“Maybe you ought to go over there and ask her if she’s Caitlin Kramer.”

But Alex knew it wasn’t a good idea. The woman in the wheelchair at the other table seemed uncomfortable in her surroundings…any fool could see that.

“Nah.” Hallie kept her full attention to her meal, munching fries, wolfing down her huge cheeseburger.

Where did she put it all?

“You want to hit a movie after this?”

The girl shook her head.

Alex hated that his little girl’s innocence had been tainted by a senseless act of violence.

“Gotta pee.” Hallie jumped up and headed for the bathroom.

Inside, she closed herself into one of the two stalls. She waited impatiently for the woman in the next one to hurry up. A few moments later she heard water running as the lady washed her hands for what seemed an eternity.

Come on, come on! Hallie stood quietly, listening for the sound of the door. At last the dryer shut off, the door snicked open, then shut with a soft click.

Hallie closed her eyes and focused. She could do this. It was easy, once you learned how. She raised her fingers to her mouth and felt her stomach begin to heave in a familiar wave of motion. Then she leaned over the toilet, purging herself of everything she’d just eaten.

But not just the food.

Of everything bad that lay like a thick, black poison inside her.

Dear Reader,

Do you ever stop and think about how the course of our lives can change in an instant? I often think about that and wonder “What if?” What if a person made a different choice at one single moment along his or her life’s journey? It fascinates me that one small action can drastically alter everything.

But sometimes the path we take is not by choice. Sometimes it’s by accident, or a seemingly cruel twist of fate. Yet I’ve found that good can come from the proverbial dark cloud. When Caitlin Kramer suffers a severe accident, she’s forced to take a long, hard look at her goals and dreams. At exactly what sort of person she is.

Alex Hunter has traveled a similar path. His main concern is protecting his daughter, and he’ll go to any length to do it, including moving to the small Colorado mountain town of Deer Creek. Little does he know that fate has plans for him. And for Caitlin.

I hope you’ll enjoy the twists and turns of Alex and Caitlin’s journey to true love. Don’t you just love a happy ending?

I enjoy hearing from my readers. You can e-mail me at BrendaMott@hotmail.com (please reference the book title on the subject line). Or stop by my author’s page at the Smoky Mountain Romance Writers Web site at smrw.org or SuperAuthors.com. Happy reading!

Brenda Mott

To Protect His Own
Brenda Mott

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to the wonderful women

who made my lifelong dream come true:

my editors, past and present—Paula Eykelhof,

Beverley Sotolov, Kathleen Scheibling, Victoria Curran,

Laura Shin—and my agent, Michelle Grajkowski

of Three Seas Literary Agency.

My thanks go deeper than words can say.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

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

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

“BE CAREFUL DRIVING HOME, Caitlin. It’s starting to snow.” Shauna pulled her head back inside, then partially closed the front door behind the other woman.

“I will. Don’t forget—the indoor arena, six sharp.” Caitlin pointed an accusing finger at her longtime friend. “No hitting the snooze button. We need to get in one last practice session before I head back to school.”

“I’ll be there,” Shauna promised with a laugh.

Caitlin waved and hurried toward her Pacific-blue Jaguar, parked near the barn a short distance from Shauna Meyers’s front yard. As she headed down the dirt-and-gravel road, she flipped the heater on full blast. February in Colorado could be brutal, and it looked like tonight would be no exception. She regretted that she hadn’t worn a coat this afternoon when she’d left for Shauna’s house. She should’ve known the fickle mountain sunshine and mid-fifties temperature made no promises. But it didn’t matter. The Jaguar X had heated seats, and her long-sleeved sweater was warm enough.

She slid a CD into the stereo, then turned her wipers on as the overture to the Marriage of Figaro filled the car. The snowflakes were getting bolder, bigger, and she flicked her headlights to low beam. By the time she reached the two-lane highway, the snow was coming down in earnest. She’d hoped to get home before the roads got bad, but the ranch was a good seven miles from the Meyers’s place, and the snow was starting to stick to the pavement. Suddenly her car shimmied. She looked in her mirrors but couldn’t see anything. Yet the car handled in a way that told her something was wrong, so Caitlin pulled over to the shoulder.

Nuts! A flat tire. Left rear side. If only she’d taken Dillon up on his offer to teach her basic vehicle maintenance, including how to change a tire. At the time, his big-brother concerns seemed unnecessary. After all, she had her auto club membership. But as she stood in the falling snow, the thought of waiting for the auto club to send someone from town didn’t seem like such a good idea after all. At the pace people moved in Deer Creek, it might take a while, and she didn’t relish the thought of sitting in her car at the side of the dark mountain highway.

Besides, she realized with a groan, she’d left her cell phone at home. Again. Should she walk back to town and find a pay phone, or stay here in the hope a Good Samaritan came along? The thought was no sooner in her head when a Chevy Blazer eased around a bend in the road from the same way she’d come, and slowed to a crawl. Relieved, Caitlin waved frantically at the driver to stop. But as the Blazer pulled in behind her, the vulnerability of her situation made Caitlin suddenly wary. She relaxed, though, when she saw the lone occupant was a woman who looked not much older than her own twenty-three years.

Before she could make a move toward the vehicle, another SUV rounded the curve in the Blazer’s wake, swerving wildly. It crossed over the highway’s dotted yellow line, then veered back toward the shoulder of the road. Toward the Chevy Blazer.

Caitlin froze in the headlights.

The SUV struck the Chevy with such force, a deafening screech rent the air, and Caitlin tried to scramble out of the way. Tried to flee from the on-coming vehicles. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the Blazer skidded sideways and plunged into the ravine below. The dark-colored SUV fish-tailed as the driver attempted to correct his mistake in judgment, and struck Caitlin’s car.

Her sluggish mind reasoned that even diving into the ravine would be better than being run down. But the Jag clipped her before she could reach safety, flinging her not into the ravine, but in the opposite direction. Onto the highway. She heard squealing brakes and felt intense pain that seemed to wrack her entire body.

Then nothing.

CHAPTER ONE

CAITLIN KRAMER found it ironic that her dreams would be shattered on her birthday. She faced her physical therapist, finally realizing what she hadn’t wanted to admit in the six months since the accident. That she would be lucky to even ride a pleasure horse again. She could definitely kiss the Olympics goodbye.

It wasn’t fair to take her frustration out on Terri, but Caitlin couldn’t hide her bitterness. “Why aren’t I getting better? At this rate, I’ll never have the balance to ride a show jumper, will I?” She’d hoped the doctors were wrong, and she would be the exception to the rule and heal quickly and completely, returning to her normal self. But the regimen of physical therapy she’d undergone today proved she was the one who’d been wrong.

Caitlin tried to swallow the hot, burning sensation at the back of her throat. Nine days in a coma had left her as helpless as a newborn kitten. She’d spent the first couple of months after the wreck relearning everything. How to walk, sit and eat. How to dress herself. And now this. The painful therapy, which had begun to pay off as she forced her useless muscles to work the way they once had, only seemed to take her so far. But she’d cried enough. She was sick of it. Anger felt like a much better tool.

“You are getting better,” Terri said. “I told you this isn’t going to happen overnight.” The therapist rested one hand on the vestibulator—a piece of equipment that reminded Caitlin of an adult-size baby swing. “Do you want me to stop?”

The vestibulator was used to test balance and reflex. A netlike, mesh contraption hung suspended from the top of the metal frame, and Caitlin sat in it, feeling stupid and helpless, like a toddler being pushed by her mother. She couldn’t even balance enough to swing independently.

“No. I’m going to do this or die trying.”

Terri grinned. “That’s the attitude. Perseverance and patience are key to your recovery.” She manipulated the machine. “Maybe when you’re done here, we’ll take you over to my place and you can have a go-round on Jake’s bucking barrel.”

“Ha-ha,” Caitlin said, ashamed of her crabbiness. She seemed to have little or no control over her emotions these days. “Knowing your dear hubby’s psychotic obsession with pain, I’m sure he’d love that.”

Terri’s chuckle was low, amused. “Psychotic obsession, huh?”

“He’s a bull rider, isn’t he? He’s got to be nuts.”

“Says the show jumper who sails over seven-foot walls on a twelve-hundred-pound horse.”

Caitlin gave her a mock scowl. “I get your point.” She held her arms out from her sides. “Let’s try this again.”

An hour later she sank, exhausted, into her wheelchair. Damn, but it would be good to be rid of the thing. She hated that she still had to use the chair part-time. And feared, deep down, she would never walk completely on her own.

“How’d it go?” Her mother’s cheerful voice made Caitlin’s spirits sink lower as she watched her step into the room. To have everyone around her constantly acting upbeat and positive got old, even though she knew they meant well. There were days when she wished they’d let her throw herself on the floor and cry like a baby. Days when she wished they’d cry with her.

She looked up into her mother’s coffee-brown eyes. “Same torture, different day,” she said dryly. “Where’s Gran?”

Evelyn leaned over the chair and kissed Caitlin’s cheek. “Waiting. She’s taking us out to lunch for your birthday. To Bella Luna.”

“I don’t want to go.” She hated going out in public, putting up with curious glances and rude stares. The whispered comments and speculation ate away at what little self-confidence she had left. “Can’t we eat at home?”

“No.” Evelyn took hold of the wheelchair, and with a goodbye to Terri, began to push Caitlin from the room. “You’ve hibernated enough. It’s time to get out. Get some air.”

“I can get air at the ranch.” Foxwood Farms had become her haven away from people. Once seen as a local celebrity, now she was only someone to be pitied. She didn’t want pity or sympathy. She wanted her life back the way it was before some jerk of a drunk driver had ruined it.

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, right. Then the whole town can see how I can barely feed myself, like some helpless infant.” Her fine motor skills had not yet returned to the left side of her body. And she was left-handed.

“So eat finger food,” Gran said, rising from a chair in the waiting room as Evelyn wheeled Caitlin out. “We’ll skip Bella Luna and go to Pearl’s Diner instead.” Proud and regal like her daughter-in-law, Noreen Kramer was also every bit as stubborn. And every bit as beautiful. Her silver hair curled just above the collar of her blouse. Tall and slender, her peacock-blue eyes sparkled above prominent cheekbones, sculpted not by some clever plastic surgeon, but by Mother Nature. At sixty-five, Gran could’ve easily passed for fifty.

None of the Kramer women looked their age, including her. Or at least she hadn’t before the accident. Now when Caitlin looked in the mirror, the face staring back at her seemed older. And she felt about a hundred.

She rolled her eyes at Gran. “I don’t do finger food.”

“Well, you do today. Come on.” Noreen took over, pushing the wheelchair. “Chicken fingers and French fries sound like a winner to me.”

“Ugh.” Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “No way am I putting that junk in my body.”

Noreen smothered a grin, eyes flashing as she looked at Evelyn. “Listen to her. She actually thinks she’s going to win this argument.”

ALEX HUNTER slowed his Ford Ranger as he exited the highway. “Are you hungry, Hallie?”

In the passenger seat, his twelve-year-old daughter slumped against the truck’s window, staring at nothing in particular. Her long, sandy brown hair tumbled down her back in a waist-length ponytail. At least she’d combed it today. Some days she didn’t bother.

Hallie lifted a shoulder. “I guess.”

“Pearl’s Diner okay? I hear they’ve got great burgers.” He spotted the home-style restaurant up ahead.

She nodded, but her expression said she couldn’t care less if they ate hamburgers or rocks.

Alex held back a sigh. Their move from the Denver area a few weeks ago had been tough, but there was no way he was going to stay in the city anymore. Where random violence could change people’s lives in the blink of an eye.

“Well, I’m for a double cheeseburger and a chocolate shake.” He swung into a parking space behind a sleek black Mercedes and let out a low whistle. “Wow, look at that. Guess not everyone in this town drives a pickup, huh?” He gave her a wink, tipping his new black Stetson, hoping to at least coax a smile from his daughter.

But Hallie remained impassive as she opened the door and slid out. Alex placed his hand on her shoulder as they walked toward the diner’s entrance just as two teenage boys came out, laughing and shoving each other. Alex’s heart raced as he took in the boys’ baggy clothes, earrings and tattoos. He readied himself for the slightest sign of a threat.

One of the boys bumped into him and turned to flash, not a gun, but a smile. “Excuse me.” Then they were gone, and Alex let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.

Sweat beaded his upper lip and his pulse pounded at his temples. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. But they were already here, inside the restaurant. His hand still on Hallie’s shoulder, Alex made his way toward an empty booth. About to sit, he noticed Hallie staring at something. No, not something…someone. He followed her gaze to a corner table where three women sat—one of them in a wheelchair—and his breath hitched as he stared into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes set in a face that could’ve easily graced the cover of any fashion magazine.

Young, probably barely in her twenties, her hair fell, thick and dark, just past her shoulders. He caught her scowling at him and quickly averted his eyes. But not Hallie. She was still flat-out staring at the woman.

Alex started to reprimand her, but then how could he scold his daughter for doing something he’d been equally guilty of? Embarrassed, he leaned to whisper in Hallie’s ear.

“It’s not polite to stare.” He slid into the booth.

She glanced at him, and for a moment he was afraid she’d retreat even deeper into her shell. The one she wore like a wary turtle, protecting itself from danger. “She looks like Caitlin Kramer,” Hallie said, sitting opposite him. “You know…Colorado’s Olympic hopeful.”

Alex stared at his little girl. This was the longest string of words she’d uttered in a long time. Thanking God and the hoards of horse magazines he’d subscribed to for her—even if she hadn’t read them lately—Alex smiled. “Does she?”

Hallie nodded. Then she slumped back against the seat as the waitress came to bring them ice water and menus. But she kept her eyes on the woman in the corner.

Alex stole another glance toward the table. The young dark-haired woman didn’t seem to be hungry, picking at her lunch. The other two looked so much like her, he guessed they must be relatives. Perhaps her older sister and her mother. Or an aunt?

“Hallie, don’t stare,” Alex quietly repeated, as much to reprimand himself as anything else.

“It is Caitlin Kramer. What happened to her?”

Keeping his voice low, Alex pretended grave interest in his water glass. “Let’s don’t speculate,” he said. “It’s rude, and besides, that’s probably not her, honey.” He vaguely remembered Hallie rambling on and on about a grand prix jumping horse and the woman who rode him. But he also recalled she’d been enthralled with the professional barrel racers she read about in her horse magazines, and the high-dollar horses they rode. For months all Hallie had talked about was getting a horse and competing at the Denver National Western Stock Show. Not a practical wish when they lived in the city.

But he planned to give his daughter everything she wanted now that they lived in Deer Creek. If he could have a wish of his own granted, he’d ask for only one thing. To turn the clock back four months and get Hallie out of town before she’d witnessed the drive-by shooting that had taken her cousin Melissa’s young life.

The waitress brought their orders, and Alex poured ketchup onto his plate, then dunked a fry in it. Hallie continued to steal glances at the nearby table.

“Maybe you ought to go over there and ask her if she’s Caitlin Kramer,” Alex said. But even as the suggestion left his lips, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. The woman in the wheelchair seemed uncomfortable in her surroundings…any fool could see that.

“Nah.” Hallie wrinkled her nose and turned her full attention to her meal, munching fries, wolfing down her huge cheeseburger.

Where did she put it all?

“You want to hit a movie after this? I saw a theatre in town.”

She shook her head.

Alex’s meal turned sour in his stomach. Hallie was all he had. His wife had walked out on them for another man when his daughter was only three. He’d been the only constant in her life since Julie left. He hated that his little girl’s innocence had been tainted by a senseless act of violence. Hated even more that he’d once designed video games that portrayed similar acts. Shoot-’em-up blood and gore. Kill more bad guys, make more points. The more realistic the graphics, the more his games were in demand, which allowed him to provide well for Hallie.

But one bullet had changed his outlook on the business.

He finished his lunch and placed his crumpled napkin on his plate. “Ready to go, Hal?”

“Gotta pee.” She headed for the bathroom.

Alex took out his wallet and laid a five-dollar tip near his plate, then tucked a twenty into his hand along with their order ticket. He stood and slipped the wallet back into his jeans, using the opportunity to glance at the corner table. The woman in the wheelchair didn’t look at him, but the other two did.

“Ladies.” He flashed them a smile and tipped his hat, enjoying his new cowboy gear and the Western tradition it stood for. He’d wanted to fit in with the farmers and ranchers of Deer Creek by dressing the way he had when he was a boy growing up in the mountains.

The silver-haired woman gave him a polite nod, and the other dark-haired lady briefly returned his smile. Confound it. He wanted the young woman to look at him again. Wanted to see those gorgeous sapphire-blue eyes up close.

But she only toyed with the straw in her cup, looking down. Ignoring him.

With a sigh, Alex made his way toward the register near the restrooms to pay for lunch and wait for Hallie.

IN THE LADIES’ ROOM, Hallie closed herself into one of two stalls. She waited impatiently for the woman in the next one to hurry up and flush. A few moments later, the sound of water running in the sink reached her ears as the lady washed her hands for what seemed an eternity.

Come on, come on! Hallie stood quietly in the bathroom stall. Listening for the sound of the door. At last the dryer shut off, the door snicked open, then shut with a soft click.

Hallie closed her eyes and focused. She could do this. It was easy, once you learned how. Her friends in Aurora had shown her the way.

She raised her fingers to her mouth and felt her stomach begin to heave in a familiar wave of motion. Then she leaned over the toilet, purging herself of everything she’d just eaten.

But not just the food.

Of everything bad that lay like a thick, black poison inside of her.

CHAPTER TWO

“I DON’T THINK you’re ready for this, Caitlin.” Evelyn sounded worried, reluctant to let her go. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

Caitlin returned her mother’s firm stare. “I’m walking on my own now.” Pretty well. “I’m sick of being smothered. I need my space.”

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone. What if you fall?”

“I’ll get back up.” Caitlin folded her arms. “Mom, I’m twenty-three years old. When are you going to stop treating me like a child?” Until the accident, she hadn’t realized just how much she’d leaned on her parents, her grandmother and brother. A close family, albeit a rather nontraditional one, they’d never lived far from one another, and Caitlin had spent her entire life at the family’s horse ranch—Foxwood Farms.

“You’re the one who’s acting like a child,” Evelyn said, hands on her slender hips.

“Now, girls, let’s not argue.” Benton Kramer placed his hands gently on his daughter’s shoulders. “Honey, your mother is simply worried about you, and so am I.” Six foot two with a sturdy build and silver-streaked black hair, he had the same blue eyes as she did; the same blue eyes as Gran. The laugh lines around them that Caitlin loved so much now crinkled with concern. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, peach?”

“Yes, Dad, I’m sure.” Caitlin ran her hands up and down his arms affectionately, sickeningly aware of the fact that it took a conscious effort to move her left one. “It’s been almost seven months since the accident. And it’s not like I’ll be far away.” The small farmhouse she’d rented was three miles from the Kramers’ five-hundred-and-fifty acres. And the house on the neighboring property, which belonged to the Bagley family—longtime residents of Deer Creek—had sat empty, for sale for some time now, so Caitlin would have plenty of peace and quiet. Plenty of seclusion. Exactly what she wanted.

“Okay, then.” Benton lifted his hands in surrender. “Dillon and I will move your stuff in this weekend.” He ignored Evelyn’s continued protests.

Caitlin turned her back on her mother and, with the aid of her cane, headed slowly toward the sweeping staircase and her room.

By Friday afternoon, her things were gathered and she was ready to go.

“Is this it, Cate?” Dillon hefted a box of kitchen goods into his arms. At twenty-six, with coal-black hair and the Kramer blue eyes, he attracted his share of women out on the show circuit. He kept extremely busy, riding, training, showing—their father’s right hand in the running of Foxwood Farms. But he’d always made plenty of time for his little sister.

“That should do it.” Caitlin felt an exuberance she hadn’t known lately as they headed outside. The mid-September heat engulfed her as she headed for her new pickup truck. New to her, anyway.

Her father had offered to buy her a fully loaded, top-of-the-line, dually pickup straight off the showroom floor, but spending that much money on a pickup was foolish. She’d seen the candy-apple-red, ’79 Chevy parked at the local lot, owned by a reputable dealer. Something about the way the truck had obviously been lovingly cared for appealed to her.

Caitlin tossed her purse into the passenger seat. She couldn’t drive yet. Her ability to perceive distances correctly had been compromised by her head injury. As had her ability to judge the weight of an object. Her brain was left with no way to know how hard to flex her muscles. Without proper balance coordination, her brain initially couldn’t even communicate the simple act of moving a finger, and it had taken intense concentration and physical therapy to begin to overcome these obstacles.

The Chevy had an automatic transmission. No clutch for her weakened left side. She hoped to be driving within the next month, at least around the ranch.

“You be careful,” Evelyn said, giving her daughter a warm peck on the cheek.

Gran hovered over her, fussing with Caitlin’s hair, touching her as though she might crumble into dust and blow away on the wind. “Keep that cell phone clipped to your belt, you hear?” She pointed a stern finger. “I know how you’re always misplacing it.”

“I hear you, Gran.” Caitlin smiled and shook her head. “I’ll be fine, really. Shauna will be checking in on me, too.” Her best friend since fifth grade, Shauna had stuck faithfully by her side ever since the accident, even when she’d tried to push her away. Caitlin kissed her mother and grandmother on the cheek. “I love you both, even if you are a couple of worrywarts.”

Evelyn graced her with a good-natured frown. “That’s fine. You go on and think that way. We’ll see how you feel when you’re a mother one day.”

But she didn’t plan…never had planned…on being a mother. Caitlin herself had been raised by a series of nannies. Evelyn had never been the sort of nurturing mom she now suddenly wanted to be in lieu of Caitlin’s accident. Except on the horse show circuit.

Caitlin slid into the pickup, settling her cane against the floorboard. No. She’d never be a mother. She couldn’t really relate to Evelyn on a maternal level, and couldn’t transfer the concept to herself. Besides, she’d always looked forward to a career as an equestrian with a future in the field of animal science.

What she hadn’t planned on was the crash.

Facing forward in the seat, Caitlin looked at the windshield as Dillon drove through the gate and onto the county road. From there, they took a narrow dirt road to her new home. Caitlin noticed that the house on the old Bagley property across the road—a modest, two-story, pale yellow frame—no longer looked deserted…the For Sale sign gone. Curtains hung at the windows, chairs sat on the porch, and a blue Ford Ranger was parked out front.

Huh. She hadn’t counted on neighbors, but it shouldn’t be a problem. In addition to the narrow road, enough space divided their yard from hers to give her plenty of privacy. Plus, a small area of her backyard was fenced off.

“Here we are,” Dillon announced unnecessarily. He shot her the grin that made women swoon. “For what it’s worth, Cate, I think you’re doing the right thing.”

“Thanks.” His support didn’t take her by surprise, since he’d always been there for her, yet still, it choked her up.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t be keeping a close eye on you,” he added. Dillon lived on his own horse ranch a few miles from Foxwood Farms, dividing his time between both places.

“Yeah, yeah.” Caitlin grinned back at him as he turned off the ignition. But her grin turned to a frown as she opened the truck door and heard a familiar sound. A whinny, and not just any horse. Caitlin froze in her seat, staring at the four-stall barn and adjoining paddock behind the house. Silver Fox trotted back and forth along the fence, then stopped and hung his dapple-gray head over the rail. Ears perked, he stared at her with soft brown eyes, as though asking why he’d been moved from his familiar surroundings with the other horses. “What is Silver Fox doing here?”

Dillon’s smile slipped. “What, you’re not happy to see him? I thought he might cheer you up.”

Caitlin set her jaw. “Take him back to the stables.”

“Caitlin…”

“I mean it, Dillon.” She got out of the truck and slammed the door, stumbling as she fumbled with her cane. “Dad’s going to bring Spike over later once I’m settled in. He’s all the company I’ll need.” The two-year-old Jack Russell terrier had been hers since he was a pup, and his vigorous devotion and enthusiasm helped raise Caitlin’s spirits.

“Come on, don’t be that way.”

“What way?” She whirled to face her brother, the motion making her dizzy. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry. “How could you do this to me?”

Dillon’s mouth gaped. “Do what? I was only trying to make you feel at home by bringing your horse over.”

“Well, I don’t want him here.” She clumped up the walkway, tripping on an exposed rock.

Instantly, Dillon was at her side, catching her by the elbow. “Careful.” He glowered at her. “Maybe you’re not ready for this after all.”

“Would you stop treating me like an invalid!” Caitlin jerked out of his grasp. “I don’t need everyone hovering over me, I don’t need your help walking up to the damned door and I sure as hell don’t need Silver Fox reminding me of everything I’ll never have again!”

“Caitlin, wait.”

But she ignored him, moving toward the house with determination.

THE SOUND of raised voices floated to Alex on the clear mountain air as he stepped outside. He paused in the middle of lifting another sack of groceries out of the truck to listen. Odd. He’d been under the impression no one lived in the white-frame farmhouse. It was why he’d purchased the property across from it. Privacy for him and Hallie. He frowned at the sight of a tall man arguing with a woman who had her back to Alex. She walked with a cane and, as he watched, stumbled and nearly fell. The man took hold of her arm, and the two continued to argue heatedly before she turned and walked away.

Alex hesitated. It wasn’t any of his business. But even though he’d moved Hallie away from Aurora knowing the crime rate in Deer Creek would likely be low, he wasn’t naive enough to believe that domestic violence didn’t happen everywhere. Setting the bag of groceries back in the truck, he crossed the dirt road dividing the properties.

“Is there a problem here?” he asked gruffly as he drew close to the couple.

When the woman stopped and faced him, recognition hit him hard. It was her, the dark-haired, sapphire-eyed beauty he’d seen at Pearl’s Diner a few weeks ago. The woman Hallie had insisted was Caitlin Kramer. She was no longer in a wheelchair. He would’ve smiled if the situation at hand hadn’t been so serious.

“No, there’s no problem.” The man frowned at him. His jet-black hair and row of even teeth said pretty boy. His khaki slacks and polo shirt screamed money, as did his haughty attitude. “Who are you?”

“Alex Hunter.” He nodded in the direction of his own house. “I just bought the place across the road.”

The young woman raised one eyebrow in a way that sent his libido racing. “I didn’t realize I had a new neighbor. The Realtor’s sign was still up the last time I was out here.”

“I thought your house was empty, too,” Alex returned. “We just moved in a couple of weeks ago.”

“I’m Dillon Kramer.” Pretty Boy held out his hand, and Alex shook it, surprised to find it work-roughened, the man’s grip strong and sure. “This is my sister, Caitlin.”

So it was her. “I’ve heard of you.” Alex nodded and took Caitlin’s hand, relieved she was okay.

Her face flushed and her eyes darkened. “I hope you’ll excuse me, Mr. Hunter, but I’ve got things to do.”

“Sure. Sorry for the intrusion.” He gestured toward his place. “I’ve got groceries to put away myself.” He looked at Dillon. “Nice meeting you. You, too, Ms. Kramer.”

“Likewise,” Dillon said.

But Caitlin didn’t answer. She merely nodded politely, then turned her back on the two men and walked away.

To Alex’s surprise, Dillon addressed him softly. “Please excuse my sister’s rude behavior. She’s not normally like that.”

Alex shrugged. “I didn’t really think she was rude. I’m the one who barged over here uninvited.”

Dillon gave him a crooked grin. “You know, I’m actually glad you did. It’ll give me some comfort, knowing someone’s nearby to watch out for my sister.” He shook his head. “She’s very stubborn.”

A million questions hammered Alex as he stared at the closed door of Caitlin’s house. He knew enough from his daughter’s magazines to realize that equestrians of Caitlin Kramer’s caliber didn’t normally live in a modest old farmhouse. His eyes fell on the tall gray horse that moved restlessly in the nearby paddock. Was it the same animal Hallie had been in such awe of?

“Nice-looking horse,” he said. “My daughter’s been bugging me for one for some time now.”

“How old is your daughter?”

“Twelve.”

“Ah.” Dillon nodded. “Another young girl bitten by the horse-lover bug.”

Alex laughed, warming to the other man in spite of his initial reservations. “A common virus, I hear.”

“Oh, yeah. Caitlin was riding before she could walk. Of course, I was, too, so I guess it attacks us guys, as well.”

“Yeah.” Alex nodded. “I had a horse when I was a kid. But my mom and I moved to Denver when I was in junior high, and that was the end of that.” He didn’t like to think about how his mother lost their home after his father had died of cancer and the medical bills had eaten up all their savings and then some. Or the way she’d had to work two jobs to make ends meet.

He’d helped all he could when he’d grown old enough to work. He and his mother had had only each other to rely on, just like he and Hallie now did. His mom had passed away when Hallie was five.

“Guess I’d better let you get back to your groceries,” Dillon said with a wave. “If you decide to get your daughter a horse, come pay us a visit at Foxwood Farms. We’ve got some nice ones.” He headed toward the house.

I’ll bet you do.

Alex stared after him, wondering what Caitlin and her brother had been arguing over. Dillon seemed like a concerned and caring sibling. But then, one never knew what lay behind closed doors.

Alex walked back across the road, anxious to tell Hallie that she now lived across the road from one of her favorite horsewomen.

CAITLIN SAT in the living room, staring out the window. She felt tired, drained both physically and mentally. Her argument with Dillon had depleted her of the last of her energy, and she sat in Gran’s old rocker with a teacup of chamomile balanced on one knee, trying to calm her frayed nerves. She sipped from the cup, using her right hand to hold it, her left to awkwardly steady it. Her therapy continued twice a week, and though she was gradually improving, she still wondered if she’d ever be able to do the things she’d once taken for granted.

It broke her heart to see her grand prix jumper standing uselessly in a paddock when he should be in a show ring. Couldn’t Dillon understand that the gelding was a reminder of everything she’d lost? Understand or not, at least Dillon had agreed, albeit grudgingly, to get the horse trailer and return for Silver Fox.

Now as Caitlin watched Fox through the window, she saw the gelding’s ears perk. He was staring at something and, hearing the sound of a diesel engine, Caitlin craned her neck to see the far end of the paddock. A school bus was pulling away. A little girl, perhaps eleven or twelve, stood on the shoulder of the road, her gaze locked on Silver Fox. She hesitated and glanced toward the house. Caitlin ducked quickly out of view.

When she looked back, the girl was leaning on the paddock rail, talking to Fox. She stroked his nose, then bent and picked a handful of long, golden brown grass and fed it to him. The gelding lipped the treat from the girl’s hand as though starved, and Caitlin couldn’t help but smile. It brought back her own girlhood fascination with horses.

She set her cup of tea on the round, glass table near the rocker and reached for her cane. Despite her exhaustion, she moved toward the door. Outside, she called to the girl.

“Hi, there. You must be my new neighbor.” She hadn’t realized Alex Hunter had a daughter. Did he also have a wife?

The girl’s head snapped around, sending her long ponytail swinging, and her amber eyes widened as she looked at Caitlin. An odd expression crossed her face, and she pressed her lips together but said nothing.

“It’s okay,” Caitlin said. “I don’t mind if you feed my horse.” She walked excruciatingly slowly toward the paddock. “My name is Caitlin. What’s yours?”

For a moment she didn’t think the girl was going to answer. Long lashes shadowed the child’s eyes as she glanced down at her feet. “Hallie.” Then she reached up to pet Silver Fox’s nose once more. “I know who you are.”

“You do?” Caitlin was fully aware her neighbors knew of her aspirations to ride in the Olympics, and she’d been written up in more than one equine publication. Besides, the hit-and-run accident that had nearly killed her had been the talk of the town. She shouldn’t be surprised Hallie knew her.

“I recognized you from Horse Youth and Equus. I used to read them a lot.”

Recognition dawned with Caitlin, as well. She’d thought Alex Hunter seemed familiar. She remembered him now, as she looked at Hallie. They’d been in Pearl’s Diner on her birthday. Hallie had stared at her until she’d made Caitlin uncomfortable, overly conscious of her wheelchair and her limitations. They might be temporary, but she hated those disabilities, and had no idea how people who were permanently handicapped coped.

“I know you, too. Or at least, I’ve seen you before.” Caitlin forced a smile. “At the diner a couple of weeks ago.” Surely the girl hadn’t meant to be rude that day. After all, kids would be kids. But she also remembered the way Alex had stared at her. Not like she was a freak, but like he found her attractive. He was a good-looking man himself. But these days she didn’t feel much like flirting, and she wasn’t sure who had made her feel most uncomfortable, Alex or his daughter.

Elbows hooked through the paddock rails, Hallie looked at the gray gelding. “This is Silver Fox, isn’t it.” Her words came out not as a question but as a sure statement that she’d just met a celebrity of the four-legged variety.

“Yes, it is. The one and only.” She kept her tone light, though her heart felt heavy. She should sell the gelding. He was in his prime and worth six figures. No sense letting such a champion go to waste. The thought made her head throb.

“What happened to you?” Hallie asked abruptly. She looked down at the cane. “You were in a wheelchair that day at the restaurant.”

“Yes, I was,” Caitlin said. Deciding forthright was best, she met the kid’s honest, open gaze. “I was hit by a car. I suffered broken ribs, a bruised hip, a concussion and a compression fracture in my spine.”

Hallie frowned. “What’s a compression fracture?”

“It’s a break…it means I have to wear this back brace for another four weeks,” Caitlin said, lifting the tail of her shirt to expose the stretchy material that bound her like an old-fashioned girdle.

“Will it get better?”

“Probably.” But there would be residual pain, the doctor had warned.

“So then you’ll be riding in the Olympics?”

Caitlin pursed her lips. “Afraid not, kiddo.” She tapped her temple with one forefinger. “The concussion messed up my sense of balance. I can’t ride at all.” Hell, she could barely walk.

“So who’s going to ride Silver Fox?” Hallie asked.

Who indeed? Not me… Caitlin pushed the hated words from her mind. “I don’t know yet. My brother is going to pick him up today and take him back to my parents’ Thoroughbred ranch.”

“He is?” The child’s face fell.

Before Caitlin could answer, a rich, deep voice cut in. “Hallie, are you bothering Ms. Kramer?”

Caitlin turned to look over her shoulder at Alex, noting for the first time how dark his eyes were. How his hair was almost the same shade as her own, what she could see of it from beneath his black cowboy hat. In faded jeans, a Western shirt and cowboy boots, he looked every inch the rodeo cowboy, right down to the big oval buckle at his waist. It bore the outline of a quarter horse and, to her surprise, was engraved like a trophy buckle. She wondered if he’d actually won it. She hadn’t noticed any horses at his place.

“She’s fine,” Caitlin said. With effort, she looked away. The cane and her left arm, curled awkwardly at her side, made her self-conscious. She hadn’t even bothered with makeup since the accident, and her hair was in a careless ponytail much like Hallie’s. She looked more like a high school kid than a senior in college.

Former senior. For the millionth time, Caitlin cursed the drunk driver who’d shattered her life and murdered the unborn baby of the Good Samaritan in the Chevy Blazer, a woman who’d been five months pregnant.

“She knows better than to trespass,” Alex said, breaking her from her thoughts. But his tone wasn’t harsh, his voice conveying the love and pride he felt for his daughter. He grinned. “But then, so do I. Sorry about the misunderstanding earlier.”

Caitlin shrugged. “No problem.” She really didn’t want to get into her personal issues with a stranger. She wished Dillon would hurry up and get here, and take Silver Fox away. Then she could hide in the house and lick her wounds the way she liked best. Alone.

The three of them stood in awkward silence for a moment before Alex spoke. “Come on, Hallie. Let’s go home and fix some lunch.”

But the child ignored him.

He frowned. “Hallie?” He took a step toward the paddock.

To Caitlin’s shock, when the kid faced him, a single tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t want lunch,” she said. “I only wanted to feed the horse.” Her eyes accused Caitlin. “But he’s leaving, too. Everyone always leaves.” She jumped down off the fence and raced across the road and through the barbed wire fence around her dad’s property, disappearing over a rise in the ground.

“Hallie!” Alex called after her. He muttered, “I’m sorry,” then took off in pursuit.

Caitlin stared after them. What in the world was that all about? From the paddock, Silver Fox nickered softly.

“You’re always hungry, aren’t you?” Hobbling closer, she leaned the cane against the fence and cupped the gray’s head lovingly between her hands. He lowered his neck over the fence, rubbing against her. “Quit it,” she scolded him affectionately, scratching his jaw and the side of his face with her fingertips.

She buried her face in his forelock, inhaling the sweet scent of his coat, which was already turning fuzzy with the coming fall. Prior to the accident, she’d always kept him blanketed and in a warm stall to prevent his winter hair from coming in thick so he’d look good in the show ring. But once she knew their riding days were over, she’d instructed the stable hands to turn the gelding out on nice days to gradually acclimate him to the outdoors. No sense in keeping him cooped up now when he needed the exercise of roaming free in the pasture.

No sense in keeping him here, either.

He’s leaving, too. Everyone always leaves. What had the child meant? But it was none of her concern. Lord knew, she had enough problems of her own without worrying about some guy and his kid.

Caitlin felt a pull of sadness as she stood there. It wasn’t Silver Fox’s fault she couldn’t ride him anymore, and she shouldn’t take her spite out on the horse. She’d missed him during the weeks she’d spent in the hospital and in her bed at home. And unless she made a definite decision to sell him, there was no sense in shuffling the horse from one handler to another, one place to the next. She might not be capable of riding, but surely she could manage to feed and care for one single horse.

Perhaps with the help of a little girl who obviously had issues, and who maybe needed a friend. She ignored her wicked inner voice that reminded her the girl also had a handsome-as-sin father and most likely a mother.

It didn’t matter. No man would ever find her attractive again. Who in his right mind would want to take her to bed and look at her ugly, scarred and twisted body? It had been a while since she’d had a serious relationship. She’d chosen to focus on her horses, her riding and her studies. Thought there would be plenty of time for love later on.

Now all that had changed. She no longer had the career she’d wanted ahead of her, and she also no longer wanted a man in her life. To say she had nothing wasn’t fair, because her family loved her, and for that she was grateful.

She stared into the distance where Hallie and Alex had disappeared. Caitlin had thought to hide out in seclusion at the ranch. But something about Hallie had touched her.

Caitlin looked at the horse and sighed. “Maybe you ought to stay here, boy,” she said softly. “At least for a little while.” At least until she figured out exactly what she meant to do with her life.

Unclipping the cell phone from her belt, she dialed Dillon’s number. “Hey, big brother. You can have Dad follow you over here to bring my truck back whenever you get the chance, but forget the horse trailer. I’m going to leave Fox here with me. Yeah, that’s right.” Dillon’s rapid-fire response buzzed in her ear, and she rolled her eyes to the afternoon sky…so clear, blue and vacant above her.

Vacant…

Exactly like she felt inside.

“Yes, I promise I won’t try to drive right now. But I still want my truck.” She disconnected, then cane in hand, made her way slowly and painfully back to the house.

CHAPTER THREE

ALEX FOUND his daughter facedown in a patch of grass, sobbing. It was enough to break his heart. He crouched beside her and gently touched her shoulder. “Hallie, honey. Sit up. Come on, baby, let me hold you.” He held out his arms, and she flung herself into his embrace. Alex stroked her hair, soothing her until her sobs faded to hiccups and finally to an occasional sniff.

He pulled a clean handkerchief from his jeans and offered it to her. She took it, not saying a word, staring at the expanse of open land that stretched up beyond their property in a carpet of knee-high grass and dense clusters of scrub oak.

“You want to talk about it?” Alex asked. He’d learned long ago from Hallie’s therapist to let his daughter work her feelings out, and not to push. But damn it, it was hard to sit by feeling helpless while his little girl hurt so much. He’d only wanted to make her happy by bringing her here to the western slope. And now he wondered if he’d botched that, too. The therapist had warned him that sudden major change wasn’t a good idea. But as the months passed, he’d been unable to stand it any longer, not willing to stay in a neighborhood that no longer felt safe.

Hallie shrugged. “I dunno.”

He gave her a small smile. “You know, you’ve been talking to me quite a bit lately, more than you did when we were living in Aurora.”

Hallie remained silent.

“I enjoy talking to you,” Alex pressed gently. “Like the old days.” He’d been her trusted confidant, acting as both father and mother for as much of Hallie’s life as she could remember. “What happened back there at Caitlin’s? Did she do something to upset you?”

“No.” Again, she shrugged her shoulders. “I just thought it was cool to be living next door to her and Silver Fox. I hate it that she’s sending him away.”

But what Hallie had said—about everyone always leaving—obviously went far deeper than the horse being sent back to Foxwood. Alex stroked his daughter’s cheek. “Honey, you know I’m not going anywhere, don’t you?”

Hallie picked up a twig and traced circles in a patch of dirt near her feet. “Melissa left. And Grandma Hunter. And Aunt D’Ann and Uncle Vince moved to Wyoming.”

His gut twisted. Vince was married to his exwife’s sister, D’Ann. Melissa’s parents. Alex slipped his arm around Hallie’s shoulders and gave her a protective squeeze. “Not by choice, baby.” Not like your mother.

D’Ann and Vince hadn’t had a choice, either. Melissa’s death had destroyed them and they’d been unable to live in the town where their daughter had been murdered. Where so many memories haunted them. They’d returned to Laramie—Vince’s hometown.

“No. But that’s just it. Sometimes people don’t have choices. You don’t know what will happen. You can wake up one day and everything’s fine—” Her voice cracked and she struggled for control. “And the next minute it’s not fine. You’re dead or someone you love is gone.”

That his daughter should have such a fearful perspective bothered him more than Alex could say. He hated that she lived in a world where violence was common. Hated that he might have in some way contributed to that violence through his video games, desensitizing young people to bloodshed.

And now his twelve-year-old daughter, who should be worrying about boys, clothes and socializing with her friends, was instead worried about death and abandonment.

Alex laid his cheek against Hallie’s head. “You know, sugar, there are no guarantees in life. And there’s really nothing we can do about that. But there are promises, which we can choose to keep.” He pulled back and looked at her, hoping she could see in his eyes just how much he loved her. “And I promise, Hallie, I will never, ever abandon you. Not if I can help it. Besides, I’m planning to live to a ripe old age.” His lips curved in a teasing smile. “That way I can run off all the boys who come knocking on our door, at least until you’re thirty. And I’ll do the same for my granddaughters one day.”

“Da-ad.” Hallie rolled her eyes, and the gesture made his heart soar. To see her do something so normal felt wonderful.

“Well, okay.” Alex shrugged. “Maybe just until you’re twenty-nine.” He stood and took her hand. “Now, come on. You can’t sit here crying, or you’ll wash away the gully. You might even cause a flood.” He kept his voice light, hoping to make her smile.

But there were days when he wished the rain could pour down in a flood to rival Noah’s day, and wash away all the things that threatened his daughter and her happiness. He knew he couldn’t put her in a plastic bubble or lock her away in a bulletproof room. But he’d be damned if he’d let anyone hurt her. And if Caitlin Kramer was going to make her cry—albeit unintentionally—then he’d have to do his best to see to it that Hallie stayed away from her.

No matter how pretty he thought Caitlin was.

CAITLIN WOKE UP Saturday morning to a cold nose in the middle of her back. She jerked reflexively, arching her back, and a sharp pain shot through her spine. “Damn it, Spike!” Crankily, she opened her eyes and looked at the tan-and-white Jack Russell terrier her dad and brother had brought over when they’d returned her truck last night. The dog wriggled with joy, hopping across the bedcovers like a rabbit on speed. In spite of herself, Caitlin grinned and ruffled Spike’s ears. “You’ve got to learn better bedside manners than that,” she said, pushing away the sheet and blanket. Stiffly, she placed her feet on the floor. She looked at the clock—8:00 a.m. No wonder Spike was impatient.

Caitlin went to the back door and opened it for the little dog. She hoped he wouldn’t find a way to climb the V-mesh fence. Jack Russells were notorious escape artists. But it wasn’t as if she could’ve stepped outside in her camisole and panties to keep an eye on the dog. Not with Alex Hunter living across the way.

A short time later, Caitlin threw on some clothes and went out to feed Silver Fox, Spike trotting along ahead of her. The gray gelding whickered softly as she neared his paddock. She reached up to stroke his muzzle, planting a kiss on his velvety nose. “What’s the matter, boy? Did I wake up too late to suit you?” Fox’s normal breakfast time was 6:00 a.m. “Guess I’ll have to work on that, huh?”

In the barn, Caitlin leaned her cane against the two tons of hay Dillon had neatly stacked against one wall, near the fifty-five-gallon drums of sweet feed and alfalfa pellets. Even though the bales were somewhat stair-stepped, the ones on top of the pile were well out of her reach. Her brother tended to forget that the rest of the world was not six foot four. Grumbling, Caitlin stepped onto the bottom row of hay and began to climb, slowly, unsteadily, yet pleased she was able to do it. By the time she was within reach of the top row, she was shaking, her hairline beaded with sweat.

But she got a rush from doing the familiar task, one she dearly loved. The sweetness of the alfalfa-grass mix mingled with the clean scent of the wood shavings in Fox’s stall—comforting smells she’d known her entire life. Fox had come through the open entrance from the paddock to his stall, and he now nickered at her over the half door. “I’m moving as fast as I can,” she called down to him.

Spike had scaled the haystack as though it was nothing more than an anthill. He stood above her, docked tail wagging, his bright, curious eyes seeming to ask what she was waiting for. Caitlin laughed at the little dog, who appeared to be part cat half the time, and reached to grasp the twin loops of nylon twine on a hay bale.

As soon as she tugged it free, she realized her error. This bale likely weighed between sixty to eighty pounds, but Caitlin had completely misjudged it. The heavy load jerked her off balance, and she fell backward, tumbling down the stair-stacked hay. Involuntarily, she let out a shriek.

Spike bounded down and circled her where she landed on the dirt floor, barking for all he was worth. His antics made her all the more dizzy, and Caitlin groaned, clutching one hand to the small of her back. Thank God for the back brace. Still, pain shot through her extremities and her lower spine as she sat up unsteadily. She remained on the floor, trembling, myriad emotions running through her. Anger at her own stupidity. Frustration at not being able to do something so simple. And humiliation at having fallen like a helpless newborn filly trying to gain her legs. She raked a hand through her hair and growled a curse.

“Are you all right?”

Startled, Caitlin looked up into the wide eyes of Hallie Hunter. The girl stood in the doorway of the barn as though unsure of whether to move inside or take off running for help. Her face looked pale.

Caitlin shifted position, then moaned at a fresh stab of pain. “Yeah, I’m okay. Could you please hand me my cane?”

Hallie hurried to get it. She also reached out to give Caitlin a hand in rising to her feet.

“Boy, do I feel stupid.” Caitlin gave the kid a crooked grin. “Did you see me fall?”

Hallie’s face flushed, and she shook her head, her ponytail swishing. “No. I, uh, heard your dog barking and thought maybe something was wrong.” She bent to pet Spike, who leaped all over her with his usual vigor, as if he hadn’t seen a human in weeks. The girl giggled as the terrier licked her face. “He’s cute.”

“He’s a handful sometimes,” Caitlin said. “But I’m glad he set off the alarm.” She hid her embarrassment, knowing the child couldn’t possibly have made it across the road so quickly after Spike had begun to bark. She’d probably been lurking in the vicinity to visit Silver Fox again. In all likelihood, Hallie had seen her lose her balance and fall so unceremoniously from the haystack.

“I thought you were going to send Silver Fox to your parents’ ranch?”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind,” Caitlin said. “You want to help me feed him?”

Immediately, the girl’s face brightened. “Sure.”

But before Caitlin could move to cut the twine on the bale that had tumbled to the floor with her, Alex’s deep voice carried from across the way. “Hallie! Hallie, where are you?”

“Over here, Dad!” Hallie shouted. “In the barn.”

Caitlin’s stomach churned. What had she been thinking? That she could befriend the girl and avoid the kid’s dad? Self-consciously, she realized what a sight she must look. She’d tossed on a T-shirt with no bra and a faded pair of jeans. And she knew she had hay sticking in her hair, since she was still in the process of picking flecks of leaf and stem from it.

Lovely.

But what did it matter?

You aren’t yourself and you never will be. The guy was here for his daughter, not for her. Caitlin faced him as Alex came through the barn door.

“Hi,” he said, and then frowned at his daughter. “Hallie, you know better than to take off and not tell me where you’re going. I thought we talked about this yesterday.”

“Da-ad.” Hallie squirmed with obvious embarrassment. Looking up at her father, she quirked her mouth. “I was helping Caitlin.”

Caitlin made an effort not to mimic Hallie’s squirm as Alex’s gaze raked her from head to toe. She picked more hay from her hair. “She’s helping me feed.”

“Really?” Amusement lit his chocolate-brown eyes and his lips curved, making her heart beat faster. “Looks more like you’re wearing that hay than feeding it to your horse.”

She rolled her tongue against her cheek. “Yeah, well, I had a little problem pulling that bale off the stack. It more or less pulled me down instead.”

Concern instantly replaced his bemused expression. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. It was nothing.”

He glanced at her cane, and Caitlin wanted to melt into the floor.

“You know, if you need help, all you have to do is ask. I can even give you our phone number in case—”

“That won’t be necessary.” Caitlin cut him off, then realized she sounded rude. “But thanks.”

“Oh, I forgot—you’re sending the horse away.”

“Actually, I’m not.” She flashed him a forced smile. “But Hallie and I have things under control here. Right, kiddo?”

“Right.” Hallie grinned at her, eyes full of hero worship.

Caitlin was sure that wouldn’t last, as soon as the kid realized she was no longer the woman portrayed in the magazines. Ignoring her inner voice, she showed Hallie how to separate the hay into flakes and feed an armful of the large square sections to Fox. She stood patiently while Hallie cooed to the gelding and patted his neck. But her body throbbed, and all she really wanted was to go back inside the house and lie down. She didn’t even bother to protest when Alex moved three bales down from the top of the stack to the floor where she’d have easy access to them the next time she fed her horse.

Leaving Silver Fox to his breakfast, Caitlin walked outside with Alex and Hallie, trying to find a graceful way to escape their company. But before she could say a word, Spike suddenly bolted in pursuit of a rabbit that scampered across the open land beyond the barn.

“Spike! Come back here.” Caitlin knew it was futile.

“I’ll get him,” Hallie said, sprinting off after the dog.

“Hallie, don’t go far,” Alex called after her, his face pinched with worry.

Why on earth did he treat his daughter as though she were five years old? “What grade is Hallie in?” Caitlin asked.

“Seventh.” He turned, frowning at her. “What, you’re insinuating that I treat her like a baby?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He folded his arms. “You are way out of line, Caitlin. You have no idea where I’m coming from.”

She shrugged. “You’re right. None of my business.” She set a pace she could manage, following Hallie and Spike.

“Wait a minute.” Alex stopped her with his hand on her arm.

To her annoyance, every nerve along her skin responded. She scowled at him. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He sighed. “I’m sure Hallie will be fine. Let her catch your dog. Lord knows she’s got five times the energy I do.”

“Kids always have endless energy.” Abruptly, Caitlin felt light-headed and shaky.

“Are you all right?” Alex reached out to steady her.

“I’m fine.” Doing her best to maintain a casual air, Caitlin walked back toward the barn and sank onto a glider Dillon had installed near the walkway leading from the building.

“You don’t look fine,” Alex said, sitting beside her.

Sweat beaded her upper lip, and she knew it was a safe bet she’d either gone pale or flushed. “All right, maybe not fine, but I’m okay.” She laughed without humor. “Apparently even Spike is more than I can handle. Maybe I should send him and Silver Fox both back to the ranch.” She hoped her comment appeared offhanded.

Alex’s eyes were serious. “I read about your accident,” he said. “Hallie’s horse magazines finally caught up with us through our forwarded mail, and I was thumbing through them last night. There was a story about you in Equus.”

She didn’t want to talk about the crash. Hadn’t even wanted the magazine to do the article. But Gran had insisted that it was far better to get the facts straight than to leave everything open to public speculation and gossip. She’d wanted it made clear that while the driver of the SUV who struck Caitlin was suspected of—and later confessed to—being intoxicated, there had been no alcohol involved on Caitlin’s part.

“Then you know exactly what happened,” Caitlin said.

He was silent for a moment. “We had a terrible tragedy in our family about three months after you were run down by that drunk,” he said.

Surprised, she looked directly at him. “Oh?”

“Yeah. And since I can’t seem to keep Hallie away from your horse, I think it’s best you know about it.” He took a breath. “My daughter witnessed a drive-by shooting. But for the grace of God, it could’ve been her who was killed.”

Shock gripped Caitlin. “What happened?”

“She and her cousin were walking to a convenience store a few blocks from our house, when kids with a score to settle drove through the parking lot. They fired at some high school boys who were coming out of the store as Hallie and Melissa were going in. They missed the boys but hit Melissa.”

“Oh, my God.” Caitlin stared at him, not knowing what else to say.

“Melissa was thirteen,” Alex said. “She and Hallie were like sisters.” He fought to control his voice. “She died right there, while Hallie watched. Bled to death in the parking lot before help could arrive.”

Suddenly, Caitlin’s own problems seemed petty. “I’m so sorry, Alex.” She touched his knee. “I can only imagine what Hallie has been through.”

He nodded, glancing down at her hand, and she quickly removed it. “I don’t normally tell my business to everyone. But like I said, if Hallie’s going to hang out at your place, I want you to know what she’s been through. That’s why I’m a little overprotective.”

“I completely understand.” She felt like an ass for having criticized him moments ago.

Alex nodded, then rose to his feet as Hallie reappeared clutching Spike in her arms. Her smile obviously did Alex’s heart good, by the look in his eyes.

“Boy, your dog sure can run. I only caught him because he’d stopped to try to dig that rabbit out of its burrow.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes, hoping it would help hide her emotions. That Hallie wouldn’t be able to see her empathy. “That’s a Jack Russell for you. They’ll go to ground after a rabbit or just about anything else they see.”

“That’s what kind of dog he is?” Hallie asked. “I thought he was a mutt.”

Caitlin laughed. “He is. But he’s a purebred mutt. They’re a pretty popular breed out on the show circuit. Those and Welsh Corgis.”

“What’s a Welsh Corgi?” Hallie asked.

Caitlin laughed again, enjoying the girl’s curiosity. She proceeded to describe the breed.

“Hey, cupcake,” Alex said, tweaking his daughter’s ponytail. “If you’re going to pester Caitlin with a million questions, then the least we can do is offer to feed her.” He looked her way. “Your horse has had his breakfast. Have you had yours?”

“No,” she admitted reluctantly. The last thing she wanted was to go out to breakfast. Especially with Alex, with his dark eyes and cowboy drawl.

“Neither have we. Why don’t you come over and eat with us? I was about to whip up a batch of scratch pancakes anyway. You can even bring Spike.” He gave the dog’s head a pat.

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. “You make your pancakes from scratch?”

His deep chuckle sent shivers down her back and arms. “What, you don’t think a man is capable?”

“No. I mean, yes, I’m sure you’re capable. It’s just that…” Just that she’d mostly eaten out in restaurants or had her meals prepared by the family’s chef. How pretentious would that sound? She shrugged and laughed. “I’m not much of a cook myself, so actually that would be nice.” How could she say no? Especially with the way Hallie was looking at her, as though she walked on water.

Her heart went out to the girl. She’d suffered such a horrible trauma. Come close to being killed herself. It was something, regretfully, they had in common.

“Good,” Alex said. “Then it’s settled. Let’s go.” He slipped his arm around Hallie’s shoulder and began to walk back toward their house.

At least now Caitlin knew the answer to the question at the back of her mind. Alex wasn’t married.

As he waited for her to catch up, Caitlin had a nice view of his snug-fitting Wranglers.

Maybe that fact wasn’t such a good thing after all.

CHAPTER FOUR

PANCAKES. Alex made them every Saturday, yet he couldn’t remember having enjoyed them so much in a long while. He wondered if his pleasure had anything to do with watching Caitlin’s face as she closed her eyes and savored a bite of maple syrup-covered, made-from-scratch hotcake.

“Mmm, these are delicious.” She opened her eyes and looked at him, smiling. “I don’t normally eat such a heavy breakfast, but this is wonderful.” She helped herself to a fourth slice of bacon. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Dad cooks pancakes all the time,” Hallie said, heaping another serving onto her plate. “I love them.”

“You’d better slow down,” Alex said with a chuckle. “Or we’ll have to roll you out the door.”

Hallie gave him a mock grimace, swallowing a mouthful. “How many horses do you own, Caitlin?”

“Foxwood Farms has about thirty or forty head at any given time, depending on how many foals we’ve got. But personally, I’ve got three. Silver Fox is my grand prix show jumper, then I’ve got Black Knight—my hunter—and my retired gymkhana gelding, Red Fire. He was my first, and he’s a quarter horse/Thoroughbred cross.”

Hallie’s brows lifted. “You used to do gymkhana?”

“Uh-huh. Barrel racing, pole bending, scurry jump. It was the scurry jump event that gave me the bug to want to become a show jumper. That and watching those classy jumpers at the Denver National Western Stock Show.”

Hallie’s eyes widened even more. “Dad used to take me to the stock show every year. I love watching the jumpers. And the barrel racers.” Her animation made Alex’s heart soar. “I want to barrel race soooo bad. Dad says he’ll buy me a horse, now that we live in the country. But first we have to fix up the barn.”

“Really?” Caitlin paused. “If you’re serious, Alex, why don’t you bring Hallie out to Foxwood Farms to look at what we have for sale.”

“Actually, your brother already suggested that. But I’m not so sure a Foxwood Thoroughbred’s in my budget.” He smiled, his face warm.

Caitlin’s chuckle filled him with a pleasant heat. “You might be surprised. Not everything on the place is six figures, or even five.”

“Thank goodness,” Alex said. “I’d hate to have to take out a second mortgage to afford a horse for my kid.”

“Dad makes good money,” Hallie spoke up proudly.

“Hallie!”

“Well, you do.” She shrugged unapologetically.

“What do you do for a living?” Caitlin asked, her curiosity more obvious than her tone of voice let on.

For some reason that pleased him. “I design video games.”

“Not violent ones,” Hallie said.

Her words hurt. “I used to,” he said quietly. “But not anymore.” He exchanged a pointed look with Caitlin.

“Yeah, now he just designs boring games rated E for everyone,” Hallie said. “But he still makes good money.”

Not as much as he’d made in Denver, now that he worked out of his house. But the money didn’t matter. His daughter’s happiness and safety were all he cared about.

“Good enough to buy a horse?” Caitlin teased.

“Yeah, I think so.” He grinned, cutting into another pancake.

“So when can we go look at them?” Hallie practically jumped up and down in her chair.

Suddenly, Caitlin’s smile faded, and Alex felt her playful banter wilt like a deflated balloon. “I’ll call Dillon and make arrangements for you to see the horses.”

Hallie frowned. “Why can’t you take us?”

“Hallie,” Alex reprimanded, “don’t be rude.”

“It’s okay,” Caitlin said, looking at Hallie. “I’m not sure I’m up to showing you around. Your dad can bring you out to the ranch this afternoon though, and we’ll see. How does that sound?”

“Cool!” Hallie’s face immediately brightened.

Caitlin glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I’d better head home. Mom is going to pick me up in a half hour.” She grimaced. “I can’t drive yet.”

“I see.” Alex could only imagine how her limitations must frustrate her. “What time would you like me to bring Hallie out?”

“How does one o’clock sound?” Caitlin reached for the pen in the center of the table near the salt and pepper shakers. “If you’ve got a piece of paper handy, I’ll give you directions. It’s easy to find—about three miles from here.”

“If it’s that big ol’ place with the wrought iron gates and white rail fences, I already know where it is.”

She blushed. “That would be it.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see you at one.”

ALEX’S PALMS began to sweat as he neared Foxwood Farms. What was he doing here? Caitlin Kramer’s horses were obviously way out of his league, and now that he really thought about it, so was she. He had no business pretending he could afford a horse from such a highbrow ranch. But he hadn’t wanted to disappoint Hallie, and he figured the outing would do her good. If nothing else, she’d have a fun afternoon looking at all the horses, and then he would suggest they shop somewhere else.

Maybe Caitlin would point him in the direction of a horse breeder more within his budget. He grimaced, the thought just as sour in his mind as he knew the words would taste in his mouth. It wasn’t that he was trying to keep up with the Joneses. It was more a matter of wishing it was within his power to give Hallie whatever she wanted. He didn’t want to spoil her. He just wanted to shower her with love and anything that would make her happy.

“Daddy, look!” In her excitement, Hallie called him by the term of endearment she’d claimed to have outgrown some time ago. “Look at all the colts!” She pointed out the window at the mares and foals, grazing in a postcard-perfect expanse of green grass behind white fencing. Some of the foals played and bucked. Others nursed or nibbled grass alongside the mares, fuzzy tails flicking.

The sight brought back memories of his palomino mare, Goldie, and the buckskin colt she’d had the summer he was thirteen. He’d had to sell it when he and his mother moved to Denver.

Alex stopped in front of the set of wrought iron, electronic gates. He pressed the security buzzer and spoke to Caitlin through the speaker, then pulled his truck through the gates as they whirred open. Hallie was out of the pickup before it had even come to a complete stop.

Caitlin greeted them from the front porch. “Hi. Are you ready to look at some horses, Hallie?”

“You bet! Your foals are so cute.”

“Thanks. We can take a closer look at them, too, if you want.”

“All right.” Hallie dogged Caitlin’s heels as she made her way toward the paddocks, leaning heavily on her cane.

Suddenly, it occurred to Alex that maybe she was more exhausted from her physical therapy than she wanted to admit. But then, he supposed she would’ve had Dillon show them around if that were so.

She led them on a mini tour of the ranch, driving them in a golf cart. “This is about the only motorized thing I’ve been behind the wheel of lately,” she said. “But I suppose it’s a start.” After petting the foals, they went with her to the main barn. “Want to meet Red Fire and Black Knight?” she asked.

“Sure.” Hallie nodded, her ponytail bobbing.

Alex was in awe of the entire setup. Everywhere he looked were signs of immense wealth. Stable hands, exercise riders…high-dollar equipment of every sort imaginable, including a trio of electronic hot walkers outside the barn. He followed Hallie and Caitlin into the spacious barn. On either side of the aisle were rows of stalls with adjoining paddocks. Caitlin led them to one near the center of the building. Inside stood a huge black horse, probably a good sixteen and a half hands high, Alex guessed.

“This is Black Knight,” Caitlin said. “He’s eight.” She stroked the gelding’s neck as he leaned over the stall door.

The big horse lowered his muzzle toward Hallie as she tentatively stepped closer and ran her fingertips over the star on his forehead. “He’s huge!”

Caitlin chuckled. “Yes, he is—sixteen-point-three hands.” She moved to the next stall and spoke to the chestnut inside.

While this one wasn’t nearly as big as Black Knight, he was still a good size—about fifteen and a half hands. Alex definitely had something smaller in mind for Hallie.

“And this is Red Fire,” Caitlin said, her affection for the horse obvious in her voice. She cradled his head in her hands as he nuzzled her. “I’ve had him since he was four. He was my first speed-event horse outside of the Welsh ponies I rode early on. He’s seventeen…still in his prime.”

Hallie stroked the chestnut’s nose. “You’re a pretty boy, aren’t you?” she cooed.

“Actually, horses can reach their thirties,” Caitlin said, “given the right care and a little luck.”

“I know, I’ve been reading a lot,” Hallie said.

“That’s a good thing. Knowledge is power.” She grinned, and Alex’s heart raced.

God, she was beautiful. “So, how old were you when you got Red Fire?” he asked, hoping the question sounded casual, as though he were wondering if she’d been near Hallie’s age.

“Not much younger than Hallie,” she said. Her impish grin told him she was on to him. “I was ten, and I’ve had him for almost fourteen years. So that would make me twenty-four.” She widened her eyes at him. “Not the child you thought I was.”

He felt his face heat. “You are compared to my decrepit thirty.”

She laughed. “Hardly.”

Then she turned to Hallie as though realizing she was flirting with him in front of his daughter. No. It was more than that. Her entire attitude and body posture suddenly changed, as though she’d become abruptly aware of…what?

“So where are the horses that are for sale?” Hallie asked.

“We’ve got some in the barn, some out on pasture,” Caitlin said. She hesitated, and Alex frowned. Maybe she was finally realizing her horses were out of his price range. The thought irritated him.

“You can show us the horses,” he said. “I might not have enough to buy something for six figures, but I am capable of paying for a quality animal for my daughter.” He hoped. Lord, what if he’d just put his foot in his mouth but good? If she called his bluff…

He kept his poker face in place. To his annoyance, Caitlin seemed amused.

“I wasn’t implying anything to the contrary,” she said. “I was thinking that Red Fire is just standing here going to waste. I mean, he gets exercised regularly, but he’s happiest performing in the arena, aren’t you, boy?” She cupped the gelding’s jaw between her hands and planted a kiss on his muzzle.

Alex shivered. Her hands looked so soft. She had slim, delicate fingers and creamy skin, and somehow his mind was on something else, not horses.

“You mean you’d sell him?” Hallie asked eagerly.

“No, I couldn’t part with him,” Caitlin said. “But I could loan him to you.”

“Really?” Hallie’s eyes were round with anticipation.

“If it’s all right with your dad.”

“Whoa, hold on.” Alex held up his hand, glancing at the horse. “He’s awfully big.”

“Dad, he’s perfect.” Hallie bobbed up and down, waving her arms.

He hadn’t seen her this enthusiastic, this happy in ages. He wavered.

“He’s fifteen-two,” Caitlin said. “Smaller than any other horse on this ranch.”

“I’m familiar with how to measure a horse,” Alex said, feeling like a fool for not realizing the Kramers would only have big horses. He was used to quarter horses, which averaged about fifteen hands.

“Sorry.” She smirked.

“And fifteen-two is tall,” he went on.

Caitlin shrugged. “I guess I’m used to sixteen-plus jumpers.”

“He’s perfect, Dad,” Hallie repeated, eyes sparkling. She reached once more to stroke the chestnut’s blaze. “And he’s already trained for barrel racing.”

“Size is not the point anyway,” Caitlin said. “Red Fire is gentle and trustworthy. Bombproof. Child-proof.” She shrugged. “He’d never purposely do anything to hurt his rider.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of short and gentle.”

“I don’t want a pony,” Hallie said.

“There are plenty of good horses under fifteen hands, Hal,” Alex replied. But he felt himself weakening, even as he tried to stand firm. He’d do just about anything to keep her happy.

“I think I know a way to make you feel better about this,” Caitlin said. She motioned. “Come on. I’ll show you something.”

She led them to the sprawling, ranch-style house that stood centered on emerald-green landscaped grounds, with a marble fountain in front and creatively sculpted hedges. A stone walkway led to a massive, brick-trimmed porch. The front door opened before they mounted the stairs.

The dark-haired woman he’d seen that day at Pearl’s Diner flashed a welcome smile at him and Hallie. “Hello, there,” she said. “I see you made it over to visit our horses.” She held out her hand. “Caitlin and Dillon have told us all about you.”

“Alex, meet my mother, Evelyn. Mom, Alex Hunter and his daughter, Hallie.”

“Your mother? Whoa.” Alex flashed Evelyn a grin, unable to stop himself. “I thought you were Caitlin’s sister.”

Her laugh was full and genuine. “Oh, I like him already.” She winked at her daughter. “Come in, come in. Hallie, how are you, dear?” Evelyn held the door wide, welcoming them into a foyer that could’ve swallowed his and Hallie’s living room.

Alex tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help taking in the curved, sweeping staircase that dominated the far end. Photos of jumping horses lined the wall along it, and at the top of the staircase, overlooking the foyer, was a portrait of a young, blue-eyed woman and an elegant steel-dust-gray Thoroughbred.

Caitlin caught him staring. “That’s Gran,” she said, indicating the portrait, “and her all-time favorite show jumper, Iron Sword.”

“If your grandmother looks that young,” Alex said, “then I assume that’s the Fountain of Youth I saw in the yard.”

She laughed. “It’s Gran when she was fifteen.”

“Speaking of which, I’m off to meet her for lunch and to look at a stallion,” Evelyn said, glancing at her watch. She kissed Caitlin firmly on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, honey. Bye, Hallie. It was nice to meet you, and you, too, Alex.”

“Likewise.” He nodded, but Hallie was too enthralled by her surroundings to answer.

“Wow!” She spun in a circle, looking up at the vast ceiling…the chandelier overhead. “Why do you live in that old farm when you could live here?”

“Hallie!” Alex felt his face warm, but Caitlin only laughed.

“I have my reasons. Come on, let me show you why I brought you in here.” Alex followed her across a floor polished to such a high shine it looked wet. Caitlin opened a set of double oak doors, and they stepped into a sitting room, a den…a library?

He had no idea what the proper term would be. But bookshelves lined two walls, and over a marble fireplace in the third wall hung yet another portrait of a Thoroughbred. Trophies stood displayed on the mantel, the bookshelves and in three glass-fronted cabinets, representing jumping and Lord knew what other equestrian events. They ranged in size from modest to monstrous. And ribbons decorated yet another display case in shades of red, blue and violet.

Made the team-penning trophy buckle he’d won as a kid look puny.

From a drawer in a massive oak desk, Caitlin pulled out a scrapbook and sank onto a leather sofa. “Have a seat.” She indicated the couch on either side of her, then spread the book open on her lap. Alex sat beside her, fully aware of how close she was. She smelled wonderful, her skin scented with something subtle and sweet. He focused on the scrapbook.

On the first page was an eight-by-ten photo of a girl on a chestnut horse. “This is me and Red Fire at our first show. I was ten and he was four.” Caitlin tapped the yellow medallion-shaped ribbon on the opposite page. “We took third place in pole bending, and had a pretty darned fast time going on the barrels until I knocked one over.” She grimaced. “Five-second penalty.”

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