Hollisters and O’Dells don’t mix

Or fall in love!

Katherine O’Dell is no stranger to Three Rivers Ranch...or Blake Hollister. The wealthy rancher may not remember her, but the single mom hasn’t forgotten her unattainable teenage crush. When Katherine discovers Blake shares her attraction—and longs for a family of his own—will her secret keep her from building a life with the charismatic cowboy?

After writing more than eighty books for Mills & Boon, STELLA BAGWELL still finds it exciting to create new stories and bring her characters to life. She loves all things Western and has been married to her own real cowboy for forty-four years. Living on the south Texas coast, she also enjoys being outdoors and helping her husband care for the horses, cats and dog that call their small ranch home. The couple has one son, who teaches high school mathematics and is also an athletic director. Stella loves hearing from readers. They can contact her at www.stellabagwell@gmail.com.

Also by Stella Bagwell

The Arizona Lawman

Her Kind of Doctor

The Cowboy’s Christmas Lullaby His

Badge, Her Baby…Their Family? Her

Rugged Rancher

Christmas on the Silver Horn Ranch

Daddy Wore Spurs

The Lawman’s Noelle

Wearing the Rancher’s Ring

One Tall, Dusty Cowboy

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Her Man on Three Rivers Ranch

Stella Bagwell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07749-1

HER MAN ON THREE RIVERS RANCH

© 2018 Stella Bagwell

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

To all my wonderful readers, with much love and many thanks.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Extract

Chapter One

Blake Hollister was fuming when he walked out the front entrance of Yavapai Bank and Trust. So much so that he didn’t see the woman on the sidewalk until he’d barreled directly into her, the force of the collision causing her to stagger backward.

With lightning-quick reflexes, he grabbed a steadying hold on her upper arm to prevent her from falling to the ground.

“Oh, pardon me, ma’am. I—”

“Blake? Blake Hollister, is that you?”

His hand continuing to grip her upper arm, he stepped back to survey the young woman he’d very nearly knocked off her feet. Shiny black hair, ocean-gray eyes and a soft wide mouth tilted in a tentative smile. Did he know this beautiful lady? She definitely seemed to recognize him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his face growing warm with embarrassment. It wasn’t like he was acquainted with a long list of women. Particularly one with a tall, curvy figure and a face like a sweet dream. If he’d met this one before, he damn well should’ve remembered the occasion. “Should I know you?”

The smile on her pink lips deepened. “It’s probably been too long for you to recall,” she told him. “I used to visit Three Rivers Ranch with my mom. She did sewing projects for your mother, Maureen.”

As he continued to take in her lovely image, recognition struck him. Could this be the raggedy little teenage girl who used to sit on the floor of the front porch and play with the dogs while their mothers discussed items to be sewn or mended?

“Don’t tell me you’re little Katherine Anderson! I can’t believe it!”

Her gray eyes sparkled, making her smile even warmer. “That was many years ago. And I wasn’t sure you even knew my name back then. My name is O’Dell now.”

Katherine Anderson had been several years younger than Blake and traveled in a totally different social circle than he and his family. And although he’d not paid any extra attention to her, he had noticed her from time to time. Mostly because she’d always looked unusually somber for someone so young.

“I remember,” he told her. “And your mother is Paulette, right?”

Appreciation flashed in her gray eyes. “That’s right.”

Recognizing his hand was still clamped around her arm, Blake dropped his hold and forced himself to put a respectable step between the two of them. “Sorry for not recognizing you right off,” he said with a rueful smile. “But you look...all grown-up.”

She laughed softly. “Believe me, you not recognizing me is a compliment. I’d hate to think I still look like my teenage years.”

He smiled at her. “I, uh, I apologize for plowing into you like that. The bank had a little mix-up on some of my accounts and the steam coming out of my ears must have blinded me.”

“No problem. It was nice running into you again. Even if it was literally,” she added impishly.

“Nice, yes.”

“Well, I’ll let you be on your way.” She extended her hand to him. “Perhaps we’ll run into each other again in another twelve years.”

Blake took her offered hand and was instantly surprised at the trusting way her fingers molded around his. Her grip was strong and warm, a reflection of the woman she’d become.

“Uh, are you busy right now?” The question blurted past his mouth before he’d realized the words were anywhere near his tongue. “If you’d like, we could walk down the street to Conchita’s and have a cup of coffee.”

Her eyebrows arched and then she glanced over both shoulders as though to make sure he was actually inviting her, rather than someone who may have been standing behind her.

“I’m running a few errands this morning,” she explained. “But a few minutes for coffee shouldn’t hurt.”

A ridiculous little thrill rushed through him. “Great, I have a few minutes, too.”

Liar, liar. You don’t have a minute to spare. Not with all kinds of work waiting on you back at Three Rivers. What the hell has come over you, Blake? She said her name was O’Dell now. That means she’s married. Or doesn’t that matter to you?

It didn’t matter if she was married, Blake mentally argued. Buying an old acquaintance a cup of coffee was hardly an indecent gesture.

He reached for her arm. “Let’s walk on this side of the street until we reach the end of the block.”

She nodded in agreement. “I was about to suggest the same thing. It’s only the first week of April, but it feels like July. And this side of the street offers a bit of shade from the blistering sun.”

As they walked along the quiet street of Wickenburg, Arizona, Blake was acutely aware of the soft, sweet scent of her perfume, the way the sun put fiery sparks in her shoulder-length black hair and the graceful sway of her hips.

“So are you here in town for long?” he asked as they paused at the street corner to check for traffic.

“I live here now,” she told him. “I moved back almost three years ago.”

Blake hoped the red he could feel on his face wasn’t that noticeable. “Oh. Mom mentioned something about you moving away. That was several years ago. I wasn’t aware you’d returned. I...don’t get away from the ranch all that much. There’s always so much to do.”

“I can understand that,” she replied. “I remember Three Rivers always being a very busy place.”

Busy? That was a mild way to describe his family business, Blake thought. As the general manager of Three Rivers Ranch, he barely had time to draw a good breath. If not for the mix-up at the bank requiring his personal attention this morning, he wouldn’t have been in town at all, much less taking time to have coffee with a woman. But that wasn’t the sort of information he needed to share with Katherine O’Dell.

They crossed the street, then traveled another half block until they reached Conchita’s coffee shop. The small pink stucco building was shaded by two large mesquite trees and offered customers outdoor seating. As they walked over a group of stepping stones that served as a sidewalk, Blake gestured to one of the tiny round tables situated on the stone patio.

“Go ahead and take a seat, I’ll get the coffee. What would you like?”

“Thank you, Blake. Make mine plain coffee with one sugar.”

He seated her at one of the wrought-iron tables and entered the coffee shop through a wooden screen door. As usual, Emily-Ann Smith was behind the counter. In one corner of the small room, a radio was playing an old standard, while a table fan stirred the scents of fresh-baked pastries displayed in neat rows inside a large glass case.

The instant Emily-Ann spotted Blake, a wide smile came over her face. “Well, Blake Hollister! Should I be worried the roof is going to crash in? It’s been ages since you’ve been in for coffee.”

The quirky young woman with long auburn hair was a childhood friend of Blake’s youngest sister, Camille. “Hello, Emily-Ann. How are things going for you?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Boring without Camille around. Is she ever going to come back home?”

“Hard to say. I think she likes living down on Red Bluff.”

“Living. Hmm. You might call it that. Hiding is the way I’d put it,” she muttered, then shook her head. “Sorry, Blake. I shouldn’t have said that. What would you like this morning? I’ve sold at least fifty lattes since I opened at six. Want to try one?”

“No, thanks. Just two plain coffees.” He placed the correct amount of bills on the counter plus a tidy tip. “One with cream. The other with one sugar.”

“Two coffees? You must be needing extra caffeine today,” she said as she turned to make his order. “Guess running a ranch like Three Rivers takes a lot of energy.”

Energy? No, it took working every waking moment, along with his very heart and soul, to make sure the one-hundred-and-seventy-year-old ranch not only remained solvent, but also kept improving. It was a task that had consumed his life for the past five years and the main reason he was still single at the age of thirty-eight.

“I have a guest with me,” he explained. “She’s waiting out at one of the tables.”

Emily-Ann peered past his shoulder to the small square of window overlooking the coffee shop’s patio.

“Oh! That’s Katherine!” She quickly made a shooing gesture toward the door. “You go on outside and I’ll bring the coffees to your table. Anything else? The brownies are still warm.”

Blake pulled more bills from his wallet. “Okay, Emily-Ann. You’re a good saleslady. Two brownies. If Katherine doesn’t want it, I’ll take it home to my niece.”

“Coming right up,” she cheerfully replied.

He left the building and joined Katherine at the tiny table. “The coffee is coming right out,” he informed her. “Along with a couple of brownies. So I hope you’re hungry.”

A wide smile spread her lips and Blake was struck all over again by the warmth of her expression.

“Does anyone have to be hungry to eat a brownie?” she asked, then glanced toward the small building. “I wasn’t aware that Emily-Ann served customers outside. She must consider you very special.”

He let out a short laugh. “Not really. I’ve known her since she was just a little kid. She and my youngest sister, Camille, went through twelve grades of school together. They’re still good friends.”

“I see. I remember Camille. She was a year or so younger than me, I think. And you had another sister, too. Vivian, right?”

She apparently remembered far more about his family than he did about hers. But that wasn’t unusual. The Hollisters had lived in Yavapai County for over a century and a half. The folks who didn’t know them personally were at least familiar with the name.

“That’s right.”

“So how are your sisters? And the rest of your family?” she asked.

She was wearing a white skirt that hugged her hips and legs, with a pale blue sleeveless blouse. Every now and then the desert breeze caused the thin fabric to flutter against the thrust of her breasts, giving him a vague glimpse of some sort of lacy garment beneath. Blake couldn’t remember the last time he’d noticed a woman’s clothing or the way she smelled. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d wanted to take a few minutes out of his day to talk to one. Yet being here with Katherine was causing everything inside him to buzz with excitement.

“They’re fine. All the family is fine,” he said, then, forcing himself, added, “Except for Dad. He died five years ago.”

A somber expression stole over her face. “Yes, my father mentioned to me that Joel Hollister had died. Something about a horse accident, is that right?”

Blake nodded stiffly. “Yes. There was a horse involved, but we’re not sure how it happened.”

At that moment Emily-Ann emerged from the coffee shop carrying their orders. She smiled coyly at Katherine as she placed the coffees and brownies on the table.

“Hi, Katherine. You’re keeping some bad company this morning, aren’t you?” she teased, her gaze rolling to Blake.

“Blake was kind enough to invite me for coffee,” she told Emily-Ann. “We’ve not seen each other in years.”

Emily-Ann chuckled. “That’s not surprising. Blake treats us townsfolk like we have the plague. He only comes around in a blue moon. You two enjoy your coffee.”

With a swirl of her long skirt, Emily-Ann turned and walked back into the building. Across the table, Katherine cast him an awkward smile. “She likes to tease.”

“It wouldn’t be Emily-Ann if she wasn’t joking about something,” he said. “Which is easier than talking about herself, I suppose. She’s not had an easy life.”

Tilting her head, she gently stirred her coffee. “Most of us haven’t.”

The wistful note in her voice caused question after question to swirl through Blake’s thoughts. The most important one being whether she was married or attached to a special man.

He took a cautious sip from his coffee. “So what brought you back to Wickenburg?” he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“My father. He suffered a stroke and wasn’t mobile enough to care for himself. My brother, Aaron, wouldn’t offer to help and Mom didn’t really care what happened to Dad. You see, she divorced him when I was eighteen—right after I’d graduated high school. That’s when she moved me and Aaron to San Diego. She’s still living there near her sister.”

So Katherine had been positioned between bitter parents, he thought ruefully. Although Blake and his siblings had lost their father, they’d been spared that kind of misery. “So you decided to shoulder the responsibility of helping your father,” he mused aloud. “How is he doing now?”

She shook her head and Blake was certain he saw a mist of tears in her gray eyes.

“He passed away a year ago, last spring.” She let out a heavy breath. “After I’d dealt with his funeral, I kept thinking there was nothing here in Wickenburg for me and then I decided I was wrong. My son likes it here. He’s made lots of friends in school and I’ve made new friends, too. Along with getting reacquainted with old ones. Plus, I have a job I like. So I decided not to uproot again.”

She had a son! Blake’s gaze instantly slipped to her left hand, but there was no sign of a wedding ring. Yet he wasn’t ready to make the deduction that she was single. She could’ve simply left the piece of jewelry off today.

“I’m sorry about your father,” he said. “I hadn’t heard.”

She shrugged. “At least he’s not suffering now.”

He took a bite of the brownie as more questions darted through his mind. “Tell me about your son.”

Her smile held the same sort of pride he saw on his mother’s face when she spoke of her children.

“Nick is my only child. He’s ten years old and at the moment he can’t decide whether he wants to be an air force pilot or a point guard for the Phoenix Suns. Next week, he might want to be a neurosurgeon. At least he loves school. So that’s one worry I don’t have.”

Envy slashed through Blake. At one point in his life, he’d hoped and planned to have a wife and several children of his own. But the closest he’d ever gotten was a broken engagement. Now, after three years of trying to forget the humiliation of being dumped before the wedding, Blake had pretty much convinced himself that marriage and a family weren’t meant for him.

“What about your husband? What does he do for a living?”

Her gaze turned out toward the street. “Cliff died seven years ago in a single-car accident. After that, it’s just been me and Nick on our own.”

Blake was stunned. This warm, beautiful woman had been a widow for seven long years? Raising a son on her own? It didn’t seem possible.

“I don’t know what to say, Katherine. Except that I wish things had gone better for you.”

She shrugged and Blake’s gaze was once again drawn to the shiny black waves brushing the top of her shoulders. He figured if he was ever close enough to bury his face in her hair, it would smell like flowers and sunshine. And her skin would feel just as smooth as it looked.

“I wish so, too,” she murmured, then cast him a lopsided smile. “But that’s enough about me. What about you? I imagine you’ve been married for ages and have at least three kids.”

His gaze fell to the brown liquid swirling in his cup. “You imagined wrong. I had a fiancée once but never had a wife. No kids, either. I guess you could say I’m married to Three Rivers Ranch.”

At least that was what Lenore had told Blake when she’d slipped off her engagement ring and handed it back to him. Even though the memory of that humiliating scene was still as fresh as the day it had happened three years ago, he wasn’t about to share it with this woman. Katherine hardly needed to know he’d been unable to hold on to his intended bride.

* * *

Blake Hollister was single! Katherine was dumbfounded. He’d seemed like the type of guy who would mature into a family man like his father, Joel. Or perhaps that was just the way Katherine had wanted to see him.

When she’d been a senior in high school, Blake had been twenty-six. Katherine had thought he was the best-looking man on earth. Tall and muscular with thick sable-brown hair and handsomely carved features. Just getting a glimpse of him had set her eighteen-year-old heart aflutter. And if by chance he did happen to pass close enough to say hello to her, she’d felt like she’d been transported to heaven.

All those years ago, she’d had a major crush on the eldest Hollister son. Yet even at that tender age, Katherine had realized dreaming about Blake in a romantic way had been as futile as wishing for snow in the middle of July. It wasn’t going to happen in this part of Arizona. Not then. And not now.

“I’m surprised, Blake,” she admitted. “Of all of your brothers, I thought you’d be the first one with a bunch of kids and a sweet wife at your side.”

His rich brown eyes focused on something beyond her left shoulder and Katherine could see her comment had left him uncomfortable. Which only made her want to ask him all kinds of personal questions. Ones that she had no business asking.

“I thought the same thing. But it hasn’t worked out that way. Actually, my brother Joe is the only one of us Hollister boys who’s taken the matrimonial plunge. He and his wife, Tessa, are expecting their first child in a few months.”

“Congratulations to them. I hope everything works out well.” She pinched off a morsel of the brownie and popped it into her mouth.

“I do, too,” he said. “They’re madly in love and Mom is excited about becoming a grandmother again.”

“Again?”

Nodding, his gaze returned to her. “Vivian has an eleven-year-old daughter, Hannah.”

“Oh, do Vivian and her family live around here? I’ve not seen her around town.”

“Viv’s been divorced for several years now. She and Hannah live on the ranch with us. Actually, she never moved away. I think her ex thought living on Three Rivers would be easier than making a home elsewhere. Guess it just wasn’t easy enough for him.”

“I’m sorry to hear things didn’t work out for your sister.” She sipped her coffee and tried to ignore the way Blake’s eyes were roaming her face, as though he was trying to decide if there was still a part of that poor Anderson girl in her, or if she’d changed completely since she’d been away.

When he’d invited her to have coffee, she’d accepted, thinking it would be nice to catch up with news about him and his family. But now that she was sitting across this tiny table from him, she realized she’d made a huge mistake. He was making her feel things she shouldn’t be feeling, remember things she’d tried so hard to forget.

“Vivian didn’t need a man like him in her life,” he said bluntly.

Like she hadn’t needed a man like Cliff in her life, Katherine thought dolefully. At least, not the man he’d turned into during the latter half of their marriage.

Shoving that dark thought away, she said, “Actually, I’m surprised Vivian hasn’t married again. I remember her being so warm and beautiful.”

“She’s gun-shy, I think.”

Katherine knew the feeling. “Since I moved back to Wickenburg, I’ve not run into any of your family around town. But I do hear snippets of gossip from time to time.”

His grunt was full of humor. “Mostly about Holt, I imagine. He still likes to break wild horses and party afterward.”

She broke off another piece of the brownie and popped it into her mouth. Not because she was hungry, but because it tasted good and something about Blake was making her so restless she needed to do something with her hands. She only wished she could make her eyes find a different object to stare at. Just looking at his rugged face reminded her that she was a woman. One who hadn’t been touched by a man in a long, long time.

“I think most of the single ladies in town think of him as a man on the prowl. I mostly remember him playing football in high school. And your brother Chandler played baseball. They were both good athletes.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen Chandler’s animal hospital on the edge of town. He’s pretty much tied to his practice and seeing after the animal health on Three Rivers. As for Holt, he manages the horse division. Even though I joke about him being a rounder, he has more knowledge in his little finger about horseflesh than I’ll ever know in a lifetime.” He paused, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I’ve said enough about my family. What about your brother, Aaron? What is he doing now?”

“He went into law enforcement. He works as a deputy for Inyo County in California.”

“The Death Valley area. He must be tough. Is he married?”

Katherine tried not to grimace. “No. He doesn’t think he’s cut out to be a family man. And frankly, I think he’s right. He has a cynical attitude about...well, love and family. I don’t think any woman could put up with him for long.”

“Ouch. Sounds like the two of you aren’t exactly close.”

“Oh, we talk occasionally. And we care about each other. At least, I care about him. But we have different ideas about things, that’s all. I tried to get him to come to Wickenburg before Dad died, but he never would. That hurt. A lot.”

He studied her closely. “And your mother? She doesn’t want to come back?”

Katherine shook her head. “She likes the Southern California climate and being close to her sister. And she says there are too many bad memories for her here.”

Before she realized Blake’s intention, he suddenly reached across the table and covered her hand with his. The physical contact practically took her breath away, but the jolt of his touch couldn’t compare to his next words.

“I’m glad you don’t feel that way, Katherine. It’s nice to have you back home.”

Home. Was she really home? Since Cliff’s death, and more recently her father’s, Katherine had begun to wonder if she would ever know the true feeling of home again.

A hard lump suddenly lodged in her throat and she tried to swallow it away before she spoke. “Thank you, Blake. When I came back—to help Dad—I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing. To say the least, our relationship had been strained. But now...well, long before he died, we made peace with each other. And that’s the most important thing. Don’t you think?”

“Absolutely.”

Lifting her gaze to his, she gave him a grateful smile. “Coming from you, Blake, that means a lot.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he continued to study her face as his thumb slowly stroked the back of her hand. The touch ignited a spark somewhere deep inside her and shot a wave of uncomfortable heat straight to her cheeks. Inside her head, a voice was commanding her to ease her hand away from his and run down the street as fast as her high heels would carry her. Yet she couldn’t seem to make herself move, or even speak.

“Katherine, I—”

The sound of his low voice snapped her paralysis and she managed to ease her hand from his hold and reach for her purse.

Before he could stop her, she rose to her feet. “Thank you for the coffee, Blake, but I really must be running. I have to be back at work by ten.”

He glanced at his watch, then got to his feet. “When we get back to my truck, I’ll drive you.”

“No need for that. My car is parked in the parking lot at Yavapai Bank and Trust. I was about to go in to do some banking business when we crashed into each other,” she explained.

“Okay,” he told her. “I’ll clear the table and then we’ll walk back.”

After tossing their coffee cups and scraps of uneaten brownies into a nearby trash bin, he reached for her arm and guided her back onto the quiet sidewalk.

“So where do you work, Katherine?”

Although the touch of his hand on her arm was featherlight, it was enough to send electrical shocks up and down her arm. No matter what man was at her side, the odd reaction would have been troubling. But this was Blake Hollister. The eldest son of the prominent ranching dynasty. The man who made sure Three Rivers Ranch remained a cattle kingdom in Southern Arizona. The only thing he could ever be to Katherine was a friendly acquaintance.

“I’m a secretary to the superintendent at St. Francis Academy. A private school over on South Saguaro.”

“You said earlier that you liked your job. Have you been there long?”

Had he always been this tall and dark? This strong and broad-shouldered? Everything about him seemed magnified ten times over since she’d last seen him. But then a man could change greatly in a matter of a few years, she thought. Her late husband was proof of that.

She answered, “Almost three years. I went to work there shortly after I returned to Wickenburg. Juggling my job and caring for my dad wasn’t easy, but I managed.”

“School will be out soon,” he remarked. “Will you have to work during the summer?”

“Only for half of each workday. I’m looking forward to having the extra time to do things with Nick. He wants to go camping.”

“Most little boys do. My brothers and I used to put up a tent out behind the cattle barn and pretend we were miles away on some lonesome mesa. That way we had to worry and watch for coyotes and mountain lions. Sometimes that was hard to do, though, when a pen of weanling calves was bawling right next to us.”

Katherine chuckled. “No doubt it was still an adventure for you. I’m not sure Nick is ready to sleep out in the backyard on his own, though.”

His smile knowing, he glanced at her. “I have an idea it’s more like his mother isn’t ready for Nick to sleep outdoors.”

She sighed. “I confess. I have sheltered him somewhat,” she admitted. “It would be different if he had siblings. But that never happened.”

Katherine had no idea why she’d added that last bit of information. Blake wasn’t interested in her past family life. He was simply carrying on a polite conversation. He didn’t care that all of her hopes and dreams for a big family had vanished as Cliff had turned away from her and buried himself in his job.

“Well, at least you have one child,” he said. “That’s more than I have.”

She started to ask him if he still hoped to have a family someday, but a quick glance ahead told her they’d reached the bank building. Which was probably a good thing. She didn’t need to know about Blake’s wants or wishes. It was none of her business whether he had a special woman in his life now, or even if he was looking to find one. Money in the bank and a closet full of fine clothes didn’t change the fact that her maiden name was Anderson.

“Here we are,” she said in an overly bright voice. “Thanks again for the coffee, Blake. And please tell your family hello for me. Especially your gracious mother.”

He released his hold on her arm, but instead of stepping away, he reached for her hand and lifted it to the middle of his chest. “I’d really like it, Katherine, if you’d come out and have dinner with me at Three Rivers.”

Was he serious? Her gaze roamed his face as she tried to figure out the motive behind his invitation. Was he simply being polite? She couldn’t think of any other reason.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose on your family.”

He frowned. “Don’t be silly. They’d all be glad to see you. But if you’d rather, we could go somewhere else for dinner.”

Totally bemused now, she looked around her, then back at him. “Are you asking me for a date, Blake?”

Her question caused his square jaw to turn a shade darker. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. Why? Is there anything wrong in that?”

Only that she was the daughter of one of the town’s worst drunks. It didn’t matter that Avery Anderson was dead and gone now. That didn’t change the fact of Katherine’s upbringing.

Stuttering, she tried to give him a reasonable answer. “Uh, well, it’s just that I—Dating is something I don’t do. I mean, not very often.”

“Then you need to let me change that.”

Her heart was suddenly tripping over itself. Blake Hollister wanted to take her on a date! If such a thing had happened twelve years ago, she would’ve fallen over in a dead faint. And she was darned close to it now.

“I don’t—”

“I know,” he interrupted. “You’ve already said you don’t date very often. Well, I don’t, either. So that puts us on equal footing.”

If possible, her heart leaped into an even faster gait. “I suppose I could think about it,” she hedged. “And you could give me a call.”

“Great!” He dropped her hand and pulled a smartphone from his pocket. “Give me your number. Or are you in the book?”

“No landline.” She gave him the number. “That’s my cell. And I can’t answer during working hours.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a grin. “I’ll call at a respectable time. And soon.”

Completely flustered now, she tugged the strap of her handbag higher onto her shoulder. “I really have to run, Blake. Goodbye.”

Stepping around him, she practically ran into the bank building. But as soon as she reached the lobby, she paused and looked through the darkened plateglass wall overlooking the street.

Blake’s tall, commanding figure was sauntering toward a black pickup truck covered with gray dust. As she watched him climb into the vehicle, then back it into the street, she decided she didn’t have anything to worry about. Blake would never call her. In fact, before the day was over, she’d bet he would delete her number from his phone and forget all about her.

And that was the way she wanted it, she thought as she continued through the lobby and straight to the nearest teller. She wasn’t about to let Blake Hollister, or any man, start filling her head or her heart with romantic dreams.

No. She had more important things to do. Like raising her son. And trying to forget that she was responsible for her husband’s death.

Chapter Two

“What are we doing here, Joe?” Blake asked cynically as he and his younger brother trudged through a narrow gulch filled with rocks and sage. “I mean, we come out here every couple of weeks and poke around like a pair of old prospectors looking for gold. And we have about as much chance of finding anything as those dream chasers did a hundred and fifty years ago.”

“We’re not looking for gold, Blake,” Joseph bluntly reminded him. “We’re looking for some sort of clue to solve our father’s death.”

“Just because Holt found our dad’s spur rowel here in this same gulch back in February, doesn’t mean we’ll find anything else,” Blake reasoned. “Besides, I’ve been thinking. Dad could have already been hanging from the stirrup when Major Bob galloped through this gulch and the rowel was raked off by a rock or bush. Whatever caused him to lose his seat in the saddle could’ve happened a long way from here.”

“That’s true,” Joseph replied. “But I don’t think so. I think he met someone here in the gulch or at the well pump. It’s only about twenty yards from here.”

Joseph had worked as a deputy sheriff for Yavapai County for more than ten years and his mind operated in a different way than Blake’s.

Straightening away from the gravel bed where he’d been searching, Blake tugged his straw cowboy hat lower over his forehead. Midafternoon in Arizona was usually hot at this time of year and today was no exception. Even with his eyes shaded by a pair of dark aviator glasses and the brim of his cowboy hat, the brightness of the sun caused him to squint as he looked across the rocky slope to where his brother stood.

“It’s been five years, Joe. Maybe it’s time we gave up.”

Joseph stared at him for a long, awkward moment, then walked over to him. “I can’t believe you’re saying that. What the hell is wrong with you? Everybody knows Major Bob didn’t spook or buck. You could set off a firecracker under that horse and he’d just stand there with a sleepy look on his face. You and I both know someone killed Dad and tried to make it look like an accident.”

“Yeah,” Blake mumbled. “But after all these years, Joe, how can we ever find enough evidence for the law to make an arrest?”

“We found the rowel. We know Dad was here on this part of the ranch even though he’d told the ranch hands that day he’d be riding a good five miles west of the ranch house. If we can find the reason why he wound up here instead, we’ll figure things out.” Joseph reached for Blake’s shoulder and gave it an encouraging shake. “Come on, brother. You’ve always stuck with me on this. Don’t start losing faith now.”

Blake tried to smile—something he admittedly didn’t do very often. It wasn’t that he was a grouch or a negative person. It was just that smiling and laughing felt awkward to him. His family often called him the judge. They didn’t understand that ever since Joel had died, the heavy weight of running this seven-hundred-thousand-acre ranch had landed squarely on his shoulders. Not only did the family’s financial security depend on Three Rivers’s solvency, but there was also the family legacy to continue. Hollisters of past generations had first built Three Rivers back in 1847. It was Blake’s job to see the ranch remained sound well into the next generation. With that kind of responsibility, he didn’t have much urge to laugh or smile.

“I’m not losing faith, Joe. I only wish some sort of definite clue would turn up. And I—” He paused, his gaze scanning the rocky terrain dotted with thorny chaparral, chollas and the occasional mesquite tree. “When I look around this place, I start imagining Dad and what he must have gone through that day. I wonder if he was fighting for his life. Or did someone ambush him from behind and he never knew what hit him? The questions stab me right in the heart.”

“I feel the same way, Blake. Everyone in the family wonders about those things. Especially Mom.”

Blake released a heavy breath. “She rarely mentions Dad’s death. She only talks about the good memories.”

“That’s because those times are the most important thing to her. The wonderful years Dad was alive and with us,” Joseph replied. “Not the way he died.”

Amazed at Joseph’s calm, perceptive attitude, Blake turned his gaze back to his brother. For years Joseph had been driven to find the answers to their father’s death. As a deputy, he’d used every spare hour he could find to pore over the case that the late Sheriff Maddox had ruled an accident. But now that Joseph had fallen in love with Tessa and made her his wife, his priorities, even his attitude, had definitely changed. Instead of being driven, he took things in stride. Instead of going around with a scowl on his face, his expression was one of composed strength.

It was hard for Blake to believe that love and a coming baby had made such a change in his brother, but the evidence was standing right in front of him. And the reality left Blake more than envious.

“Yeah. The most important,” Blake muttered.

Joseph gently slapped a hand against the middle of Blake’s back. “Come on. Let’s head back. It’s my day off and I promised to meet Tessa in town. She’s still buying things for the nursery. I don’t know how much more stuff she’s going to squeeze into that room. Our little one isn’t going to need clothing for at least two years. She’s already bought our child a pair of cowboy boots.”

Blake’s lips twisted into a semblance of a smile. “Guess she’s planning on the kid being a rancher. God help the little tyke.”

The two men began to climb up the steep bank of the gorge.

“Why do you say it like that?” Joseph asked. “You, of all people.”

Blake didn’t bother to answer until he and his brother were both out of the gorge and walking toward a work truck parked a few feet away.

“Ranching is not an easy profession,” he reasoned. “Some people think we just buy a herd of cows, then they eat grass and have babies and that’s all there is to it. Easy, right?”

Joseph glanced over at him. “Some people think all you have to do to be a deputy is pin a badge on your chest. But we both know that nothing worthwhile is easy.”

“Does that include being a husband?” Blake asked.

“Sure,” Joseph joked. “I’ll say it’s as hard as hell and you’ll run and tell Tessa.”

The two men climbed into the cab of a white ton truck with the 3R brand displayed on both doors. As Blake settled himself behind the wheel and started the engine, he said, “I wouldn’t repeat such a thing to my sweet sister-in-law. I was just curious. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve never been a husband before.”

Blake put the truck in motion, and as he steered it in the direction of the ranch house, he could feel Joseph’s keen gaze boring into the side of his face.

“You really are curious, aren’t you?” Joseph asked.

“Why not?”

“Why not? You never bother to look at a woman, much less date one. Not after Lenore.”

Scowling, Blake jerked the wheel to avoid a boulder. “Hell, Joe, did you have to bring her up? Besides, it’s not like I’m over-the-hill and washed-up. I’m only thirty-eight. I still have time to hook up with a woman.”

“How’s that going to happen? You rarely step off Three Rivers.”

“You might be surprised, little brother,” Blake said coyly. “I might’ve already met one.”

As the truck bounced over the rough terrain, Blake glanced over to see Joseph gaping at him.

“Floorboard this damn truck,” Joseph told him, his voice taking on a note of excitement. “We need to get back to the ranch and knock a board off the barn!”

Rolling his eyes, Blake said, “Let’s not take the celebrating to that extent. But I did have coffee with a woman a couple of days ago. A mighty pretty one, too.”

Joseph squared around in the seat. “Did you dip into Mom’s peach wine before we headed out here?”

“What kind of question is that? Don’t you think I might know a girl? A pretty one?”

“Well, yes. I just never figured—Who is she?”

Right now she was little more than a nice, sweet memory. One that Blake couldn’t get out of his head. “Do you remember Paulette Anderson? Years ago, she used to do sewing and mending for Mom.”

“Sure. I remember. Nice lady. In spite of being married to that good-for-nothing Avery. I had to arrest him once. Drunk as a skunk. Driving all over the road. It’s a miracle he hadn’t killed himself or someone else. I’m pretty sure he lost his driver’s license after that.”

My brother, Aaron, wouldn’t offer to help. When I came back—to help Dad—I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing.

Katherine’s remarks about her father suddenly traveled through Blake’s thoughts. Without knowing much about her family life, he’d not fully understood what she’d meant. He’d figured her parents’ divorce had caused a rift with her father, but she’d decided to put it all behind her.

Frowning thoughtfully, he said, “So you’re telling me that Avery Anderson was an alcoholic. I didn’t know.”

“I thought everybody around here knew that.” Joseph shook his head. “What do the Andersons have to do with you having coffee with a woman, anyway?”

“She’s their daughter. Katherine. Her name is O’Dell now. Did you know she’d returned to Wickenburg?”

“No. Guess she came back to bury the old man and settle his estate. Which couldn’t have been much.”

Blake inwardly winced at his brother’s remark. He understood Joseph wasn’t being snobbish. He was simply speaking the truth. The Andersons had lived in a very modest house on the outskirts of town. They’d never had much in the way of material things. But until this moment, Blake hadn’t been aware that Katherine’s father had cared more about a bottle of booze than he had his family. How had she found it in her heart to care for him during his failing health? Blake doubted he could ever be that forgiving or compassionate.

Blake pulled his thoughts back to the present. “Katherine lives here now. She’s a widow. With a son.”

Long moments passed in silence and Blake wondered if his brother was trying to come up with a nice way of telling him to steer clear of Katherine O’Dell.

Eventually, Joseph asked, “You say she’s pretty?”

For once, Blake didn’t have any trouble putting a smile on his face. “Very.”

“Then you’d better ask her out.”

“I already have,” Blake said flatly. “She hedged on giving me an answer.”

Joseph looked at him. “You’re not going to let that stop you, are you?”

“I’m not going to let anything stop me.”

* * *

Later that evening in a small fenced yard behind Katherine’s house, she tossed a baseball with a gentle underhanded pitch to her son, then smacked the worn glove on her left hand.

“Okay. Let it rip. I’m ready,” she called to Nick.

Nick groaned with frustration. “Aww, Mom, that’s not the way to throw a pitch. You gotta go like this. And put some steam behind it!”

He went through the exaggerated windup of a major-league pitcher and then threw a hard bull’s-eye that nearly knocked the glove off Katherine’s hand.

Somehow she managed to make the catch, but her fingers stung from the force of the ball. “Nick! I am not about to throw the ball that hard. I might accidently hurt you. It’s underhanded or not at all,” she warned. “Take your pick.”

Nick groaned. “Oh, Mom, I’m not a baby. I can catch a fastball.”

“Maybe you can, but I’m not going to throw you one. You have to play by my rules.”

“Okay,” he mumbled with disappointment. “I’ll follow your rules. Let’s play.”

Katherine tossed the ball back to him while thinking how much better things would be for her son if he had a father. Not just a guy in the background, like Cliff, who’d worked too many hours to ever notice he had a son, much less spend time teaching him about sports. Nick deserved to have a father who would give him special love and attention. But finding a man who’d give that much to a stepchild seemed next to impossible.

By the time dusk began to fall and the backyard darkened with shadows, Nick had grown tired of the simple game of pitch and announced he was hungry.

Katherine pulled off the glove and handed it, along with the stained baseball, to her son. “Put your things away and wash up. I already have something fixed, so we’ll eat in a few minutes.”

“Okay, Mom. And thanks for playing catch with me.”

At ten years old, he was tall for his age, with long lanky limbs and feet that were growing just as quickly as his height. His thick hair was nearly as dark as hers and his eyes close to the same gray. People often remarked that Nick favored his mother, and Katherine had to admit that when she looked at her son, she saw nothing of Cliff O’Dell. And considering the way that things had worked out for her and her late husband, she supposed it was a blessing that Nick didn’t resemble his father.

Slinging her arm affectionately around Nick’s shoulders, she guided him toward the back door of the house. “You’re very welcome.”

“Mom, do you think I might go to baseball camp this summer? Jimmy Bainter’s dad is going to be the instructor. You know, he played in the minor leagues once. Back before he got so old.”

“Old? I’ve seen Jimmy’s dad before. He doesn’t look old.” Katherine opened the door and ushered her son inside a small mudroom.

“Oh, shoot, Mom, that guy is probably forty!”

Trying not to laugh, Katherine nudged her son on toward the kitchen. “Go on and wash up.”

“But what about the baseball camp? Can I go? Jimmy and Shawn have already signed up. And it’s going to be over at the park. Every day for two whole weeks!”

“May you go,” she said, correcting him. “And maybe. I’ll check into it.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Grinning as though he was already certain she’d conceded, he hugged her waist, then rushed from the room.

Katherine washed her hands at a deep double sink, before entering the kitchen to get the evening meal ready. As she walked toward the refrigerator to pull out a casserole dish filled with lasagna, she decided to detour to the cabinet counter to check her phone. Normally, she didn’t get many calls, but she did receive a few texts from coworkers.

Seeing a notification that she’d missed a call, she punched a button to see the caller identity and immediately let out a small gasp.

Blake! Blake Hollister had called her!

Yes, she’d given him her phone number the morning they’d had coffee, but she’d never expected him to use it. In fact, once she’d walked away from him in front of the bank, she’d pretty much decided she’d never hear from the man again.

What was she going to do now? She’d missed his call and he’d not left a voice mail.

The smart thing to do, Katherine, would be to put down the phone and forget the man. So what if he did call you? So what if he did take you out on a date? That’s as far as things would ever get with a man like him. You’d only be wasting your time.

Disgusted with the cynical voice going off in her head, she placed the phone on the far end of the cabinet and went about getting the lasagna heated for their supper.

By the time she and Nick had eaten the meal and finished it off with chocolate ice cream for dessert, she’d decided to forget about Blake’s call. If he’d wanted to talk to her that badly, he would have left a message. Besides, she had plenty of other things to think about. Like vacuuming the living floor and putting a load of towels in the washer.

“Mom, can I watch one of your Tarzan movies?” Nick asked as he helped her carry the dirty dishes to the sink. “I want to see the one with the elephant stampede. You know, the one where the bad guys are trying to get ivory from the sacred elephant graveyard.”

Katherine smiled to herself. She’d always loved the Tarzan movies made back in the 1930s and 1940s, yet the first time Nick had watched one with her, he’d promptly described the whole thing as dorky.

“I thought my Tarzan movies were too cheesy for you,” Katherine said as she began to scrape food scraps into the garbage disposal.

“I guess I got to liking them. The animals are neat and so is Boy.”

Smiling, she glanced at him. “You think it would be fun to live in a tree house?”

“Yeah. But only for a few days. There wouldn’t be any TV.”

Since she made sure to limit her son’s time in front of the TV, he appreciated the chance to enjoy his favorite programs. “Oh, well, that would be awful. You’d have to get a stick and draw pictures in the dirt for entertainment.”

A bewildered look came over her son’s face. “Mom, are you feeling sick or something?”

Katherine chuckled. “No. Just feeling my age. And you have my permission to watch the movie. Just make sure you put the DVD back into its case when you’re finished.”

“Thanks, Mom!”

Nick hurried out of the kitchen and Katherine finished washing and drying the last of the dishes. She was hanging the dishtowel on a rack when her phone rang. The sound caused her to jump as though a firecracker had exploded beneath the table.

Could Blake be calling again? The number illuminated on the face of the phone wasn’t familiar, but the prefix was local.

Bracing herself, Katherine snatched up the phone and accepted the call with a simple hello.

“Katherine, this is Blake. Do you have a moment to talk?”

His low, masculine voice caused goose bumps to erupt along the backs of her arms and suddenly her heart was pounding so hard and fast, she felt dizzy. “Uh, yes, I can talk. How are you, Blake?”

“Fine, thanks. You sound surprised to hear from me.”

Her legs shaking, she walked over to the kitchen table and eased into one of the wooden chairs. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to call.”

After a pause, he said, “I was giving you time to think about our date.”

She gulped and glanced over her shoulder. Thank goodness Nick was occupied with the movie. Having her son within earshot of her conversation would have made it even more difficult.

“Our date?” She repeated the words in the form of a question. “We don’t have a date.”

“We will. As soon as you say yes.”

Katherine looked around her simple kitchen and wondered if she was dreaming. “I’m not sure that would be the right thing to do, Blake,” she said as politely as she could manage.

“Why?” he asked. “You don’t like me?”

She practically spluttered into the phone. Like him? What would he think if he knew she’d spent most of her teenage years mooning after him? Probably laugh himself silly, she thought. “Of course I like you. Very much. It’s just that I’m... Well, since Cliff died, I haven’t exactly put myself back in the dating scene. I’d probably be very boring company.”

Another long pause and then he said, “The dates I’ve had in the past couple of years can be counted on one hand. So you see, I’m just as rusty about this as you are. As for being boring, my family’s nickname for me is Judge.”

Katherine could hardly imagine a man of Blake’s status going without dates. Besides being handsome and wealthy, he was warm and personable and a far cry from boring. He could have any woman he set eyes on. Had he stayed away from the dating scene because his engagement hadn’t worked out? She wondered. If so, he must have been crazy in love with his ex-fiancée. The thought was more than off-putting.

“I have my son to consider,” she hedged. “He’d have to go to a sitter.”

“My mother or sister would be happy to take on that chore.”

She absently rubbed her fingertips across her forehead. “Thank you, but I have a neighbor who watches Nick whenever I have to be out at night.”

“Then I don’t see a problem. What about Friday evening? Say about six? We’ll have a nice dinner in Prescott.”

The mere idea of sitting at a candlelit dinner table with Blake was enough to make her tremble all over. “I’d rather keep it casual...if you don’t mind,” she added, then realized she’d just given in without really meaning to.

“I don’t mind at all. We can make it as casual as you want,” he assured her. “So where do you live? Your father’s place?”

When she’d returned to Wickenburg to care for her father, she’d not been surprised by the dilapidated condition of the home where she and her brother had grown up. The roof had leaked in several places and in most of the rooms the linoleum had worn down to the subflooring. The air-conditioning had gone kaput, and with no window screens, it was impossible to open the house for any kind of relief from the heat. Her father had refused to move anywhere, so she’d been forced to make enough repairs to make the house livable for her and Nick.

Blake had thought she was still living there and yet that hadn’t stopped him from asking her for a date. The whole notion amazed her.

“Uh, no. After Dad died, I sold the property. I’ve moved to the west side of town in a white brick house with green shutters.” She gave him the address. “My little car is red and you’ll see it parked beneath a carport on the right side of the house. It’s easy to find.”

“No problem. I’ll find it.”

A few awkward moments of silence passed and then she asked, “Are you really sure you want to do this, Blake? If you’re having second thoughts, don’t worry about it. I’ll understand.”

“Would you understand? Because I wouldn’t,” he said bluntly. “Listen, Katherine, I’ve asked you out on a date because I want to spend time with you. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

Her spine stiffened to a straight line. There was no point in skirting around the issue, she thought. “Surely you can’t be that blind. You’re a Hollister. You have no business going out with someone like me.”

“Someone like you? Since when is it wrong for a Hollister man to want to spend time with a lovely, intelligent young woman?”

Did he honestly see her in that way? “We hardly travel in the same social circle, Blake.”

“I don’t travel in any social circle. And from what you tell me, you don’t, either.”

He was making sense. Or did she simply want to believe the two of them could meet on common ground.

“I apologize, Blake. I’m insulting both of us, aren’t I?”

“Yes. You are.”

She bit down on her lower lip. “I’m sorry. I really do want to see you again.”

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear. So I’ll see you Friday evening.”

She could hear a smile in his voice and the sound warmed her far more than it should have. “Friday. Yes. See you then.”

He ended the call with a quick goodbye, and with a shaky hand, Katherine placed her phone on the table.

Right or wrong, she was going on a date with Blake Hollister.

Chapter Three

Friday afternoon Blake called Katherine to confirm their date, and before their brief conversation ended, she asked if he’d mind dropping off Nick at the sitter’s on their way out of town. Blake had readily agreed and had even felt a bit flattered that she wanted him to meet her son.

But now as Blake walked to the front door of Katherine’s brick house, he wondered how Nick was going to react to his mother going on an outing with a strange man. Blake loved children, but that didn’t mean Katherine’s son would like him. It would make for an awkward start with Katherine if the boy took an instant dislike to him.

Trying not to dwell on that possibility, Blake punched the doorbell and after a moment he could hear footsteps racing through the house. When the door partially opened, he found himself staring at a tall, thin boy with dark hair and clear gray eyes. There was no doubt he was Katherine’s child. Her features were stamped all over his face.

“Hello,” he said as he warily eyed Blake. “Are you Mr. Hollister?”

“Hello,” Blake said, returning the greeting. “And I am Mr. Hollister.”

Continuing to study Blake with open curiosity, he opened the door wide and thrust out his hand.

“I’m Nick,” he said, introducing himself. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

Blake gave the boy’s hand a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Nick. And it’s fine with me if you call me Blake.”

“Mom says I have to be respectful of my elders. But you don’t look all that old to me,” he said. “You want to come in, Blake?”

Blake smiled to himself. At least the boy wasn’t sulking. “That would be nice.”

Nick stepped to one side and Blake entered a short foyer.

“Mom is still getting dressed,” Nick announced as he closed the front door behind them. “She’s always slow.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind waiting.”

The boy motioned for Blake to follow him out of the foyer. “Come into the living room. I’ll go tell Mom you’re here.”

With Nick leading the way, Blake entered a cozy room furnished with a dark red couch and matching stuffed armchair. A glass coffee table was covered with books and DVDs, while a television spanned a far corner of the room. Beyond a picture window framed with cream-colored drapes, a view of the desert almost made him forget the house was situated on the edge of a residential area.

“You can sit anywhere you want,” Nick instructed before he disappeared through an open doorway.

After taking a seat in the armchair, Blake settled back and allowed his gaze to wander around the room. Almost immediately his attention was caught by several framed photos resting on a wall table off to his left. With only a span of a few feet between him and the photos, Blake could see the majority of the images were of Nick captured at different stages of his young life. There was also an enlarged snapshot of Paulette Anderson with another woman, most likely her sister. He also recognized one small photo of Katherine’s brother, Aaron. The fact that there were no images of her late father or husband stood out like a weed in a rose garden.

Considering what Joseph had told him about Avery Anderson, Blake could understand why she might not want to be reminded of her father. But what about her husband? Was losing him still so painful she didn’t want to look at his image?

The sound of footsteps had him glancing around to see Nick entering the room.

“Mom says she’ll be ready in five minutes,” he announced. “But if I was you, I’d be ready to wait another ten. She’s just now doing something to her hair.”

The boy walked over to the couch and plopped onto the end cushion. Blake noticed he was wearing a black T-shirt with his school’s name printed across the front, along with blue jeans and high-top basketball shoes made of black canvas. In a few short years, he was going to be a very good-looking teenager, Blake decided. No doubt Katherine would have her hands full trying to keep him on the right path. Unless she married in the near future and then Nick would have a stepfather to help guide him into manhood.

Shoving away that uncomfortable thought, he asked, “What grade are you in, Nick? The fifth?”

He nodded. “I’m ten. I’ll be eleven in three months, though.”

“Hmm. I liked being eleven,” Blake commented. “It’s a fun age.”

“I wouldn’t know about that. I’m not eleven yet.”

Before he could stop it, Blake was laughing and the sound must have eased something in Nick, because he suddenly laughed along with him.

“Are you really a cowboy? Mom says you run a big ranch that has lots of cows and horses.”

“That’s right. It’s called Three Rivers Ranch.”

His interest piqued, Nick squared around on the cushion so that he was directly facing Blake. “I guess you know how to ride a horse and all that kind of stuff. Can you rope a bull?”

“I can. But it’s not something I do very often. It’s pretty dangerous. Especially when they have long horns.”

Nick thought about that for a moment. “Yeah, guess it would be. Those long horns are pretty scary. When Gold Rush Days was going on, Mom took me to the rodeo. It was exciting. I liked the bucking horses best.”

“Then you’d like my brother Holt. He rides bucking horses practically every day.”

Nick was clearly impressed. “Really? Wow, he must be a tough guy.”

“As tough as they come,” Blake agreed.

“You have brothers and sisters?” he asked.

“Three brothers and two sisters.”

“Gosh, that must be great. I don’t have a brother. Or a sister. I wish I had some. But I don’t think I ever will.”

Blake had expected Katherine’s boy to utter a few stilted words, then disappear into another part of the house. The fact that Nick seemed to want to talk, especially about such personal things, touched a soft spot in him.

Doing his best to sound casual, Blake asked, “Why do you think that?”

Exasperation twisted Nick’s young features. “Because Mom don’t like men much. She don’t even like to talk about my dad.”

Blake wasn’t sure what Nick meant by that statement and he was hardly going to pump the boy about Katherine’s private life.

“Well, she must like some men,” Blake reasoned. “She agreed to go on a date with me.”

Nick scooted up on the edge of his seat and leaned closer to Blake. “Yeah. And that’s got me stumped. I’ve been thinking she’s gotten sick or something. When Mom walks in here, you take a real close look and see if anything looks funny to you.”

Struggling to keep a straight face, Blake said, “Don’t worry. I’ll study her close.”

Nick started to make some sort of reply when his mother suddenly appeared in the open doorway to the living room.

As Blake slowly rose to his feet, he realized his promise to Nick was going to be mighty easy to keep. Dressed casually in a red-and-white-flowered sundress with skinny straps and her long hair pinned behind one ear, she looked like an exotic flower in the middle of a jungle.

“Good evening, Blake. Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“No problem,” he assured her. “Nick and I have been using the time to get acquainted.”

Her skeptical gaze traveled back and forth between him and her son. “Really? Nick isn’t much of a talker around strangers.”

“We’re not strangers now, though, are we, Nick?” Blake looked over at the boy and winked.

Grinning, Nick immediately jumped to his feet. “Gosh, no!” He turned his attention to his mother. “Blake’s been telling me about his ranch. And he has lots of brothers and sisters. Did you know that, Mom? And one of his brothers rides bucking broncos! Isn’t that something?”

Katherine’s brows inched upward as she darted a look of surprise toward Blake. “It’s something, all right,” she told him, then gestured over her shoulder. “Go get your backpack. And be sure you have your toothbrush and pajamas.”

After Nick disappeared from the room, Blake said, “I hope you’re not making Nick stay overnight at the sitter’s on my account. We can be back early if you need to pick him up before bedtime.”

Katherine shook her head. “Don’t worry. It’s no problem. Nick is staying with his best friend, Shawn. His dad, Lash, loves for Nick to stay overnight. And Shawn stays with us quite often. Lash is a single parent like me, so it helps both of us to switch off with the babysitting duties. The Ralstons live just down the street, so it’s not out of the way.”

A single dad with a son the age of Nick? Blake wondered if he should be jealous of Katherine’s neighbor, then promptly scolded himself for being such an idiot. Just because she’d agreed to have one date with him, didn’t mean he had exclusive tabs on the woman. She had the right to go out with whomever she pleased.

Shoving away that disturbing thought, Blake said, “It’s good you have someone so trustworthy to watch Nick. And by the way, your son is quite a boy. You must be incredibly proud of him.”

A faint smile touched her face. “He’s everything to me. Without him...well, these past years would’ve been even harder to get through.”

Blake expected her to make a comment about Nick taking after his father in certain ways, or how she hoped he’d grow up to be like the man she’d married, but she didn’t. And suddenly Blake was wondering if Nick had been right about his mother not wanting to talk about her late husband.

Before Blake could think of a suitable reply to her remark, Nick bounced into the room with a backpack hooked around both shoulders.

“I got everything, Mom. And don’t worry. Lash will make sure we brush our teeth. He doesn’t let us get by with anything.”

Chuckling, Katherine picked up a clutch bag from a nearby end table. “That’s why he’s the best babysitter you’ve ever had.”

Blake picked up his cowboy hat from where he’d left it by the armchair and levered it onto his head. “Are we ready to go?” he asked.

“Ready,” Katherine answered, then with a gentle scruff to the top of Nick’s head, she urged her son toward the door.

Blake followed them onto the front porch, and while she dealt with locking the door, he wondered what might have happened if he’d dated Katherine twelve years ago before she’d left Wickenburg. Perhaps she and Nick would be living on Three Rivers now as his family. But at eighteen, she might’ve been too immature for a serious relationship between them. Especially one that would last. Either way, he couldn’t change the past, he realized. But starting tonight, he was definitely going to try to change the course of his future.

* * *

“Since you said you wanted to keep things casual, I didn’t make dinner reservations,” Blake said as he braked for a stop sign. “Have you thought about where you’d like to eat? Or what you’d like to do?”

Katherine glanced over at him. For Blake, dressing casually meant a pale blue Western shirt that had most likely cost more than her monthly grocery bill, dark blue jeans and a pair of brown, square-toed alligator boots. With his black cowboy hat lying on the console between them, she had a full view of the dark tousled waves of hair edging over the tops of his ears and onto the collar of his shirt. He looked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and, once he got it, wouldn’t hesitate to fight to keep it. To say the man was attractive would be like calling a hurricane a gentle breeze.

She clasped her hands together on her lap as though she needed to prevent herself from reaching across the seat and touching him. “This is probably going to sound silly to you, but I’d like to take a drive through the mountains toward Prescott and eat at some little spot on the side of the road. Is that okay with you?”

He looked over at her and she noticed one corner of his lips was curved faintly upward. The expression was hardly a smile, she decided, yet it was as sexy as heck.

He said, “That sounds absolutely okay with me.”

Relieved, she felt compelled to explain her choice. “I’m not much for fancy, Blake. That’s probably hard for a man like you to understand.”

His grunt was a mocking sound. “A man like me? I’m hardly black-tie-and-tails, Katherine.”

A blush stung her cheeks. “No. But, well, you know what I’m getting at. I wasn’t raised like you.”

With his gaze fixed firmly on the highway, he said, “Look, Katherine, I thought we’d hashed out all of that. Sure, I remember your parents’ little house, where you were raised as a kid. Nobody had to tell me that your family didn’t own much. But that has nothing to do with you as a person. Besides, you’ve grown above all of that. Seems to me, you’ve been doing very well for yourself and your son.”

She smoothed a hand over the hem of her dress. “Yes, things are much better now. Financially speaking, that is. But with Dad gone, my mother too bitter to really enjoy life and my brother keeping his distance, I can’t help but wish things had been different. For them and for me and Nick.”

“I’m sure you wish things had been different for your late husband, too.”

A chill settled over her. Clearly, he’d noticed she’d left Nick’s father off her list. “Talking about Cliff isn’t something I want to do tonight,” she said stiffly.

“Hmm. Nick says you never want to talk about his father.”

She stared at his profile. “Nick told you that?”

He glanced in her direction. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. But I’m curious as to why you want to avoid the subject of your late husband. Is it because you loved him so much that remembering hurts?”

Katherine groaned. This was supposed to be a date, not a question-and-answer session, she thought crossly. “It’s not that. And I’m not trying to keep Nick from learning about his father. Well, maybe I am in some ways,” she glumly admitted. “You see, I’d rather Nick only know about the good parts of his father. It would only hurt my son to learn how his father changed from a loving husband into a man driven by an obsessive need for money.”

She paused and waited for him to make some sort of reply. When he remained silent, it was obvious he was expecting her to explain further.

“I had hoped that having a child would help,” she went on in a strained voice, “but my getting pregnant actually made things worse. By the time Nick was born, Cliff hardly noticed he had a child. It’s no wonder Nick says he can’t remember his father. Cliff never spent enough time with his son to make any memories. He was too busy making money.”

Blake steered the truck onto Highway 93, and as they headed north, Katherine couldn’t help but wonder what he must be thinking about her and her marriage. No doubt he was probably telling himself this was the first and last date he’d have with Katherine O’Dell.

She was about to apologize for sounding so sharp, when he suddenly spoke.

“If my math is correct, Nick must have only been about three when his father died. That’s too young for a child to remember much of anything.”

Sighing, she looked at him. “Maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t know anymore. I expect when Nick gets a little older, he’s going to start asking more questions about his father. I dread that time, because I can’t lie to him. It wouldn’t be right.”

“No. Lying wouldn’t be good. But maybe by the time Nick does start asking those questions, he’ll already have another father,” Blake suggested. “And the truth won’t hurt so much.”

Katherine stared at her clasped hands. “I honestly doubt that’s going to happen. I can’t see myself marrying again.”

Another stretch of silence passed and then he said, “Nick wants brothers and sisters.”

Her gaze slid over his chiseled features. “I can’t believe he was telling you that sort of thing. He doesn’t talk about private matters to anyone but me—and sometimes his buddy Shawn.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I guess Nick decided I was someone he could confide in. So what are you going to do about it?”

She frowned at him. “Do about what?”

“About giving him some siblings.”

His nerve astounded her. She’d been acquainted with the Hollister family for as long as she could remember. And yes, throughout her teenage years, she’d had a crush on Blake. But she didn’t know him in a personal way. Not even well enough to call herself a close friend. So what made him think he could talk to her about such things?

“Do you really think that’s any of your business?”

His grin was a bit suggestive and even more endearing.

He said, “Probably not. But I hope to make it my business before the evening is over.”

If Katherine had any sense at all, she’d tell him to turn the truck around and take her home. She didn’t need some man digging into the deepest part of her. She didn’t want him prying at the locked-away spot where she harbored her hopes and dreams. And she especially didn’t need a man like Blake, who’d been born into a loving family and a home where he’d never lacked for anything, telling her what she or her son needed in their lives. And yet, she didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want this evening with Blake to end. Even though he was making her think about uncomfortable things, he was also making her feel more alive than she’d felt in years.

“I suppose you have a right to hope,” she murmured.

He didn’t make any sort of reply and his silence made the cab of the truck feel even more crowded with his presence. In spite of the air-conditioner vents blowing in her direction, she could practically feel the heat emanating from his body and hear the soft in and out of his breathing.

Swallowing hard, she purposely stared out the passenger window and tried to concentrate on the open landscape. With each passing mile, the terrain appeared to be growing a bit greener. Here and there, huge rock formations towered into the sky, while on the lower slopes of the gentle hills, sage bloomed purple.

After a few moments, the rugged beauty of the land began to soothe her jumpy nerves and before long she was gasping with delight. “Look, Blake, at the water hole! There’s a big herd of antelope. Aww—and all those babies! They’re beautiful!”

He glanced at the wildlife. “Looks like this area has been blessed with a bit of rain. Grass has greened the slopes and given the antelope and deer plenty to eat.”

She stared at the herd of animals until they were completely out of view, then looked over at him. “I have to admit that living in San Diego was nice. But I missed Arizona,” she said wistfully. “The desert and the saguaros. The rock bluffs and pine-covered mountains. And all the deer and antelope.”

“You forgot to add the blistering heat and months without rain. Along with the rattlesnakes, horned lizards and javelina,” he added jokingly.

She smiled. “Strange, isn’t it? That a person can get attached to such a rugged place.”

“Hmm. It’s all I’ve ever known. So it doesn’t seem strange to me. I’d feel stifled if I had to live in a city.” He cast a curious glance in her direction. “Is that one of the reasons you decided to stay in Wickenburg after your father died? Because you missed this area?”

She took a moment to think about his question. “I’ll be honest, Blake, twelve years ago when I left with Mom and my brother, I never expected to see the place again. I thought I’d never want to return to Arizona. You see, when we left Wickenburg, I had high hopes that my life would change. I desperately wanted to better myself. But my life made turns I never expected. And along the way I think I forgot that better doesn’t always equal happiness.”

“No. Not always,” he quietly agreed.

Emotions filled her throat and she tried to clear away the lump before she spoke. “This is probably going to sound terrible to you, but I dreaded coming back to Wickenburg. I dreaded seeing the place and seeing Dad. There were plenty of things I didn’t want to be reminded of. But when I walked into our old house and my father reached for my hand... I can’t explain it, but for the first time in years I felt truly at home.”

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