Courteous, courageous and commanding—these heroes lay it all on the line for the people they love in more than fifty stories about loyalty, bravery and romance. Don’t miss a single one!

AVAILABLE FEBRUARY 2010

A Vow to Love by Sherryl Woods

Serious Risks by Rachel Lee

Who Do You Love? by Maggie Shayne and Marilyn Pappano

Dear Maggie by Brenda Novak

A Randall Returns by Judy Christenberry

Informed Risk by Robyn Carr

Five-Alarm Affair by Marie Ferrarella

AVAILABLE MARCH 2010

The Man from Texas by Rebecca York

Mistaken Identity by Merline Lovelace

Bad Moon Rising by Kathleen Eagle

Moriah’s Mutiny by Elizabeth Bevarly

Have Gown, Need Groom by Rita Herron

Heart of the Tiger by Lindsay McKenna

AVAILABLE APRIL 2010

Landry’s Law by Kelsey Roberts

Love at First Sight by B.J. Daniels

The Sheriff of Shelter Valley by Tara Taylor Quinn

A Match for Celia by Gina Wilkins

That’s Our Baby! by Pamela Browning

Baby, Our Baby! by Patricia Thayer

AVAILABLE MAY 2010

Special Assignment: Baby by Debra Webb

My Baby, My Love by Dani Sinclair

The Sheriff’s Proposal by Karen Rose Smith

The Marriage Conspiracy by Christine Rimmer

The Woman for Dusty Conrad by Tori Carrington

The White Night by Stella Bagwell

Code Name: Prince by Valerie Parv

AVAILABLE JUNE 2010

Same Place, Same Time by C.J. Carmichael

One Last Chance by Justine Davis

By Leaps and Bounds by Jacqueline Diamond

Too Many Brothers by Roz Denny Fox

Secretly Married by Allison Leigh

Strangers When We Meet by Rebecca Winters

AVAILABLE JULY 2010

Babe in the Woods by Caroline Burnes

Serving Up Trouble by Jill Shalvis

Deputy Daddy by Carla Cassidy

The Major and the Librarian by Nikki Benjamin

A Family Man by Mindy Neff

The President’s Daughter by Annette Broadrick

Return to Tomorrow by Marisa Carroll

AVAILABLE AUGUST 2010

Remember My Touch by Gayle Wilson

Return of the Lawman by Lisa Childs

If You Don’t Know by Now by Teresa Southwick

Surprise Inheritance by Charlotte Douglas

Snowbound Bride by Cathy Gillen Thacker

The Good Daughter by Jean Brashear

AVAILABLE SEPTEMBER 2010

The Hero’s Son by Amanda Stevens

Secret Witness by Jessica Andersen

On Pins and Needles by Victoria Pade

Daddy in Dress Blues by Cathie Linz

AKA: Marriage by Jule McBride

Pregnant and Protected by Lilian Darcy

If You Don’t Know By Now
Teresa Southwick

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TERESA SOUTHWICK

lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Silhouette Books.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 1

Maggie Benson’s jaw dropped.

She stared at the man standing five feet away and wanted to pinch herself—or him. Was she dreaming or hallucinating? Any second she expected to hear a rousing rendition of the Twilight Zone theme. The guy standing just outside her rodeo booth was the spitting image of Jack Riley. But that couldn’t be. They said everyone had a double, this must be his. Jack was a love-’em-and-leave-’em rogue she’d never expected to see again.

“Hello.”

Now she was hearing things. One word, and she knew his deep, gravel-roughened voice.

“Jack?”

“Yeah, Maggie.”

It was him. God help her—Jack Riley had returned. And she didn’t know whether to hug him or hit him.

Trembling started in her hands and spread to her legs, turning them the consistency of crème brûlée, the soft part just below the crunchy, crystallized top. As if that wasn’t bad enough, her heart pounded almost pain fully. Then her palms began to sweat, making a friendly handshake out of the question. But then, considering what they’d done ten years ago, shaking hands with sweaty palms was small potatoes.

The man standing close enough to reach out and touch had been her first time, something a girl never, ever, forgot. But she couldn’t say the same for him. He’d walked away and never looked back.

And, damn him, he was still so bad-boy handsome he trapped the breath in her lungs until her chest was near to bursting. Eyes as deep and blue as a field of Texas blue bon nets and fringed by in credibly thick, sooty lashes looked her up and down. He had the same black hair cut conservatively short—military short, she noted with a catch in her heart.

She hadn’t seen him since he’d left Destiny hardly more than a boy. It was ten years later and he was back—bigger, broader, built.

Jack Riley was a man.

“It’s good to see you, Maggie,” he said as she continued to stare.

How could he just disappear for ten years, then show up without warning at the North Texas High School Rodeo Championships? What was she supposed to say?

“Cat got your tongue?” he asked as if he could read her thoughts.

She shrugged, shook her head and extended her hands palms up in a completely helpless gesture. After all that, the best she could come up with was, “Wow.”

“That’s a start.”

He studied her with eyes that looked as if they had seen too much, as if they could laser all the way to her soul. If there was a God in heaven or any justice in the world, he wouldn’t be able to see her secret. Not now. Not yet.

“How’ve you been?” she asked.

“Fine. You?”

“Great.” Could this be more awkward?

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Probably because I feel that way.” She brushed her hands down the sides of her jeans and took a deep breath. “Earlier, I thought I saw you. I mentioned it to Taylor Stevens, but I figured I must have been mistaken. Ever since, I’ve had this weird, déjà vu-ish kind of feeling.”

“It was me.”

“Why didn’t you come over then?”

Instead of answering he picked up one of her business cards in the holder on the ledge of her booth. “This ’N That? Maggie Benson, owner?”

“It’s my shop. I opened it in downtown Destiny five years ago.”

“What kind of shop?”

“Collectibles, antiques, crafts. Souvenirs, shirts, hats, beaded purses. I’m in charge of selling the official T-shirt for the North Texas High School Rodeo Champion ships.” She picked one up and unfolded it, displaying the back for him. Why did her hands have to shake so? “See? All the kids’ names are on the back. I also personally embroider and paint jackets and T-shirts,” she said, indicating the samples hanging from the wooden walls of the booth.

She opened her mouth to say more, then caught the inside of her top lip between her teeth. Drastic situations called for severe measures. She really did need to stop babbling. It wasn’t her job to fill awkward silences. He’d turned his back on her. Let him do the talking.

“Impressive,” he commented, gazing at the scene on the back of a jacket, as well as the other goods arrayed on the wooden walls.

“Thanks.” She met his gaze, determined to see his one-word answer and not raise him.

He leaned a broad shoulder against the corner two-by-four holding up her booth. “Surprised to see me?” he finally asked.

Try shocked. Add dumb founded, amazed, astonished, disconcerted, then toss in a healthy dose of confusion and that might just about describe what she was feeling. A little surprised? Apparently sometime during the past decade he’d taken a crash course in the finer points of under statement. He might have thrown her for a loop, but wild horses couldn’t drag the nerves out of her—in spite of the fact that they were bucking through her like a spooked stallion.

Casually, she rested a hip against the wooden ledge mere inches from where he lounged. “Why would I be surprised to see you? You went to boot camp. We exchanged some letters. You disappeared without a trace.” She shrugged, struggling for non cha lance, but very afraid she’d failed miserably. “Happens all the time.”

“I’m not much of a letter writer.”

“Really? Your last one was pretty straight for ward. You dumped me.”

Along with a girl’s first love, she never forgot the details of her first broken heart. Maggie’d wadded up the one sheet of paper and tossed it into the trash, but certain phrases were forever branded on her mind.

Getting too serious. Not fair to you. Best to go our separate ways.

But she didn’t say any of that. It was ancient history. “If I remember correctly, you said your life was too unstable for a relationship with anyone.”

“Yeah.” His gaze slid away and he stared off into the darkness over her right shoulder. A muscle in his lean cheek contracted as his lips thinned into a straight line.

“I sent one more letter after that. It came back with Return to Sender in your hand writing. Not a single word from you since. Now here you are.” She lifted one shoulder in what she hoped was a carefree, un concerned gesture.

But she was very concerned. Her returned, unopened letter had come as a shock, followed quickly by panic and unbelievable pain. She’d been a scared teenager with a small problem that would get bigger by the month—not to mention raging hormones and a romantic streak a mile wide. She’d thought she loved him and would never stop. But she wasn’t a teenager any longer. Circum stances had forced her to grow up fast. And her romantic streak had been pounded, if not into sub mission, at least into realistic expectation based on past experience.

She’d learned that love did stop.

“I shipped out right after boot camp,” he said, then raised those broad, mouth-watering shoulders as if that explained everything.

“No need to apologize,” she said.

“That was an explanation.”

“Okay. But I’m not mad.”

“Oh?” The ghost of a smile flirted with the corners of his mouth.

She tossed her head in a careless gesture that swung her red curls around her face. “Don’t be silly. I’ll admit I was miffed for a while, but I got over it. Years ago. My life is together. I’m all grown up.”

“So I see,” he said.

His lips curved up then, turning the dimples in his cheeks into vertical lines on either side of his mouth. A look glittered in those blue eyes that started a quivering inside her the likes of which she hadn’t experienced in a decade. Damn it. Ten lousy years and no man had done this to her. Five minutes with Jack Riley and she was practically a puddle of goo at his feet. Still, she hung on to her composure as if it was the last handhold between her and a five-hundred-foot drop.

She folded her arms over her breasts, just in case her white T-shirt and bra didn’t hide the way her nipples stood at attention and saluted the fact that Jack Riley was back.

“So what have you been up to all these years?” she asked, putting just the right amount of chatty interest in her tone.

His face darkened, then went blank. It was as if he’d stepped beyond the light and back into the shadows. If he hadn’t just nearly cracked a smile, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the withdrawal. But he did and she had.

He looked at her card, still in his hand. “This and that,” he said.

Well, wasn’t he just a regular gusher of information, she thought. “When did you get into town?”

“Today.”

“What brought you back?”

“Personal business.”

“Oh?”

“And a news pa per story.”

She didn’t remember ever having to yank in formation from him like an impacted wisdom tooth. But then, when they’d managed to steal time together, talking hadn’t been tops on the To Do list.

The memories churned up by that thought brought heat flaring into her cheeks. Sneaking around to meet him. The feel of his strong arms tightly wrapped around her. Kissing as if she couldn’t get enough. It had been exciting, thrilling.

She lifted her chin slightly, to study him better. She hadn’t known him very well when he’d left, and she certainly didn’t know him now. If twenty questions was the way he wanted to play, she was just the gal for it. Because she had more than twenty questions she wanted to ask him.

“What story was that?” she asked.

“An article in a syndicated newspaper advertising the dates of the high school rodeo championships along with info about the new dude ranch Taylor Stevens is opening. There was a picture, too, of Mitch Rafferty and Dev Hart with Taylor.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Hmm?”

“That was a whole bunch of words strung together. Two whole sentences if I’m not mistaken. Compound sentences. Be still my heart.”

He tucked her business card into his shirt pocket. “Military training.”

“What about it?”

“Takes all the fun out of—” He stopped, his gaze dropping as if he’d revealed too much. Then all he added was, “Communication.”

“I guess I’d never make it in the military. Too communicative.”

“Magpie,” he said.

That one word wasn’t enough to tell her if he was being thoughtful, wistful or just plain sad. His expression was wiped clean of emotion. What was he thinking? Feeling? Anything? The Jack she’d known had been easy to read—once she’d gotten past his rebellious, bad-boy facade to find the gentle, caring teddy bear underneath. That guy had worn his heart on his sleeve, as much as any teenager could. She’d been able to read him easily. But they hadn’t connected until the last couple of weeks in his senior year, after he’d already signed his recruitment contract.

If he hadn’t gone into the army, what would have happened? she wondered. Would they be together now? Or would some tart have stolen his heart? Her stirring memories of his not-very-well-concealed emotions swung the flood gates of her curiosity all the way open.

“So, tell me what you’ve been up to,” she repeated casually.

“I travel a lot. I’m never in one place very long.”

“Why?”

For the second time he ignored a direct question. But this time he grinned, his first genuine no-holds-barred smile. The effect was enough to knock Maggie on her backside and she couldn’t make herself care that he hadn’t answered her. If there’d been a spot light on his mouth at that precise moment, the resulting brillisant glare off his straight, white teeth would have folks blinking their eyes and reaching for their sunglasses. God help her, she was reaching for her heart and hanging on to it with both hands.

“What?” she asked as he continued to look at her.

“Just the same straight-talking Maggie.”

Not quite the same, she thought.

“So you’re never in one place for long? The military?” she guessed, and his nod con firmed it. “Do you miss your dad?”

“Not much. Not anymore.”

His father had passed away five years ago. A heart attack. She’d heard Jack had come back to help his grand mother handle the details. But Maggie had been out of town, on vacation with her folks in Florida. She hadn’t seen him and had been relieved and sorry in equal parts. She’d chalked it up to destiny.

Suddenly a thought struck her about the “personal business” he’d returned for this time. And she realized that, for a while, a part of her had always expected him to show up. When he hadn’t, she’d let it go. Which was why seeing him tonight had come as such a shock.

“I’m sorry about your grand mother. We missed you at the funeral. More than half the town came. I’m sorry you couldn’t make it.”

Another shadow crossed his face. “Me, too.”

“Why weren’t you there?”

“I was…working.”

The slight hesitation and pain in his voice told her a lot. “Dottie said she didn’t hear from you much. That personal messages don’t get through when you’re involved in a project.”

“Yeah.”

“But she died six months ago. That’s a pretty long time. What kept you?”

He lifted one shoulder. “I missed the funeral. After that, it didn’t matter when I got back.”

“Some job. Dottie also said that it sucked you in like a black hole.”

“Gran had a way with words,” he said sadly.

“She loved you, too. And was very proud of the fact that you serve your country. I was very fond of her.”

Five years ago she’d opened her shop and moved out of her parents’ home into an apartment. Three and a half years later she’d found her very own affordable house right next door to Jack’s grandmother’s. For a year and a half Dottie Riley’s home-baked cookies, pies and zucchini bread—not to mention friend ship and wisdom—had been very precious to Maggie.

The older woman had always gone to great lengths to make sure Maggie had known that Jack wasn’t involved in a relationship. She’d taken a certain sat is faction in that. Maggie had adored her. So had Faith.

Her daughter. And his. Maggie had tried to tell him and would have if he hadn’t disappeared. She’d eventually decided it was best to not say anything. Although she probably should tell him now. But it wasn’t something she could just blurt out. Besides, based on past history, he probably wasn’t planning to stay in Destiny. He would take care of Dottie’s estate, then head out. This time for good since he had no family here.

Correction: no family that he knew about.

Her gaze scanned the rodeo crowd in search of her daughter’s curly black hair. A while ago Faith had been in the stands with Sheriff Grady O’Connor, his twin girls and Jensen Stevens. Looking in the same place where she’d last seen them, Maggie spotted the sheriff, but everyone else was gone.

“Where’d they go?” she muttered, craning her neck.

“Who?” he asked, half turning to see where she was looking.

“The three little girls I’m keeping my eye on,” she said vaguely. “They’ve been flitting around those stands like bees looking for pollen.”

“What do they look like?” he asked.

Maggie wanted to say, “One has your eyes and hair color, combined with my curls.” Fortunately good sense prevailed.

“Two are identical—Grady’s twins. The other one is wearing blue jeans and a neon-pink T-shirt.”

He scanned the bleachers. Maggie had the feeling that his scrutiny was methodical and re lent less, as if he were stalking his prey through a pair of binoculars. She shivered at the thought. There was an alert intensity about him that she didn’t remember. She wondered what had happened to him in the years since she’d last seen him.

“Nothing.”

“Me, either. Darn it. Just a while ago, a man approached them. A stranger.”

“It’s championships,” he said. “There’s bound to be people you don’t recognize.”

“I know. But this guy just gave me a bad feeling. Go ahead and laugh.”

He shook his head. “I’ve learned to never under estimate gut instinct.”

“Okay.”

How had he learned? She was curious but wouldn’t ask any more than she would explain the odd sensations she’d had all night—after catching a glimpse of him. When Taylor Stevens had stopped by her booth, Maggie had shared the fact that she was creeped out. That ever since Mitch Rafferty had returned to Destiny, it was as if the past was catching up with all of them.

She’d teased that he was a cosmic catalyst, and wasn’t so sure that it wasn’t the truth. Just then the sheriff had joined the girls and the stranger had disappeared. Now that she couldn’t see the girls, Maggie’s bad feeling kicked up again, this time into over drive.

At that moment she spotted Taylor’s sister, Jensen, strolling by the booth. “Jen?”

The stunning green-eyed brunette stopped and looked. “Hi, Maggie.” She walked over to the booth. “You look familiar,” she said to Jack.

“Jack Riley,” he said.

“Now I remember.” She slid Maggie a look that said she approved of her taste in men. Then Jensen looked more closely and asked, “What’s wrong, Maggie?”

“I saw you in the stands with the girls a little while ago, Jen. Did you see which way they went?”

She nodded. “I think Kasey and Stacey were on their way to the refreshment stand. Faith was headed in the direction of the stock pen.”

“Doggone it. That girl doesn’t have the good sense God gave a grass hop per.” She met Jack’s intense gaze and tried to tamp down her reaction. The last thing she wanted was him questioning anything until she had a chance to think this through.

“I’m sure Faith is fine,” Jensen assured her.

“Do me a favor, Jen? Watch my booth while I see what’s what?” Maggie opened the wooden door as she spoke.

“Sure,” the other woman answered, changing places with her. “I’ll do the best I can to hold down the fort.”

“Don’t worry. It was busy before the rodeo events started but now it’s slow. Intermission is almost over so you shouldn’t have a problem. I’ll be back in a few. Thanks, Jen. ’Bye, Jack,” she said, starting off in the direction of the stock pen.

“I’ll go with you.” He fell into step beside her.

“That’s not necessary,” she answered, hurrying to keep up with his long-legged stride.

It briefly crossed her mind to sprint away. But he had her on height, six foot one to her five foot two. And with those thick ropy thigh muscles rippling beneath his denim jeans, she didn’t have a prayer of out running him. Besides, he would wonder why and probably ask. And she couldn’t give him an answer.

When they reached the stock pen, the smell of hay and dust was strong. In spite of the haze kicked up by the animals, she had no trouble spotting Faith at the far end of the enclosure. True to form, the girl was perched precariously on the top rung of the fence, watching the activity. She faced outward, her bottom hanging over the slat, on the animal’s side. Maggie’s bad feeling just got worse.

“Faith,” she called when they were a few feet away. “Get down from there.”

The little girl saw her and started to wave, using her whole body to do it. “Hi—”

The next thing Maggie knew, her child had lost her balance and was tumbling backward into the wooden steer enclosure. Everyone’s attention was on rodeo commissioner Mitch Rafferty, standing with a microphone in the center ring. Nobody close to Faith had noticed her fall.

“Oh, God—” Maggie’s heart leaped into her throat. She felt as if she were trapped in a night mare, trying to wade through hip-deep honey to get to her daughter.

But Jack didn’t hesitate. Without a word he jumped onto the middle rung of the fence, then swung himself over and into the pen. He slapped the rumps of the milling steers to move them out of the way. In the next instant he scooped Faith up into his arms and turned his back, putting his body between the little girl and the nervous animals tossing their wide heads with the dangerous horns. Seconds later he climbed back over the fence, still holding the child.

With her arm around his strong neck, Faith smiled at Jack. “Thanks, mister.”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Then Faith spotted her. “Maybe not. But it’s okay if you put me down now. It’s time for me to suffer dire consequences.”

“Are you hurt?” Maggie took her daughter by her upper arms and checked her freckled face for bumps and bruises. Fortunately, she didn’t find any. There were red spots on her pink shirt, but that was a cherry snowcone stain. The worst of the ordeal seemed to be the muck and straw mixed with dust that stuck to the backside of her britches.

“She’s okay.” Jack scanned the crowd. “But I think we should find her folks.”

Faith’s blue-eyed gaze—Jack’s eyes—swung from Maggie back to him. “You can stop looking for my folks,” the child said.

“What?” he asked, sounding puzzled.

“It’s just Mom and she’s right here.”

Maggie flinched and glanced all the way up at him. His face was still care fully blank, but he tensed, as if every cell and nerve in his body had gone on high alert. She noted a vague feeling of sat is faction that she’d finally been able to detect any reaction at all in him. Unfortunately her hope that he would have no comment was swiftly shattered.

“‘Mom’?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

Chapter 2

Maggie had a kid? A little girl.

Jack wasn’t sure why that surprised him, but it did. He’d thought about her over the years. Visions of her red curls and hazel eyes had crept into his mind at the weirdest times. Not to mention her sweet, lush lips that had done things to him he would never forget.

But he wasn’t a dope. She’d hardly been more than a girl when he’d left. He’d known she would grow up, and grow up fine, but he’d never pictured her with a kid.

“This is my daughter, Faith,” she said, hesitating slightly.

Most people wouldn’t have noticed that she missed a beat. But he wasn’t most people. He was a career soldier whose life and the lives of his men depended on him noticing even the slightest twitch. He was the computer expert, a military operative in the field who got the job done. So he noticed that Maggie was nervous and trying to hide it.

“Sweetie,” she said to the girl, “this is Jack Riley—G.G. Dot’s grandson. He’s an old friend of mine.”

“He doesn’t look old,” the little girl commented, glancing shyly at him.

Maggie slid him a slightly un com fort able look. “I meant that I’ve known him for a long time.”

“Then how come I never met him before?”

“I’ve been gone,” Jack said. In more ways than one, he thought. G.G. Dot? Must be some nickname she’d come up with for Gran. “Hi, Faith. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

The child put her smaller one in his. “Nice to meet you. Why did you go away?”

“Sweetie, it’s not polite to ask questions.”

Since when? A few minutes ago Maggie had asked whatever popped into her mind. Grilled him like a raw hamburger. If he had a dollar for every time she’d said the word why, he would be on his way to financial security. He studied the two—the kid’s hair and eyes were different. But she had Maggie’s stubborn, confident stance. And curiosity. She was definitely a Maggie in the making. Like mother, like daughter.

Faith’s beautifully shaped little mouth puckered in a familiar pout. It looked suspiciously like an expression he remembered from her mother, a decade ago.

“How am I s’posed to get to know him if I don’t ask questions?” the kid asked.

“She has a point,” he said to Maggie. Although he wondered if he should tell the girl that when she actually got to know him, she wouldn’t like what she found. Nah. He wouldn’t be here that long. What could it hurt to let her keep looking at him as if he were a hero? “I joined the army,” he explained. “I’m on leave.” When she turned a puzzled frown on him, he added, “It’s like vacation.”

“Do you hafta go back?”

“Yes.”

For some reason he felt compelled to answer her questions. Was it those big blue eyes looking at him as if he was ten feet tall? Or was it something about being back in Destiny? Something that brought out memories he’d tried to forget.

Like Maggie. And the way she’d felt in his arms with her mouth soft against his.

“So you’re officially still in the military?” Maggie asked.

He nodded. “I’m here to sell Gran’s house.”

“You’re leaving soon, then,” she said.

“Probably.”

Did he see relief in her eyes? Why would she care if he stayed or left? She had once, but that was a long time ago. He hadn’t intended to look her up while he was in town. As he’d passed by earlier, hidden in the milling crowd, he’d spotted her bright-red curls. Speaking to her had been the furthest thing from his mind, but something about her had drawn him like a beacon. She was a beckoning spot of color in his black, white and gray world.

Was it her hair, the shade of stub born ness? Her huge eyes—not quite green or brown, but with flecks of gold tossed into the mix. Maybe it was that tempting little body any red-blooded man would yearn to hold. She was compact and curvy. And her snug white T-shirt with the rodeo logo didn’t hide much. He hadn’t missed the way she’d crossed her arms over her chest earlier. It was the first time in a long time he was grateful he had an eye for detail.

What had compelled him to walk over to say hello? Maybe the way she caught her full bottom lip between her teeth—he remembered she did that when she was nervous—and she was doing it now. But none of the above explained why a man trained to endure and deflect interrogation had felt compelled to answer a little girl’s questions. Not one training session had included techniques on resisting a child with big blue eyes and her mother’s curls.

“Where did you go?” Faith asked him.

With an effort he pulled his thoughts from Maggie’s sweet little shape and full sexy mouth to look at the girl. “Hmm?”

“You said you’ve been gone. Where?”

He stuck his fingertips into the pockets of his denims. “Every where.”

Maggie turned a stern look on the girl. “Faith, the rodeo is almost over. I need you to help me pack up. Then it’s home for you and bed.”

“But, Mo-om, I’m not ready.”

“I don’t recall asking if you were ready. It’s time to go.”

“But school’s out.”

“I have to work tomorrow. And you’ve got to go to camp.”

Jack wanted to tell the kid to just do it. In the army, a soldier never argued with a direct order. But this wasn’t the military. Civilian life made him feel like a hick at a tea party.

Faith kicked the dirt and defiantly looked at her mother. “But I didn’t get to thank Jack yet. He saved my life.”

That reminded him. Right after he’d plucked her out of the stock pen, the kid had said something odd. “What are ‘dire consequences’?” he asked her mother.

“What?” Maggie looked at him as if he had two heads. “I think you know what the words mean.”

“Yeah. But what specifically. When I picked her up, she saw you and said it was time to suffer dire con sequences.”

Maggie laughed, a merry, musical, sound that bumped up against his ice-cold soul. He swore he could almost hear the sound of breaking glass, and the sensation of fresh, cool air against his hot skin. He must be losing his mind—along with the rest of himself.

Amused, Maggie shook her head. “The last thing I said to her was that if she didn’t stay within sight of the booth, she was going to suffer dire consequences,” she explained.

“So what is that?” he asked. Just curious, he told himself. It wasn’t like he felt any sympathy for the kid. He’d just met her. And she’d argued with a direct order from her commanding officer. He supposed that was normal for a kid. But he wouldn’t know about that; he didn’t do the kid thing.

But he did do consequences and he’d seen too many since he’d left Destiny. Enough to last him two life times. Pain, suffering and death. He could never forget. He couldn’t help wondering what this beautiful, innocent little girl considered dire—as far as consequences in her safe world were concerned.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Maggie met his gaze as she caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth—again. She was pretty nervous about something, he thought. “But thanks for reminding me.”

“I couldn’t have reminded you if Faith hadn’t mentioned it,” he pointed out. He was trying to help the kid while at the same time struggling to ignore the way Maggie’s nervous habit made him want to taste her mouth.

Would she cut the kid some slack for voluntarily bringing it up? What kind of disciplinarian was she? He’d heard that when people who broke the rules as kids had kids of their own, they tended to act like a dictator trying to prevent a military takeover. He remembered teenage Maggie sneaking out to meet him. She’d been a good kid and he’d been her walk on the wild side. Her chance at defiance. But it had meant a lot to him. It was personal. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had made a loner like him personal.

They’d gone to the same high school, and both rodeoed. Her parents had for bid den her to see him because of his bad-boy reputation. They’d been right, but that hadn’t stopped stubborn, hard headed Maggie Benson. And he still couldn’t help being glad about that. Did Maggie’s daughter take after her? Or her father?

That pulled him up short as a lassoed calf. Who was Faith’s father?

The question stirred something inside him, the ashes of feelings that had burned out a long time ago.

Maggie put her hands on her hips. “Faith Elizabeth, go stay with Jensen Stevens until I come and get you. If you don’t—”

“I know,” the girl mumbled, digging the toe of her grungy white sneaker into the red dirt. “Dire con sequences.”

“That’s right,” Maggie con firmed. “Don’t make me tell you what they are.”

With head hanging and her hands in her pockets, the kid started to walk away. Stopping suddenly, she turned and smiled, a punch-to-the-gut beautiful smile that was one hundred percent her mother. “Thanks, Jack—”

“Mr. Riley,” her mother corrected.

“Captain Riley,” he clarified. “But Jack is okay.”

Faith slid her mother a slightly rebellious look. “It was nice to meet you, Jack. Thanks for saving me. I hope I see you again. ’Bye.”

“’Bye,” he answered.

He watched Maggie watch her daughter. “How old is she?” he asked.

Her shoulders visibly tensed. She took a deep breath, then slowly released it. “Nine.”

He did the math and his heart stuttered for a moment. Then he shook his head. Maggie would have told him. He remembered her saying she’d gotten over him. Must have been right away. Because up until then, she’d filled every letter with how much she loved and missed him. She must have met someone who’d made her forget about him right after she’d gotten her letter back, the one he’d marked Return to Sender. He’d wanted her to forget about him and move on. He had no right to feel anything because she’d done just that.

So why did he have to remember that just before he’d left, they’d been as physically close as a man and woman could be? She’d insisted on giving herself to him even though he’d tried to make her see that she was too young. In his gut he’d known being with her that way was wrong. But stubborn Maggie had dug in her heels and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It would have taken more will power than he possessed to turn away from the temptation she was back then. Still was, he corrected.

He found it oddly comforting that some things didn’t change. She was a unique combination of spirit, sex appeal and sass.

And she’d written that she loved him and always would. Now he’d discovered that her declarations had been short-lived. But, even if he wished it could have been different, he wasn’t entitled to regrets. He’d made his bed ten years ago and he had to suffer the con sequences. A woman like Maggie and a child like Faith would never be possible for an empty-hearted man like him.

But he couldn’t help wondering where the girl’s father was. Maggie had asked him what he’d been up to for the past ten years. He’d wanted to know if there was anyone special in her life. But he hadn’t inquired.

His training hadn’t included polite social skills. It had been more along the lines of three hundred ways to kill a man with his bare hands. Or how to fit in without drawing attention to himself.

“Nine years old,” he repeated. He catalogued the expression on Maggie’s face and figured she probably didn’t even realize she looked defensive. The expression was identical to Faith’s when she’d decided her back was against the wall and she’d best do what her mother said. “She reminds me of you.”

“Really?” She looked surprised, and relieved. “How?”

“Spirited. Willful. beautiful.”

He hadn’t meant to say that. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said anything without calculating first.

Pink deepened in her cheeks, but she met his gaze dead-on. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But I didn’t think you were married.”

“I don’t recall you asking,” she countered.

He nodded toward her left hand. “No wedding band.”

“Ah,” she said. “You thought right. I’m not married.”

“Divorced?”

She hesitated. “No.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s got to be one or the other, Maggie.”

“No, it doesn’t. Not if I’ve never been married.” She didn’t look away and her small, pointed chin lifted slightly in the same rebellious gesture that he’d just seen on her daughter.

So she’d had Faith outside of marriage vows. That must have fried her folks, as protective as they were. What about the rest of the people in town? Had they been rough on her? She’d said her business had been around for five years, so if they had been, it was ancient history.

But damn it, that thinking was all a smoke screen. Typical of the cold hearted man he’d become, he couldn’t stop the feeling of satisfaction that she’d never married. But that meant she’d done it alone—not the conceiving part, the raising part. And it ticked him off that a guy would use Maggie, then walk out on her.

“Do I know her father?” It was none of his business, but he couldn’t stop the question.

Her face went white. “No one knows her father.”

“Not exactly. You do.”

“I’ll clarify. I’ve never told anyone who her father is.” Her hands were shaking.

“Not ever? Not even your folks?” He found that hard to believe.

“Not a soul.” Color flushed back into her cheeks, but again he admired the fact that she didn’t look away.

He wanted to ask why she’d kept such sensitive information to herself. He wanted to demand that she tell him the guy’s name so he could make the creep sorry for deserting her. But he didn’t ask questions. If anyone under stood the necessity of keeping a secret, it was him.

“Guess you’ve got your reasons” was all he could say.

The whole time they’d been talking, spectators had been wandering by. Jack had been aware of announcements over the public address system. From time to time, static crackled in the night air. Now he heard a female voice say, “I love you, Mitch.”

“That sounded like Taylor,” Maggie said.

Jack glanced at the bleachers and noticed that all the spectators were turned to watch Mitch Rafferty and Taylor Stevens in the corral. He recognized them from the news pa per photo he’d told Maggie about. A buzz started in the crowd. After several moments it got louder and more wide spread. Finally he figured out what they were repeating over and over— “Kiss her.”

At that moment a big burly cowboy lugging a saddle walked behind Maggie and pushed her forward. Automatically Jack’s arms went around her to keep her from falling. The man’s mumbled apology penetrated part of Jack’s consciousness. But it was the very small part not taken up with wondering if an all-grown-up Maggie tasted different. The crowd was chanting even louder now and far be it from him to singlehandedly curb mob rule.

He stared into Maggie’s wide eyes. She swallowed once, and ran her tongue along her top lip. The movement was like kerosene to the sparks of his aware ness. He went hot all over. Discipline had been his middle name for the last ten years. But a short time with Maggie had sent his self-restraint into the dumper. For the life of him, he couldn’t seem to care.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he lowered his mouth to hers. The sweet ness of it mustered a moan deep in his chest. He slid his arm around her waist and settled her more securely against him. He traced her bottom lip and her mouth opened, allowing him access.

He dipped inside the moist, honeyed interior. With her breasts pressed against him, he felt the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Satisfaction sluiced through him. This was a replay from all those years ago and felt even better now than it had then. He could still turn her warm and willing in his arms with just a touch. He lifted his head and opened his eyes in time to see that Faith had disobeyed orders.

“I guess that’s how you thank him for saving me,” she said.

“Faith,” Maggie gasped, then pushed against his chest, urging him to release her.

He let her go and side by side they both met the gaze of her daughter.

“I—I thought I told you to stay at my booth,” Maggie managed to get out.

Jack heard the slightly breath less quality to her voice and, God help him, couldn’t stop the intense feeling of pleasure that coursed through him at the sound.

“Mo-om, you said to stay with Jensen.”

“She’s at the booth,” Maggie said.

“No, she’s not,” the child answered.

“Who’s manning the booth?”

“Ronnie Slyder’s mom.”

“Where’s Jensen?” Maggie demanded.

Faith rolled her eyes. “In the stands.”

Maggie rested her hands on her hips. “Why aren’t you with her as ordered?”

“I was. But now she’s talking prudence with Sheriff O’Connor,” she said.

“Juris prudence?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah. That’s what Jensen called it.” She frowned. “But the sheriff is mad about something.”

“What?” Maggie asked.

The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. He said something about being served. But he didn’t have any food.”

“Was it about papers?”

“Yeah, I think he mentioned some papers.”

“How did you figure that out?” Jack questioned.

Maggie met his gaze. “Some times you have to read between the lines. Jensen is an attorney now. I understand she’s taking some time off from her Dallas job and is staying with her sister Taylor on the ranch.”

“Good information. I’m going to need some legal help with Gran’s estate,” he said. “Although I don’t think it’s complicated and wouldn’t take much of her time.”

“She’d probably be happy to give you a hand.”

“I want to go home, Mom.”

“Okay.”

“Then I guess this is goodbye.” Again, he thought. And probably for the best after that kiss. She’d given him a cheap lesson. She always could make him forget himself before he could say damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead. Which was why he’d returned her letter ten years ago. He’d had an opportunity to be good at something and needed to cut any personal ties that weren’t family. He hadn’t trusted himself to resist any request she would make to get back together.

A feeling of loneliness surrounded him, a sensation he hadn’t ever felt before. The last time he’d said goodbye to Maggie, he’d had high hopes for making something of his life. Now he couldn’t shake the feeling he should have grabbed hold of her and hung on for all he was worth.

“Where are you staying, Jack?” Maggie put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and her knuckles went white.

“Gran’s house.”

“Then it’s not goodbye.”

“What do you mean?”

“Faith and I live next door. It’s more like, ‘Howdy, neighbor.’”

Chapter 3

Maggie rubbed her gritty, sleep-deprived eyes then stared for the umpteenth time at her stalled computer monitor. If she could have frozen her mind as solid as that screen, she’d have slept like a baby last night instead of tossing and turning and thinking about Jack Riley. Worrying the tie of her light weight cotton robe, she decided having this technical problem to focus on was a blessing in disguise. The silver lining to her Jack Riley cloud. Technical glitches almost took her mind off the fact that Wild Jack was back. She was nearly frustrated enough to overlook all the possible ramifications of that fact.

“Control, Alt, Delete works for everything,” she said to the screen and put action to the words. When there was no change, she sighed and shook her head. “Why should this be different from the rest of my life? I’m so together even my computer is frozen.”

Then, being Maggie, she went from the general to the specific. Specifically that kiss. Why had he done it?

She’d heard nothing from the man for ten years, then he shows up and kisses her. What’s she supposed to do with that? For one thing, she had to tell him the truth about Faith.

There was a soft tap on the front door and she figured her hearing must be as tired as her eyes. It was the crack of dawn—way too early for anyone to show up at her door. Even her daughter the early bird was still asleep.

Maggie padded barefoot to the front door. Standing on tiptoe, she peeked through the peephole and recognized Jack. Instantly she moved out of sight, as if he could see her, and pressed her back to the door, trying to control her hammering heart. What was he doing here? For several moments she toyed with the idea of not answering. He didn’t know her routine. For all he knew, she and Faith could be gone. Then she remembered the evidence of her presence was parked in the driveway. Real soon she was going to have to clean out her garage so she could get her car in there.

But she could still be asleep for all he knew. Then she sighed. Cowardice wasn’t her stock in trade. Sooner or later she had to face him. Wouldn’t it be best to get it over with?

She removed the chain lock and dead bolt and opened the door. Smiling she said, “Good morning, Jack.”

“Maggie.”

“You’re up early.”

He nodded. “I don’t need much sleep.”

“Wish I could say that.” She looked up at him—way up—and pulled her cotton robe more snugly across her bosom. For a man who got by on little sleep, he looked awfully good. His hair was short and she couldn’t tell if he’d combed it or not. She tried to picture him in uniform, but the thought wouldn’t focus. She’d only ever seen him dressed as he was now—smooth worn jeans and a white T-shirt. The sleeves snugly surrounded his bulging biceps, the soft clingy material molded to the muscles and contours of his impressive chest.

“How did you know I was awake?” she asked.

“Heard your slider open a little while ago.”

The man must have ears like one of those very perceptive wild animals whose survival depended on their keen sense of hearing. She’d have to remember that. “What can I do for you?”

Tell him, the good angel perched on her right shoulder insisted. He has a right to know.

The devil on her left shoulder chimed in, It isn’t your fault he never received your letter. He dropped out of sight.

True, she thought, very much liking that left-shoulder devil. The problem was, he was in her sight now, and he had a right to know.

“Can I borrow some coffee? If you’ve got extra?”

It would be so easy to give him enough grounds for a pot and send him on his way. But for the life of her, Maggie couldn’t do it. Before she thought it to death, or turned into one of those scary characters who answered the voices in her head, she made up her mind.

“I can do better than that. Would you like a cup of already brewed coffee?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Come on in.” After he did, she closed the door and locked it again. “Follow me. The kitchen is this way.”

Feeling self-conscious in her flimsy night clothes, she led the way through her living room to her kitchen at the back of the house. Shorty pajamas barely concealed by a thin cotton robe wasn’t exactly proper attire for receiving gentle man guests. Then again, Jack had seen her in a lot less ten years ago. Did that really count now?

She reached into the cupboard, annoyed because she hadn’t arranged the cups on a lower shelf. She had the worst feeling that she was getting “cheeky” with the man from her past. In spite of it, she refused to give in to the sensation by pulling at the hem of her robe. But her cheeks—the ones on her face—burned.

With her back to him still, she busied herself with pouring steaming black coffee into a large mug. If she was lucky, by the time she was finished she’d have a cooling off period and could turn to look at him with her dignity shored up.

“Here you go,” she said, handing him the cup. “Do you need milk or sugar?”

He shook his head, then blew on the coffee. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He looked around her kitchen. “This is nice. Homey.”

She followed his gaze. Oak cabinets above and below a beige ceramic-tiled counter filled two walls. At the end closest to the family room there was a matching built-in desk holding her computer. Beyond that, was the open slider to her backyard, letting in air that was the coolest it would be all day. A tiny butcher-block island stood in the center of the room.

“I like it,” she said. “The best part is, I made it happen all by myself.”

Could she have sounded more defensive? she wondered. She looked at Jack to see if he’d noticed. He was watching her, but she couldn’t read his expression. Only once last night had she been able to detect a stirring of emotion in him, when she’d introduced her daughter. Maggie didn’t have any problem deciphering her own reaction to him.

Sooty shadows of stubble sprinkled his cheeks and jaw, clueing her that he hadn’t shaved yet. How intimate was this? Sharing coffee with a man in her kitchen before his morning shave, as if… Don’t go there, Maggie, she ordered herself.

She dated occasionally, but she’d be lying if she said she’d ever seen a more masculine man in her kitchen. Last night at the rodeo, her attraction had kicked in instantly and she’d chalked it up to a dream like quality connected to the night. But it was morning now and the sun was up. With his dusting of whiskers and hair tousled from sleep, Jack Riley was still the best-looking dream she’d ever had. The handsomest man she’d ever seen.

And she was the woman who had a secret he had a right to know.

Maggie stood with her back to the counter and Jack leaned a shoulder against the wall that separated kitchen and family room. As they sipped their coffee, an awkward silence developed between them. In the old days they’d had ways to fill the silence—ways having everything to do with mouths and tongues and frantic hands that couldn’t touch each other enough. Did he remember?

Jack met her gaze for a moment and stuck the fingertips of his free hand into his jeans’ pocket. “Maggie, I—”

“Hmm?”

“I want to explain what happened.”

“What? When?”

“Ten years ago. Why I didn’t come back.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yeah, I do.”

She nodded, then blew on her coffee. “Okay. What about it?”

“You probably don’t remember the letter I wrote.”

Her breath caught at the instantly recalled pain of the words he’d written. Go on with your life…. Not fair to you…. Can’t ask you to wait.

“Refresh my memory,” she said, then sucked air into her lungs.

“I had certain—skills and qualifications my commanding officer recognized and tapped. I was recommended for Special Forces. A mission.”

“How nice for you.”

He sipped his coffee, covering any reaction to her sarcasm. “They hand-picked the candidates and each was chosen on the basis of qualifications and no personal ties.”

Just the one you turned your back on because you didn’t know. And the one you over looked because you did, she silently amended.

“Go on,” she urged.

“They encouraged us to sever any ties we could because the mission was dangerous. We didn’t know if we’d make it back.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah.”

He stared into his coffee at things only he could see. A muscle in his cheek contracted and somehow she knew his memories were painful ones.

“And you didn’t get in touch,” she added.

He met her gaze then but she couldn’t see past the shadows. “I knew it wouldn’t be the last mission. Personal relationships weren’t encouraged.”

“I see.”

“My career took off.”

“Congratulations.”

“I found something I was good at, Mags.”

“And what is that?” she asked.

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”

She knew he was joking, but only partly. In his circumspect way, he was telling her he was one of those men who went where others feared to go. One who kept the gray area safe for Mom, apple pie and the girl he left behind. But there was someone else he’d left behind and he needed to know about her.

Only how could she tell him? He couldn’t even tell her specifics about what he did for a living. He was hiding things. Dangerous things? He was her daughter’s father. And Maggie couldn’t deny she was still attracted to him. But the truth was too sensitive to just drop on him out of the blue. Or at all? What did she really know about him? She knew he wasn’t staying. He might not even want to know.

“It wasn’t fair to ask you to wait,” he finished.

“Thanks for making the decision for me.”

Maggie had intended the words to be light and breezy, but they’d sounded sarcastic and just this side of hateful. She was ten years too late in fussing at him for not getting in touch. But the depth and power of the emotions churning inside her con firmed that she still had un re solved feelings.

“Can I warm your coffee?” she asked.

When he nodded, she grabbed the pot and walked over to him. She had to touch him, wrap her hand around his to hold his cup steady. Meeting his gaze, she saw the dark intensity in his eyes and wondered again what the sensitive mission and all the others since had entailed. Her first obligation was to protect Faith. Before she brought father and daughter together, she needed to know more about him. Besides, he said he’d only be there temporarily. Was it right to reveal this secret knowing Faith would be heart broken when he left her? If anyone knew how that felt, it was Maggie.

She took one step away from him, then another and another until she was across the room and could form words again.

“Can you tell me what skills brought you to your commanding officer’s attention? Or would you have to kill me then, too?”

“I don’t think that’s classified. It was actually two things. Physical—”

“There’s a surprise.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wanted them back with a fervor she reserved only for chocolate. “What I meant was, you were in pretty good shape. From rodeoing. As I recall,” she finished lamely.

A slow, sexy grin curved up the corners of his lips. “Endurance was a factor. And intensity.”

She’d been the focus of that intensity once upon a time. It had been pretty seductive. And the primary reason why she’d been relieved when he’d said he wouldn’t be in Destiny for long. She didn’t want to chance having such concentrated scrutiny land on her for any extended length of time. Historically, she didn’t handle it well.

“What other ‘know-how’ brought you attention?”

“I took to computers like a wild mustang takes to the open range.”

“There’s that Texas boy I knew and—”

What? Loved? Not anymore. No way, no how. Nope.

She shook her head. “So you’re good with those ornery little contraptions? Maybe you’re just the man I need.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “Oh?”

She ignored the way her heart hammered, her hands shook and her knees wobbled. “Y-yeah. My computer is a mean-tempered, lazy, stubborn, good-for-nothing pile of chips, hard drive and disks.”

“Froze up on you?”

“That seems like a big leap.”

“Nine times out of ten the level of frustration you just ex pressed usually means the computer froze up. Want me to take a look?”

“More than you could possibly know.”

He walked to the desk and leaned over to study the screen. He turned the machine off and waited several moments before booting it back up again. Not that she even wanted to get close, but before she could move in to peek over his shoulder, he touched some keys, then straightened and looked at her.

“I think it will work for you now. If you talk nice.”

“What did you do?” she asked reverently. Then she held up a hand. “Never mind. If you tell me you’d probably have to kill me and I really don’t want to know that badly.”

He laughed. “It’s easy.”

“Maybe for you. I don’t mind admitting I’m technologically challenged. And I have a great deal of respect for people like you.”

His smile dimmed, then died. What had she said?

“Thanks for the coffee, Maggie.” He walked to the sink and rinsed out his cup. “I’ll get out of your hair. You have to go to work and Faith has camp.”

“How did you know that?”

“You mentioned it last night, when you said it was time to go home.”

“Oh.” He was a sharp one. She would tuck the information away. “We’ve got time. I could fix you breakfast—”

He shook his head. “I have an appointment. But thanks anyway. I’ll let myself out.”

And then he was gone. The man dropped in and out of her life with about as much notice and the same potentially destructive force as a stealth bomber.

“Faith, it’s time to go.”

Maggie put the finishing touches on her daughter’s lunch and snapped the lid closed on her lunch box. As she put the dirty peanut butter knife in the sink, she noticed the mug Jack had used just a short time before. She rubbed her finger around the rim. It was cold; his mouth was warm. She remembered from last night. She’d never for got ten.

“Faith Elizabeth, we’re going to be late.”

The sound of the slider made her turn around. “What were you doing outside?” Maggie asked.

“Jensen is next door talking to Jack.”

Her daughter stood in front of her, the clean denim shorts and powder blue T-shirt she’d put on a short while ago now sporting dirt stains.

“How do you know this?” Maggie asked.

“I heard them talking,” she answered vaguely, digging the toe of her sneaker into the vinyl kitchen flooring.

“Have you been climbing the tree between the yards and spying on him?”

The child shook her head and Maggie marveled at how well she did the wide-eyed-innocent act. Did the ability come from herself—or Jack?

“I didn’t have to climb the tree, Mom. He was talking really loud. Something about the damned will. What does that mean?”

“First of all, that’s not a word we repeat, young lady.”

“Will?”

“You know good and well that’s not the one. Second, he was talking about his grandmother’s will, what she wanted to happen with her things after she died.”

Faith’s blue eyes suddenly filled with shadows, so like the way her father’s had just a short while ago. “I miss her, Mom.”

“Me, too, sweetie.”

“Do you think Jack is sad, too?”

“I’m sure he is. He was very close to her when he was younger.”

“I wonder why he didn’t come back,” Faith said.

Because finding something he was good at was more important than his grand mother. Or me, Maggie thought sadly.

“I couldn’t say.”

“While I was in the backyard,” the child continued, careful not to in criminate herself, “I heard them say something about selling the house.”

“It makes sense. Jack’s job is in the army. He doesn’t need to keep it,” Maggie explained.

“Sure he does.”

“Why? Because a person can’t have too many houses?”

“Yeah,” Faith agreed. “I hope he doesn’t sell it.”

“Even to someone who might have a little girl just your age?”

“I’ve already got friends my age. Kasey and Stacey are my best friends—ever.”

“I can’t imagine Jack hanging on to the house. Like you said—he hasn’t come back until now. Why wouldn’t he sell it?”

Faith shrugged her thin shoulders. “I dunno. But I hope he keeps it. I wish he’d stay, Mom.”

Uh-oh, Maggie thought. Incoming—as in heart break. Faith couldn’t possibly have any clue about her relationship to the mysterious stranger next door. Yet she’d begun a bond. No doubt because he’d plucked her out of the stock pen last night. In her daughter’s eyes, he was the proverbial man in the white hat. And she didn’t know what to say to insulate the child’s fragile feelings.

“C’mon, sweetpea. We have to get going. And there’s no time for you to change out of those clothes you got tree dirt on. If I’ve told you once, I’ve said it a hundred times—stay out of the tree. You’re going to get hurt.”

“Aw, Mom, climbing trees is as easy as pie.”

“Here’s your lunch box.” When the child took it, Maggie touched her shoulder. “No argument. No editorializing. Just do as I say—no climbing trees.”

“Yes’m.”

They hurried out the front door and Maggie turned to lock it. Then she moved down the steps and to the car. As she opened her door, she noticed Jensen walking to her BMW parked at the curb in front of the house next door.

“Hey, Jen,” she called. “How’s it going?”

The other woman turned, then smiled and waved when recognition hit. “Hi, Maggie.” She put on her sunglasses. “I’m fine. Did you hear? Taylor and Mitch got engaged last night.”

“Give them my best wishes.”

“I will, but right now Jack could use a friend.”

“What’s wrong?”

Jensen tucked a strand of mahogany hair behind her ear. “You’ll have to ask him. If he wants to say anything, he will. Attorney-client privilege.” She shrugged. “You off to work?”

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