A woman with brown curly hair pulled into a side ponytail that flowed past her shoulder. A lush mouth in an angular face. Light-colored eyes that reflected the same blindsided attraction he was feeling.

All Conn could do was hold his hat to his stomach, which was flipping end over end, crackling with the tremors dancing through it. It was as if a bright light was blazing over his sight, a lightning strike that illuminated that night again.

White sheets on a bed â¦ a woman lying down on them, her hair curled over the pale linen. Come here, cowboy, she whispered â¦

Sheâd been in St Valentine.

She was the reason he was here. Somehow he knew that without a doubt.

When his vision cleared, she was still staring at him.

Something inside him told him that this had never happened before.

But how could he know for sure?

Dear Reader,

Thank you for returning to St Valentine, Texas, with me!

This time around, youâre going to meet Connall Flannigan, a Texas rancher who has returned to town for one reasonâafter an accident he lost his memory, and he keeps having flashes of St Valentine â¦ as well as a woman. When he finds her, Conn, a former playboy, discovers that he broke her heart.

Not the smoothest start to a courtship, huh?

However, in spite of all his former playboy ways, this ânew Connâ only knows how he feels about Rita Niles now, and heâs got a lot of winning over to do if heâs going to regain her affection and trust â¦

I hope that youâll drop by my website (www.crystal-green.com), where I always have a contest running. I would love it if youâd join me on Twitter, too, at @CrystalGreenMe!

All the best,

Crystal Green

About the Author

CRYSTAL GREEN lives near Las Vegas, where she writes for the Mills & BoonÂ® Cherishâ¢ and BlazeÂ® lines. She loves to read, overanalyze movies and TV programs, practice yoga and travel when she can. You can read more about her at www.crystal-green.com, where she has a blog and contests. Also, you can follow her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/people/Chris-Marie-Green/1051327765 and Twitter at www.twitter.com/ChrisMarieGreen.

Daddy in the
Making
Crystal Green

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my fantastic writer buddies, Ann, Ara, Cheryl, Janet, Judy, Lorelle, Mary and Sylvia.

Eternally onward!

Chapter One

âAre you sure youâre ready for this?â

Connall Flannigan didnât answer his brother at first. He just kept staring at the three-story, gray-wooded St. Valentine Hotel with its lacy curtains peeking through the windows.

How many times had he seen flashes of this place in what was left of his memory?

As a few obvious tourists brushed by him, Conn looked down at his hand, where heâd been palming a necklaceâgolden, shiny, with a pendant in the shape of an R that separated into two pieces that never seemed to fit together. Itâd been found in his pocket after the car accident, and heâd come to St. Valentine to find out why it mightâve been significant, and to fill the holes in his memoryâthe gaping spaces from the amnesia.

Conn wrapped his fingers over the necklace. âIâm not sure about much these days, but this?â He nodded. âIâm sure.â

Emmet, who had the same blue eyes and black hair as Conn did under their cowboy hats, looked wary. âI donât know what you think youâre gonna find here when the family can tell you everything you need.â

Conn shook his head. What he needed was something to jar his mind back to where it should beâa place where he would be forced to completely remember just what had happened right before the accident and even previous to that.

A place where he could find himself again.

Once more, the flashes came back to him: this hotel. The name âSt. Valentine.â A truck bearing down on his pickup just before the world went into a tailspin. And â¦

He held his breath, waiting for the most puzzling and heart-clutching image of all. A woman. Dark brown hair, curling over her bare shoulders. Gray eyes full of affection as she looked up at him from where she was lying on the bed, her arms reaching up for him â¦

According to Emmet and his other two older brothers, Conn had enjoyed his share of women in the past. Heâd never been the type to settle down, they said. Footloose, fancy-free and raising hell whenever possible. One woman on this livestock trip, another on that one.

Yet here he was, in search of this one woman whoâd haunted his thoughts since the accident four months ago, flash by provocative flash.

But if thereâd been so many women, why her in particular?

And why did he ache every time he thought of her?

âI just want to see whatâs in here,â he said to Emmet, gesturing toward the hotel. âThereâs got to be a reason Iâm remembering this place more than any other. And a reason Iâm recalling â¦â

âHer,â Emmet said just before he chuffed.

Conn sent a sidelong glance to him.

âIâve told you,â Emmet said. âSheâs just one of many, Conn. Your time would be better spent on the ranch with your family, relaxing, not running off to a little town that you drove through one night.â

âSo youâve told me.â Over and over. Connâs brothers in particular had been pointedly direct with him about his habitsâall the flirting, all the disappointed women heâd left behind. They told him that, even though heâd always made it clear that he wasnât in anything for the long haul, heâd always managed to make the ladies think that they were the ones, only to break their hearts in the end.

Conn had a hard time imagining he could be that callous, even if he was friendly enough about loving âem and leaving âem.

âWell,â Emmet said, planting a booted foot up on the boardwalk. âIf thatâs how you want to go about this, the sooner you get this done, the sooner we can go back home.â

Conn grabbed onto the image of home, as if he was afraid of losing that, too. Home was the cattle ranch he ran with his brothers about a hundred miles away from St. Valentine, Texas. They told him that he went on business trips, such as for selling and replenishing livestockâthe type of trip heâd been on when heâd had the accident. Heâd felt a connection to home when heâd returned there, although thereâd been something else, as well, along with the comfort, a yen to go somewhere beyond the ranch. And, months later, itâd turned out to be St. Valentine, for whatever reason.

He stepped onto the boardwalk, taking off his hat and running his fingers through his hair. His heart was beating a mile a minute.

Brown hair â¦ gray eyes â¦

At the flash that kept coming to him every once in a while, his pulse jerked to a pause before jumping to a start once again.

He was just anxious about getting this over with, getting on with his life. That had to be it.

As he and Emmet walked toward the hotel, then entered the lobby, Conn took a moment to absorb the fringed lamps, the velvet-upholstered furniture, the scent of lemon polish and wood. Tasteful maroon-and-beige wallpaper lent some ease to the tone of the room, but Conn wasnât feeling so easy at all.

They moved to the reception area, where tourists lingered, reading framed newspaper articles on the walls about the so-called ghosts that haunted this Old West establishmentâsupposedly a gentleman and a lovelorn woman from the 1930s. There would also be articles about the town founder, Tony Amati, and that was why these tourists had come to town on a warm November weekday, Conn thought. Theyâd been lured by a new mystery that had been uncovered by a couple of town reporters whoâd realized that old Tony, the former Texas Ranger, had died under a shroud of seeming conspiracy and strange circumstances.

To hear the tales, Amati, whoâd settled in these parts and founded St. Valentine way back in the late 1920s, had started to matter more than ever around here after a man who was his spitting image had wandered into town over four months ago, before Conn had arrived. People had started looking very closely at the pictures of the town founder then, comparing them to the stranger, the cryptic Jared Colton. Theyâd started getting very interested in Tony, tooâa man whoâd done so much for St. Valentine, yet had managed to remain a puzzle all the same.

Both Tony and this modern-day stranger had certainly captured everyoneâs romantic inclinations and imagination. And the town, which had suffered through rough economic times, was now starting to benefit from the story, attracting more and more tourists. Just how had Tony died? everyone wondered. And why had he been so darn reclusive? Everyone wanted to poke around and solve the mysteries. Magazine articles and travel shows had been sniffing around town, tooâthereâd even been some kind of TV ghost show that had camped out in the St. Valentine Hotel, the papers said.

Yup, Conn had sure done all the research he could about St. Valentine before coming out here. Not that it had helped with his own mysteries.

âAny of it look familiar?â Emmet asked.

âNot really.â

Emmet gestured toward the reception desk. âYou want to find out if you checked in here that night?â

The hotel had wanted to see some ID in person before giving out that kind of sensitive information. âYeah.â

Conn took a step toward the long desk, then stopped in his tracks, stilled by a bolt of electricity.

A woman with brown curly hair pulled into a side pony tail that flowed past her shoulder, her torso covered by a white old-fashioned, high-collared blouse that was obviously a part of the hotelâs uniform. She had a lush mouth in an angular face, and light-colored eyes that reflected the same blindsided attraction he was feeling.

All Conn could do was hold his hat to his stomach, which was flipping end over end, crackling with the tremors dancing through it. It was as if a bright light was blazing over his sight, a lightning strike that illuminated that night again.

White sheets on a bed â¦ a woman lying down on them, her hair curled over the pale linen. âCome here, cowboy,â she whispered â¦

Sheâd been in St. Valentine.

She was the reason he was here. Somehow, he knew that without a doubt.

When his vision cleared, she was still staring at him, just as if sheâd seen one of the ghosts that this hotel was supposed to house.

Did his knees ever go this weak with all those other women heâd supposedly been with? It sure as hell hadnât happened with the nurses at the hospital. Then again, they hadnât looked like this brunette.

Besides, something inside him told him that this had never happened before.

But how could he know for sure?

Clutching the necklace until its edges dug into his palm, Conn left Emmet and went to the desk. The woman was still behind it, by herself, but from the way she looked away from him, down at the counter, Conn could tell that she wished she had any guest but him in line for some service.

In fact, as she glanced up again, her gaze had gone from thunderstruck to steely, all in a tumultuous second.

He didnât even have the chance to utter a hello before she said in a low tone, âSo youâre back.â

Steely, all right. A gritted comment that nearly set him back on his heels.

This was the woman in his fragmented memories, right? The limpid-eyed lady whoâd begun to appear to him recently at night, giving him pleasant dreams. The one whoâd been so happy to be in his bed.

He showed her the necklace, the R split in half across his palm. She sucked in a breath, but then, as if she was real good at recovering quickly, that breath turned into a small laugh.

âYou came here to return this?â She was still talking quietly enough so that her voice didnât carry. âBetter late than never, I suppose.â

Return it? Why had he taken it in the first place? He thought that maybe he should apologize about something, but he wasnât sure just what it was he would be sorry for.

âCan we talk?â he asked. âI needââ

âTalk? Thatâs a good euphemism.â She laughed again, taking up a pile of paper and neatly straightening it on the desk. âIâll tell you what, cowboyâyou just keep that trophy of yours and weâll call it even.â She nodded at the necklace he was still holding. âYouâve had it for going on four months, anyway.â

Four months. She wouldâve been here, at the St. Valentine Hotel, during his fateful trip.

He glanced down at the necklace again. The letter R. Then he looked up at her name tag.

Rita.

Except, on the tag, her name in cursive was one continuous string, unlike the separated necklace. Unlike his life now.

She called over a young clerk who was straightening a rack of brochures, and once she was manning the desk, Rita walked to the far end of the structure, to a quiet corner where the desk still barred her from him. Conn could hear Emmet clearing his throat as he left him behind.

Conn peered over his shoulder at his brother, who was awkwardly standing there with a âSo? What gives?â expression. But it mightâve also been a âTold you this woman was just as temporary as the othersâ look.

Conn jerked his chin toward Rita, conveying that he still had a lot to take care of and that maybe Emmet should read some of those framed articles on the wall to pass the time. Emmet shrugged and wandered off.

As Rita shuffled papers, probably wishing Conn would think she was too busy to continue talking, he didnât take her none-too-subtle hint.

âI apologize for the inconvenience,â he said softly, not wanting to make a scene. Strangely, that woman-luring charm his brothers had commented on still came easily to him when not much else did. âBut I could really use your help.â

He added a smile for good measure. He had a feeling it had worked a million times.

âMy help?â She didnât look up at him. âAre you asking me for a place to stay the night again? A warm bed? A willing woman who doesnât know any better than to listen to your promises?â

Oops.

âBegging your pardon,â he said, âbut I hope youâll believe me when I tell you that I donât know anything I said to you that night. Thereâs a good reason I came back here, and it wasnât to return a necklace.â

Eyes narrowed, she waited for him to go on.

He leaned his elbow on the desk, setting his hat down on it. Even from this distance, she smelled like berries and vanilla, and he nearly closed his eyes as the scent traveled through him, warming him deep down. It was as if he hadnât ever forgotten this part of her, even though the memory had just reemerged.

But he shook himself out of it. Good God, he didnât have time to be sniffing around a random woman who was no doubt one of many more. He needed to talk to her, not to get her into bed again.

âThis is going to sound odd,â he said. How did a guy get around to telling a woman something that amounted to the lamest excuse in the world? Why would she even believe him?

But what else was he going to say?

He was still holding her necklace. âIâd really like your help in â¦ Well, first off, I need to know when we â¦â

âDid it? Youâve got to be kidding me.â

All right. That was one way of getting over the awkwardness. She was just as forthright as his brothers.

âI wish I were kidding,â he said. âI had some business at the Hervy Ranch about a half hour away in Julyââ

âI know. You were dealing with livestock. You told me that right before you talked me into â¦â

She pressed her lips together, color rising in her cheeks. A buzz skimmed his belly at just the mention of what had gone on between them, even though this wasnât the time or place for it.

The important thing was that heâd done more than just had sex with her. She was someone heâd talked to around the time of his accident, although he didnât know how long they had chatted before getting to the bedroom. If she could just give him more details about their time together, maybe that would kick-start his brain and he could piece together more of what had happened before and just after the accident.

She shot him a slanted look. âWhy the hell wouldnât you know when we â¦â She lowered her voice, glancing around. Discovering that the lobby had emptied, she added, âWere together?â

Here it went.

âWhen I left St. Valentine,â he said, âI got in an accident on the way to my appointment. Enough of one to send me in an ambulance to the hospital.â

She raised her eyebrows. On her face he saw shock â¦ until her gaze softened for a vulnerable moment.

âAn accident?â she asked.

âThatâs right. And afterward I didnât remember where I was, who I was â¦ My brothers and mom were there to help me put things together. Most things, anyway. Iâve got holes right where a lot of my memory used to be.â

She just kept watching him, her gaze finally going from soft and gray to unreadable and cool.

Then she laughed softly, and it wasnât a funny laugh. Her gaze was sad now.

âThis is a joke, right?â she asked.

âNo.â What kind of psychotic would approach her again just to lay a line like this on her?

âWhatever it is, itâs not funny at all.â

Conn started to assure her that he was deadly serious, but she had already abandoned her stack of papers and rounded the desk corner, her body fully revealed now.

As he laid eyes on her slightly swelling stomach pressing against her skirt, he froze, unable to follow her.

Rita Niles never looked back at him. She just blindly headed for the hallway, then the closed door to the tearoom, hoping he wouldnât see where sheâd gone.

Conn Flannigan, the man sheâd put so much hope in, even after one night. Dumbly, naively, regretfully.

She calmly opened the door, but as soon as she was in the empty kitchen, she leaned on a stainless-steel counter, dizzy, her pulse so loud in her ears, so wild in her chest, that she almost slumped to the floor.

But not quite, because sheâd promised herself that nobody was ever going to do this to her again. Not after what her ex-fiancÃ©, Kevin, had done to her. And definitely not after sheâd dropped her guard during a wonderful night of seduction with this cowboy, finally believing that sheâd been wrong about love all these years.

She rubbed the curve of her belly, fighting the tears.

Conn Flannigan.

When sheâd seen him in the lobby today, itâd shocked her right down to her toes, her body tingling in places that shouldâve been smart enough to go numb after she thought sheâd been left high and dry by him. But, with him standing there, with his thick, black hair that curled up at the ends, with his shining blue eyes, with every inch of lean, tall cowboy in a Western shirt, jeans and boots, sheâd come alive in very dangerous ways.

And it was happening now, too, as that night filtered back to her.

Sheâd been sitting in the Queen of Hearts Saloon, resigned to hours of drudge work ahead of her at the hotel. Sheâd been in threadbare jeans, an untucked blouse, with her hair pulled back in a haphazard ponytail, yet when heâd walked in, she was the only one heâd looked at.

And that look â¦ Even now, she shivered from the intensity of what itâd done to herâbreathing fire under and over her skin, sizzling through her until it consumed every inch. She couldâve even sworn that time had stopped for both of them, couldâve sworn that every one of his cells was vibrating just as hard as hers were.

If she had the capacity to believe in love at first sight, she might have said that she fell in love with him then and there. Maybe, in those first few crazy moments sheâd gotten the closest to love she would ever get again.

Heâd ambled right over, offering to buy Rita dinner, sweet-talking her until her knees went to jelly. Sheâd never clicked so quickly with anyone, flirted so easily, not even with Kevin, whoâd taken the slow route with her during days of high school dances and after-graduation dates. But Conn?

That nightâthat damned magic nightâitâd felt as if Conn had been the man she shouldâve held out for all along.

Heâd walked her back to the hotel, and much to her surprise, sheâd found herself forgetting every lesson sheâd learned. Her body overtaking her mind, sheâd invited him in, first to the lobby. Then, when sheâd resigned herself to ditching her all-night work shift, sheâd clandestinely invited him to an empty room a floor below her own quarters in the hotel.

Sheâd been lost in him so deeply that sheâd thought â¦

Well, sheâd thought that things could be different this time. Thought that sheâd somehow wonderfully crossed a line sheâd drawn years ago after Kevin had left her and their daughter.

Itâd been that good with Conn, and that was why she hated himâbecause heâd seemed to be the answer for her. Because heâd made her body and soul agonize for so many nights afterward.

Now, Rita rested her hand on the baby growing inside of her. Ridiculous. Sheâd been ridiculous to think that one night might change everything, especially for a person whoâd spent a long while shuttering herself away, slat by slat, until she looked at the world only through the cracks.

But â¦

For one night, it really had been that good.

He hadnât checked in to the hotel, so sheâd never gotten his contact information. Besides, heâd told her he was going to be back, so she hadnât asked for a phone number, an address. Heâd taken her necklace in a playful moment, saying he would return it to her that night when he returned for more, almost as if it were a vow.

Sheâd believed in him.

Believed and been abandoned.

But, she thought, heâd had amnesia.

She started to laughâa crazy, cracked-at-the-edges laugh that trailed into the threat of more tears as she leaned her head down on her arms, which still rested on the kitchen counter.

Amnesia. How stupid did he think she was?

As she stifled another sob, doubt crept into her. What if â¦

No. Amnesia was so far out of the question that she shouldnât believe it.

Still, the doubts stayed with her, even as she heard footsteps outside the kitchen door. She put on her âboss face,â straightening up, swiping at her cheeks and finding a few stray tears, then walked toward the entrance to the tea room, just as Margery Wilmore busted through the hallway door.

She had a plump chest and was motherly and gray-haired. âHowâs my Rita doing?â

âRight as rain.â Rita glanced at her watch. âTea prep already?â

âLike clockwork.â The older woman sent Rita a concerned look. âYou okay, honey?â

Rita nodded. Margery was a carryover from the days when Ritaâs mom used to run the hotel, back before she and Dad had passed on. When Rita had taken over at the age of twenty-three, Margery had âkindlyâ tried to offer all kinds of advice, even though Rita had been working at the hotel since she was old enough to carry out orders, raised to take over operations one day. Now, ten years later, Margery still hovered, casting a suspicious eye at Ritaâs tummy when sheâd started showing recently.

But didnât everyone hover in their own ways? After Kevin, Rita had sort of become St. Valentineâs pet project. The town screwup whoâd been saving up to go to college for years after graduationâand wouldnât you know it? Sheâd actually earned a business scholarship but had given it up when sheâd gotten preggers.

A pregnancy had been out of character for her, the straight-? student. And, even more off-putting to a lot of folks around here, after Kevin had left her and she had proudly set out to be a single parent, she had refused interference or unwanted advice from everyone who âknew betterâ in a town where traditional family values ruled.

Now, she was going for another round of out-of-wedlock parenthood.

âYouâre running yourself ragged,â Margery said, resting a hand on Ritaâs cheek to test her temperature.

Rita deftly shied away. âIâm just fine.â

The older woman clucked her tongue. âYou and your stubbornness. Someday itâs all going to catch up to you, especially raising Kristy alone.â

Thatâs rightâMargery knew best. How could Rita have forgotten?

Her cell phone rang, and gratefully, she went into the empty hallway and answered, not caring who was on the other end. When she heard the voice of her best friend, Violet, she almost cheered.

Too bad Viâs actual words didnât have the same effect on her.

âIs it true?â she asked.

Rita wouldnât play dumb. âYou already heard?â

âSmall town. Grapevine. Newspaper reporter. Go figure.â

Gossip traveled at the speed of light in St. Valentine, but it wasnât as if Rita had never been its subject before.

âHe just showed up, Vi. Out of nowhere.â

âWant to talk about it over some lunch?â

They agreed to meet in ten minutes at the Queen of Hearts Saloon, which belonged to Viâs family. Rita went to the lobby, taking care to scan it before she entered.

No sign of the cowboy.

Relievedâwas that the word she was looking for?âshe crossed the lobby, telling her desk clerk that she was going on lunch break, then feeling the girlâs eyes on her. And why not, when Janelle had probably seen Conn Flannigan in here with the necklace and heard some of their conversation while sheâd been straightening the brochures?

Head held high, Rita tried her best not to feel like the town screwup once again as she left the hotel, wondering if Conn Flannigan was outside.

Wondering if she was going to be able to avoid telling him just who the father of her unborn baby was.

Chapter Two

âI wish heâd just stayed away,â Rita told Vi as she sat across from her at the Queen of Hearts in an out-of-the-way corner booth where the low-volume country songs on the jukebox were even more muted. The wagon wheel light fixtures hovered overhead, and a bunch of regulars ate burgers and drank beer at the bar, surrounded by sepia-hued pictures of the town during its early days.

âIt sounds to me like he really does have amnesia.â Viâs brown eyes reflected sympathy. Even though she was on lunch break from the small-town-reporterâs desk, she had an iPad next to her, ready to catch any breaking news should it come their way. âItâd be a good reason for him to come back here, retracing his steps before his accident. And heâd have no idea how ticked off youâd be. Besides, who goes around telling stories like that unless theyâre true?â

Rita hadnât touched her chefâs salad yet, but Vi was munching away on her fries. Sheâd been there for the morning after when Rita had still been on cloud nine after her night with Conn. But Vi had also seen the aftermath and how itâd decimated a newfound confidence for Rita that had lasted less than twenty-four hours before sheâd felt the shame of supposedly being lied to and left behind once again.

âSo whatâre you going to do?â Vi asked, dipping a fry in catsup.

âWhat can I do?â Rita jabbed at a piece of ham with her fork. âI shouldnât have done anything in the first placeâexcept for running straight out of here when he bellied up to my table that night. I shouldâve knownââ

âHey, you couldnât have known.â As Vi leaned forward to rest a hand over Ritaâs free one, her shoulder-length, dark red hair swung forward. âYou were ready to move on after years of hating yourself for what happened with Kevin.â

âYou werenât happy when I told you about Conn after our â¦ night.â

âI was being protective. But now thereâs a baby involved, and that changes everything.â

Rita cradled her slightly curved tummy with her free hand. âThat night, I shouldâve just thought more about what it felt like when Kevin left. That wouldâve stopped me from giving in to Conn.â

But she hadnât been able to think about anything or anyone â¦ except for the cowboy at her table, his eyes sparkling with fun, drawing her into their depths with âwhy not?â allure.

But, as sheâd waited for him the day and night afterward, sheâd found out âwhy not.â The minutes had ticked by to one hour â¦ two â¦ then to midnight. And still no Conn. The next morning had come, then passed, then the next and the next.

By that time, she knew sheâd been had, and sheâd closed up her heart tighter than ever, knowing that she was the only one she could depend on.

And then sheâd missed her period, although Rita couldnât and wouldnât regret getting pregnant.

Maybe that was what life had in store for her. Always a great mother to the children she loved more than anything, but never a wife.

âYou know what the most embarrassing part is?â Rita finally asked.

Violet swallowed her bite of burger. âWhat?â

A wounded laugh escaped. âThere was something that kept needling at me, telling me that there was a really good reason he didnât come back.â

âAnd there ended up being a good reason. Doesnât it make you feel better to know that he didnât reject you? That it had everything to do with circumstances beyond his control?â

Vi was wearing one of those looks filled with optimism. And why shouldnât she? This weekend, she was going to marry millionaire Davis Jackson, her star-crossed lover from high school. They had been run through the gauntlet after Vi had come back to town after having lost her job on a city newspaper and returned to St. Valentine to lick her wounds. Davis had always loved herâthe girl from the wrong side of the tracksâbut Vi hadnât been sure he was pursuing her again because of that or to get payback for how she had broken his heart. Now, though, everything was wedding marches and roses for her.

No, Rita didnât feel nearly as positive as Vi.

âIâm just considering myself lucky to have escaped this one,â she said. âConn is my cautionary tale.â

âFor what could happen if you should ever let your guard down again and someone crushes you for real. I get it, Rita.â

âI mean, he didnât return to St. Valentine to request my forgiveness or to sweep me off my feet again, right? And if he saw my stomach, he probably flipped.â

âYou donât know if he saw it?â

âI didnât look at him to make sure while I was hightailing it out of the lobby.â

âYou couldnât bring yourself to see his reaction. I get that, too.â Vi sighed. âBut if you left him in the dust like that, how can you be so sure just what he wants to do?â

What he wanted to do â¦ A glimmer of the same excitement sheâd felt that nightâand even today when sheâd first seen himâshimmered deep in Ritaâs chest, where it felt as if something were struggling to come alive.

Why wouldnât it just go away?

Vi leaned back in her seat, probably knowing Rita wouldnât answer the rhetorical question. âWord has it that there was something in the air when you two laid eyes on each other this afternoon, you know.â

What did everyone else know? âAnd since when are you such a fan of gossip?â

Vi made a âtouchÃ©â gesture. Sheâd suffered plenty of gossip herself, when her off-limits millionaire had flown in the face of everyone in town to court her.

A waitress came by, asking if they would like anything else. Rita requested a to-go container and the server left without dropping off a check. She knew Vi had it covered, since her parents owned the place, which had seen a spike in customers since Viâs journalistic work had been featured in a âTony Amati Mysteryâ story that had gotten some airtime on a national news magazine program last month. It was true that Vi and Davis, who owned the small-town newspaper, hadnât been able to dig up much information about Tony lately, but that hadnât stopped them from staying the course.

âTo-go?â Vi asked. âYouâre deserting me?â

âIâll have to eat the rest after I pick up Kristy from preschool. She likes the little chunks of ham, anyway.â

Vi wasnât letting this go. âSo â¦ thatâs going to be it, then? Youâre going back to the hotel, back to the bubble of your reception desk?â

âSafest place on earth.â

âRita â¦â

She slumped in her seat. âListen, I know that youâve fallen in love and you just want everyone else to be as happy as you are. But I canât do it again. I canât have my pride and â¦â She rested a hand over her heart. âI canât have it bruised again.â Then she put her hand on her tummy, rubbing it. âSo, yes, Iâm going back to the hotel to do some maintenance work after I pick up Kristy. And Iâm going to hope that Conn Flannigan has already driven back home without knowing anything more than he needs to.â

Then she eased toward the edge of her booth seat, intending to get out. âThe bottom line is that he doesnât really remember what went on between us that night. Thatâs probably a blessing in disguise. Iâm sure we both acted in a way weâd regret now, after the heat of the moment.â

âIf thatâs how you want it.â

Greatâthe guilt trip. But Rita was firm in her resolutions. That night four months ago, sheâd rushed into something sheâd never thought she would be going into again. But now, with some time and distance behind her, she really did think that sheâd dodged a bullet. The hotel had been busier than ever, and Kristy needed a mother who was focused on her, not on hormonal desires and scatterbrained affairs.

âRita?â Vi smiled sadly. âIâd give anything to see you and the kids happy.â

âAll of us are just fine. Weâll be very happy.â

Rita just wanted to raise her daughter and this new child to be more than what sheâd been known as in St. Valentine ever since Kevin had become a bitter, different man, then left her for the other woman sheâd found out heâd been seeing while she was pregnant.

Yes, Rita was the hard-luck case. But sheâd done a damned good job of raising Kristy in spite of that untilâ

No, she didnât want to mull over Conn Flannigan again. Didnât want her heart to ache with an agonizing heat just at the thought of him.

The waitress brought the to-go container, and Vi stayed seated as Rita grabbed her purse, sliding the strap over her shoulder.

âSomeday,â Vi said, âyouâre not going to be able to ignore how you feel, Rita. You found it real easy to fall in love when we were kids. I wish it could be just as easy for you nowadays.â

Ritaâs pulse thudded in bruised rhythm, but just as she was about to buck up, the room suddenly went still, as if something had entered and caught everyoneâs attention.

When Rita glanced toward the entrance, her throat was tight. Was it â¦?

Then she saw who had come in, and she relaxed, even though her heart jittered in her chest.

It wasnât Conn, thank goodness. But it was a man in beaten jeans and a long-sleeved black Western shirt who had taken a seat at a table that was removed from everyone else. He left his black cowboy hat on, the better to shade a dark-eyed, stoic face that everyone in town hadnât stopped talking about since heâd arrived months ago, only to settle just on the outskirts of town after getting a job on a nearby ranch and renting a cabin.

The Tony Amati look-alikeâJared Colton. And he was just as aloof as heâd been when heâd first arrived. He was a ringer for all the photos of Tony Amati hanging on the hotel and Queen of Hearts walls, and even though everyone had their own theories about how he was connected to the town founder, he was still a mystery that Vi and Davis had been trying to solve through their journalistic investigation and the published articles that had been picked up by some national outlets.

Rita didnât mind him at all, seeing as heâd helped stir up interest in St. Valentine, which had been languishing after the kaolin mine had stopped producing âchina clayâ for things such as plastic, paints and paper. Jared and Tony had certainly pumped up tourism and given her more to do, so that she could forget about her cowboy.

âThe cipher cometh,â Vi whispered across the table. She grabbed her iPad with one hand, polishing off the last fry on her plate with the other. âIâve got work to do.â

âHeâs already told you a million timesâno interviews.â

âMaybe this is the time heâll break.â Vi flashed her a determined smile and was off.

Jared saw her coming, but his expression never altered, even as Vi took a seat across from him.

When Rita left the saloon, she was careful to look both ways on the boardwalk before fully coming outside. Not seeing Conn Flannigan anywhere, she started to walk toward Kristyâs preschool, telling herself that Conn had gone home again.

But why didnât it feel so great to realize that?

Conn and Emmet had stopped at a little Tomorrowland-like joint called the Orbit Diner for lunch, and now they were walking back to Emmetâs pickup truck, which theyâd parked just off Amati Street, nearer to the hotel.

âI wish youâd reconsider,â Emmet said.

âThereâs too much to walk away from here.â During lunch, Conn hadnât said anything about the tiny pooch of Ritaâs belly. For all he knew, it couldâve been due to a weight gain, but he planned to get to the bottom of the story today.

His pulse gathered speed every time he thought of her coming out from behind the hotel desk â¦ the little bump on her â¦ the way sheâd left him frozen in his tracks.

What if she was pregnant?

Somethingâa memory?âstirred in the back of his mind, but it didnât come through. Not yet. All he could hold on to now was his confusion at not knowing what the hell he felt.

A baby, he thought.

Was he even the type of guy who would make a good father?

A tiny sense of panic ran through him, icing any emotion, as he and Emmet passed one of the burros that roamed St. Valentine. The critters were ancestors of the first burros thatâd been used in the mines, and they were a tourist draw now, a town characteristic just as quirky as the Indian jewelry shop, the Old West trimmings or the mercantile that still made taffy and sold clothing, kitchen goods and souvenirs.

Emmet hung his thumbs in his belt loops while they walked. âConn, Iâm really not comfortable taking the truck and stranding you here.â

âWhy? Thereâs a rental car office in the new part of town up the hill. Thereâre clothes stores, a pharmacy and even a real live doctor, just in case you think Iâll need one.â Heâd brought his meds, too, but he doubted he was going to stay long enough for them to run out.

âMaybe we should both check into rooms.â

âMaybe you should just get back to the ranch. They canât afford to have both of us gone.â

Just as he finished, the words died in the air, because straight up ahead, on the boardwalk, there she was.

Rita, in her old-fashioned hotel uniformâthe blouse and knee-length skirt. Her legs were long, especially in the light black stockings that clung to the curves of her calves. She was shapely all over, not slender, but â¦

His hands skimming her hips â¦ waist â¦ the sides of her breasts â¦

Desire flushed through him like a flood of lava.

Every time he saw her he remembered yet another sensual moment. What else would come to him, though? Enough solid details to get him on his way to the rest of his life?

Emmet sighed, then said, âCall me when youâre done and weâll get that rental car.â

âWill do.â

Rita was heading the other way, her back to him now. As he walked at a steady pace to catch up, his gaze couldnât help but caress her rear end, which was cupped by that modest, yet somehow sexy, black skirt.

It was as if she sensed him before he said a word. Or maybe she just heard his boot steps on the boardwalk.

As she stopped and looked at him, those gray eyes were wide again. Something exploded in his chest as their gazes locked, and his pulse jumped, skipping over the next beat and landing hard on the other side.

Was he wrong, or did it seem as if she was just as rocked?

She started walking again, as if she was either resigned that he would continue to hound her or she was intent on just getting away.

âArenât you gone yet?â she asked, training her eyes straight ahead.

He laughed at her gumption. Somehow, laughter felt natural with her, as if theyâd done a lot of it that night, even if there wasnât much in store now. âI think thereâs more in St. Valentine for me besides sightseeing.â

They were passing her hotel. Outside, where rusted iron benches waited like timeless sentries, a flock of geriatric men and one silver-haired woman wearing an Indian blanket around her shoulders were smoking cigars and watching the world go by. That included Rita and Conn, too, and their gazes followed them, even after Rita nodded a greeting.

Conn thought that she looked a little proud, her chin lifted slightly, as if she was daring someone to say something about her weight gain or â¦

The baby.

Again, his heart raced. He had to ask. It was just a matter of when.

She spoke when they were far enough away from the crowd. âI remember you were just as persistent then as you are now.â

âMy brothers and mom call it âwillfulness.â They say I decide on something and I stick to it.â

âYet you donât remember that about yourself.â

âNo, but it seems to be something I didnât lose in that accident.â

She didnât respond, so he decided he would do more talking. âOne of the first things they said to me when I was recovering is that Iâm a true cowboy, a man whoâs at home on the range more than anyplace else. They say Iâd rather be there than off the ranch in pursuit of a real life.â

âI know what you mean.â

He got the feeling that Rita had heard this about herself, too, except in her life, it was all about the hotel, not a ranch.

Strange that he would think this, though. Had she told him something similar that night?

Was it starting to come back to him now?

He reached inside his head but couldnât recall it. All he could grasp were faraway things like sitting alone on his cabin porch, listening to the night sounds on his swing, enjoying what he had as a bachelor, content with nothing more.

Rita gave him a sidelong glance as they kept walking.

It was now or never.

He took off his hat, holding it in his hands. âI couldnât help but notice â¦â

He motioned toward her stomach, trying to avoid the indelicacy of the words.

Immediately, she placed her palm there, as if protecting herself. Was she going to tell him to go to hell for saying sheâd put on some pounds? Or â¦

Then she began walking again. âDonât worry about it. The baby isnât yours.â

Was that relief sliding through him, from chest to toe?

âI only wanted to make sure,â he said. âI might not know much about myself, but I do know that if it came down to it, I wouldnât have left you in a lurch.â

âA babyâs not a lurch.â

Damn, she was making him work hard. âI didnât mean it that way. Iâm sorry, Rita.â

She stopped walking again, her hands on her hips as she shook her head. âYouâve been sorry a hundred times already.â

âListen, all I want to know isââ

âI know what you want to know and I get the feeling that you wonât be going anywhere until you drag it out of me.â

Did she actually believe him now when he said that he had amnesia?

âSo you just want me to paint you a picture of a memory, is that all?â she said, seemingly giving in. âYou want me to fill in what happened before your accident?â

âIâd be grateful for it.â He held his hat with both hands. âIâve had snippets of memory, where nothing has made much sense. So I thought Iâd come back here, based on a few flashes, to get my past straightened out.â

She smoothed down her skirt, as civil as could be. âThereâs really not much to tell. It started when you strolled into the saloon down the street while I was grabbing dinner.â

A slight glow lit in her eyes before she quickly banished it. Was she thinking of how itâd been, with him walking into the room, latching gazes with her?

A bang-up attraction just like the one he was feeling now?

Was she feeling it, too, but doing her damnedest to tamp it down?

âI was taking a break from doing some repair work in the hotel,â she said. âSo it was going to be a long night. I own the place, along with my brother and sister, but Iâm the one who runs it. And the only time I have to do catch-up work is when the desk isnât very busy. But itâs been that way ever since the Tony Amati story came to the forefront.â

âI heard all about that.â

She crossed her arms over her chest, as if resisting any small talk. âAnyway, you came right over to my table. Charming. Persistent. Long story short, we ended up in bed in one of the empty hotel rooms. And when you left the next morning, you said youâd â¦â

Heâd already guessed what heâd said, and he wondered how many women heâd done it to and if heâd really meant it at the time.

âI told you Iâd be back,â he said.

âYes. You said youâd come back after youâd taken care of your business for the day.â She fingered her collar, as if missing the jewelry she used to wear. âYou took my necklace from my pile of clothing and said you wanted to bring it with you. You were in a playful, good mood. âItâs just some insurance,â you said. âA guarantee Iâll come strolling through the lobby again tonight.ââ

Insurance? A guarantee? Okay, from what he remembered about himself, this didnât sound like him at all.

Had he been toying with her? His brothersâhis best friendsâhad told him that he was a pretty harmless scamp, but it didnât sound like it right now.

Why hadnât he just made it clear to her that their one-night stand was merely that?

A sense of bewilderment rotated within him, as if trying to find a place to stop, to lock in and provide some clarity, but it never did.

âAt any rate,â she said, still cool, âthatâs the gist of it.â

He wanted to ask her just when sheâd stopped expecting him to come back, but he wasnât sure why he was even wondering.

She started walking again, and he knew sheâd said all she was going to say. He knew that heâd done a real number on her, too, whether she showed it or not.

âIâm sorry,â he said again, following her, taking the necklace out of his back pocket and holding it out. âI wish I couldââ

âYou donât have to wish anything.â She ignored the necklace. âActually, itâs good to know the reason you didnât come backânot to say Iâm glad you were in an accident, but â¦â She blew out a breath. âAt least youâre okay.â

He acknowledged that, nodding, then out of pure impulse, took her hand, intending to put the necklace in it. She gasped just as a zing of energy flew up his fingers, his armâ

Holding her â¦ Curves against his palms, sleek, smooth, so beautiful â¦

He came out of it as she pulled her hand away from his and walked off again.

âYou can keep it. Itâs only a bauble.â

But, as he stood there, he got the feeling that this necklaceâand everything that went along with itâno doubt meant a lot more than that to her.

He wanted to apologize again, but by now, apologies were just air. Meaningless.

He caught up with her in a couple of long strides. âIf thereâs anything else you can tell meââ

The words spilled out of her, as if the sooner she said them, the sooner he would leave. âYou said that two out of three of your brothers are happily married. They tease you about being a bachelor until youâd like to punch their lights out. Your momâs a widow, and you think that, more than anyone, she wishes youâd get out more to find someone whoâd make your days âshine all the brighter,â as sheâd say. Thatâs what happened to her and your fatherâtrue, fast love.â

What? âI told you all that?â

âWell, we didnât sleep much, whether it was talking or â¦â She trailed off, as if she regretted how far sheâd gone in this conversation.

But he was swamped by yet another image. Holding her against him as she closed her eyes, pressing kisses to her eyelids, one by one, then the tip of her nose. Watching her in the glow of a soft lamp as she drifted off to sleep. Feeling something unfamiliar twisting inside of him, as if being born â¦

But wasnât he the ultimate cowboy bachelor?

The same twisting sensation ripped through him now, as if daring him to define what it was.

Up ahead, he could hear childrenâs laughter, the clang of a playground, past all the dust-brushed Old West buildings. Rita kept leading him toward it.

âRita,â he said, âwhen I came back here, it was because of you.â

This time, when she slowed down, she almost seemed to stumble before she straightened her posture. âWhat?â

âI had this fragment of a memory â¦â He gentled his tone. âAbout you. It drove me to find you, even if I canât remember exactly why. I keep thinking that if I spend some time with you, itâs going to shake things loose in my head.â

His directness had apparently stunned her, because she kept walking slowly, not looking at him.

But then, she did sneak a glance, her expression even more torn now.

Heâd played his last card with her.

They stopped at a chain-link fence that separated them from swing sets, a teeter-totter and a field where children were playing tag and doing somersaults and cartwheels in front of a woman wearing a floppy camp hat. Next to the field stood a small pastel-colored building with a mural on it. In the mural, children of all sizes and colors laughed, held hands and peered up at a rainbow.

One little girl with dark curls just like Ritaâs spied her, and she jumped up, then waved.

Rita waved back as the girl picked up a bag from the edge of the grass and came running toward a swinging gate in the fence.

âMommy!â she yelled, curls bouncing, skirt flying.

A new flash of memory hit Conn hard.

âKristy. Thatâs my daughterâs name â¦â

He just stood there as the girl came through the gate and hopped into her motherâs arms. Rita buried her face in her daughterâs hair, squeezing her until she pulled away, planting a kiss on the childâs forehead.

Then the girl sucked in a breath. âI forgot!â

She ran back to the field, where her teacher was holding a majoretteâs baton.

Meanwhile, it looked as if Rita was daring Conn to say something about her having a daughter. Looked as if she was wondering if this would be enough to let him know that sheâd never truly expected him to stay for more than one night in the first place.

How had he reacted when she had told him she had a daughter that night? Had he wanted to run?

But then why would he have taken her necklace and promised to come back? Had he been that much of a jerk that he wouldâve led her on just for another night of great sex?

She watched him wade through all these emotions that he couldnât identify, then finally said, âYou remember me telling you about my girl?â

âYeah. I do now.â

âOkay.â She looked straight ahead at her daughter. âThen I canât give you any more than that, Conn.â

The little girl ran out the gate and Rita took her hand, guiding her away before they could even be introduced.

Conn had checked into the Co-Zee Inn in the more modern east side of town, thinking that he didnât want to crowd Rita too much by checking in to her hotel. He was lying in bed, hoping that his brain would catch up to what heâd experienced today.

As soon as he shut his eyes to the faint neon from the âvacancyâ sign bleeding through the green curtains that didnât quite shut all the way, it was as if his mind finally cooperated.

A few memories crept in. In bed, Rita leaning her head in her hand as she propped herself up with an elbow, her curls spilling down. She was looking down at him as he lay there, using his finger to lazily trace the soft, pale inside of her arm. Their skin was drying from the sweat that had beaded on it during their lovemaking.

âI usually donât sleep around like this,â she said. âIâve got responsibilities that I take seriously.â

âLike your hotel,â he said.

She swallowed hard, her gaze widening, as if what she was about to say next would change everything.

âItâs more than that, Conn.â

Heâd risen up on an elbow, too, coming face-to-face with her.

âTell me,â he said.

âKristy. Thatâs my daughterâs name.â

Conn looked into her eyes, expecting that the urge to flee would grab him at any second. Instead, he heard himself saying, âA little girl with your hair and eyes.â

Rita seemed as if she thought the night was about to end right there, but â¦

He leaned toward her, kissed her on the temple, reaching out to slide a hand over her hip â¦

His eyes opened, his heart beating so fast that he had to sit up to find balance.

Dammit, heâd been smitten by Rita in that moment, hadnât he? But, based on what his brothers had told him, Conn probably wouldâve sent the necklace back to her with an endearment-filled note, finding some charming way to ease their parting while never promising to return after that. He wouldâve used his âJedi mind tricks,â as his oldest brother, Bradon, called it, to make her think that one night of happiness was wonderful enough without expecting more from him.

As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet firmly on the shag carpet, he leveled his breathing.

Had he hurt Rita enough to send her into another manâs arms? And had that man gotten her pregnant and left, too?

Or had the old Conn, the furthest thing from ideal father material, made a baby with her and accidentally left anyway?

As he lay back down, the neon light from the window beat like a red heartbeat on the ceiling.

But it also looked like a warning light, advising him to leave well enough alone.

Chapter Three

The next morning, Rita finished putting Kristy in a leotard for âJob Dayâ at the preschool. It was Dress Up Week, and right now, at least, Kristy was dressed as a ballerina, her dream career for when she grew up. Last week itâd been a cowgirl like her aunt Kim, the week before, an astronaut.

She wrangled her daughterâs curls into a bun using a scrunchy. âTomorrow you get to wear a princess costume for Royalty Day.â

âPancake Day comes after.â Kristy was admiring a beaded pink bracelet around her wrist. âWhat do I wear for that?â

âYour cutest pajamas, my dear.â Rita kissed Kristyâs cheek, lingering, loving the sweet smell of her. She still had that little-girl scent, sugar and spice and everything nice, and she hoped it would never go away.

When Conn had walked with her to the preschool yesterday, Rita had at first been reluctant to have him along while she picked up her daughter. But since sheâd told him about Kristy âthat night,â a part of her genuinely wanted to see if he would remember. And if he would get the same look on his face that heâd had after sheâd revealed that she was the mother of a four-year-old.

But that was where sheâd stopped with the honesty. Sheâd also had a total knee-jerk, ultradefensive reaction when heâd asked about her little baby bump; sheâd outright lied to him that the child wasnât his.

Right afterward, sheâd known it wasnât the right thing to do. He was the father. Yet he was also a very scattered man who wouldnât be remotely reliable. He might even be another Kevin, so making Conn think that this was someone elseâs baby seemed to be the safest choice for both of them.

Even so, Rita kept picturing Conn as heâd been in that bed, while he smiled down at her as if the news about her having a daughter already didnât bother him at all.

âA little girl with your hair and eyes,â heâd said before caressing her again, leading her into a place where she could hope and love and forget the past.

Would he be able to show that kind of affection for a surprise baby? Kevin sure hadnât.

Kristy hopped toward her bedroom door. âCan I do the computer now? We brushed my teeth!â

âYou sure can.â Kristy often got sidetracked by everything but getting ready in the morning, so Rita had found that dangling the reward of using the laptop computer was incentive for her to stay focused.

They went to the kitchen table where Rita directed the computer to a kid-friendly page with Barbie games and went to her room to finish her own toilette.

The top floor of the hotel had always been the caretakerâs quarters and, even though the property had been handed down, generation after generation, Ritaâs own family hadnât actually lived in the suite, which was decorated with the same Victorian furniture and antiques that gave the rest of the hotel its Old West feel. Itâd been too small for two parents and three children when she was younger.

But it was just right for her and Kristy and another one on the way. The three of them.

She didnât stop to think about how it mightâve seemed a little more crowded with Kevin, had he stuck around. Or with any other man.

As she got to her bathroom, then pinned back her hair with a barrette, she tried not to think about Conn, but it was impossible not to. What wouldâve happened if he hadnât gotten in that accident? Would he have come back?

How long would he have stayed?

Heart muted, she told herself to stop dwelling on it. Instead, she forced her attention to the task of applying a little blush, then eye shadow, mascara, which she seemed low on, and pink lipstick. Then she stifled a yawn as she went to the personal calendar she kept posted on the refrigerator in the kitchen area. It mainly showed Kristyâs upcoming activities: Job Day, a slumber party tonight with Aunt Kim, Royalty Day, Pancake Day, dance and baton lessons.

All this in addition to her own schedule, which included a doctorâs appointment this week, maid-of-honor duties for Violetâs wedding this weekend, then Thanksgiving next week. She would definitely have to begin working in more time for her and her unborn babyânap time so she wouldnât be stressed, a little light exercise time â¦

Rita thought about the looks sheâd been getting around town recently as she strolled the boardwalk, her tummy just beginning to show. Some glanced at her and smiled. Others had an expression on their faces as if thinking, âShe never learns, does she?â

Another unplanned pregnancy. And the thing was, Rita was such a careful person. Always had been, too.

With Kevin, sheâd been engaged. She hadnât seen him for a while, because heâd needed to relocate near Houston for a job in some natural-gas fields because of the kaolin-mine closure. Sheâd been so young then, so unsuspecting about how life could go wrong, and sheâd thought that she and Kevin would always love each other, that neither of them would ever change.

But heâd grown distant after taking the new job. Itâd been a gradual thing, with him being more withdrawn during his weekend visits, with him complaining more and more about the mine closure and how life wasnât fair. Kevin had never done well with change.

Yet Rita had merely told herself that he would get used to life as she worked her rear off in the hopes of taking time away from the hotel and attending college. She had loved him as she had during high school, when theyâd been sweethearts, and after graduation, when theyâd kept on seeing each other, saving their money for when they would have a family one day.

Then, one night, during a rushed bout of weekend lovemaking, something had happened. Her diaphragm hadnât been inserted as it shouldâve beenâat least, that was the doctorâs guess. Sheâd gotten pregnant before getting married and â¦

Dammit, Rita, weâre not ready for a family.

Now, at the memory of Kevinâs reaction to the news, Rita turned away from the calendar. Why did it all have to come back?

Kevin demanding that she rethink their situation in life. Kevin âsuggestingâ that she âtake careâ of their âmistake.â Her finding out that their life had been a lie all along when he told her he had been seeing another woman in his âother home,â the one he lived in during the week for his job.

Him leaving Rita as an unmarried mother for that other woman.

Blowing out a breath, Rita told herself that sheâd been careful with Conn, tooâat least physically. It was just that, when theyâd used protection, thereâd been one time when the condom had slipped a little after theyâd made love and he was pulling out of her â¦

She rubbed her belly under her work skirt. No matter the circumstances, she was already head over heels for this child. Like Kristy, this baby would be easy to love, to take care of, to hold and kiss and treasure.

Iâll always be here, she thought, softly patting her tummy. But who needs a daddy you canât trust?

She kept telling herself that Conn didnât even know who he was, so what kind of father could he be? As far as she even knew, sheâd gone to bed with a fantasyâthe Conn Flannigan who had seemed just as taken with her as sheâd been with him that night.

That fantasy man didnât exist, though.

Walking down the hall, she heard the sounds from the computer and went over to Kristy, bending down to plant a long kiss on top of her head. âCome on, sweetie. Time to go.â

âOne more minute?â the little girl asked.

âNope. Youâve still got a half hour banked for computer time this week, though, and you can use it later.â

A jaunty knock sounded on the door, and Kristy bounded over to open it. As Rita shut down the computer, Kristy squealed.

âAunt Kim!â

When Rita glanced over she saw her younger sister, dressed in old boots and jeans and a threadbare blue T-shirt. Kim was wearing her dark curly hair in a ponytail, seeming every inch the tomboy of the family. She lifted Kristy up, twirled her around, then set her back down and used her forefinger to tweak the childâs nose.

âWhy, if it isnât Tina Ballerina,â Kim said.

âKristy Ballerina.â

Both Kim and Rita laughed. âThanks for walking her to school,â she said to Kim on the way out the door.

âNo problem. Itâs my day off, anyway, and Nickâs got everything covered.â

Good olâ big bro.

As Rita shut the door, she braced herself for what the day would bring. Would wagging tongues be spreading news about Conn, with the way he was following her around and holding on to that R necklace sheâd always worn, ever since sheâd bought it from the White-feather Jewelry Boutique with her first real paycheck from the hotel?

She hoped heâd finally gone home. At least, part of her did. The other part of her was just plain masochistic, she supposed, because it yearned for him, even after all that had happened.

They all went down the stairs, coming to the lobby, which was empty at this time of the morning.

Except for one person sitting in a velvet-upholstered chair.

Wouldnât you know it, at the sight of Conn, Ritaâs belly spun into a whir of desire and anxiety. His hat was perched on one bent knee as he perused a brochure about tourist sites in Houston. His hair was so thick and tempting that she bunched her fists, wishing she didnât want to touch him so badly. Heâd also taken a razor to his face, which was freshly shaven, emphasizing a strong jaw and cleft chin.

She shivered, thinking of how heâd held her, how heâd been inside of her. How heâd looked down at her as the dawn had rolled through the crack in the curtains. Sheâd never seen a look like that before, not even from Kevin, and itâd seemed so real.

Real enough to make her believe that he would stay forever.

He glanced up from his reading, as if he had Rita Radar. âMorning,â he said ever so casually.

Rita was desperate to make it seem as if he were just another customer. âMorning.â

Kristy wasnât fooled, though. By the way she was pressing against her aunt Kimâs leg, checking Conn out, she recognized him from yesterday.

Rita kissed her daughter goodbye, then thanked Kim again. There werenât any employees coming in to cover the front desk this morning, so it was up to Rita to do it.

âSo weâll see you tomorrow,â Kim said, heading for the exit with Kristy in tow. Then to Kristy, âWeâre going to have fun at our slumber party tonight.â

âYeah!â Kristy said.

Since Kristy visited Kim frequently, there was no need for packing this morningâKristy had a drawer of clothing, plus a toothbrush, over at her auntâs cabin.

Rita went over and gave Kristy an extra-big kiss. âCall me tonight?â

âOkay, Mommy.â

âWeâll check in before we have our Caillou marathon.â Kim gave Conn a curious glance before ushering Kristy to the door.

As for Kristy, she just kept checking out the cowboy.

When they left, the room seemed way too quiet. Rita thought about turning on the radio, until Conn got out of his seat and ambled over to the desk.

âI want to thank you for yesterday,â he said. âIt helped.â

âGood to hear.â

Her pulse jittered. The last thing she needed was for all her hot-blooded, ill-thought-out feelings to come bursting up right now.

Good thing his next words put a stop to them. âI keep remembering bits and pieces about that night but â¦ There are things that go along with them that Iâm not really understanding, Rita.â

Oh, the sound of her name. He had a way of saying it, deep and low. Of owning it, somehow.

But sheâd already come to the conclusion during the four months heâd been gone that sheâd never be ownedânot by another man, not by the anguish sheâd managed to tame.

She decided to duck any deeper conversation. It was safer that way. âSo your memoryâs been jarred?â

âSomewhat.â His brow furrowed, as if he were on the edge of saying or thinking something that wasnât quite gelling for him. âI could really use more of your help, though. You seem to be some kind of key for me.â He added that devastating smile that had gotten her into bed in the first place. âWhat do you say?â

That smile tugged at her so hard that she had to grip the counter.

He added, âThereâd even be a good dinner it in for you after you finish with work.â

âThen youâll go home?â

He laughed. âI made arrangements this morning to take some time off from the ranch, so Iâm not in any hurry. But I swear I wonât bother you anymore after this. Iâd just like to wander around town, see if thereâs anything else here thatâll tweak my brain.â

âGoody.â

He ignored her sarcasm. âDonât tell me youâre not free tonight, Rita. I was sitting right here when your sister said sheâd be having a slumber party with Kristy.â

Shoot. Kim had mentioned the aunt/niece outing right in front of him. But there were a million other excuses to get out of thisâlike her final dress fitting for Viâs wedding early tomorrow, for one. Resting her tired feet, for another.

Yet â¦ She touched her belly. A baby. His baby. Maybe she owed him or her one dinner with the father, just for some closure and a chance to tell him the truthâif she could bring herself to do it.

She gripped the counter even tighter with her free hand. Thing was, she didnât trust herself around this man. Whenever he was within range, her blood heated, her heart twirled, her body urged her to do things she shouldnât even be dreaming of repeating with him.

Ground rules. Maybe she should just make some for him and for her.

âIf we had dinner tonight,â she said, âit wouldnât be anything â¦â

âRomantic?â He nodded. âI understand.â

She couldnât decipher his expression, but the sinking sensation in her chest was real easy to read. Had she actually expected him to beg her to take up where theyâd left off? He had to be just as wary of coming back to face her as she was to see him, and just because he was here didnât mean he â¦

Well, that he remembered that night and the connection sheâd thought they had, even just after several hours together.

He backed away from the counter, seemingly satisfied now. While putting his hat back on, he said, âWhat timeâs good for you?â

Itâd been a long while since sheâd gotten ready to go out socially after work, so she calculated quickly. âSix?â

âSix it is.â

âThereâs a good fish shack by Dempsy Lake, south of town. The Levee, they call it.â It was very public, although a little bit off the beaten track in St. Valentine itself, and usually populated by families during the afternoons sheâd been there.

âSounds good.â He sent her that grin again.

As he tipped his hat to her and went out the doorway, she held her breath.

And, for the rest of the day, it felt as if she never let it go.

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