travis reached for his hat and slapped it back on his head, tugging it low across his brow. “Best not keep the ladies waiting, then.”

Together they slipped out of the homestead and headed past the barns to the ranch house.

“One more thing,” Travis cautioned after a moment.

Liz kept moving, staying a careful distance away from him, but slanting him a curious look.

“I’d rather Tillie, Faye Elizabeth and Reba not know I’ve retained your services as an attorney. At least until my, uh, difficulty is all cleared up.”

Thanks to the way Liz had been running off at the mouth earlier, the other Cartwright women already knew she’d suspected Travis was in some sort of downward spiral. Not that any of them seemed to care.

Liz sidestepped the opportunity to tell Travis that, and said, “I’m bound by attorney-client privilege now, as you well know. So they’ll hear nothing from me about what you’ve just told me. But lawsuits are a matter of public record, as are the suspension of law licenses.” For the second time, she warned, “This is going to get out.”

He nodded, clearly aware of that. “But until it does … we’ll let others assume that you and I are spending time together to go over ranch business, or reestablish our previous friendship. Agreed?”

Secrets of this sort bred an intimacy they did not need. Yet what choice did she have? Reluctantly, Liz conceded. “For now, no one else needs to know I’m representing you.”

He exhaled in relief.

Bound together by the confidence, they continued walking toward the house, through the back door and into the kitchen.

“Where have you two been?” Faye Elizabeth demanded, as always on the alert for romance in Liz’s life. “And why don’t you have your things? I assumed that was what was taking so long at the homestead.”

Not quite, Liz thought, keeping her expression bland so as not to give anything away.

Travis removed his hat and put it on a hook near the door. “That was my fault, I’m afraid.” He flashed a winning smile and ran a hand through the rumpled layers of his dark brown hair. “I got to talking….”

And asking for help, Liz thought, still a little amazed he had needed it.

Clearly exasperated, Tillie herded them all toward the large, old-fashioned kitchen table—and the dinner the women had lovingly prepared. “Let them be. We’ve got a hot meal to eat.”

And a big, strapping man to feed….

“As well as serious business to discuss,” Reba added as they all sat down at the big oak table.

Travis’s knee nudged Liz’s as they got situated.

She flushed at the unexpected wave of heat that resulted, and edged back in her chair.

Oblivious to Liz’s reaction, Reba complained, “We are way behind in the ranch work.”

Liz forced herself to concentrate on something other than Travis’s big, rangy frame.

“I know that, Mom.” She tried not to feel as if the fate of the Four Winds was resting on her shoulders. Or would be, if she would only do what the others wanted and take over the running of the ranch, as tradition dictated. “It’s why we hired Travis to help us.”

Liz looked at him, hoping he would get the hint and divert their attention.

“Maybe you should make a list of what needs to be done, and in what order,” he suggested with a faint smile.

While the women looked on approvingly, he placed a generous serving of tender, juicy beef brisket on his plate.

Reba passed the heaping bowl of skillet corn, livened up with diced onion and green and red pepper. “Liz can help you with that.”

Liz knew a bit of ham-handed matchmaking when she saw it. She suppressed a beleaguered sigh while dishing potato salad and coleslaw onto her plate. “I think you should do it, Mom. Since you’re the one running the physical side of the ranch. I’m only here when I can be, to help out.”

Which wasn’t all that often, given the demands of her law practice.

Reba disagreed. “I’ve been wanting to pass the responsibility on to you for several years now. And especially now, with my sciatica acting up again … and Travis here to do the heavy labor. It seems like it is finally time for you to take over the reins of the Four Winds.”

It might seem that way to the other Cartwright women, perhaps, Liz thought with mounting resentment. Not to her.

Travis arched a brow.

“You know what to do, Liz,” Reba continued persuasively. “All I’m asking is that you find time to do it.”

Sidestepping the familiar argument, Liz spread a gingham napkin across her lap. She understood her duty to her family. She just couldn’t do everything they wanted her to, when they wanted it done. “First things first.” Trying not to notice how easily he had made himself at home in such an estrogen-charged environment, she locked eyes with Travis. “I have to clear my belongings out of the homestead so Travis can move in.”

“YOU DON’T HAVE ANY intention of ever taking over management of this ranch, do you?” Travis murmured, after the meal had been concluded and the two of them had been shooed out of the ranch house and over to the homestead to get the moving done.

Just go right to the heart of things, why don’t you? Liz thought.

Hating the way he saw inside her head—zeroing in on what no one else knew, even after all this time—she opened up the bureau drawers and moved her clothing into two open suitcases.

With her voice as crisp and businesslike as her actions, she continued, “It isn’t necessary right now, since Great-grandma Tillie is still doing the books and the land management, Grandma Faye Elizabeth is doing the majority of the cooking and housekeeping, and my mom is overseeing most of the actual labor.”

His broad shoulders flexing against the fabric of his twill work shirt, Travis boxed up Liz’s books. He paused to give her a speculative once-over, then moved his gaze to her eyes. “But it will be necessary for you to manage the place eventually….”

The electricity in the room rose as surely as the intimacy.

Liz swallowed hard. It was crazy to be so aware of him.

Knowing he was waiting for her reaction, she admitted grimly, “Or end sixty-three years of Cartwright family tradition and deeply disappoint my mother, grandmother and great-grandmother.”

Liz accidentally dropped a handful of undies on the floor and bent to pick them up. “Who, by the way, also want me to figure out how to have a baby and begin another generation of Cartwrights, without simultaneously having my heart broken—as all of them did, for one reason or another.”

His gaze fell to the silk and lace crumpled in her palm. Travis cleared his throat. “Refresh my memory about what went down …”

“My great-grandmother was widowed when her rodeo clown husband got trampled by a bull. Faye Elizabeth lost her husband to an undiagnosed heart ailment, shortly after they married. And my mother lost my dad in a rockslide when I was just a baby.” Liz sighed. “Legend has it that men who love Cartwright women never last long.”

Travis scoffed. “Sounds like an old wives’ tale to me.”

Liz tucked her lingerie into a suitcase. “Or just plain bad luck. Besides, the Cartwright women, who have always bucked tradition and kept their surname, prefer running the ranch themselves, anyway.”

He smiled. “I can see that.” He walked over to help her zip up the bulging suitcases and stand them on their wheels. “Is that why you started your law practice in Laramie?”

Liz stripped the mattress and dumped the sheets into a large wicker laundry basket. She reached for a clean set and began making up the bed. Travis leaned in to help.

“I did that because I didn’t like working for someone else. I worked at a midsize firm in Dallas the first three years out of law school and discovered it wasn’t for me. Too many politics. Too much grunt work. Not enough autonomy.” Trying not to think how intimate a task this could be, Liz tossed him a pillow and a case.

“What about you?” She remembered the way he had been in high school, all big plans and bigger ambitions. Grinning, she speculated, “I bet you loved life in a large firm.”

Then realized, too late, she probably shouldn’t have said that.

After dealing with the pillow, Travis hefted the box of books in his arms. “I enjoyed the competition, the high stakes of all the clients and the cases, until I got pushed out. Then, I have to admit, it wasn’t so fun.”

She moved ahead of him, holding the door open. “Would you go back to it?”

He set the box in the back of her SUV. “It might be different at another big firm.”

She went back to get a suitcase. Travis got the other. “So what you said earlier, about wanting your own ranch …?”

Their shoulders brushed accidentally as they reached the vehicle, causing Liz to momentarily lose her footing.

Travis put out a hand to steady her. “That’s still true. I miss ranch life as much as I love the law.”

She tried not to notice how ruggedly handsome he looked in the warm light of the spring evening.

They had both grown up so much in the time they had been apart.

She couldn’t help but admire the man he had become. “So—unlike me—you want to do both,” she ascertained quietly.

Travis went to help her carry the clothes hanging in the closet. “A lot of Texas attorneys do. Especially in the rural areas.”

Liz picked up several pairs of custom cowgirl boots and the more sedate heels she wore to court. “Don’t let my family hear you say that. They would use it to put additional pressure on me.”

He reached over and set a flat-brimmed felt hat on her head. “They’d be right,” he teased, with a confidence that let her know he had been thinking about this. “There are advantages to diversifying.”

With Travis by her side, Liz made another trip to the SUV. “So where would you do this?” she asked, nearly dropping everything because she was carrying so much. “Here? In Laramie County?”

Travis draped his load of clothing over the stuff already in the back. With casual gallantry, he helped her with the mass of shoes and boots. The kind of mischief she recalled from their high school days glimmered in his eyes.

“Worried about a little competition?”

More like my heart. Although where that thought had come from … Since there was no way she was falling for him again.

Liz stepped back, aware that one more trip would just about clear out the homestead of her things. “Of course not.” She tossed her hair back with the confident attitude that had gotten her through many a difficult situation. “You’re an oil and gas attorney, interested in big stakes.”

Wishing she was in one of her business suits instead of laid-back ranch attire of a calico shirt and jeans, she angled a thumb at her chest. “I run a general law practice that focuses on helping people with ordinary, everyday problems. When it comes right down to it, our prospective clients have as little in common as you and I do.”

A brooding look crossed his face. “You’re right about that,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. He glanced back at the cabin. “So, are we about done here?”

Liz nodded, hating his sudden aloofness, aware she had touched a nerve without meaning to.

Tensing with regret, she handed him the keys to the homestead and shifted the conversation back to business. “When do you want to get started giving me the background information on the lawsuit against you?”

Travis did not miss a beat. “How about tonight?”

Chapter Three

An hour and a half later, tensions were high. And so, Travis thought, were his emotions.

“Do you want me to help you or not?” Liz demanded, her frustration with him apparent.

Travis figured she would be a hard-charging advocate. It was the reason he had hired her. It did not mean, however, that he wanted to bare his soul, to her or anyone else. He sat back in his chair and regarded her with unchecked irritation, taking in her upswept auburn hair. “How my relationship with Olympia started is irrelevant to the case.”

Bracing her hands on her desktop, Liz leaned toward him. She looked at him as if she could read him right down to the marrow of his soul and was not exactly thrilled with what she found.

She arched an elegant eyebrow and moved around to stand in front of the desk. “I will decide what’s relevant and what is not.” She stared at him with lawyerly intensity, then enunciated slowly, “Your job, as my client, is to answer my questions as openly and honestly as possible.”

Telling himself he could handle her, even in full battle mode, Travis added, “And stop thinking like an attorney while I’m at it, right?” He was beginning to see what made her so formidable in and out of the courtroom.

“It would help.” Frowning, Liz picked up the legal documents he had brought for her to peruse. “I don’t need you second-guessing me.”

Then what did she need?

Not that he wanted to go there. Especially with the trouble he was in.

Travis slouched in his chair, reluctantly returning his mind to business. “That’s not what I was doing.”

Liz looked down her nose at him in rigid disagreement. “You’re trying to run the defense.” As if finding it difficult to be that physically close to him, she abruptly straightened and moved away. “And you of all people ought to know better, because ‘a man who is his own lawyer has a fool for his client.’”

Much as he wanted to, Travis could not argue with that. He sighed and glanced around Liz’s law office. Unlike the ultra-luxurious one he’d had at Haverty, Brockman & Roberts, this one was sparsely decorated, with beige walls, sturdy dark wood furniture and comfortable client chairs. The focal point here was Liz. With her hair twisted into a casual knot at the nape of her neck, her attitude unerringly focused and businesslike, she was clearly in her element.

She belonged here, Travis thought. Not working the ranch.

She picked up the yellow legal pad she’d been writing on moments earlier and settled herself in her chair. “Now, back to the beginning …” she continued.

Travis tried not to groan.

“How—and under what circumstances—did you and Olympia Herndon meet?”

Not as accidentally as I thought. “I met her at a charity function we were both attending. I’d heard she was looking for new representation. Before I could approach her, she introduced herself to me.”

Liz scribbled furiously. “Did you talk about her search?”

“Not that evening, no. We just got to know each other a little bit.”

Tapping her pen impatiently on the pad, Liz prompted, “And then what?”

Already restless, Travis stood and prowled her office, inspecting the art—mostly black-and-white photographs of the Four Winds—on the wall. “I saw her again … socially … at a dinner party given by the senior partners and their wives. And then at another fundraiser.” He spun around. Lounging against a bookcase, he thrust his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “A few weeks later, I started representing her.” Aware that if they kept up the conversation they could be headed into dangerous territory, he compressed his lips. “Why does any of this matter?”

“Because Ms. Herndon is asserting in her lawsuit that you did not provide adequate, competent representation or act as a zealous advocate on her behalf.”

Fury gathered in his gut. He hated being put in the position of having to defend himself. “I did everything possible to get that wildcatter to sign with her company. He just didn’t want to.”

Liz studied him. “Would he testify to that?”

Travis wondered if the skin of her face was as silky-soft as it looked. Ditto for her lips.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Digger Dobbs doesn’t strike me as somebody who wants to get involved in somebody else’s mess.”

Liz twisted her lips. Making him wonder if she still kissed the way she once had—like an innocent virgin who preferred to keep her heart under lock and key.

“Well, he’s at the center of this so we’re going to have to contact him.” She paused as her cell phone began to ring, and glanced at the caller ID. “Sorry. This is the Laramie County Sheriff’s Department. I’ve got to get it.” She picked up. “Liz Cartwright. Yeah, hi, Rio. What? You’re kidding! No. Heck, no! Tell him I’ll be right there!”

She clicked off the phone, already half out of her seat. “Client emergency. I’ve got to go.”

Irked to be put on hold, Travis rose. “What about—”

Liz flashed by. “We’ll pick it up later. Even tonight if you want. Right now, I have to get over to Spring Street before J. T. Haskell lands himself in jail.”

TRAVIS HEADED OUT THE DOOR after her. “J. T. Haskell is your client?”

Liz cast a look at the dusky sky. The sun had slipped past the horizon, and it would be dark soon. “I have a habit of taking on underdogs.”

Travis nodded. “So it would seem,” he retorted drily.

Liz slanted him a glance while locking up. Having a big-shot attorney for a client was going to be harder than she’d thought. Partly because he was reluctant to relinquish control, and partly because she had the gut feeling there was still a lot he wasn’t telling her. Things she needed to know to adequately represent him.

But that was no surprise. Clients never gave their attorney all the information up front. Usually because they were trying to maintain their dignity, garner respect. It was up to counsel to retrieve all the facts and get to the bottom line.

Even when it came to defending another attorney.

Liz sighed. As they headed toward the parking lot, she turned the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Why are you so surprised I’m representing J.T.?”

Travis shrugged. “I heard he went off the deep end after his wife died last year.”

An understatement if there ever was one. “He kind of has,” she admitted with a grimace.

“He’s been arrested a couple of times for bar fights.”

“Actually, he was just busting up some furniture. He wasn’t drunk and he didn’t hit anyone. But, yeah, there are a number of places he can’t go in now because of his bad behavior.”

“Anyone talked to him about joining one of Kate Marten-McCabe’s grief groups over at the hospital?”

Liz’s frustration spiraled. “Everyone has.”

“He’s not buying it?”

“He doesn’t think he has a problem.”

Travis stopped at her SUV, all protective male. “I’m going with you.”

The firmness of his voice was a surprise.

Travis was quiet a moment, just looking at her with those keen eyes that seemed to see more than she liked. “He’s a big guy. If he’s upset, he could be dangerous.”

Liz attempted to curtail her irritation. Since when did she need protecting—from anyone? Well used to looking after her own interests, she said, “The sheriff’s department is on the way.”

Travis flashed an easygoing smile and climbed in the passenger side. “Consider it part of my new duties, protecting all the women on the Cartwright ranch.”

Maybe it was her imagination, but it felt a little more than that. “I hate to tell you this, cowboy.” She got in after him and slid her key in the ignition. “But we’re not on the Four Winds.”

He shrugged and turned to pull the safety restraint out of its sheath. “You know what I mean.”

She did. And she didn’t have time to argue. “Fine.” Liz put on her shoulder belt, too, then sent him a warning glare. “Just don’t put on your lawyer hat. This is my situation to handle.”

By the time they got to the Haskell home on Spring Street, the streetlamps were on and the sheriff’s car was already there. Deputies Rio Vasquez and Kyle McCabe were in the front yard, which, given the many stakes and flags, looked as if it had recently been surveyed.

Bypassing the crowd of neighbors who had gathered, Liz marched into the center of the circle of men. Not exactly the best way to spend a tranquil spring evening. “What’s going on?”

Tim Patrone pointed to Haskell. “J.T. has gone too far, that’s what is going on.”

The recently retired man glowered, his face red beneath his shock of white hair. “I want to take down a few trees and build a lagoon-style pool with a waterfall. What’s wrong with that?”

“In the front yard!” Tim retorted.

Liz took in J.T.’s tropical shirt, flip-flops and walking shorts. “I know you have a reason for doing what you’re doing.”

He rubbed the stubble of a three-day-old beard. “Don’t I always?”

“Suppose you tell everyone here what it is.” Before real trouble erupts.

“Cyndi, God bless her soul, always wanted to go to Hawaii. And I never did take her. I figure this is the least I can do. Besides, I offered to let all the neighborhood kids swim in it, once it’s built, so I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“And that’s another big problem. Safety!” Tim fumed.

Deputy Vasquez intervened. “Local ordinance requires a six-foot barrier around any private swimming pool.”

“Then I’ll put one up,” J.T. said with a shrug.

The neighbors appeared outraged at the idea. Liz understood why. A six-foot privacy fence in the front yard would ruin the look of all the homes on the street, as well as obstruct the view.

Liz moved forward and put a hand on J.T.’s arm. “There are zoning considerations, too. You’re going to need a permit to proceed. And I doubt the town of Laramie will grant you one for a swimming pool in the front yard, no matter how beautiful or lavish it is.”

“Well, there’s not room in the backyard,” J.T. declared. “Not for what I want to do.”

“Then buy a place in the country and move it all out there!” Tim advised.

J.T. flushed all the more. “I am not giving up the home I shared with my late wife. All our memories are here.”

No one could argue with that. Cyndi and J.T. had been inseparable until the day she died.

Before her client could say anything else, Liz intervened again. Her voice soothing, she looked at him and murmured, “J.T., you and I need to talk about this. Let’s go inside.”

“Nope,” he said. He put his hands in front of him and glared at the two deputies. “I don’t want your visit to be wasted. You want to arrest me for disturbing the peace? Arrest me!”

Rio and Kyle exchanged beleaguered looks.

“Or do I have to hit something first?” J.T. taunted, picking up one of the staked flags, clearly ready to make good on his claim.

“That’s it.” Rio got out his handcuffs before J.T. could snap the stake in half. “You’re going to a holding cell to cool off.”

“Whatever.” He let them take the stake from him. “I’m still building the pool!” He glared at his neighbors defiantly, still spoiling for a fight. “And no one is going to stop me!”

A pitying silence fell.

J.T. looked at Liz as he was led away, hands cuffed behind him. “You want to do something?” he shouted over his brawny shoulder. “Get me a permit so I can build this pool!”

“He’s losing it,” Travis said as they got back in Liz’s car and followed the squad car to the sheriff’s station.

“He’s grieving. He loved his wife so much. To see Cyndi lose her battle with lung disease was more than he could bear. He has to have some outlet for his anger.”

“Meaning what?” Travis scoffed. “You think he should be able to follow through on his crazy plan and, while he’s at it, lower the property values of every house on the street?”

“It’s not about building a pool. It’s about paying tribute to his wife, lamenting his loss and getting over his guilt for all the things he didn’t give Cyndi. He wants her back, Travis.” He wants the love he lost. “He wants to rewrite the past, and he can’t do that, so he’s ticked off. I get it.”

A long silence fell. “You really feel for the guy.”

Liz forced herself to concentrate on driving, instead of on the handsome man in the passenger seat beside her. “I’ve always had a thing for the underdog, in any situation. You know that.”

“I’m not sure I’d call J.T. an underdog,” Travis countered quietly.

Liz frowned at the red light, her foot on the brake pedal. “He’s at a disadvantage because of his distraught emotional state. He’s picking battles no one in their right mind would ever expect him to win.”

“Which is why you’re so drawn to him,” Travis concluded as the light changed and the SUV began to move again. “Because you think you can claim victory.”

Feeling the heat of his gaze like a physical caress, Liz turned at the next street. “Not in the sense of getting him a tropical haven in his front yard. But if I could help him put his life back on track, and keep him out of serious legal trouble in the meantime, I’d be happy.”

Travis didn’t take his eyes off her. “You really care about him.”

Liz was suddenly feeling a little too aware of Travis. “I do. And I owe him.” She turned into a parking spot, cut the engine and turned to Travis in all sincerity. “A few years ago, my mom and grandmother were driving a truck full of baby calves to a ranch thirty miles north of the Four Winds when the truck broke down unexpectedly. It was a brutally hot day. They were out in the middle of nowhere. And there was nowhere they could safely put the cattle while they went for help. Nor could they just leave them in the blistering interior of the cattle car….”

She drew a deep breath, shook her head. “Angels must have been looking down on them, because right then J.T. drove by. He was on his way to a job himself—as a satellite installer—but he stopped to help. Not only did he get another cattle truck out there within minutes, he helped transfer the calves and then stayed with our truck until the tow service arrived. Had he not been there, had he not known just who in that particular area to call for help, we might have had a very different outcome.” Liz paused to let her words sink in. “J.T. is a good guy. He’s just going through a rough patch.”

Travis studied her, a combination of respect and admiration on his handsome face. “He’s lucky to have you in his corner.”

Liz warmed at the compliment. “Let’s just hope I can do something for him.”

“NO WAY,” RIO VASQUEZ SAID. “He’s spending the night in a holding cell. He can go in front of the judge in the morning.”

Liz squared off with the arresting officers. “Guys, come on….”

Kyle McCabe stood firm, too. “It’s for his own good. Besides, you saw him, Liz. J.T. was practically pleading with us to bring him in.”

Maybe, Liz thought, so he wouldn’t have to spend another night alone in the house he had shared with his beloved Cyndi.

Travis put a hand on her shoulder. “They’re right.”

Liz knew it. She just didn’t want to admit that everything she had said to J.T. about his behavior so far had been ineffective. She lifted a hand. “Fine. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.” The hours in between would give her time to think about what she wanted to say to the judge.

Travis and Liz walked out of the sheriff’s station. “So what now?” he asked, suddenly looking almost as restless as she felt.

She consulted her watch. It was only nine-thirty.

“It’s Friday evening,” Travis continued. “Do you have somewhere you need to be? Someone you need to see?”

His lack of subtlety was not lost on her.

He was trying to figure her out, the same way she’d been trying to get a handle on him. And his current legal problem.

Figuring it might help convince him to confide in her if they lightened up a little, she allowed herself to tease him back. “Why, Counselor, are you asking me if I have a date?”

He grinned at her exaggerated Texas accent. “I didn’t see any photos of a boyfriend at your office.” He paused, his eyes opaque. “Or the homestead, for that matter.”

Liz let out a long, careful breath. She slowed her steps, delaying the moment they would get back into her SUV. Suddenly, the space felt a tad too intimate.

She lifted her chin. “That’s because I don’t have one.”

“Which means what?” His eyes narrowed, he stepped close enough that she could smell the leather-and-soap scent of his hair and skin. “You’re not dating?” He reached up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re opposed to dating?”

When she didn’t answer, he met her gaze. “It’s nothing I couldn’t easily find out from someone else. I just thought …” His voice dropped another notch, in a way that sent heat slashing through her. “If the story is that we’re resuming our friendship, we ought to know the basic facts about each other.”

The woman in her wanted to keep up all the barriers. The attorney in her knew he was right. Plus, she was curious about him, too.

She resumed walking toward the parking lot behind the sheriff’s station while gazing up at the stars shimmering in the black velvet sky above. “I had a serious relationship a few years ago, when I was working in Dallas.” She shook off the unhappy memories. “We broke off our engagement by mutual agreement.”

Travis cocked his head and ran his gaze over her like a caress. “Are you still friends?”

“Not really.” She rummaged in her pocket for her keys, then hit the electronic keypad. The locks clicked; the interior lights went on. “It’s kind of hard to come back from something like that.”

He opened the driver’s door for her, stood waiting for her to get in. “And since …?”

The intensity of his regard had her whole body tensing. Liz adapted the casual attitude that perfectly summed up her nonexistent love life, the one that had the women in the family so worried she would never fall in love, never marry, never have a baby to carry on the Cartwright bloodline. “I’ve had the occasional date here and there.” She forced herself to meet his probing gaze. “What about you?”

He shrugged. It was, Liz thought, his turn to skillfully evade.

“I’d like to date. In theory. I just never seem to have the time.”

A lament voiced by many an associate at big law firms. “Not part of your one-, five- and ten-year plans?”

“Actually, marriage and family is. If I could ever figure out where I would work it in.”

That was a surprise, Liz thought. Travis had been so focused on his career, she hadn’t expected this was something he would want. She sized him up, wondering which allure would turn out to be stronger, his desire to live a more authentic, not so big-city life, or his desire to redeem his name and regain his former glory. “So when this is over, you plan to go back to working eighty-hour weeks….”

He shrugged, not about to commit yet, either way. “It is the norm for an associate in any big or midsize law firm,” he offered casually. “No matter where it is located.”

Liz knew that.

Lawyers in Lubbock who wanted fame and fortune—and the bank accounts that went with them—worked as hard as attorneys in Houston.

Fortunately, she had learned there were other, more important things in life.

Like feeling you made a difference.

She bit her lip, admitting, “Too many long hours are exactly why I quit my job at that firm in Dallas. I wanted more of a life outside the office.”

“And yet,” he murmured, playfully tapping the end of her nose, “here you are at 9:45 on a Friday night … lamenting your lack of a love life, same as me.”

Liz stiffened. Honestly, the man was taking far too much for granted. “I didn’t say I missed it,” she returned archly. Even if I have been wondering all evening long just how it would feel to kiss you….

“Really.” He lifted his eyebrows and waited for her gaze to meet his.

Indignation flushing her cheeks, Liz asserted, “I can live without sex.” Could he?

Travis grinned, as if he would like nothing more than to wear her down. “How about this?” he asked her softly. Grasping her waist, he tugged her against him. Threaded one hand through her hair, tilting her face to his. His mouth lowered seductively. “Can you live without a kiss?”

Chapter Four

Her mouth went dry. The practical side of Liz said Don’t kiss him. The romantic side of her insisted there was no harm in finding out if Travis Anderson still had the power to take her breath away as he had back in high school.

So instead of rebuffing him, she stepped into the fray. Allowed him to keep right on coming and lower his mouth to hers.

The first touch of their lips was astonishing. Electric. And oh so sweet. The first hint of subtle pressure was even more intoxicating.

Before Liz knew it, she had surrendered to the moment and moved all the way into his embrace. Her breasts brushed the hardness of his chest and her arms slipped around him.

Travis moved forward, too, sliding his palms down her hips and holding her against his body. Her softness melded to his strength and the kiss took on a quiet intensity that turned her whole world upside down.

Liz moaned, tilting her head to give him better access, relishing the sure sweep of his tongue tangling with hers.

She knew she had wanted him years ago, even if they were too young, too reserved, too focused on everything else to fully explore that yearning.

Turns out, the schoolgirl passion she’d experienced back then was nothing compared to what she felt now that they were all grown up.

Holding him like this, letting him hold her, was magic. And she knew if they kept it up—if they let this recklessly wild kiss continue—there would be nothing but regrets for both of them.

Shuddering, she clasped his shoulders and pushed him away. “We can’t do this.”

“Actually,” Travis teased, kissing her temple, her cheek, the lobe of her ear, “I think we were excelling in this venue….”

With her body still tingling everywhere they had touched—and everywhere they hadn’t—Liz took another step back and tried to regain her composure. “You’re my client.” She emphasized every syllable of every word.

He grinned sexily, not at all repentant. “Lucky for me. It’s the one good thing, besides a temporary job, I’ve got going for me at the moment.”

That was Travis all right, Liz thought in exasperation. Charging headlong into whatever awaited. Letting nothing stand between him and his goal.

Her heart racing, she tried again to talk sense into him. “We were kissing.” She held up a hand before he could interrupt. “And you and I both know that crossing the line this way will lead to nothing but trouble.”

His expression solemn, he gazed at her. “I agree,” he told her in a husky voice. “If we let this impact the way we conduct ourselves in terms of the business at hand, it will bring us bucketfuls of heartache. But that’s not going to happen over a kiss, Liz.” He leaned closer, his breath fanning her neck. “And you know why? Because we’re both lawyers. And we’re smart enough to be able to separate our private lives from our professional alliances.”

She had certainly thought that was the case up till now.

She’d never even been tempted before. But Travis had thrown her emotions into chaos, by kissing her for just a few minutes.

Deliberately, she put her lawyer hat back on. “Which makes our actions all the more foolish,” she retorted. “You have to know that.”

His gray eyes darkened. He looked a little bemused, and a lot cocky. “Actually,” he drawled, letting his gaze drift slowly over her face, “if you want to get technical—and it sounds like you do—there’s nothing in the Texas Bar Ethics Code or Texas law preventing me from having a relationship with you outside of your work on the lawsuit. Besides—” he shrugged, still not ready to give up on pursuing her “—with you at the helm, this case will be over before you know it.”

Liz appreciated Travis’s faith in her even as she worried that her success meant he would soon be leaving Laramie County.

Wishing her lips weren’t still tingling, she looked him straight in the eye. “That doesn’t mean it’s wise for us to revisit past mistakes. We’ve been down this road before.”

“As kids.”

Past hurt rushed to the fore. That didn’t mean they hadn’t crashed and burned. Or that she hadn’t felt incredibly dejected and cried into her pillow for weeks afterward.

Her lower lip trembled. “You broke up with me, Travis.”

He stood there, patient and ready, raring to turn back the clock. “Because there was too much of an age difference.” Exasperation colored his low tone. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And we weren’t right for each other then.”

“We’re still not.” She stepped back, not about to put her heart on the line, only to have it smashed to pieces. Again. “So let me be clear.” She slayed him with her best don’t-mess-with-me look. “I’m very happy to represent you. I’m glad you will be temporarily assisting my family and working on the Four Winds. But that, Counselor, is as far as it goes.”

“AT LEAST LET ME SEND YOU off with a cup of coffee and a couple of breakfast tacos,” Faye Elizabeth insisted at six the next morning.

Studiously ignoring the big male interloper sitting at the breakfast table, Liz simultaneously pulled on her suit jacket and checked her BlackBerry for messages.

She’d been up half the night, revisiting his kiss and her response to it, as well as everything that had happened years ago.

Travis, on the other hand, looked like he had slept great.

It figured.

She forced a smile and an attitude of nonchalance. “That would be wonderful.” Liz gave her grandmother a hug. “Thank you.”

Reba frowned, looking from Travis to her daughter and back again.

“What’s going on with the two of you?” she asked.

He kissed me and I responded, Liz thought. My goodness, how I responded …

It was a wonder she hadn’t melted into a puddle right there in the parking lot.

But not about to tell her family that, she shrugged, accepting with a murmur of thanks the breakfast her grandmother had packed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liz fibbed.

“Something happened,” Tillie concurred, a matchmaker’s gleam in her eyes.

“And why were the two of you in town together last night, anyway?” Reba pressed.

“How did you hear that?” Travis asked.

Liz had heard him say he had gone off to get his belongings. Which he had eventually done, after collecting his vehicle.

“One of my friends saw the two of you coming out of your office, late in the evening,” Reba declared.

Small towns. Nary a secret anywhere. At least that’s how it seemed….

“I want Travis to sign a temporary employment contract with the Four Winds,” Liz said, in all honesty.

He looked at her, in lawyer mode, as able to roll with the punches as she hoped. “I think it’s a good idea, too.”

Faye Elizabeth regarded them suspiciously. “You couldn’t have done that here?”

Clearly, she hoped to keep them apart, or well chaperoned as much as possible to prevent any further romance from developing.

“It’s easier doing business in my office,” Liz said.

Especially with all three other Cartwright women looking over their shoulders, speculating on what was and wasn’t happening between her and Travis.

“Unfortunately,” Travis interjected with a beleaguered smile, “Liz had an emergency with another client that called her away, and we didn’t finish. So we’ll have to go back to it at some point soon.”

They would, Liz realized reluctantly. Which would mean even more time spent alone with him.

Only this time there would be no kissing. She would make certain of it.

“That won’t keep you from checking the new calves in the pastures this morning, will it, Travis?” Reba asked in alarm.

“Not at all.” He finished his coffee and stood. “I’ll get right on it. Thanks for the fine breakfast. Ladies …” He grabbed his hat and strolled out.

“My oh my,” Tillie sighed, her hand fluttering above her heart.

“I quite agree,” Reba said, sizing up his departing image the same way she sized up the procreating powers of a bull for hire. “Having a man like that for your baby’s daddy …”

“Mom!” Liz said, flushing hotly.

“I’m just saying….” Reba eyed her matter-of-factly, in that instant every bit as goal-oriented as Travis. “You’re not getting any younger and we need a new generation of Cartwrights. Travis is here. He’s hot. He’s available.”

“Why not just go ahead and say it—he’s a stud!” Liz interrupted sarcastically.

“And he’s from prime breeding stock,” Reba continued, without skipping a beat. She lifted a palm. “The two of you wouldn’t even have to marry—”

“Of course they would marry,” Tillie exclaimed, her romantic sensibilities offended by the notion of them having a baby and not living happily ever after.

“A romance with a man who’s not going to stick around for the long haul is the last thing Liz needs,” Faye Elizabeth grumbled.

Tired of having her life decided for her, by everyone but her, Liz sighed and grabbed her briefcase and her breakfast. “I’m out of here,” she told one and all grouchily.

To her consternation, by the time she reached the parking area, Travis’s pickup truck was disappearing down a dirt road that traversed the ranch.

Figuring she could talk to him later, she headed for the Laramie County sheriff’s station.

“You have to stop picking fights with people,” Liz told J.T. when they met up in the courtroom.

Disheveled and exhausted from a night spent in the holding cell, he remained defiant. “People,” he returned cantankerously, “need to stop waging battles with me.”

“This isn’t what your late wife would want for you.”

He ignored her reference to his beloved Cyndi. “I want that pool.” He peered at Liz. “And I know you can figure out a way for it to happen.”

Talk about the impossible.

She sighed.

“Meantime, if I get community service for this, make sure it’s something outside,” J.T. continued. “I hate being cooped up.”

Liz tried another approach. “You don’t have to plead guilty to the misdemeanor charges. I can get them dropped if you’ll only agree to get some grief counseling.”

J.T. scowled. “You know how I feel about that.”

“Nothing is going to make your grief go away, I know,” Liz repeated his oft-muttered sentiment.

“Exactly.”

Figuring that, under the circumstances, community service couldn’t hurt, since it would get him out of the house, Liz did as he asked.

The guilty plea was entered; he was lectured by the exasperated judge and assigned twenty hours of community service cleaning up local streets.

An hour later, she was headed back to the office.

It was noon by the time she arrived at the ranch.

Pale gray clouds were obscuring the horizon. Reba, Tillie and Faye Elizabeth were in the midst of gathering up their purses—and raincoats, just in case.

“What’s going on?” Liz asked. Given the fact it was a Saturday, they could be headed anywhere.

Tillie stuffed her notepad and pen in her handbag. Reba grabbed the keys to her own SUV. “We’re making our monthly shopping trip to the warehouse club in San Angelo.”

Liz wished she’d had more notice. Not having any destroyed her ability to adequately adjust her own workload. Nevertheless, she had a responsibility here. “Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll go with you.”

“That would be great!” her grandmother said. “We’ll wait while you change clothes.”

Reba gave her mother a chiding look, then turned back to Liz. “Actually, honey, we need you here, helping Travis move the cattle from pasture 53 to 62.”

With ten thousand acres of ranch land and only some of it currently fit for grazing, moving cattle around could be quite a task.

To her consternation, Tillie quickly reinforced that sentiment. “I don’t care how good Travis is on horseback, he can’t do it alone, dear. Well, not efficiently, anyway. Not with all the newborn calves and their mamas.”

“I’d do it myself if my hip were up to getting in the saddle,” Reba said.

Liz knew that to be true. There was nothing her mother liked more than cowgirl activities.

Liz ignored Faye Elizabeth’s lingering disapproval. There was no use aggravating her mother’s sciatica when it was just starting to mend. “Of course I’ll help with the cattle,” Liz said. She turned to Faye Elizabeth. “You don’t need to worry. I can handle Travis.”

Her grandmother harrumphed. “See that you do.”

Through discussing her love life—or lack thereof—Liz continued, practically, “When will you-all be back?”

“Around dinnertime, if all goes as planned …”

The ladies took off, and Liz went up to change clothes. Grimly, she downed an energy bar, saddled up and headed out.

Travis was where they’d said he would be, in pasture 53. He was hardly alone.

Reins in hand, she cantered over to join him. “Who are your buddies?”

They hadn’t had ranch dogs for some time.

These two were beauties.

Mutts, to be sure, but gorgeous ones. Both fast and agile as could be.

“Meet Mud.” Travis pointed to the smaller one. He had a thick brown-white-and-black coat and looked to be part border collie, part beagle. “And Jet.” He indicated a glossy black Labrador retriever–German shepherd mix.

“Hey, fellas.” Liz smiled from her place in the saddle.

“I borrowed them from my parents’ ranch,” Travis said. “They’ve got about two dozen cattle dogs out there, so we can keep them as long as we want them. What brings you out here?”

“I was told you needed help moving cattle.”

His expression didn’t change in the slightest. Yet there was something in his gray eyes. Some small glimmer of bemusement …

Liz stifled a moan. “They knew you had the dogs helping you, didn’t they?”

Which made her assistance unnecessary, as there were only seventy-five mama cows, with fifty baby calves to date. A lot for Liz’s mom to handle on her own, but nothing for a cowhand as fit and experienced as Travis. Especially when he was accompanied by two well-trained herding dogs.

He shrugged lazily in response to her question. “Introductions were made. Plans announced.”

Liz bit down on an oath. “Tillie and my mom are matchmaking.”

“But not Faye Elizabeth.”

Liz shrugged. “Of all of us, she’s the one who worries the most. So, you take that, plus her past—growing up without a dad, losing her husband so quickly after they married then watching my mom lose hers—I just don’t think she can bear to see any of us experience that kind of heartbreak again.”

“Whereas Tillie …” Travis prodded.

“Is still deeply romantic.”

“And your mom?”

“Practical to a fault.” To the point Reba was angling to make Travis Liz’s baby daddy. But Travis didn’t need to know that.

His eyes gleamed. “I figured it was something like that.” Again, he wasn’t the least upset.

Liz swallowed. It didn’t matter how sexy he looked in the saddle with a cowboy hat pulled low over his brow. She was his lawyer; he was a ranch employee. Their agreement specified nothing about social activities between them. And for good reason. Their lives were already complicated enough.

Liz grabbed the reins and wheeled her horse around. “As long as I’m here, let’s get to it.”

The next hour was spent cutting the mama cows and their calves from the herd. While Jet and Mud ran back and forth, barking and chasing the cattle toward the gates, Travis and Liz sorted those with calves into pasture 62, the still-gestating cows into pasture 54.

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