New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery’s newest Fool’s Gold story proves that wild hearts cannot be tamed...

Horse whisperer Shane Stryker is done with passion. This time around, he’s determined to meet someone who will be content with the quiet life of a rancher’s wife. And the fiery, pint-size redhead who dazzles him at the local bar definitely does not fit the bill.

Small-town librarian Annabelle Weiss has always seen herself as more of a sweetheart than a siren, so she can’t understand why Shane keeps pushing her away. Shane has formed the totally wrong impression of her but only he can help her with a special event for the next Fool’s Gold festival. And maybe while he’s at it, she can convince him to teach her a few things about kissing on hot summer nights, too—some lessons, a girl shouldn’t learn from reading a book!

Praise for New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery

“If you want a story that will both tug on your heartstrings and tickle your funny bone, Mallery is the author for you!”

—RT Book Reviews on Only His

“When it comes to heartfelt contemporary romance, Mallery is in a class by herself.”

—RT Book Reviews on Only Yours

“An adorable, outspoken heroine and an intense hero…set the sparks flying in Mallery’s latest lively, comic and touching family-centered story.”

—Library Journal on Only Yours

“Mallery…excels at creating varied, well-developed characters and an emotion-packed story gently infused with her trademark wit and humor.” One of the Top 10 Romances of 2011!

—Booklist on Only Mine

“Mallery’s prose is luscious and provocative.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Susan Mallery’s gift for writing humor and tenderness make all her books true gems.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Romance novels don’t get much better than Mallery’s expert blend of emotional nuance, humor and superb storytelling.”

—Booklist

Summer Nights

Susan Mallery

www.millsandboon.co.uk

My thanks to all the librarians

who have supported me, loved my books and talked about them endlessly. So many of you have shared that just once you’d like to read about a librarian who is fun, smart and sexy—without the buttoned-up cardigan and unflattering hair. Annabelle is my gift to you.

I hope you adore her as much as I do.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER ONE

SHANE STRYKER WAS DETERMINED enough to never walk away from a fight and smart enough to know when he’d been beat. The beautiful redhead dancing on the bar might be everything he wanted, but pursuing her would be the worst decision he could make.

Her eyes were closed, her long, wavy hair swayed in rhythm with her body. The sensual beat of the music hit Shane square in the gut. He shook his head. Okay, it hit him lower than that, but he ignored it and the draw he felt. Women who danced on bars were trouble. Exciting, tempting, but not for him. Not anymore.

He might not know her, but he knew the type. Attention-seeking. Deadly—at least for a guy who assumed marriage meant commitment and monogamy. Women like the one on the bar needed to be wanted by every man in the room.

Slowly, regretfully, he turned away from the woman and headed for the exit. He’d come into town for a beer and a burger. He’d thought he could catch the game, maybe hang with the guys. What he’d found instead was a barefoot goddess who made a man want to forget all his hopes and dreams in exchange for a single smile. His dreams were worth more, he reminded himself, glancing over his shoulder one last time before stepping out into the warm summer night.

* * *

ANNABELLE WEISS OPENED her eyes. “It’s easy.”

“Uh-huh.” Her friend Charlie Dixon put down her beer and shook her head. “No.”

Annabelle climbed off the bar and put her hands on her hips. It was her attempt to look intimidating. Kind of a feeble gesture when she considered the fact that Charlie was a good eight or ten inches taller and had muscles Annabelle didn’t want to know existed.

She was about to make her case, maybe even throw in a line that it was for the children, when the mostly female crowd broke into spontaneous applause.

“Great dance,” someone called.

Annabelle spun in a circle. “Thank you,” she called. “I’ll be here all week.” She looked back at her friend. “You have to.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t.”

Annabelle turned to Heidi Simpson. “You talk to her.”

Heidi, a pretty blonde who had recently gotten engaged, glanced up from studying her diamond ring. “What? Oh, sorry. I was busy.”

“Thinking about Rafe,” Charlie grumbled. “We know. He’s wonderful, you’re happy. It’s getting annoying.”

Heidi laughed. “Now who’s cynical?”

“It’s not news. I’ve always been cynical.” Charlie grabbed her beer and led the way back to their table. The one they’d abandoned when Annabelle had offered to show them both the dance of the happy virgin.

When they were seated, Annabelle turned to Charlie. “Look, I need to raise money for my bookmobile. Being in the town festival is the best way for that to happen. It’s a ride on a horse. You know how to ride. You even own a horse.”

Charlie’s blue eyes narrowed. “I’m not dancing on a horse.”

“You don’t have to. The horse dances. That’s why it’s called the Dance of the Horse.”

“Mason is not a horse who dances.”

Heidi leaned forward. “Annabelle, this is your bookmobile project. You’re the one who has the passion. Why don’t you do the dance?”

“I don’t know how to ride.”

“You could learn. Shane could teach you. I’ve seen him working with the rodeo cowboys. He’s very patient.”

“I don’t think there’s enough time. The festival is ten weeks away. Could I really learn to ride a horse well enough for it to do the dance by then?” She turned to Charlie. “More than a thousand years ago the Máa-zib women left everything they knew and migrated up to where we are today. They were powerful women who wanted to make a home for themselves. They settled here and their strength and determination flows through all of us.”

Charlie sipped her beer. “Good speech and no, I’m not doing the horse dance.”

Annabelle slumped over the table. “Then I’ve got nothing.”

Heidi poked her in the arm. “Like I said, do the dance yourself. You’re the one always going on and on about the Máa-zib women protecting their daughters from sacrifice by leaving. They were tired of their daughters being killed before they’d ever had a chance to live so they came here where they could be free. Embrace that spirit.”

Annabelle straightened. She was hardly the type to lead a parade, she thought. She was quiet, more of a behind-the-scenes person.

She opened her mouth to say “I can’t” but the words got stuck. Because she could if she wanted. She could do a lot of things. But all her life, she’d been conventional in an attempt to fit in. From trying to please her parents to making herself over to suit every guy she’d ever dated. She considered herself accommodating, not strong.

Charlie stared at her. “You okay? You look funny.”

“I’m a pushover,” Annabelle said. “A doormat, in the most honest, unflattering terms.”

Heidi and Charlie exchanged looks of concern. “Okay,” Charlie said slowly. “You’re not having a seizure, are you?”

“No, I’m having a revelation. I’ve always been the one to bend, to sacrifice what I wanted for another person’s needs and desires.”

“You were just dancing on a bar,” Heidi said with a shrug. “It doesn’t get more independent than that.”

“I wasn’t drunk. I was showing Charlie the dance of the happy virgin in an effort to convince her—” She shook her head, then stood. “You know what? I’m going to do it. I’m going to learn the dance myself. Or learn to ride. Whatever. It’s my bookmobile. My fundraiser. I’m taking charge. I’m putting myself out there. The spirit of the Máa-zib women lives on in me.”

“You go, girl,” Charlie told her.

* * *

“YOU WERE HOME EARLY last night.”

Shane turned off the water in the barn and glanced up to see his mother walking toward him. It was barely dawn, but she was up and dressed. More important, she carried a mug of coffee in each hand.

He took the caffeine she offered and swallowed gratefully. Visions of a fiery redhead had haunted the little sleep he’d managed.

“Jo’s Bar turned out to be more interesting than I’d thought.”

May, his still-attractive, fifty-something mother, grinned. “You went to Jo’s Bar? Oh, honey, no. That’s where the women in town hang out. There’s shopping and fashion playing on the TV, not sports. You should have talked to your brother about where to catch the game. No wonder you didn’t stay out late.” She reached out her free hand to stroke the nose of the mare hanging her head over her stall door. “Hello, sweetie. Are you adjusting? Don’t you love Fool’s Gold?”

The mare nodded, as if agreeing that all was well.

Shane had to admit his horses had settled in more quickly than he’d anticipated. The drive from Tennessee had been long but the end results worth the journey. He’d bought two hundred prime acres in the foothills outside of town. He’d already drawn up plans for a house and, more important, stables. Construction would start on the latter within the week. Until then he was boarding his horses in his mother’s stable and he was staying up at the house with her seventy-four-year-old boyfriend, Glen, Shane’s brother Rafe, and Rafe’s fiancée, Heidi. Talk about a crowd.

Shane reminded himself he was doing exactly what he’d always wanted to do in a place he planned to settle down. He had the horses, the land, family close by enough to make it feel like home but, once his house was built, not so close that they would get in the way. If only he could get the image of that woman out of his head.

“Mom, do you know—”

He bit back the rest of the question. His mother was the kind of woman who would know everyone in town. Give her a name and within fifteen minutes she would get back to him with four generations’ worth of details.

He wasn’t looking for trouble. He’d already done that, had married and then divorced the kind of woman who haunted a man. He’d had enough excitement to last him until he was ninety. Now was the time to settle down. To find someone sensible, someone who would be satisfied knowing that one man loved her.

His mother looked at him, her dark eyes so much like his own. Her mouth curved in a slow, knowing smile.

“Please, please say you’re going to ask me if I know any nice girls.”

What the hell, he thought, then shrugged. “Do you? Someone, you know, regular.” No one like the bar-dancing goddess.

His mother practically quivered. “Yes and she’s perfect. A librarian. Her name is Annabelle Weiss. She’s lovely. Heidi was telling me Annabelle wants to learn to ride a horse. You could teach her.”

A librarian, huh? He pictured a plain brunette in glasses, cardigan buttoned up to her neck and practical shoes. Not exactly exciting, but that was okay. He’d reached the place in his life where he wanted to have a family. He wasn’t looking for someone to rock his world.

“What do you think?” his mother asked anxiously.

“She sounds perfect.”

* * *

“RETURNING TO THE SCENE of the crime?”

Annabelle grinned at her friend. “There was no crime.”

“You know that and I know that, but rumors are flying, missy.”

Annabelle held open the door to Jo’s Bar, then waited while Charlie preceded her into the brightly lit business. It was lunchtime in Fool’s Gold and women already filled nearly a dozen tables. Jo catered to the female population, decorating with girl-friendly colors like mauve and cream. During the day the big TVs were either off or turned to shopping and reality shows. The menu had plenty of salads and sandwiches, with discreet calorie counts listed to the side.

Annabelle followed Charlie to a table and took a seat.

“Everyone is talking about you dancing on the bar.”

Annabelle laughed. “I don’t care. It was for a good cause. Even if it didn’t convince you to be in my festival. But that’s okay. I’m going to do it myself.” She frowned. “You are telling people I wasn’t drunk, right?”

In fact she hadn’t bothered to finish her single glass of wine. Getting on the bar last night had been more about feeling unsettled than wanting to show off and had nothing to do with any alcohol in her system.

Charlie grinned. “I swear, I’m sticking to the one-glass-of-wine story. The archaeologists were intrigued, though. I think the dance of the happy virgin is giving you street cred with them.”

“Yes, because they’re so wild.”

Last fall, construction workers on a building site had blown away a bit of the mountain, exposing Máa-zib gold. Archaeologists had stormed in to take charge of the discovery. After the pieces were researched and catalogued, they would be returned to the town.

“Are you helping them?” Charlie asked.

“I’m more unofficial liaison,” Annabelle told her. “My minor in Máa-zib studies gives me enough information to be annoying to the professionals.”

“Most professionals need a little annoying.”

Annabelle appreciated the loyalty. “Then my work here is done.”

The door opened and Heidi walked in. She saw them and waved.

Heidi hurried over. “Shane said yes. He’s going to teach you to do the horse dance. Well, ride a horse. I don’t think his mom mentioned the dancing.”

“Probably better to sneak up on him with that one,” Charlie said.

“You’re right.” Heidi grinned. “He’s a successful horse guy. He’s not going to be into the dancing thing. You’ll need to introduce the idea gradually.”

This was what she loved, Annabelle thought happily. Her friends and, for the most part, her life. She had a great job in a town she adored. She belonged. If she got a twinge of envy when the light caught Heidi’s gleaming diamond engagement ring, well, that was okay, too.

In truth, she didn’t care about the rock—it was what the rock represented that gave her a couple of pangs. Love. Real love. Rafe wasn’t trying to change Heidi. He didn’t accept only parts of her. He was all-in. Annabelle had never had that. Her revelation from last night had stayed with her. She wanted more than conditional love. She wanted it all—or nothing. Messy, inconvenient love, where both parties gave with their whole hearts.

Not that she had a bunch of guys lining up, begging her to take a chance.

She pulled a folder out of her large tote. “I have the information I promised.” She withdrew the pictures she’d taken at the two florists in town, along with pricing sheets.

Heidi sighed. “You’re amazing and wonderful and I really appreciate the help.”

Charlie bristled. “Hey, I tasted cake. I wouldn’t do that for just anyone.”

Heidi looked at her. “Are you sure?”

“Okay, I would taste cake for just about anyone but I did it for you because you’re my friend.”

“You two are the best,” Heidi said, her eyes getting bright. “Seriously. I don’t know how to thank you.”

Charlie held up a hand. “I swear, if you start crying, I’m outta here. You’re emotional. Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

“Yes. I’m sure. It’s just everyone is being so wonderful about the wedding.”

Heidi had been engaged all of two weeks, which wouldn’t be notable except the wedding had been scheduled for the middle of August, giving everyone barely two months to get it all arranged. Heidi’s only family was her grandfather, so Annabelle and Charlie had stepped in to help with the details.

They looked over the flowers. Heidi studied arrangements and prices. They paused when Jo stopped by their table to find out what they wanted for lunch.

“By the way,” Jo said, handing them each a small card with a price list, “the party room is going to be opening in about a month. You were asking about it for the bridal shower.”

Heidi leaned forward. “You’re making it like you said?”

Jo grinned. “Yup, just as girly as the rest of the bar, with very flattering lighting. Lots of tables, a private bar, big-screen TV and a small stage. I’m working on the menu right now. We can do appetizers and finger sandwiches or regular meals. Whichever you want.”

“Champagne?” Heidi asked.

“Lots.”

“I love it,” Annabelle said. “Want to have your shower here?”

“The room can hold up to sixty,” Jo told them.

“You wouldn’t have to limit your guest list,” Charlie told her.

“Sounds like a plan,” Heidi said happily.

Annabelle nodded. “We’ll get back to you on dates.”

“Great.” Jo took their lunch orders. Salads for Annabelle and Heidi and a cheeseburger for Charlie.

“Fries for the table,” the firefighter added, then glared at her friends. “I know you two. You’ll steal mine otherwise.”

“I would never do that,” Annabelle lied cheerfully.

* * *

“HI. I’M ANNABELLE WEISS.”

Shane looked up from the saddle he’d been cleaning and immediately came to his feet. Instead of a mousy, stern-faced woman wearing glasses, with an oversize cardigan and stockings bagging around her ankles, he stared into the slightly amused green eyes of the petite, redheaded bar dancer.

She had on one of those tight, strappy dresses women liked to wear and men liked to look at. Which was usually the woman’s plan all along. It was white, with flowers scattered all over. Skinny strips of fabric had been braided together to hold the whole thing up. The dress was fitted, following her impressive curves to just above her knee.

Technically she was covered, with not a hint of anything risqué showing. But the outline of her body was enough to bring the strongest of men to his knees. Shane would know—he was a breath or two away from going down in a heap.

His first instinct was for self-preservation. Moving forward wasn’t an option—that would put him too close to her. So he took a step back and nearly tripped over the stool he’d been sitting on. The stool started to go over. He grabbed for it, as did the woman. His fingers somehow got tangled in hers and damn it all to hell, there it was. The to-the-groin jolt of awareness, of hunger.

“You’re Shane, right?”

He inched away from her and managed a quick nod as he twisted the rag he held in his fingers.

“Heidi said you were willing to teach me how to ride.” Her expression shifted from entertained to confused, as if she was wondering why no one had mentioned he was a can or two shy of a six-pack.

“A horse,” he clarified, then wanted to kick himself. What else but a horse? Did he think she was here to learn to ride his mother’s elephant?

One corner of Annabelle’s perfect, full mouth twitched. “A horse would be good. You seem to have several.”

He wanted to remind himself that he was usually fine around women. Smooth even. He was intelligent, funny and could, on occasion, be charming. Just not now, with his blood pumping and his brain doing nothing more than shouting “It’s her, it’s her” over and over again.

Chemistry, he thought grimly. It could turn the smartest man into a drooling idiot. Here he was, proving the theory true.

Aware he was still holding a rag in one hand and leather cleaner in the other, he set both on the battered counter.

“You’re interested in pleasure riding?” he asked, careful to keep his voice even.

Annabelle sighed. The action caused her chest to rise and fall. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to rip his gaze away.

“Actually, it’s kind of complicated,” she admitted.

Complicated? He didn’t think so. She was a beautiful woman. He was a man who had to have her or the world would come to an end. What could be simpler?

Only she wasn’t talking about what he was thinking and if she knew what was on his mind, she would run him through with a pitchfork, tear screaming into the afternoon, then back her car over him for good measure. Not that he would blame her.

But he knew better. He was a regular guy looking for a regular kind of life. He knew women like her. Make that, he’d known one woman like her. He’d married her and then had been tormented all through his marriage. Women like her wanted men—all men. They weren’t happy unless the world was drooling over them. No way he was going to make the same mistake again. No falling for wild women who could turn him on with a single breath. Right now, boring sounded excellent.

“I’m a librarian in town,” she began.

“You sure about that?”

The words popped out before he could stop them.

Annabelle raised her eyebrows. “Fairly. It’s my job and so far no one has told me to go away when I show up for work.”

Smooth, Stryker, he thought. Very smooth.

“I was expecting someone wearing glasses. You know. Because librarians read a lot.”

The raised eyebrows turned into a frown. “You need to get out of the barn more.”

“Probably true.”

She hesitated, as if not sure he was being funny or just incredibly slow. “Okay.”

Telling her the truth wasn’t an option. Admitting she was the sexiest creature he’d ever seen and that the reason he sounded so much like a mindless idiot was because all his blood was pooling in his groin would most likely cause her to bring him up on charges. Starting over seemed the only option.

“Tell me what you had in mind,” he said, staring into her eyes, determined not to even think about the steady rise and fall of her chest, or the way her painted toes on her tiny feet were just so darned cute. “Let me guess. You’ve wanted to ride since you were a kid?”

Annabelle laughed. “Have you seen me? Horses are big animals. Why would someone as small as me want to risk my life on the back of something that could crush me with a thought?”

As she spoke, she shifted, holding out one gorgeous leg to show him the four-inch heel on her sandal.

He supposed she’d done it to make a point about her height. All he could think was that she was small enough and light enough that supporting her weight would be easy. The image of them up against a wall, her legs around his waist as they…

He closed his fists against the visual, reminded himself that his mother knew he was meeting with Annabelle and thought about horse racing stats. When that didn’t help, he worked a couple of fractions in his head.

“Size has nothing to do with it,” he said, then wanted to hit his head against the wall. “Jockeys are small and they control fast, powerful horses.”

Amusement danced in her green eyes. “Sure. Logic. The last male refuge.”

He managed a smile. “I work with what I’ve got. So we’ve established riding wasn’t a childhood dream.”

“Hardly. Although I would have loved to be a ballerina. Anyway, I need to ride because I’m raising money for a bookmobile. We just finished up the new media center the first part of this year. It’s wonderful.”

“Isn’t a bookmobile old-school?”

“As in anyone can get anything off the internet, including a book?”

He nodded.

“I wish. We have a lot of shut-ins who can’t get to the library and don’t own computers. Older couples up in the mountains who don’t come down in the winter. A few folks in wheelchairs. That sort of thing. Right now we have a sad little van that makes trips, but it can’t hold much in the way of material. Plus, I was hoping to raise enough to have a few laptops and portable Wi-Fi, so we could introduce the shut-ins to the magic of computers. Open up their worlds.”

He hadn’t thought of anyone still being computer illiterate, but realized there was probably a fair percentage of the population either unable or unwilling to step into the electronic age.

“I’ve already picked out my dream vehicle,” she said, her voice crackling with excitement. “It’s huge and has four-wheel drive. That means it can go up into the mountains in winter.”

“How much do you need to raise?”

“A hundred and thirty-five thousand dollars.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “That’s a lot of vehicle.”

“Some of the money will go for stocking it with books and computers.”

“And the Wi-Fi.”

“Right.”

So much for simply handing her a check. “So how does learning to ride fit into all this?”

She smiled. “This is where we test how much you learned in history class. I’m going to ride in a ceremony celebrating the Máa-zib tribe.”

Shane grimaced. “That class was a long time ago.” He paused, then nodded as something he’d learned in fourth or fifth grade drifted into his brain. “They settled the area eight hundred years ago. Maybe more. They’re Mayan women who founded their own civilization here. And maybe there was something in the news about gold recently?”

“You were a good student.”

“Not really. I would rather have been outside.”

“Not me. I always had my nose in a book. Anyway, yes, those are the basics. At the end of summer, there will be a festival that will include authentic Máa-zib crafts and lectures, and me on a horse performing the traditional ride of the female warrior. It’s more of a dance, really. Technically it’s called the Dance of the Horse.”

“You’re going to dance on a horse?”

“No. The horse is going to dance while I ride it.”

This time Shane remembered about the stool when he took a step back. “Do you have a dancing horse?”

“Um, no. I thought maybe we could work on that, too.”

He took another step back. “You want me to teach you to ride and teach a horse to dance?”

“Isn’t that possible?”

Her gaze settled on his, rendering him immobile, so when she moved closer, he was unable to ease away. She smiled up at him and put her hand on his arm.

“Heidi said you’re gifted when it comes to horses. It’s just a little dance. A few steps. For a good cause.”

He doubted she was doing anything extraordinary. In most parts of the country, a beautiful woman touching a man’s arm was considered a perk, not the least bit dangerous. But she wasn’t just any woman. This was the one he’d seen dancing on top of a bar. The one he, for reasons of chemistry and Fate having a hell of a good time at his expense, found irresistible.

Why couldn’t she have been the cardigan-wearing boring stereotypical librarian he’d been expecting? Or maybe librarians weren’t like that at all. Maybe they were all wild, like Annabelle, and the cardigan thing was a giant joke they played on a world too self-involved to see the truth. Either way, he was lost. Lost in a pair of green eyes and a sexy smile that hit him like a fist to the gut. Only it wasn’t a fist and the parts of him responding weren’t exactly his gut.

He wanted to say no, but he couldn’t. Not only because the bookmobile was a good cause but because his mother would give him a look that told him how he’d disappointed her. Despite crossing thirty a few years ago, he couldn’t stand that look.

“I’m a tough, macho guy,” he growled, then held in a groan as he realized he’d spoken out loud.

Annabelle raised her eyebrows, then stepped back. “I’m, ah, sure that’s true. Big horse man.”

He swore under his breath.

Before he could figure out how to extricate himself from the conversation and somehow recover what was left of his dignity, he heard a loud neigh from one of the corrals. He turned and saw the white stallion standing by the gate, his dark gaze fixed on Annabelle.

She turned in the direction of the sound. “Oh, wow. That horse is beautiful. What’s her name?”

“His. Khatar. He’s a stallion. Arabian.”

And a sonofabitch, Shane thought. The kind of horse who wanted to make sure everyone knew he was in charge. Khatar’s previous owner had been too aggressive, trying to break the horse’s spirit. Now Shane had to fix the mistake, which was turning out to be a challenge. But he would do it—he had to. He had way too much money riding on the physically perfect animal.

He turned back to Annabelle. Even in her four-inch heels, she barely came past his shoulder. He figured he could get her on one of his calmer geldings and have her riding in a week or two. As to the dancing, he would deal with that later. When he could speak in full sentences.

“When do you want to start?” he asked, impressed he was able to string the words together.

She turned back to him and smiled. “How about tomorrow?”

“Sure.” The sooner they started, the sooner they would be finished. Better for both of them to get her out of his life. She could go on tormenting other men and he could stop acting like an idiot. It was close enough for him to call it a win.

CHAPTER TWO

ANNABELLE DIDN’T COMPLETELY understand the science of growing fruit. Not only had she been raised in a city, her ability to grow anything was hampered by having what she cheerfully referred to as the black thumb of death. If she got too close to a plant, it visibly recoiled. If she dared to take one home with her, the poor thing withered and died within a couple of weeks. She’d tried watering, feeding, sunlight and playing classical music. She’d read books on the subject. Nothing worked. It had gotten to the point where the Plants for the Planet, a small local nursery in town, refused to sell her anything except cut flowers. Something she tried not to take personally. So the agricultural cycle of life eluded her.

What she did know was that fruit that grew on trees matured later than fruit that grew on vines, or bushes. That strawberries arrived first and that cherries, which grew on trees and therefore should have been later in the summer, were available by mid-June. She also knew that several families spent their summers living in small trailers by the vineyards and orchards. They worked the various crops and after the grapes were picked in late September and early October, they moved on.

Annabelle drove up to the circle of trailers and parked. Before she’d even opened her door, children spilled out of the trailers, jumped off swings and raced from the grove of trees shading the area. They circled her car, laughing, pulling open her door and urging her out.

“Did you bring them? Did you bring them?”

Annabelle stood and put her hands on her hips. “Bring what? Did you ask me for something?”

The children, ranging in ages from maybe four to eleven or twelve, smiled eagerly at her. One little boy darted behind her and pulled the latch that opened her trunk. Immediately the children hurried over and began searching through the bins of books she’d brought.

“It’s here.”

“That one’s mine.”

“The second and third book in the series? Sweet!”

By the time the kids had found their requested books and disappeared to begin the magic of getting lost in a story, the mothers had appeared, most carrying infants or toddlers in their arms.

Annabelle greeted the women she knew and was introduced to a few she hadn’t met yet. Maria, a slight woman in her early forties, leaned heavily on her cane as she gave Annabelle a welcoming hug.

“The children were watching the clock all morning,” she said, leading the way to a small outdoor table by the largest trailer. Maria’s husband managed the group of workers and spoke for them when dealing with the local farmers. Maria acted as unofficial “den mother” for the younger women.

“I’m glad,” Annabelle said, settling in one of the folding chairs. “When I was their age, summer was all about reading.”

“It is for them, too. Since last year, when you first found us, the little ones want books.”

After moving to Fool’s Gold the previous year, Annabelle had started driving around to explore the area. She’d discovered the enclave of trailers, had met several of the women and made friends with the children. Maria had been the first to welcome her and had been enthusiastic about her idea of bringing books to community.

This year, Annabelle had created several reading lists, based on the ages of the children. She was working on getting donations so that when the families left, they would take plenty of books with them. Enough to last until they returned next year.

Maria had already set out iced tea and cookies. Annabelle poured them each a glass.

“Leticia is going to have her baby this week,” Maria said. “Her husband is frantic. Men have no patience with nature when it comes to their children. He asks every day, ‘Is it now?’ As if the baby is going to tell him.”

“He sounds excited.”

“He is. And frightened.” She called out something in Spanish.

“Sí, Mama,” came the response.

Maria smiled. “They’re writing down the titles of the books they took, and what they want for next time.”

“I’ll be back next week.” Annabelle lowered her voice. “I have several of those romances you like, as well.”

Maria grinned. “Good. We all like them.”

Annabelle wanted to offer more, which was why she was focused on getting the money for the bookmobile. With luck, this time next year she would be bringing a lot more than three or four bins of books in the trunk of her car. She would be able to offer free internet access. Maria and her friends could email with family members in different countries and use various web resources to supplement their children’s education.

“Blanca’s engaged,” Maria said with a sigh.

“Congratulations.”

“I told you, good men are out there.”

“Yes, in Bakersfield. You told me.” Maria’s eldest daughter had studied nursing, then moved to central California.

“He’s a doctor.”

Annabelle laughed. “Every mother’s dream.”

“She’s happy and that matters most, but yes, I like saying my daughter is marrying a doctor. Have you been to the hospital lately?”

“That was subtle.”

“You need a man.”

Just then a little boy ran up to her, a small jar in his hands. He stopped in front of Annabelle and grinned. “We found ’em and saved ’em. Because you bring us books.”

She took the jar full of pennies. “Thank you, Emilio. This is going to help a lot.”

He darted off and she carefully held the precious gift. Technically it was only a couple of dollars, but for the children who had collected the pennies, it represented a fortune.

“You’ve made a wonderful home for your children,” she said. “All of you. You should be very proud of them.”

“We are. But don’t think I’ve forgotten what we were talking about. Finding you a good man.”

“I’m ready for a good man,” she admitted. She thought about her post-bar-dancing revelation. “One who wants me for me. Not someone who wants to change me. I haven’t been lucky enough to find him yet.”

“Luck can change.”

“I hope so.”

She thought briefly about Shane who brought the cowboy fantasy to 3-D life. The man looked great in jeans, but he was a little strange. She was trying to figure out a polite way to ask if he’d maybe been dropped on his head as a baby.

Besides, cute didn’t equate with good and she was done making bad choices when it came to her love life. The next man she allowed in her world and her bed was going to adore her for exactly who she was.

* * *

“WAIT,” SHANE YELLED, watching the teenager on the horse. “Wait.”

Elias, nineteen and sure he knew better, jerked back on the reins. The gelding dug in hard and came to a stop. Elias’s rope fell about three feet shy of the calf who darted away.

Elias swore. “Damn calf is laughing at me.”

“He’s not the only one,” Shane grumbled. “Why are you here if you’re not going to listen?”

“I’m listening.”

“No. You’re doing what you want to do and look where it’s getting you.”

Elias muttered something under his breath and reached for his rope. “If I wait too long, I’m gonna miss.”

“Waiting too long isn’t your problem.”

“Now you sound like my girlfriend.”

Shane chuckled. “You’ll get better with practice on both counts. Now let’s try this again.”

“See, you need to be working with me, Shane. What have you got going on here that’s better than the rodeo?”

“A life.”

“Not much of one. You’re stuck in this small town. I swore, once I got out of mine, I was never going back. I can’t believe you could live anywhere and you’re here.”

Shane thought about the couple hundred acres he’d bought and the stables and house he would have built. “I’ve got everything I need.”

Elias grimaced. “Well, help me win and I’ll take care of everything I owe.”

“Kid, you got heart, but you’re going to need a lot more practice. And I’m out of the game.”

Elias nodded toward the far corral, where Khatar watched everything going on. “How much did you waste on him? Coulda bought a whole ranch with what you paid for that one.”

“He’s worth it.”

“In your dreams.”

“He’s perfect,” Shane said, not bothering to glance at the stallion.

“If he doesn’t kill you first.”

“He has a reputation, I’ll grant you that. But I’m not convinced he’s as mean as everyone says. You interested in practicing or are you here to flap your gums at me? I’ve got better things to do than stand around listening to you tell me what you don’t know.”

Elias grinned. “I’m here to learn.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Until three. Then I have to head to Wyoming.” Elias opened his mouth to say something else, then closed it and gave a low whistle. “I sure wouldn’t mind getting me a piece of that first, though.”

As the teen spoke, Shane felt a prickling on the back of his neck. He didn’t even have to turn around to know who had arrived, didn’t have to see to understand that his afternoon had just taken a jog toward the impossible.

Elias slid off his horse. He dropped the reins and pulled off his hat, then walked to the fence.

“Afternoon,” he called, his eyes wide, his lips curving in a stupid grin.

Shane gave in to the inevitable and shifted so he could watch Annabelle approach.

She’d replaced her fitted summer dress with jeans and a T-shirt, which shouldn’t have been sexy, but were. The jeans hugged impressive curves, and while her legs weren’t all that long, they were well-shaped. She’d pulled her wavy red hair back into a braid. Her green gaze met him and damned if he didn’t want to go down on his knees and beg. He wasn’t sure what for, but at this point he would gladly take anything she offered. Although if it was hot, took a long time and was illegal in several states, he could like it even more.

“Yours?” Elias asked, speaking under his breath.

“No, but stay away.”

“But I—”

“No.”

Elias huffed in annoyance and spun his hat in his hands.

“Hello, Shane,” Annabelle said as she stopped in front of him. “I’m here for my lesson.” She smiled and held up a tiny foot. “I bought cowboy boots. I want to tell you that you should be impressed, but honestly any excuse to buy new shoes is welcome.” The smile blossomed. “It’s a girl thing.”

“They’re real nice,” Elias said.

“Thank you.”

Shane gave in to the inevitable. “Annabelle, this is Elias.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said easily.

“My pleasure.” Elias looked her over thoroughly. “I was supposed to be heading to Wyoming. It’s my grandma’s birthday in a couple of days. But I could stay put for a while.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Shane told him, watching Annabelle to see if she was going to start flirting with the younger man.

“We should let the lady decide.”

Annabelle watched them both, then frowned. “I’m sorry. Do you mean me?”

“Elias wants to know if he should stick around,” Shane said. “For you.”

A delicate frown pulled her eyebrows together. “I don’t understand.”

“We could go out to dinner,” Elias offered. “Or back to my place.”

“You don’t have a place,” Shane reminded him. “You stayed with me last night.”

“I could get a place.”

“You have a girlfriend.”

Elias turned back to Annabelle. “It’s not serious.”

“You’re nineteen.”

Elias glared at him. “Don’t make me hurt you, old man.”

Annabelle shook her head. “I’m still confused. I’m, ah, here to learn how to ride.”

Shane winked at Elias. “That was a no.”

“Like you’re going to do any better.”

Shane knew that was probably true. More important, for reasons of self-preservation, he needed to stay clear of Annabelle Weiss. Even if she was a temptation.

“About the riding lesson,” she began.

Elias sighed. “Is it an age thing? Everyone thinks I’m real mature.”

Shane slapped him on the back. “Is that what they’re saying?”

“You stay out of this, old man. This is between me and the lady.”

Old man?

Annabelle’s green eyes widened. “Are you trying to ask me out?”

“If you have to ask, then I’m doing it wrong,” Elias muttered.

“Something else the girlfriend says?” Shane asked quietly.

Elias glared at him. “Shut up.”

Shane patted him on the back. “Give it time, kid. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“I do just fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

Shane turned his attention back to Annabelle. As he’d suspected, she created trouble wherever she went. He was torn between regretting his offer to help and wondering how he would survive if he didn’t get to see her. She was the kind of woman who—

He was interrupted midthought by a whole different kind of trouble approaching from the direction of the barn.

* * *

ANNABELLE WAS WILLING to admit she had a sucky track record when it came to men, but she’d never found them quite so perplexing. The young cowboy was hitting on her, which was flattering, but made no sense. She was too old for him. Sure, her new boots were cute, but she’d yet to meet a guy who was that into shoes.

It was the height thing, she thought with a sigh. Because she was small, people often assumed she was younger than she was. Or incompetent. Or both.

As for Shane, who was even better looking in person than in her memory, he seemed more amused than attracted to her. Probably for the best. At least he was acting more normally today. Maybe he hadn’t been feeling well the last time they’d met.

“Don’t move,” Shane said in a low voice.

She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t move. Stay exactly where you are. Elias?”

“On it, boss.” The teen slipped between the rails of the corral and started walking in a wide circle.

“It’s going to be all right,” Shane said, never taking his eyes from her.

Annabelle realized this wasn’t some strange game, that there really was a problem. Her body went cold as she imagined a large snake approaching. One with big fangs and poisonous venom designed to kill in six painful seconds. Or maybe she was being stalked by something worse, although right now she couldn’t imagine what could fit that description.

“A bear?” she asked hopefully. Being mauled seemed better than anything to do with a snake. “Is it a bear?”

“A horse.”

“What?”

She turned and saw the large white stallion they’d talked about the day before. Apparently he’d let himself out of his enclosure and was now trotting toward her.

He was beautiful—like something out of the movies. His mane and tail shimmered, muscles rippled and his hooves were a shiny black. Dark eyes locked with hers as he headed directly for her.

He had the most gentle expression, she thought, her nervousness fading away. Almost as if he were trying to reassure her.

She put her hand on her chest, just below her throat. “You scared me. I thought it was a snake. While I hate to be one of the crowd, I share the typical female fear of snakes.” She turned toward the horse. “Hey, big guy. You’re beautiful. I assumed I would be afraid of horses because you’re so big, but you’re sweet, aren’t you?”

“Annabelle, stay calm.” Shane’s voice was insistent, almost fearful.

“Okay,” she said. “I can do that.”

“Move back slowly.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Elias approaching with a rope. The teen was bent over at the waist, practically running. Overreact much, she thought, as Khatar reached her.

“Hey, baby,” she murmured, reaching up and stroking the huge animal’s face. “Who’s a handsome boy?”

Khatar shuffled closer and placed his face near to hers. She smiled at him and breathed in the scent of horse. It wasn’t as overwhelming as she would have thought. She patted his neck.

“You’re very strong,” she told him. “Do all the girls say that? I’ll bet you’re very popular with the lady horses.”

He put his head on her shoulder and leaned into her. The action nearly sent her to her knees, but she managed to stay standing. She wrapped both arms around him and would have sworn he sighed.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, stepping back and rubbing his cheek again. “Are you lonely? Does mean old Shane ignore you?”

She glanced over her shoulder and saw both men staring at her. Elias’s eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open. Shane looked surprised, but slightly less comical.

“What?” she asked.

“Stay calm,” Elias told her, sounding oddly desperate.

“I am calm. What is with you two?” She glanced around, half expecting to see a marauding snake or twelve.

Shane and the teen exchanged a whispered few words, then Elias began to circle the stallion. Khatar, still nuzzling her, casually kicked out a back hoof. Elias jumped back.

“Annabelle, please step back.”

Shane sounded stern. She did as he asked. Khatar followed. She rubbed his shoulder.

“Will I be riding him?” she asked.

“No!” The two men spoke as one.

“Okay, okay.” She returned her attention to Khatar. “Are you valuable? Is that the problem? You’re pretty enough to be worth a ton. Although I suppose handsome is a better word, right? Who’s a handsome boy?”

Elias and Shane had another whispered conversation.

“Annabelle, we’re going to put a halter on Khatar,” Shane said in that slightly annoying, reasonable voice.

“Want me to do it?” she asked. “He seems to like me.”

“No. I want you to slowly step away, while I get between you and him.”

She took the horse’s big head in both her hands and lightly kissed the hair above his nose. “You be good for Shane, you hear me?”

His eyes flickered and his gaze shifted to the cowboy. Then his ears went back.

She didn’t know much about horses, but that didn’t seem like a good sign.

“Why don’t I stay close,” she offered. “That way he’ll be calm.”

“She’s not crazy, boss,” Elias said. “Look at him.”

She’s not crazy. Wow—maybe she could get that made into a bumper sticker for her car. Talk about a way to step up her game in the romance department. Men would be flocking.

Shane hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Be careful,” he told her. “Watch out for his hooves. He’s likely to kick.”

“How do you know that? Has he kicked you?”

“No, but—”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Has this horse done even one mean thing since you got him?”

“No, but—”

Annabelle exhaled. “Why do you think he’s a problem?”

“I don’t. He’s a great horse. Okay? Happy now?”

Shane moved in. Khatar stiffened slightly. Annabelle rubbed his neck.

“It’s okay, big guy. He’s not going to hurt you and I’m right here.”

Khatar relaxed and Shane slipped on the halter. She grabbed the rope hanging down.

“Now I have you in my power,” she joked. Khatar took a step toward her. She glanced at Shane. “I guess I can take him wherever you want him.”

The two men both looked stunned. Again. Shane pointed to the corral where Khatar had been kept before. She led the way, stroking his neck as they walked, his head right beside hers. When they reached the enclosure, she walked him in, closed the gate and then unfastened the rope.

“Home again,” she said with a smile.

Khatar sighed. Or maybe snorted. She couldn’t tell.

Shane secured the latch on the gate. “Annabelle, slowly move to the railings.”

She glanced at him. “Seriously, you don’t need to talk in that ‘let’s keep the crazy horse calm’ voice. He’s fine. Too bad I can’t ride him.”

“You can’t,” Shane told her. “Now please come out of the corral.”

She did as asked. Khatar followed her to the fence, then stared at her, looking lost and a little stricken.

“I think he’s lonely,” she said. “Can’t you pay attention to him more?”

Elias walked up. “Ma’am, that horse is a killer.”

“He’s not a killer,” Shane said quickly. “He’s difficult. Or has a reputation for being difficult.”

“You didn’t find out for yourself?” she asked. “You just assumed?” Annabelle looked at the forlorn expression on Khatar’s sad face. “Maybe you should do a little more checking.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Shane told her.

* * *

THE WORLD LOOKED DIFFERENT from the back of a horse, Annabelle thought thirty minutes later. She was perched on Mason, her friend Charlie’s large horse, hanging on to the saddle with both hands. Although she’d read a couple of books on riding, none of that information had prepared her for how far away she was from the ground.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she said desperately.

The horse stood perfectly still, which was a good thing. If he took even a single step, she was pretty sure she was going to start screaming.

“Just relax,” Shane told her. He held on to Mason’s bridle and patted the horse’s shoulder. “Get used to how it feels.”

It felt too high and way too scary, she thought frantically. A hundred or so yards away, Khatar ran back and forth, keeping close to the fence line as he called out to her.

“If you’re telling me to be careful, I’m so listening,” she murmured, knowing the horse couldn’t hear her. Riding while a horse danced? What had she been thinking? “Maybe I’ll try a car wash instead. That would raise money, right? I can wash cars.”

Shane flashed her a grin. “Come on, Annabelle. I was riding a horse before I could ride a bike. It’s not that bad.”

“I’m too small.” Her short legs were sticking out so much they were practically parallel to the ground. “Does he even know I’m on his back? What if he thinks I’m a bug and decides to shake me off?”

“Mason’s a good horse. You’ll be fine. Now take the reins.”

She shook her head. That would mean letting go, which was so not going to happen.

“Use your left hand,” he instructed. “You can still hang on with your right.”

“I don’t want to,” she whined, but then slowly, carefully, picked up the reins. The thick leather was worn and softer than she would have thought. She still kept a firm hold on the massive saddle, but felt slightly more horsewoman-like, perched there and actually holding reins.

“Now think about him moving forward and gently kick him.”

“What?”

“You want him to move, right?”

“Not really.”

She was up to sitting on a horse while the horse stood still. Everything else seemed a little too risky. She reminded herself this was for a good cause. But kicking?

“I don’t want to hurt him.” Or piss him off. At this point, as far as she was concerned, the horse was seriously in control of the situation.

“Then don’t,” Shane told her. “Like I said. Be gentle.”

She sucked in a breath and lightly touched her heels to his side.

Nothing happened.

She did it again. This time Mason turned and stared at her, as if asking if that was her or just a leaf.

“It was me,” she informed the horse. She wiggled in her seat, urging him forward. “Walk.”

He took a lurching step.

Actually it probably wasn’t lurching, it just felt lurching to her. The entire world seemed to jerk slightly as he walked. She screamed, dropped the reins and grabbed onto the saddle with both hands.

She heard something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh but was hanging on too hard to look in Shane’s direction.

“You’re not helping,” she yelled.

“You’re doing fine.”

“This is not fine. This is flirting with death.”

“Relax. Move with him instead of against him. You’re fighting movement you can’t control.”

Not information designed to make her feel better. She sucked in a breath and tried to relax. As her muscles unclenched, she realized the movement wasn’t as lurching as she’d first thought. She was staying in the saddle and didn’t feel that she was in danger of slipping off. While she kept a tight grip on the saddle with her right hand, she once again picked up the reins with her left.

“Good,” Shane said, his mouth twitching suspiciously. “Just like that.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Only a little.”

Thirty minutes later, Annabelle had figured out the walking thing and had even been slapped around during a very bone-crunching trot. She’d managed to let go of the saddle and hang on to the reins like a real rider.

“Not bad,” Shane said as she drew Mason to a stop.

“Thanks,” she said, bending over and patting the horse’s neck.

“I was talking to him.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Very funny. So how do I get down?”

She’d used wooden steps to get up to horse level, but wasn’t sure she was comfortable dropping onto them. If Mason wasn’t in exactly the right position, she could easily fall off the stairs and snap a bone or something.

“Swing your leg over and drop to the ground,” Shane said, moving in to hold on to the horse’s bridle. “I’ll keep him still.”

She looked all the way down to the ground, then shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“You can’t stay up there forever,” he pointed out. “You’ll be fine.”

“Do you know how short I am? It’s farther for me than most people.”

“By a couple of inches.”

Inches could be significant. As a man, he should know that. Still, his point about not staying up in the saddle for the rest of her life was a good one. So she followed his instructions on how to position her hands and then swung her right leg over Mason’s wide and very high back. Holding on to the saddle, she reached down and down and finally felt the solid earth with her toe. She released and sank back. Only to find herself unable to stand.

Annabelle’s arms went up and out as she staggered, her legs too wobbly to support her. It was as if the muscles had suddenly become al dente pasta.

Just before she hit the ground, strong arms came around her and saved her.

She found herself pressed up against Shane, staring into dark eyes that were bright with humor. This close, he looked even better. She liked the firmness of his jaw and the shape of his mouth. She was aware of his hands—one on her waist and one resting at the small of her back. Her body nestled against his and there was heat everywhere.

“Your muscles take a minute to recover after riding,” he murmured. “I probably should have warned you.”

She felt the first serious zing of attraction ricochet through her. It left her weaker than being on horseback riding ever could and alerted her to fifty kinds of danger.

Apparently Shane should have warned her about a lot more than riding.

CHAPTER THREE

“I FOUND IT,” THE little girl said proudly, holding up the latest edition in the Lonely Bunny series. This one—Lonely Bunny Goes to the Beach—showed the now-famous rabbit in a sun hat, on a towel with the ocean in the background.

“You’re going to love the story,” Annabelle told the girl. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“I can’t wait!”

The girl ran off to show her mother.

Summer mornings were crazy busy in the library. The summer reading program coordinated between the schools and the library brought in plenty of kids and many of their parents.

For the librarians, the hours were shorter, but the time spent at work was more frantic. Getting the usual amount of work done in less hours with more people milling around. Annabelle loved when the library was crammed, most of the seats taken and the computers hummed with activity.

Normally she didn’t work in the children’s section, but the regular librarian was on vacation and Annabelle was happy to fill in. The unfamiliar work gave her less time to think—a good thing considering the man on her mind.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Shane since “the incident on the horse.” Although technically it was the incident getting off the horse, but she didn’t feel the need to be that picky.

She’d been able to deal with Shane’s good looks with no problem. He was a handsome, if slightly strange, man who was going to teach her to ride. Then she’d seen him joking with Elias and she’d found herself intrigued by his sense of humor. Which would have been fine if she hadn’t ended up pressed against his body yesterday. Seriously pressed, with heat and tingles. A dangerous combination.

She knew that when it came to men, she had the word disaster tattooed on her forehead. She was always trying to be whatever the man in question wanted. She had to learn to be herself. Could she do that? Could she let Shane see who she was and take things from there?

If only he weren’t so appealing, she thought ruefully. Because honestly, thinking about the very yummy Shane and his powerful chest, long legs and surprisingly large hands made her want to figure out exactly what he found most appealing and be all that. Which would only get her into trouble.

“I want the real thing,” she reminded herself in a soft voice. That meant breaking old patterns, being strong and, mostly, being herself. So if Shane was into short, plant-killing women who like to read and hang out with their friends, then they had a chance. If not, she was going to have to ignore the tingles he generated and move on.

Not that he was actually asking her to do anything at the moment.

The good news was tomorrow was the Fourth of July. Which meant no library and no riding lessons. She would lose herself in the fun that was a holiday in Fool’s Gold and forget all about the rugged cowboy with the tempting smile.

A small squeal alerted her to the arrival she’d been waiting for. Annabelle walked toward the children gathered around a very worried-looking dog and the pregnant woman holding his leash.

Montana Hendrix Bradley smiled. “We’re here.”

Annabelle’s automatic “Thanks for coming” got lost as she stared at Montana’s huge belly. “Are you okay?” she asked instead. “You look…”

“Huge?” Montana rubbed the small of her back. “I’m counting the days, let me tell you. I can’t get comfortable anytime. I don’t sleep.” She lowered her voice. “I pee every fifteen seconds. Let’s just say I’m not one of those women who glow during pregnancy.”

Annabelle felt a little swish of envy. “But you’ll have a baby.”

Montana smiled. “That’s the best part. Just a couple of weeks to go and then we’ll have our precious little girl.”

“How’s Simon dealing with the waiting?”

At the mention of her husband, Montana’s expression softened. “He’s making me insane, hovering all the time. He phones me every other minute and treats me like I’m breakable.”

“You love it.”

“I do and him. We’re both excited to start the whole kid thing.” She glanced around at the children swarming Buddy. “Okay, let’s get this started.”

It only took a couple of minutes to get the first reader settled with Buddy. Montana had started the reading program the previous year. Buddy, a trained service dog, was the perfect choice. He had a perpetually worried expression and children instinctively wanted to make him feel better. When they read, he relaxed.

During the school year, Buddy traveled to various schools in the district. In the summer, he was a regular tutor at the library. Annabelle had seen the difference he made to the children who had trouble reading. While a child might be uncomfortable reading to an adult, a dog never judged or criticized.

Once Buddy and the first reader had flopped down on the beanbag chairs provided, Montana rejoined Annabelle and carefully lowered her pregnant self into a chair.

“You look as worried as Buddy,” Montana said, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. She still wore it long, with bangs. One of three identical triplets, Montana was as beautiful as her sisters. All three of them had been married the previous New Year’s Eve in a memorable wedding at The Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort.

“While I have plenty of research material on giving birth, what with this being a library and all, I’m not ready to put it into practice,” Annabelle admitted.

Montana laughed. “Don’t worry. The hospital is close and trust me, Simon would make sure I got there. My poor gynecologist is used to dealing with anxious husbands, but with Simon being a doctor, he’s starting to ask her technical questions. I suspect she’ll be threatening to sedate him when I go into labor. How are Heidi’s wedding plans coming?”

“We’re still in the early stage,” Annabelle said. “Heidi’s getting organized and Charlie and I are doing as much as we can to help. Between the remodels on the house, her goats, the growth in her cheese business and being engaged, she’s juggling.”

Montana’s eyes brightened with amusement. “Charlie isn’t exactly the wedding planner type.”

“Not girly?” Annabelle asked with a giggle. Charlie was a wonderful friend, but more the type you’d take car shopping than ask to help you pick out linens for a wedding.

“Not exactly.”

“She’s trying because she’s a good friend. And it’s kind of fun to watch her get out of her comfort zone.”

“Tell Heidi I appreciate her holding the wedding nearly a month after my due date. It gives me time to squeeze back into a regular kind of dress, rather than one of the attractive tents I’ve been wearing.”

“You look wonderful. And you do have the glow, no matter what you say.”

Montana grinned. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s not a glow. It’s panic.”

“You’ll be a great mother.”

“I hope so. Anyway, my mom is thrilled. She went from having only one grandson for eleven years to discovering Ethan had a son he hadn’t known about to Dakota adopting Hannah last year to Dakota having Jordan Taylor and me having a girl this year.” She drew in a breath. “That’s a really long sentence.”

Annabelle laughed. “No baby name for you yet?”

“We’re still negotiating.” Montana’s gaze turned speculative. “I heard Rafe’s hunky brother has moved to Fool’s Gold permanently. Have you met him? Is he all they claim?”

“Shane? He’s attractive.” Annabelle hesitated, not sure what else to say. She wasn’t ready to admit the tingles to anyone.

“I do love a cowboy,” Montana said with a sigh. “Not for anything serious, of course. Simon is about the best man on the planet. I’m so lucky to have him.” She grinned. “But a girl can always enjoy a floor show, right? Have you seen the third Stryker brother? Clay?”

“I’ve seen his butt.” Clay was a professional model and butt double in the movies. His, um, assets had been featured in more than one film.

“Impressive,” Montana said with a grin. “He’s one confident guy.”

Too pretty for her tastes, Annabelle thought. Shane was handsome in a rugged way. Clay would always be the best-looking guy in the room. That was more pressure than she would be comfortable with.

“So what about your love life?” Montana asked. “Just to give you fair warning, weddings tend to come in threes lately. You’re friends with Heidi, so that means you’re at risk. Or lucky, depending on how you look at it.”

“No, thanks,” Annabelle said easily. “I’m not interested.”

“Not a big believer in the big L?”

“I do believe in love. It’s just…” She shrugged. “I thought I had bad luck with men, but maybe I’m as much to blame. When I finally found who I thought was the one, I ended up with a controlling, egotistical husband who expected me to play the part of the fawning wife.”

“Ouch.”

“It wasn’t pleasant. But lately I’ve been wondering if it was all him, as I would like to say, or if some of it was me? I think I shelved a big part of myself in order to please him and it was only when things got really bad that I realized he had no idea who I really was. I haven’t been strong enough. You know, like the Máa-zib women. I want the real thing, but only if the guy in question also wants the real me. I want love that’s honest and messy. I’m done with safe and polite.”

With her past, she’d been so determined to make the right choice. To be part of one of those couples who stayed together for sixty or seventy years, then died holding hands. Lewis had made her believe he was exactly who she’d been looking for and she had done the same for him. But the truth was, they had never been right for one another.

“Sorry,” Montana said, touching her arm. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“It’s fine. I wish things had been different. Honestly, I’ve practically given up on finding the one.”

“How about dating?”

“Not successful so far.”

“Don’t forget to have a little faith,” Montana told her. “Love shows up when you least expect it. Look at me. The first time I met Simon, I thought he was some stick-up-the-butt jerk with the sense of humor of a rock.” She laughed. “He thought I was a twit, but a very sexy twit. Now we’re together and having our first baby. Sometimes I wake up and wonder what I did to get so lucky.”

Her friend made falling in love sound wonderful. Annabelle wanted to believe, but she’d been wrong before. It was time for a new strategy—one that involved staying true to herself.

* * *

FOOL’S GOLD KNEW HOW to put on a party, Shane thought as he made his way through town on the Fourth of July. There were carnival rides, food vendors, kid-friendly games in the park and plenty of people. Although it was still early in the afternoon, the sidewalks were crowded and he found himself getting separated from his brother and Heidi.

Not a bad thing, he reminded himself, pausing to let more distance come between them. When Rafe had suggested Shane come along to see how the town celebrated, he’d agreed without thinking the details through. Like the fact that Rafe and Heidi were crazy in love and watching them make goo-goo eyes at each other reminded a guy how alone he was. And how that was unlikely to change.

He was glad his work-only, work-always brother had loosened up enough to find someone as great as Heidi and hoped they would be happy together. But Shane didn’t need the 3-D illustration of what he would never have. Not while he was obsessed with Annabelle.

If he could forget about her, maybe he would have a shot with someone more…regular. A sensible kind of woman who had a great smile. A woman he could grow to love in a rational way. That’s what he wanted. A safe relationship. Not heat and fire and desperate longing. In that kind of situation, he was going to end up little more than a pile of ash on the sidewalk.

Up ahead, Heidi started looking around. When she spotted him, she walked back and linked arms with him.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Is this a great town or what?”

“I remember the Fourth being a big deal when I was a kid, but this celebration is more impressive than I remember.”

“I’m glad.” She leaned against him. “You never had Rafe’s issues with the town?”

“No. I liked it here.”

Rafe, the oldest of the Stryker children, had been the one to try to step into the role of caretaker after their father died. He’d still been a kid himself, but he’d worried about his siblings and their mother, had worked too hard and often gone hungry so everyone else had enough to eat.

It had taken Shane years to figure out what his brother had given up. By the time he had, Rafe had already been in college—Harvard, on a scholarship—and on the road to success. For Shane, Clay and Evangeline, Fool’s Gold had been the best place in the world. For Rafe, it was where he’d been poor and scared and hungry.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been more help with your house,” Heidi said. “Between the goats and the wedding, I’m swamped. But I’ll make time.”

He was having a house built, or he would as soon as he approved the plans. He knew exactly what he wanted with the stables, but the decisions for the house baffled him. There were hundreds of different kinds of door handles. He couldn’t understand why his contractor was uncomfortable making those decisions.

“It’s not your problem,” he told her. “I’ll figure it out.”

“You could ask your mom when she gets back.”

“No, thanks.” Not only was she traveling with Glen, Shane didn’t want to live in a house his mother had built. He was sure she had great taste, but that was too strange for him. “It’s a few fixtures. I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.” Heidi patted his arm. “Want to ride a pony?” she asked with a grin, pointing to the line of small children waiting their turn. “My treat.”

He shuddered. “No.”

“Not a pony fan?”

“They’re mean.”

“Not every single one on the planet.”

He groaned. “Now you sound like my mother.”

He was going to say more, but before he could speak, he felt a heat flare in his body. Were he out in the wild, he would assume he was being stalked by an animal. Here, in this crowd, there was only one danger. And it, or she, was getting closer.

He turned and spotted Annabelle talking to a firefighter. It took him a second to tear his gaze away from the stunning redhead long enough to recognize Charlie Dixon, the woman who owned Mason and boarded him at the ranch.

Annabelle looked up and saw him and Heidi. She waved, said something to Charlie and the two women approached. He braced himself for impact.

Today Annabelle had dressed to cause mayhem wherever she went. The swingy little sundress was pale green, with skinny straps. Her hair was a mass of wavy curls and tumbled down her back. Shane had to hang on to every fiber of self-control to keep from pulling her under the nearest bush and taking advantage of her in every way possible.

“Hi,” Annabelle said as she approached. “Shane, do you know Charlie?”

The firefighter, tall and muscular with big blue eyes and an appealingly sarcastic eye roll, sighed. “I keep my horse on his family’s ranch. Of course I know Shane.”

“Right.” Annabelle grinned. “She’s crabby. Charlie hates the Fourth of July.”

“I don’t hate the holiday,” Charlie muttered. “I hate people being stupid and today is one day they’re experts at it. Do you know how many calls we’re going to get because idiots who can’t read simple instructions will catch somebody’s roof on fire with fireworks? It’s pyrotechnics, people. Know what you’re doing or leave it to the professionals.”

Annabelle patted her arm. “Deep cleansing breaths.”

“I’ll be calm tomorrow.” Charlie drew her eyebrows together. “What about the animals at the Castle Ranch? Can they hear the fireworks?”

Heidi shook her head. “We’re too far out of town. Don’t worry, though. Shane’s heading back early and will be taking care of them.”

“Thanks. I’m concerned about Mason,” Charlie admitted.

“You’re a good horse mom,” Annabelle told her. “And Mason is really nice. He was very calm with me. Although I think he’s mocking me when I flop around on him.”

“He is,” Charlie told her cheerfully. “But he’s a good guy. Imagine what a horse with attitude would be thinking.”

“Like Khatar,” Heidi murmured. “He scares me.”

“Khatar?” Annabelle shook her head. “Why would he scare you? He’s so sweet.”

Shane had used the distraction of the women’s conversation to talk himself off the sexual ledge. Now he managed to clear his throat and actually speak.

“Khatar got out while Annabelle was over a couple of days ago. He seems to like her.”

“For lunch?” Charlie asked.

Annabelle grinned. “Even I know horses are vegetarians.”

“If one was going to make an exception, it would be him. You be careful.”

“I’m fine. He was practically snuggling. He’s not what you think.”

Heidi looked as doubtful as Charlie. “Keep your distance, Annabelle. He’s nothing like Mason or Shane’s other horses.”

“I’ll keep her safe,” Shane said.

One of Charlie’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t say anything.

“At least Khatar won’t be in the way much longer,” Heidi said.

“Where’s he going?” Annabelle asked Shane. “You didn’t sell him, did you?”

“No. I bought about two hundred acres next to the Castle Ranch. I’m having stables built, along with a house.”

Annabelle grinned. “What? You don’t want to live with your mother and her boyfriend forever?”

He groaned. “Not to mention my brother and his fiancée? No.”

“Speaking of your brother, I’d better go find him,” Heidi said.

“I’ll walk you,” Charlie told her. “I have to get back to the station.”

Shane expected Annabelle to go with them, but she stayed with him and seconds later, despite the hundreds of people milling around them, he found himself alone with her.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you the town. You can tell me how it’s different from when you were a kid here.”

There was no polite way to tell her no and, in truth, he liked the idea of spending time with her. Assuming he could figure out a way to keep his hands to himself and think about something other than the way her mouth would feel against his.

His grand plan fizzled to dust when she linked arms with him and leaned close. “As you know,” she began. “Fool’s Gold is the festival capital of the country. Maybe the world.” She glanced up at him and smiled.

Her mouth was moving, so he knew she was still talking, but he couldn’t hear anything but a buzzing sound. Heat hit him with the subtlety of a bull rider slamming into the group. There was something about her face—the perfect shape, the dark green of her eyes, the thick lashes, the flash of white teeth when she smiled up at him.

Even in the middle of the crowd, with food stands all around, he could breathe in the soft scent of her perfume. Or maybe it was just her. A combination of vanilla and invitation.

“Shane?”

He promised himself when he got back to the ranch he would bang his head against the closest wall until he knocked some sense into himself.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s okay. Now, what do you remember about being a kid here?”

He focused on the question. It was a whole lot safer than focusing on her. “That I loved the ranch. There was always so much to do. I had my brothers, my friends. When Mom told us we had to move, I threatened to run away. We were all sad to leave—except for Rafe.”

“Heidi mentioned he didn’t want to come back.” She laughed. “He’s stuck now. Falling in love will do that to a guy.” She turned her head and her long hair brushed against his forearm. “Was it always your plan to move back here?”

“No. I knew I wanted my own ranch, and I’ve been planning for that, but I hadn’t settled on a location until Rafe and my mom told me that they’d bought the Castle Ranch. I came out to visit, saw the land next door and bought it.”

“Impressive. And here I am excited that I just paid off my car.” She frowned. “There’s no house, right? You’re having that built.”

He drew in a breath. “Yes, but it’s slow going. The stables are easy. I know what I want and don’t want. But the house is a pain in the ass. Every time I turn around, the contractor has more questions. Lights, sinks, countertops, appliances.”

“Not a big shopper?” she asked, her green eyes bright with amusement.

“No.”

“If only there was a kit, right? Generic house surfaces and finishes. You pick one from column A, two from column B and, voilà, a house.”

“You’re mocking me.”

“A little. But mostly because it’s easy.”

“Thanks,” he grumbled. “Did you build your house?”

“No. I’m renting a charming rambler and it came with things like sinks and appliances. I would love to make some changes, but my landlord doesn’t share my thrill for interior design. He has let me paint the walls a color other than white, which I appreciate.” She grinned. “I confess I love all those decorating shows on TV and I’m the first one to read the home style magazines when they come into the library.”

They paused by a row of food carts. He motioned to the offerings—everything from fresh-squeezed lemonade to cotton candy.

“What would you like?” he asked.

“I’m good.”

He’d been hoping she would get a drink and maybe something to eat. Anything that would cause her to untangle herself from him. Not that he didn’t enjoy her pressed up against him, but that was part of the problem. He enjoyed it too much.

Two boys ran past, nearly bumping into her. Annabelle shifted out of the way, which brought her breasts in direct contact with his chest. He clenched his jaw and did his best not to groan as the sensual burn seared through him.

“Sorry,” she said, stepping away. “I do love the life in this town, but it can get a little crowded during holidays.”

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, willing himself to think about granite and tile choices. Anything to keep the blood from pushing south and taking up residence.

“I moved here last year. I got lucky. I was looking to start over and found this job right away.” She glanced at him. “I was married. After my divorce, I wanted to settle somewhere far, far away.”

“Where did you move from?”

“North Carolina.”

“That is far. You don’t have a Southern accent.”

“I grew up in Arizona.”

“How do you like this coast?”

“I love it. There are seasons here. We have snow.” She smiled. “I was a little nervous about learning to drive in the white stuff, but it wasn’t too bad. I have great tires and nerves of steel. Or maybe just a really strong plastic. Either way, I survived. I took my first snowboarding lesson.”

“How was it?”

She laughed. “Horrible. I swear my instructor was twelve and he couldn’t stop laughing at me.”

Shane doubted he was laughing at her. “You’ll do better this year.”

“I hope so.” The humor faded. “I was nervous about starting over, but it’s been good.” She glanced at him from under her lashes. “I understand there’s an ex–Mrs. Shane Stryker in your past.”

“There is.”

“Regrets?”

“About it being over? No. Rachel was a mistake from start to finish. I never should have married her.”

Annabelle came to a stop in front of him. “Wow. Still putting energy into what went wrong?”

“No, but I’m grateful every day to be apart from her.”

“What was she like?”

They were standing less than a foot apart. Everything about her tempted him. If he closed his eyes, he would still be able to picture everything about her. Worse, would be able to hear her laugh—a sound that had become as appealing as the rest of her.

“A disaster.”

Annabelle grinned. “You’re not going to answer the question?”

He paused, then spoke the truth. “She was a lot like you.”

* * *

“MOM’S TALKING ABOUT getting you a wading pool,” Shane said.

One of Priscilla’s ears flickered with interest. “At least you’re talking to me. That’s something.”

The elephant turned her large head toward him, her trunk lightly brushing against his arm, as if reminding him he had no one to blame but himself.

“I know,” he muttered. “I’m the bad guy.”

He hadn’t meant to hurt Annabelle’s feelings the previous day. When he’d said she reminded him of Rachel, her eyes had widened, she’d gone pale, then excused herself and walked away.

“Maybe I should have gone after her.”

Priscilla’s wise expression clearly asked, “You think?”

“But that would have meant catching her.” Stopping her, possibly by putting his hand on her shoulder. Then what? He had a bad feeling that a single touch was all it would take.

It was early, barely after dawn. Shane hadn’t slept much the night before so he’d already been awake when it had been time to get up to take care of the animals. His horses and his mother’s misfit collection of elderly llamas, sheep and Priscilla didn’t much care about his state of mind. They wanted breakfast.

The back door slammed. Shane saw his brother stalking toward him and knew that word had spread.

Rafe came to a stop by the fence line and glared at him. “What the hell?”

“Morning to you, too,” Shane grumbled.

“Heidi and Annabelle are friends.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t care. You’re going to hear it. Annabelle’s hurt, Heidi’s pissed and I’m caught in the middle. What did you say to her?”

“We were talking about Rachel.”

“Great first-date material.”

“We’re not dating.”

“Good. Last I heard, even you weren’t that stupid around women.”

Shane let himself out of Priscilla’s enclosure. He reminded himself he didn’t want to fight with his brother, although at the moment, he couldn’t figure out why not.

“She asked what Rachel was like and I said she reminded me of her.”

Rafe stared at him in disbelief. “You ranted about Rachel,” he began.

“I didn’t rant.”

“You always rant about her. You went on and on about how bad she was then told Annabelle she was just like her.”

Shane thought longingly of the coffee he hadn’t had yet. “Not just like her.”

“Close enough.” Rafe swore under his breath. “I don’t like Heidi upset.”

“I’ll apologize.”

“To Annabelle?”

Shane nodded. Maybe it wouldn’t be an issue. Maybe Annabelle would avoid him now.

“She’s nothing like Rachel,” Rafe told him. “Rachel was a bitch. Annabelle’s nice.”

“Not in personality,” Shane said quickly. “I didn’t mean that. It’s more…”

Rafe waited, but Shane just shook his head. No way he was going to confess that the need to possess was just as powerful as it had been with his ex-wife. The difference was, he enjoyed spending time with Annabelle.

“She’s dangerous,” he said at last.

“What? She’s a librarian!”

“Have you seen her?”

“Sure. Short with red hair. So what?”

So what? She was temptation incarnate. “The librarian thing is a cover.”

Rafe groaned. “You’re in trouble. Just fix it. I don’t want to have to hear about what a jerk you are from Heidi.”

Shane nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

If only he could figure out exactly how.

CHAPTER FOUR

ANNABELLE TOLD HERSELF she would be the bigger person. Possibly for the first time in her life, she thought, managing a smile. Maybe she was making too big a deal out of what Shane had said. It’s just he’d obviously hated his ex and then to have him say she reminded him of the woman had been disconcerting. And okay, it had hurt a little.

“I need to learn to ride,” she said aloud, then squared her shoulders and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “For the bookmobile.”

She needed to keep her eyes on the prize. The festival to raise the money would culminate with the dance. She was the one who had said she would learn to do it. Someone had anonymously donated the money for riding lessons. It’s not like she was going begging.

Someone tapped on the driver’s side window of her parked car. She yelped and jumped in her seat, then saw Shane standing there.

Her first instinct was to drive back home. But she was already here and they needed to come to terms.

She hit the button to lower her window. “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself. I wasn’t sure you’d show up.”

She tried to tell if he was pleased or disappointed, only his dark eyes were impossible to read.

“I’m sorry,” he said abruptly. “About what I said. I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“How did you mean it?”

He hesitated, then drew in a breath. “Can I pass on that one?” He reached through the open window and pulled up the lock, then opened her door and held out his hand. “I’d like very much to teach you to ride and teach one of the horses to do the dance. If you’ll accept my apology.”

If she’d been standing, she would have stomped her foot. Now he was being all nice and conciliatory. If she said no, she would look like she was pouting. Plus, she really did need the lessons.

“That would be great,” she said, and placed her hand in his.

For a second, she thought she felt a little tingle, but told herself she was imagining it. It had to be static electricity.

He helped her out of her car, then released her.

“I’ll get Mason,” he told her as he closed her car door. Shane suddenly stiffened and swore under his breath.

She turned and saw Khatar trotting toward them.

“I changed the lock on his gate,” Shane said. “Stay back.”

Annabelle ignored him and walked toward the beautiful white stallion. “He’s smart and handsome. Aren’t you, big guy? Who’s a clever horse?” As she spoke, she reached up and stroked his face.

Khatar stepped closer, as if eager to be near. He angled his body between her and Shane, then lowered his head so he could press it against her chest.

“You’re quite the kitten, aren’t you?” She looked over his ears toward Shane. “You should let me ride him.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Is it because he’s expensive? I’ll be careful. Doesn’t he need exercise? Couldn’t I do that? He’s so sweet.”

“He’s not sweet.”

If he hadn’t looked so serious and worried, she would have laughed. “You must be confusing him with another horse,” she said, and wrapped her arms around the horse’s strong neck. “You wouldn’t hurt me, would you?”

“You can’t ride him.”

There was something in Shane’s tone. Something that made her want to stick out her tongue and remind him he wasn’t the boss of her. Not exactly mature.

She told herself this was his horse and he had the right to say who could ride him and who couldn’t. Still, Khatar was so friendly.

“Could I try?” she asked.

“No.”

“For a minute?”

“He’ll throw you then trample you.”

“He won’t. He adores me. I’ll show you.”

She was standing by the fence, with the horse between her and Shane. In one quick move, she climbed onto a lower rung and reached for the horse. Khatar moved toward her, turning to give her a better angle. Shane’s entire body stiffened as his face went white.

“Annabelle, don’t!”

His tone was frantic. She realized he wasn’t kidding about his concern. She started to get down, only to slip on the wood and start to fall. She caught herself by grabbing onto Khatar. He stayed perfectly still, as if wanting to make sure she didn’t get hurt.

Shane came around the front of him and stared. “Well, I’ll be.”

“Dangling here,” she reminded him, her feet flailing as she started to slip.

Shane reached for her and grabbed her around her waist.

“Give me a leg up,” she said.

For a second, he didn’t move, as if he couldn’t decide. Then he guided her foot to his thigh.

She pushed against him and found herself going up and over, then settling on Khatar’s back. There was no saddle, nothing to hang on to.

“This might have been a bad idea,” she whispered.

“That’s what I said.”

Khatar started walking. She hung on with her thighs and discovered she could easily adjust to his steady rhythm.

Shane watched them, then shook his head. “You win. I’ll get the bridle and we’ll see what he’s willing to do.”

He disappeared into the barn, then reappeared with the bridle. Khatar walked over and stuck out his head toward the leather straps. Shane slid the bit into his mouth and then adjusted everything and handed her the reins.

“Go for it,” he said.

They circled the barn a couple of times. When Shane held open a gate to a corral, she urged the horse in that direction and he did as she asked.

“He would look amazing painted,” she said.

Shane winced. “I can trace his bloodlines back three hundred years.”

“It’s water-based paint. It would come right off.”

“That’s not much in the way of comfort.”

“I have a costume,” she offered. “If that helps.”

“It doesn’t.”

“The ceremony also includes a male sacrifice. I’m supposed to cut out a guy’s heart.” She patted Khatar’s shoulder. “Not for real, of course. Just pretend.”

“Good to know.”

“I haven’t had any volunteers.”

“Are you surprised?”

He talked her through a series of turns, then whistled the horse into a trot. The bouncing of her entire body on his bare back wasn’t pleasant, but she survived.

“Had enough?” Shane asked a half hour later.

“I think my insides have turned into a milkshake.” Annabelle pressed her hand to her stomach. “But Khatar was great. I told you he was friendly.”

“Just for you.” He grabbed the reins and led the horse to the side of the corral. “You going to be able to stand when you touch ground?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, hoping she wasn’t lying, then eyed the horse’s bare back. “What do I hold on to as I slide down?”

“I’ll catch you.”

She was less sure about that. Mason had been big, but at least there’d been a saddle to grab on to. With Khatar there was only his mane and she had a feeling that his good mood would disappear if she used that to lower herself to the ground.

Deciding she would be safer seeing what she was about to crash into, she swung her leg over his neck and sat facing Shane, then pushed off Khatar and slid down and down until her feet touched packed earth.

For a second she managed to keep her balance. Then her thighs gave way and she started to collapse.

“Didn’t we already do this?” Shane asked, grabbing her around the waist and holding her up.

“I thought I would do better,” she admitted, putting her hands on his shoulders and willing herself to stay upright.

The tingles she’d experienced earlier returned. Along with the zings and zips from the last time she’d been riding. Although it wasn’t the riding that seemed to be a problem. It was being held by Shane. And maybe problem wasn’t the right word. Complication seemed like a better fit.

Which was really interesting, because wasn’t she the one looking for messy? And weren’t complications really close to a mess?

He didn’t wear a hat, she thought absently. Weren’t cowboys supposed to wear hats? Not that she minded. His dark hair gleamed in the bright sun. He wore it short enough that the slight wave didn’t turn into curls.

His eyes were made up of various shades of brown and there were crinkles in the corners from when he smiled. Only he wasn’t smiling now. He was looking serious and sexy.

She told herself not to look at his mouth. Or think about what that mouth could do to her. So she kept her gaze on his eyes, which turned out to be equally dangerous, because it seemed to her a woman could get lost in his gaze. Get lost and never find her way back.

* * *

“I WAS AN IDIOT,” Annabelle said, poking at her salad with her fork. “I stood there like a fifteen-year-old with a crush on the football captain.”

“Did you babble?” Charlie asked before taking a bite of her burger.

“No. I ran. As soon as I could safely move without my legs giving way, I ran to my car and left.”

Charlie chewed, then swallowed. “I would have paid money to see that.”

“This is not you being supportive.”

They were having a quick lunch at the Fox and Hound. Annabelle had felt the need to confess her reaction and knew she could trust Charlie to keep the information to herself. Normally she would have told Heidi, too, but with Heidi engaged to Shane’s brother, it was feeling a little too incestuous as it was.

“So you wanted to have your way with Shane,” Charlie said. “Big deal.”

“I didn’t,” Annabelle protested, then dropped her fork. “Fine. I did. But I can’t. He’s teaching me to ride.”

“So? He’s a good-looking single guy. Last time I checked, you were single. What’s the big deal? He’s not a relative or your priest.”

“No, but…” She picked up her fork again. “This was easier when I worried he’d been dropped on his head.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind.” She took a sip of her iced tea. “All I wanted was to learn to ride well enough to do the traditional dance of the female warrior. It’s not a big dream, I know, but it was mine.”

“You’re still going to learn to ride. Shane will teach you. And if you’re very good, he’ll show you his manroot.”

Annabelle burst out laughing. “His what?”

Charlie grinned. “Okay, better. I couldn’t stand seeing you all depressed. You found a guy who probably thinks you’re hot. You want him. That’s good. Quit beating yourself up over that.”

“Manroot?”

“I read it somewhere.”

“I don’t think I want to ask where.” Her mood restored, she took a big bite of her salad.

Charlie was right. So she found Shane attractive. Lots of guys were. As to the tingles, she would think about them. Sure, he was a little too hung up on his ex, but that was all about passion, right? As long as he was totally over her. Because a man capable of that much feeling was the kind who put it all on the line.

“You’re about to launch into a recap of your pathetic love life, aren’t you?” Charlie picked up her burger. “Not every guy is your ex.”

“I know. No recap, I promise. This despite the fact that I married Lewis. I dated him, I trusted him, I thought I fell in love with him and I agreed to spend the rest of my life with him.”

“Are you sorry you left?”

“No. Of course not.”

Lewis had been older, by twelve years, a somewhat successful, nearly famous author. He’d impressed her with his intelligence, his worldliness. He’d traveled everywhere, had lots of interesting stories. He was always the center of attention, so when he noticed her, she felt special. Wanted.

But she’d discovered that Lewis’s stories were more fiction than truth and that while he seemed to know about many different topics, his information was superficial at best. He’d personified the concept of all flash and no substance.

“It took me a long time to figure out he wasn’t what I thought,” she admitted. “That he never really loved me, he loved what I represented.”

“The trophy wife?” Charlie asked dryly.

“A little. Which is strange because he was always telling me that I was lucky he’d married me. That no one else would want me.”

“Have you looked in the mirror?”

“Not lately.”

“You should.”

Annabelle smiled. “You’re a good friend.”

“I know. You should be sending me gifts and tweeting about my virtues on a daily basis.” She picked up a French fry. “We all have secrets.”

“What are yours?” Annabelle asked, not expecting an answer.

Charlie shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

Annabelle stared at her. “Want to elaborate?”

As a rule, Charlie didn’t talk all that much about her past. Annabelle knew that her friend hadn’t grown up in the area. That she was from somewhere back east. There had been hints of a difficult mother and a father who had died unexpectedly. But little else.

Charlie took a deep breath and seemed to steady herself before answering. “I was date-raped in college.”

Annabelle’s stomach clenched and the small amount of food she’d already eaten lurched threateningly. “No,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry.”

Charlie shrugged. “It happens.”

“No, it doesn’t. That’s awful.” She didn’t have a lot of experience with the topic and wasn’t sure what to say. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Yes.” Charlie rubbed her forehead. “This is why I don’t usually mention it. It’s done and over. Only I can’t seem to move on.”

She drew in a breath. “I went on a date in college with this really good-looking guy. He played football and was a senior. The whole cliché thing, right? But I didn’t see it coming.”

Annabelle winced. “You thought he really liked you.”

“Exactly. Instead, he was using me for sex. Things went further than I wanted and when I tried to stop him, he raped me. I was a virgin and it was horrible.”

“Did you report him?”

Charlie’s mouth twisted. “Oh, yeah. I went to campus police and they brought him in. I was smart enough not to shower. There was DNA evidence.”

“Then I don’t understand. If you had proof…”

Charlie looked past her. “They didn’t believe me,” she said flatly. “I heard him talking to the cops. He actually laughed and said to look at me, then look at him. Was there even one person who wouldn’t believe I’d have to be begging him before he would put out?”

She returned her gaze to Annabelle. “The police had called my mother. When she showed up and met him, she came and told me it was rude to lead a guy on. And that I shouldn’t lie about something like being raped.”

Charlie’s expression never changed. Except for the tension in her mouth, there were no hints that something was wrong. Only Annabelle could guess the truth. That Charlie had been devastated, as anyone would be. But her pain had been worse because no one had taken her side and those she trusted most had thought it was a joke.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Yeah? Me, too.” Charlie picked up her burger, then put it down. “I keep telling myself it was a long time ago. That I’m over it. And I am. Sort of. But it’s why I don’t date.”

“You’re afraid to trust anyone.”

“A guy,” Charlie corrected. “I trust my female friends.”

Annabelle raised her eyebrows. “And yet you don’t want to date any of us.”

Charlie grinned. “You offering?”

“No, but I could ask around.”

“I’ll pass.”

“You haven’t dated at all since the attack?”

“A little. But it never goes anywhere.” Charlie’s smile faded. “It’s not like guys are lining up to ask or anything.”

“That’s because you make sure they know you’re not interested.” Annabelle turned the information over in her mind. “So you haven’t, um, you know, done it since?”

Charlie shook her head. “Why would I want to? It was horrible. Everything about that night was terrifying. It’s not like I miss it, right?”

Only her tone was slightly wistful.

Annabelle touched her hand. “You’re the strongest person I know, Charlie. And the bravest. You can’t let that jerk win.”

“He’s not.”

“Yes, he is. You’ve shut off an important part of yourself because of him. Maybe you don’t want to get married and have a family, but at least you owe it to yourself to find out. There are plenty of nice guys out there.”

“Do you see me with a nice guy?”

“At this point, I think it would be a very good idea.”

“He’s not winning,” Charlie repeated, but she sounded less sure. “I refuse to let him win.”

“Better,” Annabelle told her. “Have you thought about talking to a professional?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Therapy? Hardly. I’d rather take out my issues on a punching bag.”

“Or the guy in question?”

“He’s not worth it.” Charlie sighed. “You’re right. I’ve ignored what happened for years. I guess I need to work through it or something and move on.”

“How can I help?”

“You’re doing it just by listening. Thanks.”

Annabelle nodded and returned to her salad. She no longer felt like eating, but knew that if she didn’t, Charlie would get on her case.

Although she hated what had happened to her friend, she was glad she knew the truth. The situation explained a lot about Charlie’s attitude on everything from trust to men. She had a long road back to find something close to normal. Still, Annabelle was confident she would get there and that her friends would want to make sure that happened.

* * *

“THANKS FOR MEETING ME,” Shane said as Annabelle got out of her car and walked toward him.

“You were very cryptic,” she said with a laugh. “How could I resist?”

Sunlight suited her, he thought, bracing himself for the inevitable rush of wanting. It delivered right on cue, as he took in the soft wavy curls, the pale skin and temptation in her green eyes. Heat flared, desire exploded and he found himself wishing they were alone someplace quiet and dark. Like his bedroom. Or hers. He wasn’t picky.

Instead they were in a parking lot outside his contractor’s office. In the middle of the day. On the edge of downtown Fool’s Gold. Not exactly the place for a rendezvous. Not that Annabelle was offering.

She approached on her ridiculously high-heeled sandals, her skirt flirting with her thighs. Her T-shirt was simple and shouldn’t have been sexy, but was, hugging curves in a way that made his mouth water.

She stopped in front of him and waited, obviously expecting him to explain why he’d asked her to join him here.

“I need help,” he said, hoping she didn’t realize how true that statement was. “I told you before, I’m having a house built, along with stables and corrals. I can handle the horse-related decisions. I know how big I want the stalls, where the windows will be placed and all the hardware I need for their safety.”

She smiled. “That’s good because I wouldn’t have a clue. So what’s the problem?”

“The house. Jocelyn keeps emailing lists of questions I have to answer and I don’t have a clue. Do you know how many light fixtures there are in a kitchen alone? Overhead, pendant, under counter. There are switches and finishes and appliances. Paint colors, flooring.” He didn’t want to think about it all. “I don’t have time.”

“Or interest,” Annabelle said with a grin. “Poor Shane. You’re such a guy.”

“Meaning?”

“You really do want a house kit. One that comes fully finished and all you have to do is pick the color of beige you want the walls before you move in.”

“What’s wrong with beige?”

She laughed.

He hadn’t been kidding with the question, but okay.

“I take it Jocelyn is your contractor?” she asked.

“Yes. She’s ready to break ground on the house, but I haven’t approved the plans. I thought about asking my mom for help, but she and Glen are traveling and Heidi’s busy with the wedding.” There was more he wanted to say but he was having trouble remembering it. There was something about the way she looked at him. It made him want to pull her close and…

He cleared his throat. “You’d mentioned you really like to decorate. If you help me with the house, I won’t charge you for the riding lessons.”

Her green eyes brightened. “Seriously? I have a donation to pay for them, but I could put the money into the bookmobile fund. That would be so great.” She paused. “Are you sure? I feel like you wouldn’t be getting your money’s worth.”

“It’s a lot of house.”

“Then sure. I’m happy to help.” She moved close and linked arms with him. “Can we get a pink tub in the master? I’ve always wanted a pink tub.”

Her breast pressed into his arm. He tried telling himself he wasn’t sixteen anymore and that this wouldn’t be the highlight of his day. But there were parts that didn’t believe him.

“No pink.”

“But it’s pretty.”

They headed for the office.

Once inside, he carefully stepped away, needing the distance. He couldn’t think when she was close and if he wasn’t careful, he would be agreeing to a pink tub.

Jocelyn, a no-nonsense woman in her early fifties, was waiting for him in her small office. She looked capable, managed her crew with a fair but firm attitude and had agreed to a clause in the contract that basically gave him her firstborn if she didn’t complete the stable on time. Just as good, she’d come highly recommended.

“This is Annabelle,” he said by way of introduction.

“You didn’t tell me you were married,” Jocelyn said, holding out her callused hand. “I always need to meet the wife. I know who’s the real power player in a relationship.”

Annabelle laughed. “Not the wife. Just a friend who’s going to help Shane with all the girly stuff.”

They shook hands. Jocelyn grinned. “Got frightened by the list of finishes, right?”

“It was a longer list than I was expecting,” he admitted.

“It always is.” Jocelyn ran her hand through her short-cropped gray hair. “My advice is to give him maybe three choices in every category. No more. Men can’t handle it.”

Shane wanted to protest being talked about like that, but his bringing Annabelle along to help sort of proved Jocelyn’s point.

She led them into a conference room where the plans were laid out on a huge table.

“I need approval on the size of the house,” she said, pointing to two chairs next to each other. “We can move walls around if need be, but I want to start pulling permits and reserving equipment. In a perfect world, we’d dig out the foundation in a couple of weeks, when we start on the stables.”

“You can get started that fast?” Annabelle asked, taking a seat.

“If I get a little cooperation. This one knew everything he wanted in the stable, down to the paint color in the office. But I’d swear, he’s never been in a house before.”

“I’ve been in them,” he grumbled, settling next to Annabelle, but being careful not to lean in too close. “I’ve never built one. There’s a difference.”

“Tell me about it.” She handed Annabelle a printed list of questions. “Get me the answers to these and I’ll be a fan forever. Before you leave, if possible.” She started toward the door. “Try to keep the yelling down.”

“We won’t yell,” Annabelle told her.

Jocelyn grinned. “Then you haven’t done this before, either. Trust me, honey, there’s always yelling.”

She left, closing the door behind her.

Annabelle drew the plans toward them. “It’s your house. We’re not going to argue.” She turned and smiled at him. “Because you’re going to listen to everything I say, right?”

Her gaze captured him, holding him in place. Not that he wanted to go anywhere. “Not likely.”

She chuckled, then turned her attention to the drawings. “Okay, the house. It’s nice. I like all the windows. There’ll be plenty of light in the winter. Big master. Good his and hers closets.” She shifted slightly and her hair slipped off her shoulder to rest on the back of his hand.

The curls tickled and teased, making him want to weave his fingers through the strands. Even without trying he could breathe in the scent of her. He swore silently, reminding himself he had to maintain control.

“Hmm.” She pointed to the kitchen. “This isn’t going to work. Look at where the pantry is. Around behind the refrigerator? That’s going to be a pain. And this wall here, closing everything off.”

“You need the wall for cabinets.”

“You need a wall for cabinets. There’s a difference. The kitchen itself is great, but it’s all catawampus.”

He drew back and grinned. “It’s what?”

“Catawampus? Askew. Turned around wrong.”

“I know what the word means.”

“I was trying to talk in cowboy terms. So we could relate to each other.”

“You don’t think we’re relating now?”

Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part but he would swear she leaned a little closer. And that her lips parted as she drew in a breath.

“I do, but I wanted to make sure.” She blinked a couple of times and turned her attention back to the plans. “All you’d have to do is shift everything ninety degrees. Then the kitchen would be open to the family room and the sink would still face a window. The pantry would be accessible, like this.”

She picked up a pencil and drew a couple of quick lines.

He was more intrigued by her reaction than what she was doing. Was it possible that she felt it, too? The connection? Talk about a game changer. Not that he was looking to get involved, but there was a whole country of possibilities between interested and involved.

“I’ll talk to Jocelyn,” he told her, still watching her as he spoke.

“You and I should probably schedule some time in the home improvement store so I can get an idea of what you like. For finishes and fixtures. That will help me narrow down the choices. I know everyone is crazy about granite, but I think there are a lot of manmade finishes you could consider. They’re so easy to take care of.”

More time with her? “Sounds like a plan.”

“Good.”

She turned toward him. Their faces were inches apart. Her mouth called to him in ways that left him hungry and determined. He wanted her and if she felt the same way—

“Shane?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think of Charlie?”

It wasn’t the question he’d been expecting.

“Charlie Dixon?”

“Yes. She owns Mason. You’ve met her. What do you think of her?”

Of course he knew Charlie. He took care of her horse. “In what context?”

Annabelle smiled. “Romantically. Would you like to go out with her?”

He’d been thrown from his share of broncs, but never had he landed on his ass like this. He stared at Annabelle, wondering what he’d done to deserve it. All he wanted was a regular kind of life with a normal woman. Someone nice and caring, someone he would be faithful to and take care of. Was it asking too much?

With that description, Charlie should be exactly who he wanted. She was a walking, breathing definition of sensible. Instead he was driven mad by the bar-dancing, horse-whispering redhead in front of him.

“Shane?”

He did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed her by her shoulders, pulled her a couple of inches closer and kissed the hell out of her.

* * *

ANNABELLE HAD BEEN THINKING Shane would either say he liked Charlie fine or that she wasn’t his type. Honestly, she’d sort of been hoping for the latter, what with the tingles she’d started feeling when she was around him. But she hadn’t expected this.

His mouth was warm on hers. Firm, a little demanding, but only enough to keep things interesting. He smelled good, tasted better and he held on like he would never let go. A quality she could appreciate in a man. He was—

Need shattered her. One second she was enjoying how much she liked him kissing her and the next she was beyond frantic. Desperate, actually. She wanted to crawl into his lap and maybe inside of him. She wanted more kisses, along with some touching and even taking. Taking would be good. Very good.

She’d felt passion before, but nothing like this. Nothing had ever been so…desperate.

Moving as one, they stood, which was better. Now she could wrap her arms around his neck and lean into him. Now he could pull her even closer, then slide his hands up and down her back. She nestled against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against her curves. He wasn’t the kind of man who yielded easily. A characteristic she could get used to.

She angled her head so she could deepen the kiss. He moved the opposite way, then stroked her bottom lip with his tongue. She parted for him, hanging on to his shoulders, knowing it was going to be a wild ride.

He didn’t disappoint. At the first sweep of his tongue, fire danced through her. Her thighs heated, then went weak. The tingling returned, racing around her body before it settled in her breasts and between her thighs.

He kissed her deeply, teasing her tongue with his. She met him stroke for stroke, becoming more aroused by the second. His large hands settled at her waist. She wanted to pull them higher, to have him touch all of her. Tension made her surge against him, rocking her belly against his erection.

The proof of his need thrilled her. Although she’d managed to avoid being slutty for her entire life, right now the thought of doing it on the desk, right here, in the construction office, seemed feasible. Sensible even.

Shane broke the kiss and took a step back.

They stared at each other, their sharp breaths the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. A small measure of sanity returned, dulling the regret that he’d pulled away. Yes, it would have been amazing. Double yes, she would have had regrets.

But a girl could dream.

She cleared her throat, not completely sure she could speak in a normal voice.

“So, that would be a no on Charlie?” she asked.

“That’s a no.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“ANNABELLE! YOU’RE not listening.”

Annabelle pulled herself out of the delicious daydream that had haunted her pretty much all day. The instant replay of Shane’s kiss was nearly as powerful as the actual event had been. She wasn’t sure if that spoke to chemistry or the empty tragedy that was her love life. Maybe both.

“Sorry,” she said, smiling at the girl in front of her. “What is it, Mandy?”

“Is Shane a real cowboy? When we were at the Fourth of July festival last week, my mom said Shane was a cowboy and a half. I don’t know what that means.”

Annabelle held a smile, thinking it meant Mandy’s mom had an appreciation for a good-looking man. Having a beautiful garden of one’s own didn’t mean a person couldn’t admire someone else’s garden.

She frowned, not sure why that metaphor sounded weird, then deciding to go with it.

“Shane is a real cowboy,” Annabelle assured her. “Very much so. He has horses and knows how to ride. Oh, he was helping another cowboy with his rodeo skills, so I guess he teaches them, too.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

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

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