When Zane’s lips came down on hers tonight, they weren’t gentle or light or just a brush.

Oh, no. Tonight they were hungry, searching for desire to be fulfilled.

Jeannette’s body reacted as if she’d been born to respond to Zane. She enfolded her arms around his neck, and he pulled her in tighter. His tongue slid into her mouth and her gasp of pleasure opened her up more completely to him. She felt as if a low-burning fire inside of her burst into flame.

She couldn’t get enough of his mouth on hers, his tongue retreating, then urging her on. Pressed against him, she longed for a satisfaction she had long ago forgotten.

When he withdrew and pulled away, they were both breathing hard. She was still trying to catch her breath when he said, “That was Zane the man who kissed you, not Zane Gunther the country singer.”

Dear Reader,

I love country music. Its deep emotion and sheer joy touch me whenever I listen to it. It’s storytelling at its finest. I’ve always wanted to write about a hero who is a country singer, and in this continuity series I was offered that chance. I created Zane Gunther in a previous MONTANA MAVERICKS book, falling in love with him even then. Now, as a hero, he’s entirely captured my heart.

Sometimes we live our lives thinking we’re on the right track, just involved in the day-to-day process. Then a tragedy strikes and we find out what we’re really made of. That’s what happened to Zane. For a while, he’s uncertain what course to take and almost becomes a hermit! But then a resilient single mom intrigues him and he finds being alone can be downright lonely. Jeannette and her son give Zane’s life meaning he’s never found before. But can she accept his lifestyle? Can he really consider becoming a husband and a dad?

I hope you fall under the spell of this romance the same way you would a great country song! Visit me at my website at www.karenrosesmith.com or follow me on Facebook.

All my best,

Karen Rose Smith

About the Author

KAREN ROSE SMITH is an award-winning and bestselling author who writes about friends and family. Music has always played a huge part in her life, from her crush on the Beatles to her endeavor to write a script for the Monkees TV show with her cousin. Her love of country music developed after she began writing. She found listening to it enhanced her creativity when developing cowboys! Living in Pennsylvania with her husband and two cats, music enriches her life along with gardening and cooking. Readers can follow her on Facebook, visit with her on her website at www.karenrosesmith.com or write to her at PO Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331, USA.

His Country
Cinderella
Karen Rose Smith

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my bff Suzanne, who shares my love of country music and is always there to listen and support.

Chapter One

Jeannette Williams hurriedly pushed the vacuum cleaner into the closet and closed the door, then nervously tightened the band on her ponytail. She was frazzled. More frazzled than when she had to run after her four-and-a-half-year-old son. If she didn’t finish her duties at this mountaintop log home by four o’clock, she could get fired.

In the kitchen she seemed to be all thumbs as she poured expensive ground coffee into a canister. Suddenly her fingers slipped on the glossy bag and the grounds spilled over the counter and onto the floor.

Jeannette was used to rolling with the punches and picking up the pieces. She’d had to do that after her fiancé died before Jonah was born. But today, knowing she still had an evening’s worth of work in a restaurant she didn’t like, she almost felt defeated. Still, defeat wasn’t in her vocabulary. Jonah was her focus.

She hurried to the closet, found a dustpan and brush and fell to her knees in the kitchen, cleaning up the ceramic-tiled floor.

When she heard a noise outside, she glanced up at the kitchen door the moment it opened. A tall man with a black Stetson stood in the doorway, looking as startled to see her as she was to see him. His jaw was covered with what looked like a week’s worth of beard stubble. His cheeks were gaunt. His chambray shirt was tucked into blue jeans, but the sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms. His brown boots were dusty. For an eternal moment she gazed into his green eyes. He looked so…sad. A second later she thought she must be mistaken because they were snapping with impatience and annoyance.

Her words came out in a rush. “I’m sorry I’m still here. I’ll be gone in a few minutes. I was a little late getting here and I was just ready to leave when the coffee spilled—”

“Just leave,” he said gruffly.

“Really,” she insisted, “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“Go on,” he commanded. “I’ll do it myself.”

She knew from her instructions that he valued his privacy, that he was a solitary man who didn’t want to be disturbed. Tears came to her eyes as she blinked fast to keep them from falling. Wouldn’t that just be altogether humiliating? She didn’t even cry at the lewd comments some of the customers made at LipSmackin’ Ribs. But this man’s sadness, demeanor and penetrating gaze shook her. Still…although he was obviously angry with her, there was something in his bearing, something underlying the gruffness in his voice, something in those green eyes that…appealed to her. She was going crazy, she knew she was. A tear did slip from her eye and rolled down her cheek.

Her mountain man, obviously seeing her distress, blew out a breath, closed the door and came over to where she knelt. He was over six feet, so broad-shouldered, so…virile.

A little tremor ran through her and she wasn’t exactly sure where it came from. He was studying her as if he was trying to figure out something.

Then he crouched down beside her. “I’ll help you clean up the mess.”

That she hadn’t expected. But as she’d learned long ago, both the good things and the troubling things in life were usually unexpected. For a few moments, silence trembled between them as she used the brush, and he slid one very large hand with long, tapered fingers across the rust-colored tile, pushing coffee grounds into the dustpan.

She had to make another stab at saving her job. “I need this job. I have a son. I’ll buy more coffee.” In her effort to explain again, she peeked at his profile. It seemed a tad familiar, though it really couldn’t be—

His hand brushed hers. She felt the tingle of contact to the tip of her ponytail.

Suddenly she was looking into those green eyes once more and falling…falling…falling. “Sorry,” she murmured again, feeling like a total idiot. When was the last time she’d been this clumsy? This scattered? This…attracted to a man?

She shook her head as if to clear it, remembering Ed and the accident and all her fiancé had tried to do for them. Maybe trying to juggle two jobs was affecting her the same way it had affected him.

“I didn’t pick up the tip you left.” She swallowed hard. “I won’t take it. If you have extra things you’d like me to do next time, just leave a list.” She knew she sounded frantic and breathless, but she was. She wished he’d say something. Before she thought better of it, she clasped his forearm. “I really need this job.”

His skin was tanned and hot and taut. And she could feel the brown hairs under her fingertips. Heavens, she was losing it!

She released his arm and just as she thought he was never going to speak to her, he finally said, “It’s okay. Accidents happen. I should have checked the drive for your car when I got back from hiking, but you’ve always cleared out before I returned.”

That’s the way he wanted it. She could tell.

“This won’t happen again,” she promised.

With most of the coffee in the dustpan now, he took the brush and pan from her hands and stood with it. He strode to the closet, opened it and poured the coffee into the trash can inside.

Then he dusted off his hands and turned to face her. “We’ll forget all this happened. It’ll be our secret—under one condition.”

Jeannette rose to her feet and had to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. His one condition made her wary. Just what did he expect in return? As hunky as he was, she was not about to—

A half smile tilted the man’s lips, as if he could read her mind. “Just don’t tell anyone you saw me here.”

Relief flooded Jeannette. Yet maybe there was just a little disappointment mixed in. In that moment he’d mentioned a condition, she’d imagined his strong arms around her! But checking his expression again, she could see he was serious.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she vowed.

Tilting his head, he held out a hand to her to seal the deal. She took it and was immediately affected by her proximity to him, the fall-air, man-smell of him, the skin contact that had already shaken her before. His grip was firm, though the press of his fingers was gentle. Her breath caught. Her heart raced. For propriety’s sake, she pulled away.

Altogether flustered now, she gestured to the floor. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wash it up?”

“I’m sure.”

Although for a few minutes she’d felt a connection to him, now he wanted her gone. She could do “gone” if it meant holding on to her job. Quickly she snatched her keys and purse from the counter.

But the tall, well-built man’s voice stopped her. “What’s your name?”

“Jeannette. Jeannette Williams.”

“You forgot something, Jeannette.” He handed her the bill that had been tucked under the coffee canister.

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Sure, you do. A little spilled coffee doesn’t wipe out all your cleaning sessions and grocery buying that have made my life easier.”

She thought of Jonah and the apartment they’d moved into a few months ago. She thought of the bills stacked on her table, and she took the money from this enigmatic man’s hand.

Then she fled his house, wondering if he ever used the silver SUV in his garage…wondering how he could stay on that mountain alone.

She considered her son again, and her job at Lip-Smackin’ Ribs. She’d do whatever she had to do for Jonah, no matter how hard it was.

As she drove down the deserted, bumpy, unpaved road hoping she didn’t get a flat tire, she remembered her mountain man’s fleeting smile. Her heart beat faster all over again.

After Jeannette Williams left, Zane Gunther felt as if he’d just stepped into a whirlwind. Not only had she unsettled him and maybe blown his cover, but he was aroused!

Swiping off his Stetson, he plopped it on the hat rack on the wall in the well-equipped country kitchen and ran his hand down over his face. He knew he was a changed man after what had happened in April. He couldn’t write music anymore, let alone sing.

He went into the living room and stared up at the loft—the loft where his guitar was propped against a desk. He didn’t even know why he’d brought it here.

How could he write songs when a thirteen-year-old had died after one of his concerts? How could he write songs when the tabloids and even the legitimate press were painting him as a celebrity who didn’t care about ordinary people? When even his mother was being affected by the publicity? When everything around him seemed to be in shambles?

There was a rap at his front door and he swiveled toward it, wondering if his cleaning lady had forgotten something. She’d been pretty. That silky blond hair, those cornflower-blue eyes and a figure right out of a man’s fantasies. Certainly she’d known who he was, hadn’t she? Would she keep her promise?

He went to the living room and opened the door, not knowing whether to be disappointed or relieved when he stood aside to let his guest in. Up until today, Dillon Traub had been his only visitor.

“Who was that leaving?” Dillon asked, going straight to the kitchen and setting containers of Chinese food on the table.

“You passed her?”

“Her?” Dillon asked with a raised brow.

“She’s my cleaning lady. When I came back from my hike, she was still here.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, well, we sort of made a deal. She said she won’t tell anyone.”

“And what are you giving her in return?” Dillon’s voice was wary.

Dillon had moved to Thunder Canyon last year and was now happily married with an almost-three-year-old daughter. He and Zane went way back to grade school in Midland, Texas. They knew each other well, well enough that they didn’t sugarcoat the truth.

“She was cleaning up a mess in my kitchen when I walked in, and she was afraid she’d lose her job. So I told her I wouldn’t say anything to the cleaning service about the mess and her being late if she kept my secret. I think she’s the type who might.”

“How long did you talk to her?”

“About ten minutes, and we really didn’t do much talking. Mostly just cleaned up coffee.”

Dillon started opening the cardboard containers, but appeared even more suspicious than before. “So, what? You got a vibe off her or something? How old is she?”

“I’m not great with age, but I’d say probably late twenties. And yes, I did get a vibe.”

Dillon met Zane’s gaze and his lips quirked up. “Well!”

“Well, what?” Zane growled.

“Well, maybe you’re coming back to life. Maybe you’re seeing you can’t live on this mountaintop forever. You’ve been here four months, Zane. You see no one but me and Erika. You don’t even have a phone here so you can talk to your mom and your lawyer or your manager or band without going through me. By the way, your mom said you don’t call enough.”

Zane rolled his eyes to heaven. “You know I have my cell phone and I get a signal when I drive down the mountain. I call Mom once a week to check in. Are you getting tired of taking messages?”

Opening a drawer, Dillon found a serving spoon and stuffed it into what looked like chicken lo mein. “No, that’s not it, and you know it. Erika and I understand why you need time and silence. Why you have to live in secret because the paparazzi are chasing you. We get it. But at some point, you’re going to have to jump back into the world and deal with all of it.”

Zane glanced up at the loft again. “Not now.” However, he was thinking, Maybe not ever.

Grabbing forks from another drawer, Dillon faced his friend. “So what color were her eyes?”

Jeannette emerged from Mops and Brooms Cleaning Services office the following morning, Jonah’s little hand in hers. She stared almost uncomprehendingly at the traffic cruising up and down Oak Avenue. She’d just been fired! They’d given her a lame excuse, but she knew the truth.

Her son tugged on her hand as she focused on him. His brown hair always looked mussed, but his blue eyes, the same shade as hers, sparkled with a child’s innocence and curiosity. “Are we gonna go to my open house now?”

Jeannette had worked out her schedule today so she could take Jonah to his preschool open house this morning, drop him off at Edna and Mel Lambert’s—Ed’s parents insisted they didn’t mind babysitting while she worked—and arrive at LipSmackin’ Ribs for Friday’s eleven-to-four shift. She had to rotate with the other waitresses for those premium weekend night shifts, so she wouldn’t be working tonight. Filling in cleaning assignments around her shifts had been fairly easy, but now she wouldn’t have cleaning assignments. How was she going to pay for Jonah’s tuition for preschool?

She swallowed hard as she gazed into Jonah’s eyes. “Yes, we’re going to your open house. Are you ready?”

He jumped up and down. “Let’s go.”

Jeannette couldn’t believe her “mountain man” had complained about her. Not after the deal they’d made. She still remembered the feel of his strong fingers around hers, the outdoor, male scent of him, the soberness in his eyes.

She should have known better than to trust a stranger. Now she’d have to look for another job to fit with her schedule at LipSmackin’ Ribs. That wouldn’t be easy.

She was walking down Oak Avenue with Jonah when she spotted a silver SUV pull up to the curbside parking meter. That SUV looked just like the one that had been in the log house’s garage—

She couldn’t believe her eyes when the acerbic stranger himself climbed out of the vehicle! As he rounded his SUV, he was heading straight for the Mops and Brooms office.

His Stetson brim was pulled low and today he wore sunglasses. What was he doing here? Hadn’t he done enough damage?

When he saw her, he stopped short. A trace of a smile turned up the corners of his lips. “Well, hello. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“No, I suppose not,” she returned frostily. She couldn’t see his eyes today, just her own reflection in his mirrored sunglasses.

“A little cold out this morning,” he joked and she could see he was obviously trying to lighten her mood. Why would he be doing that? Wouldn’t he have known what had just happened to her?

“Is this your son?” he asked, even as his eyes dropped to her hand, checking for a wedding ring. He saw none there. She’d never had the chance to wear one.

“I’m Jonah,” the little boy piped up, and Jeannette almost wanted to groan. He was too friendly. She’d talked to him about strangers more than once, but it obviously hadn’t gotten through.

“Jonah’s a great name. Where are you off to? That backpack looks new.”

Proudly, Jonah swiveled around so the man could get a better view.

“SpongeBob. All right. I guess you’re headed off to school.”

“Open house,” Jonah told him. “I’m gonna meet my teacher and other kids, too. Mommy says I have to sit still. I don’t think I’m gonna like that. But she says we’re gonna draw and make things and dance and jump around. So it might be okay.”

The mountain man had to laugh at Jonah’s unfettered enthusiasm. Jeannette wanted to bundle up her son and hurry him off to her car. But he really didn’t see many people, other than her, Edna and Mel.

“If you’re going to preschool, I’ll bet you’re about…four,” the man guessed.

“I’m four-and-a-half,” Jonah informed him. “My birthday’s in Febwary. Mommy says I was her Val-en-tine’s Day present.”

Jeannette could see the man was finding it hard not to laugh again. She just wanted to be on their way, even though she still felt that darn tug of attraction toward him. How could she when he’d gotten her fired? And yet he was acting so natural.

“We’ve got to be going,” she said stiffly.

But he didn’t move to the side to let them pass. After a moment of studying her, he said, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I overreacted when I first came in. I should have never been so…gruff.”

He was apologizing for acting rude when he’d gotten her fired? Somehow that didn’t make sense.

Jonah wasn’t getting the man’s attention anymore and he didn’t like that, so he tugged on his sleeve. “Mommy and I got up early this morning to come here. But she got fired.” He looked up at Jeannette. “But we didn’t have to call the firemen or anything.”

The man in front of her suddenly went still. He flipped off his sunglasses and hung them on his shirt pocket. “So that’s why you’re acting like this,” he mused. “You think I complained to the cleaning service.”

She wasn’t sure what was going on and her voice wasn’t quite steady when she asked, “Didn’t you?”

“No. I was coming here this morning to try to get you a raise—to compliment everything you’d done for me. I made a promise yesterday, remember?”

“Sometimes promises don’t mean all that much.” She remembered all the times Ed had told her they’d get married, but then he’d kept putting it off.

“I stand by my promises. What happened?”

“Well, if you didn’t do it…” She paused. “The manager said business is slow and it was just a case of last hired, first fired. So I guess maybe that was true.”

“I imagine not as many people are using cleaning services these days. It’s still hard times for a lot of folks. If you’d like, maybe I can get you reinstated.”

“How is that possible?”

His green eyes were probing as they assessed her, and she had no idea what he was looking for.

Out of the conversation now, Jonah was getting bored. “Can we go? You can come, too.”

She crouched down to her son. “Oh, no, Jonah, I’m sure he can’t.”

“I hope you learn everything you need to know at your open house,” he said to her son, then his gaze fell on her again. “Would you like to go to lunch and talk about this some more?” He motioned to Mops and Brooms. “Your job?”

She stood. “Oh, I can’t go to lunch. I start my other job at eleven, waiting tables at LipSmackin’ Ribs.”

The sexy stranger scowled and she wondered if he looked down on that kind of work. She’d been everything from a dog groomer to an assistant in a hair salon and said defensively, “It pays the bills.”

“I always stick my foot in it with you, don’t I?” He shook his head. “I’m a friend of Dillon Traub. His cousin, DJ, owns the Rib Shack. He’s not pleased about the new competition, and I’m not all that impressed with the atmosphere at LipSmackin’ Ribs. But that has nothing to do with you. Why don’t I meet you when your shift ends?”

“I have to pick up Jonah at his babysitter’s.”

“Coffee break?” he teased.

When this man smiled, she felt something like hot butter running through her veins. She was amazed at his persistence. It had been about seven years since Ed had asked her on their first date. Since her fiancé’s accident, she hadn’t even thought about seeing another man.

But this one—

“You can even call Dillon for a reference if you need one.” He took out his wallet, found a business card and handed it to her.

Jeannette glanced at it. Dr. Dillon Traub. She’d heard gossip in the restaurant about the doctor who was an heir to an oil fortune. There were two numbers. She was resisting this invitation because her good sense was telling her that she should. Besides, she didn’t feel comfortable having to ask Ed’s parents to watch Jonah so she could go on a date. Still…She’d heard Dr. Traub had opened a clinic in downtown Thunder Canyon. He was more than a reputable citizen, even though she wasn’t sure about his brother Jackson. Other rumors that had made the rounds had said he’d caused a scene at his brother Corey’s wedding in June.

“I don’t even know your name,” she said with another glance at Dillon’s card.

When this stranger who wanted to date her didn’t respond, she lifted her eyes to his. He canvassed her expression, then answered, “My name is Zane.”

“Just Zane?” she asked.

Again he gave her a probing look. “Just Zane. For now.”

One thing she usually wasn’t was impulsive. How could she be with a son to think about? But right now, losing her job, not knowing what was on the horizon, she felt a little reckless. Not reckless enough to be alone with this man, though.

“Why don’t you come for dinner tonight at my apartment? Jonah can be our chaperone.” She thought that might put him off. She thought he might make an excuse, back out, run the other way. But she was sadly mistaken if she thought that’s what he was going to do.

He considered her suggestion long enough to make her think he might refuse. Finally he said, “I don’t want you to have to do the work, so I’ll bring the food. Okay?”

What man brought food when he was invited over? And what had she just done?

Jonah started jumping up and down again, proving he’d been listening to the conversation. “You’re gonna come to our place. Mom says my toys are everywhere.”

Zane shook his head and suppressed a grin. “When I come over, you can show me some of those toys.” His gaze fell on Jeannette then and she couldn’t seem to look away.

This stranger was coming to dinner at her apartment. Was she crazy?

“Second thoughts?” he asked, seeming to read her mind as his grin faded. He took his cell phone from the holster on his belt and handed it to her. “Go ahead and call Dillon’s cell. He doesn’t start seeing patients until nine.”

She studied Zane’s phone, which was a pay-as-you-go model. She’d thought about purchasing one of those. Before she changed her mind, she jabbed in the number. Obviously Zane wanted her to do it herself to prove he wasn’t scamming her.

Her call was answered on the second ring. “Hi, Zane. Did you—?”

“It’s not Zane,” she explained quickly. “My name is Jeannette Williams and Zane gave me your name as a reference. We’re going to have dinner. I guess I want to know…Well, I have a son and—”

There was a short silence, then the doctor’s voice telling her, “I’ll definitely vouch for Zane. We’ve known each other since we were little. He’s a good friend and always there when I need him. And he likes kids.”

When she was silent, he asked, “Is there anything else you need to know?”

Everything, she thought. But then she said, “No, that’s all for now.”

“If you need to call again, you have my number.”

Jeannette ended the call and turned to Zane. “Not as many second thoughts,” she admitted with a smile. She gave him her address. “Is seven okay?”

“Seven is fine.”

When she handed him his phone, their fingers brushed and she quickly pulled away, tingling from a current she didn’t understand.

She had a date tonight with a stranger with no last name but good references.

What was she thinking?

Chapter Two

Zane found himself actually jittery as he stood in front of Jeannette Williams’s apartment door. She lived on the second floor of a complex with a stairway leading up to her place. Unsure why it was so important for Jeannette to think well of him, Zane rang the bell.

She didn’t know who he was so he had a clean slate. That meant so much right now. The press had taken the story of Ashley Tuller’s fall, coma and death and run with it. Before coming to Montana, friends had invited Zane to have supper with them. They’d been trying to be supportive and he’d gone. But he’d left early because he just couldn’t eat or make conversation. The tabloids, however, had snapped a photo of him leaving while his friends waved goodbye. The caption had read, COUNTRY SINGER PARTIES WHILE FAMILY MOURNS. They’d used other false headlines and older photos, too, until he’d had to escape all of it.

But now—

When Jeannette opened her door, Zane felt as if he’d been sucker punched. The first time he’d seen her she’d been wearing a yellow T-shirt and jeans, her hair in a ponytail. Earlier, she’d worn those same jeans and a crisp, white Oxford shirt. Tonight, however…she was wearing an above-the-knees khaki skirt with a silky red blouse. Her blond hair was long, loose and wavy. He felt an excited thump in his chest as his blood rushed faster. Whoa, he’d have to put a lid on that. After all, a four-and-a-half-year-old was going to be their chaperone.

“Hi,” he said, knowing that wasn’t a foray into great conversational territory.

Nevertheless, she smiled back. “Hi. Come on in.”

He was carrying a bag of takeout from DJ’s and he stepped into her small kitchen, setting it all on the table. Glancing around, he saw that the room was charming, with its yellowand green-flowered café curtains, matching mixer cover and placemats. The appliances weren’t new, but everything looked spotless, from the off-white countertop to the pale green tiled floor. “This is nice.”

“It’s small, but we like it.”

They gazed at each other for a few seconds, a buzz of electricity shimmering back and forth between them. He motioned to the packages on the table. “I brought ribs from DJ’s so you can taste the real deal.”

“You want me to judge which is better?”

“I have no doubt which is better.”

She laughed—a sweet sound that pleased his ears as much as music did.

Taking off his sunglasses, he hooked them in his shirt pocket, half expecting her to recognize him. But she turned away and went to the refrigerator, taking out a pitcher of iced tea.

Jonah ran into the kitchen and skidded to a stop beside him. “I put my toys away. Mommy said I had to.”

“I didn’t want you to trip over something,” Jeannette explained with another one of those smiles that made him wonder if this was a good idea. Every time they looked at each other the room shook a little.

“Can we eat? Somethin’ smells good,” Jonah decided with a child’s propensity for getting to the bottom line.

Zane laughed. “We’ve got barbecued ribs, mashed potatoes, a fine helping of green beans because you do need something healthy, corn bread and a fresh-baked apple pie.”

“Wow!” Jonah said, impressed, his eyes big.

“Wow!” Jeannette agreed. “You really went all out.”

“That’s easy at DJ’s.” He’d seen the ads for LipSmackin’ Ribs with the manager, Woody Paulson, pointing to their offerings. Zane didn’t think they could compare to DJ’s food.

Going to the cupboard, Jeannette pulled out a few serving dishes to go with the place settings already on the table. “Sweet tea okay? Or would you rather have a beer?”

“Tea,” Zane said, knowing he needed to keep a clear head tonight.

Jonah headed for the arch leading to the living room. “I’m gonna wash my hands.”

“Good boy,” Jeannette complimented him.

Alone again, Zane asked, “So what did Dillon tell you about me when you called him? I mean, you gave me your address, so I must have passed the test.”

She gave him a sly smile. “The verdict’s still out.”

He thought about the civil trial he was facing, and the verdict that might come in that could change lots of people’s lives.

His expression must have gone all serious because Jeannette assured him, “Hey, I’m kidding. Sort of. I’ll make my own opinion about you.”

He took a step closer to her. “That’s the way it should be.”

He was still wearing his hat. Jeannette seemed to be staring at his mouth. He’d thought about shaving, but had decided against it. Before the past few months, he’d always had a neat, clean-cut persona—short hair and no beard. But now he really was another person, and he was becoming more comfortable with that person each day.

He noticed the pulse in the hollow of Jeannette’s neck was beating fast. It seemed to match the tempo of his. She picked up the pitcher to pour the tea. “Dr. Traub said he could vouch for your character, that he’d known you since you were both kids. He said you were still a good friend and always there when he needed you and that you liked children.”

Zane had always been grateful for Dillon’s friendship, never more so than now. “That’s a lot to live up to.”

“From the way it sounds, you already have. I know Dr. Traub is from Texas. I hear bits of conversation at the restaurant. You both have a Texas drawl.”

“Dillon and I are from Midland.”

“You’re a long way from home.”

“Yes, I am.” He realized she wanted more, but he didn’t know if he was ready to give it right now.

“What about you? Where did you grow up?”

“In Bozeman.”

Bozeman was about a half hour east of Thunder Canyon. Truth be told, he was more interested in other things about her than where she grew up. “I don’t know a tactful way to ask this, so I’m going to just ask. Is Jonah’s father involved in his life?” His gaze dropped again to her hand that was devoid of a wedding ring.

“Jonah’s father died before he was born.”

“I’m sorry.” Zane saw her swallow hard and take a breath. Obviously she’d loved the man a lot.

Before Zane could say anything else, Jonah scrambled back through the doorway and up onto a chair. “I’m ready,” he announced.

“So are we,” Jeannette singsonged back, recovering from whatever turmoil Zane’s question had caused. Already he could tell she was a good mom. Whenever he’d dated before, he hadn’t even thought of something like that. Of course he’d never dated anyone who had kids. And he wasn’t dating Jeannette, either. He was just—Having a meal with her…and her son.

The small table hardly fit the three of them. Zane’s long legs seemed to extend to the other side. As tall as he was, he couldn’t move without his elbow brushing Jeannette’s, or shift his legs without bumping Jonah’s knees. The little boy laughed when it happened. Zane made a game of it and Jonah giggled every time he did. With barbecue sauce smeared all over his face, on his fingers and on the spoon he used to scoop mashed potatoes into his mouth, he looked like he was having a great experience.

Zane wiped his fingers on a napkin as Jeannette ate another forkful of her dinner. “So, what do you think about the ribs?”

She seemed to consider his question with the importance he wanted her to give it. But then she shrugged. “They’re great, but the sauce tastes like the sauce we use at LipSmackin’ Ribs. I do have to admit the corn bread is wonderful and not something I should consider eating on a daily basis or my clothes won’t fit.”

Zane let his gaze run over her and there was male appreciation in his voice when he commented, “You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Her face turned a pretty color of pink and he wondered if she didn’t get many compliments. She had a smudge of barbecue sauce on her upper lip and without thinking about it he leaned forward and wiped it away with his thumb. He hadn’t realized this simple gesture could have such an impact.

They both stilled as his finger lingered on her skin. She didn’t pull away, and he realized from the radar he’d perfected over the years that she was affected, too, by whatever this attraction was between them. It wasn’t one-sided. That pleased him a great deal. Yet it was too soon for him to touch her, or kiss her or anything like that. Jeannette had a son. Zane’s life was so chaotic no woman would ever want to set foot in it.

He pulled his hand away from her reluctantly, and then took his napkin and said to Jonah, “I think you’re going to have a permanent barbecue mustache if I don’t get some of this off.” He wiped the barbecue sauce from around Jonah’s mouth and set the napkin on the table. “Your fingers are going to need soap and water.”

“Gran tells me to use lots of soap,” Jonah informed Zane.

He glanced at Jeannette and she explained, “Jonah stays with his dad’s parents while I work. Ed and I weren’t married, but they’ve become like parents to me.”

Zane considered Jeannette’s expression. It was watchful as if being a mother and not married would elicit some kind of judgment from him. He wasn’t in a position to judge anyone.

“I’m full,” Jonah suddenly announced.

“No apple pie?” his mother asked.

“Not now,” he said as he scooted off his chair. “Can Zane play a game with me?”

Jeannette glanced at Zane. “You’ll have to check with him.”

“Sure, we can play a game. But you’ll have to teach me whatever it is.”

“We could have pie and coffee after he goes to bed,” Jeannette suggested.

“Sounds good.”

Two hours later in Jonah’s bedroom, Jeannette finished buttoning Jonah’s pajama top, well aware Zane was seated in her living room, TV turned off, as he paged through a photo album with baby pictures of Jonah. Tall and muscled, he almost looked out of place on her mauve-and-green plaid sofa. She’d told him he could watch TV if he wanted to, but he’d just shrugged and said he’d rather page through the photo album.

“Mommy, can I give Zane a good-night hug?”

A lump came to her throat. “You’ll have to ask him if it’s okay.”

“I will. I like Zane.”

It was obvious that Jonah did. Zane had played with him as if they’d been buddies for a while. Mel and Edna were great with Jonah, and she appreciated everything they did for him. But they were overprotective at times. Mel didn’t play with him in the yard, just watched Jonah as he played by himself. There weren’t children in Edna and Mel’s neighborhood, and that’s one of the reasons Jeannette had wanted to enroll him in preschool. Zane, however, had played with Jonah as if he was used to being with kids, and Jonah had taken to him, lapping up the attention like a new puppy.

As Jonah ran down the hall into the living room—he never walked anywhere—Jeannette followed him. He went over to Zane and asked, “Can I give you a hug?”

Zane didn’t hesitate. He enveloped her son in a bear hug and squeezed tight until Jonah giggled. “You sleep good tonight, cowboy.”

“I will,” Jonah said as he waved to Zane, then walked with Jeannette to his bedroom.

She tucked him in and kissed his forehead, seeing that his eyelids were already drooping with sleep. “I love you, Jonah. I’ll see you in the morning.”

When she kissed his cheek, he mumbled, “’Night, Mommy.”

As she returned to the living room, she heard Zane in the kitchen and realized he was on the phone. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really she didn’t, but she heard her name mentioned, so she listened. “I understand why you fired her,” he was saying. “But I’m telling you if you keep her on, I’ll pay her salary.”

She was thunderstruck. He would do what? She walked into the kitchen straight-backed and square-shouldered.

Zane didn’t hide what he was doing. He didn’t put down the phone. “Yes, I’m sure about it. I’ll let you settle the details with her. I’m sure Jeannette will be speaking with you. You have a good night, too.”

Jeannette didn’t know what to say or how to say it, so she asked, “Why would you possibly do that? How could you possibly do that?”

“It’s easy. I had looked up the owner’s number on my laptop this afternoon. So I just made her an offer that was hard to refuse. You’re reinstated. You have your job back.”

“No, I don’t. You will not pay my salary. I’ll find a job and I’ll get it on my own.”

He stood very close to her, close enough to kiss. Where did that thought come from?

“Did anyone ever tell you that maybe you have too much pride?” he asked, almost rhetorically.

“Didn’t a woman ever tell you she might want to live her life on her own terms?”

He seemed to wince at that, but then he shook his head. “I don’t want to be bad karma for you. I don’t want you to worry about how you’re going to pay your bills.”

“I’ve been worrying about that for years, but I’ve managed.”

“Life is about more than managing…when it’s good.”

As he said those words, Jeannette saw pain in Zane’s eyes. They hadn’t gotten a chance tonight to talk about more than where he was from. She didn’t know much more about him now than she had before dinner. Had he kept his life hidden on purpose? If so, why?

So she asked again. “All right, so now I know why you would do it. Let me ask you now how you would do it. I mean, my salary’s not stupendous, but most people couldn’t just add that into their budget as another bill.”

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?” he asked, studying her so probingly that she felt almost turned inside out.

“Who are you?” She heard the wobble in her voice because she was suddenly afraid to learn the answer. After all, Dillon Traub had indicated he was a stand-up guy.

“I’m Zane Gunther.”

She must have still looked blank because he added, “The country singer.”

The only music she listened to blared from the Disney Channel. She’d ignored country music over the years because it had always touched her too much—bringing back memories she’d rather forget. But as she studied the man before her, a man she hadn’t recognized out of his stage-presence context, she remembered a poster she’d seen last year for Frontier Days—a community celebration to bring in tourists. She now remembered Zane Gunther’s ruggedly handsome, clean-shaven face, his black Stetson, the much-shorter hair, his twinkling green eyes. Her lips opened in surprise and she was absolutely speechless. Zane Gunther—the singer—had brought ribs to her house for dinner?

Zane had picked up his Stetson from the counter and plopped it on his head. Then he leaned into her, kissed her parted lips for a soul-stirring moment and backed away.

By the time Jeannette recovered her wits, he’d stepped outside and closed the door.

Too stunned to go after him, too shaken by his kiss, she touched her fingers to her lips and wondered if she’d ever see the mega-star again.

Jeannette mounted the steps to the Thunder Canyon Library on Saturday afternoon, determined to find out everything she could about Zane Gunther. She’d heard the name bandied about on TV shows after the Country Music Awards and, of course, during last year’s Frontier Days. But he looked so different! She didn’t know his music. And she certainly didn’t know why he’d be staying on top of a mountain near Thunder Canyon.

After five minutes at the library’s computer, however, she knew exactly why. He was escaping the paparazzi furor, anyone who wanted to interview him, as well as what had happened. She didn’t know which account to believe. Everyone spun a story the way they wanted it to be heard. She’d like to hear the truth from Zane himself. But which Zane? Mountain Man Zane? Or Zane Gunther, the country singer?

She might never have the chance to hear anything from him. He could be gone tomorrow!

Yet she remembered that kiss. Surely he hadn’t been as affected as she had. After all, he was Zane Gunther. Why had he even wanted to come to dinner at her place?

The woman at the computer next to her, obviously nosy, saw the content of what she’d been searching. “It’s a shame, isn’t it?” The curly redhead in jeans, who looked to be near sixty, around Edna’s age, obviously wanted to strike up a conversation.

“I don’t know much about him,” Jeannette admitted. “That’s why I was doing a search on him.”

“I heard he was asked to perform at Frontier Days again, but he turned it down. Maybe he’s afraid to show his face.”

Jeannette mulled over everything she’d read. “Or maybe he’s had enough of showing his face and everybody jumping on him.”

“Have you seen him in concert?”

“No, I haven’t. Have you?”

“Oh, I was there last year. He was wonderful! Makes you think he’s a regular guy.”

“Maybe he is.”

“Not with all that money. I heard he’s got a place in Nashville and one in Utah.”

“I suppose he travels a lot.”

“Especially when he’s on tour. No wonder he doesn’t have a family. Who could with that kind of schedule?”

Jeannette’s heart took a nosedive. She supposed that was true. On the other hand, she knew there were singers who had successful relationships and children. Why did that matter to her?

She shut down the search engine and was about to get up when the woman next to her asked, “So why were you looking him up?”

Why, indeed? She almost said, Because I met him and was curious. But then she thought about the story she’d read, the pain in Zane’s eyes, the way he’d looked at her. “Like you said, I heard a rumor he might perform at Frontier Days again this year. I was just curious.”

“Never happen,” the woman said with certainty. “We probably won’t see his face again until he goes to trial. I bet that family will win.”

Jeannette had no idea what would happen. But she did know one thing. From the change in Zane Gunther’s appearance, from the way he was living on that mountain, she guessed his life had already changed irrevocably.

Jeannette’s car was running rough as she pulled up in front of Edna and Mel’s two-story colonial house in an older section of Thunder Canyon. Since before Jonah was born, this house had been her home. She’d moved in during her pregnancy and stayed until a few months ago. But she had to be on her own now. That was best for her and Jonah.

She rapped on the door to announce her arrival and went inside. Mel and Edna were sitting in matching recliners watching TV, while Jonah played with blocks over in the corner.

He ran to her and hugged her around the waist. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, honey. Ready to go?”

“You look beat,” Mel said matter-of-factly. He was usually cheery but always to the point.

“I should wear roller skates on Saturday nights,” she joked. “LipSmackin’ Ribs was hopping.”

Edna frowned. “Do you think they’ll have a winter uniform?”

Jeannette looked down at her royal blue short shorts, the skimpy white T-shirt that left part of her tummy showing, the logo on the front with its big red lips. “I’m pretty sure this is an all-year-round uniform. As fast as we move, we don’t get cold.”

She understood Edna wasn’t worried about her getting cold. She disapproved of her showing off her body. When Jeannette worked at LipSmackin’ Ribs with the other waitresses, she could make herself believe the uniform wasn’t so bad. But outside of the restaurant, she found it hard to defend. What happened when values and the need for money smashed into each other?

She had to pay the bills. A few business classes taken at night didn’t qualify her for a CEO position. Right out of high school she’d worked as a secretary for a textile company in Thunder Canyon. But it had closed its doors a few years later. After that, she’d worked for an insurance company in Bozeman as a receptionist. That’s where she’d met Ed. But early in her pregnancy she’d had to quit that job because of severe morning sickness and then a near miscarriage. After Ed died, Edna and Mel had insisted she come live with them to make sure she could carry the baby to term. Once Jonah had been born, they hadn’t wanted her to leave.

“Did you have something to eat?” Edna was a little plump, with silver wire-rimmed glasses and salt-and-pepper hair that curled around her face. She’d had a difficult time conceiving children. She’d had a couple of miscarriages and that’s why she’d understood the care Jeannette had needed so well.

Jeannette smiled at this woman who had become a surrogate mother to her. “I’ll get something when I get home. I used my break times to make calls.”

“Calls?” Mel asked, turning away from the TV again.

Jeannette absolutely shouldn’t have said anything. But now it was too late. She wasn’t going to lie and they’d eventually find out from her work schedule that she didn’t have her cleaning job anymore. She would not let Zane pay her way. “I was let go from Mops and Brooms. They claim they just don’t have the business they once had. So I’m trying to find something else that will fit in with waitressing.”

Mel and Edna exchanged a look and Edna became the couple’s spokesperson. “If you need to move back here, you know you’re welcome. Your main job should be raising Jonah, not scrambling from here to there to try to put pennies together.”

Jeannette wished that was so, she really did. But reality was reality. “I appreciate your offer and everything you’ve done. I hope you know that. But Jonah and I will be okay. I have insurance for him at the restaurant and I’m sure I’ll be able to pick up something else part-time. The next time I have a break, I’ll go to the library and put together my résumé on the computer there.” That’s what she should have been doing this afternoon, instead of researching Zane Gunther.

After another disapproving look that told Jeannette Edna and Mel wanted her and Jonah back here under their watchful eye, Edna said, “I made chicken salad. You can take that along. I know you. You’ll just eat a salad and yogurt at home.”

Jeannette didn’t know what was wrong with a salad and yogurt, but she held her tongue as Jonah put his blocks away and then slipped into his jacket.

Back at her apartment a short time later, Jeannette made herself a sandwich while Jonah got ready for bed. She’d just taken it to the living room with a glass of milk when he came running in, brown hair standing up all over, pajama top crooked. “Is this late night?”

When Jonah didn’t have to go to school the next day, she let him stay up a little longer. It gave them much-needed time together. “This is late night. What do you want to do?”

“Puzzles,” he said without hesitation.

“Okay. Pick out two favorites and dump them on the coffee table.”

Jeannette took a few bites of her sandwich and a sip of milk, planning to finish it while she played with Jonah. But there was a knock at the door and she stopped midbite. She and Jonah didn’t get many visitors. They weren’t here that much. She was on a waving basis with two of her neighbors. Maybe one of them needed something.

Going to the door, she looked through the peephole and froze. It was Zane Gunther!

So many thoughts ran through her head. Why was he here? Was he here because he wanted to see her again? Or was he here to sum things up before he left her life completely?

She looked down at her uniform and wished she could go change, even if it was to put a robe on top of it. But she didn’t have time for that. Not if she didn’t want him to leave.

When she opened the door, his eyes lingered on her face. Their gazes held for what seemed like a very long time. When he glanced at her snug but short T-shirt and the rest of her, she saw his mouth tighten and his jaw set.

Maybe he disapproved as much as Edna. Or maybe—

His eyes darkened under the glare of the outside apartment light. She’d seen that same change in him last night right before he’d kissed her.

She stepped aside and opened the door wider. “This is a surprise.” Knowing who he was made her nervous, when she hadn’t been jittery around him before.

After he closed the door behind him, he took off his Stetson and held it in his hands. “I didn’t know if you’d let me in now that you know who I am.”

He was dressed in a black T-shirt, black jeans and black boots that weren’t as worn as his brown ones. The air of masculinity emanating from him was as powerful now as it had been the first day she’d met him. Her fingers itched to touch his biceps, let alone the beard stubble on his face. No wonder women mobbed him in droves!

“I don’t know you,” she admitted. “Not really.”

Tension pulled between them and vibrated. “I wanted to be an ordinary guy for a little while. I still do.”

“But you’re not an ordinary guy.”

Jonah rushed into the kitchen then. “Zane! You can help with puzzles!”

Zane tore his eyes from hers and ruffled the boy’s already-disheveled hair. “Life’s one big puzzle, partner. But I guess I can try and help you figure one out, if your mom thinks that’s okay.”

He leveled a look at her that seemed to say, This is your call.

Common sense battled with the attraction she felt for him. She’d never let hormones sway her before. On the other hand, what could it hurt to find out more about him? About the man behind the guitar.

A wise voice inside her head whispered back, It could hurt your heart a lot.

She silenced that voice. “I’ll make a pot of coffee. Why don’t you two get started?”

Chapter Three

Jeannette watched Zane carefully as he picked up a puzzle piece and showed Jonah how to look for straight and crooked edges. He looked relaxed now, leaning over the coffee table with her son. She couldn’t keep her gaze from skimming down his torso, over his slim hips and his long jean-clad legs.

Easily, she remembered everything she’d read about Zane for the last decade of his career—number one singles, Grammys, CMA awards for Best Male Vocalist, sellout concerts, a multimillion-dollar tour cut short. Curiously, she’d examined photos of him with glamorous women, climbing in and out of limos, even a helicopter flight to one of the concerts. She’d never even seen a helicopter live, let alone been in one. The same with a limo.

So why was he here in her living room, spending time with her and her son? And what was the truth about what had happened at the concert and how he’d reacted afterward? She had so many questions and she didn’t know if she’d ever have the answers.

When Zane glanced her way, her outfit almost made her cringe. “I’m going to change out of my work clothes. I’ll be right back.”

Quickly, she mentally flashed through her wardrobe which wasn’t that extensive, and in a few minutes came up with a pink scoop-necked sweater and jeans. After she slipped on an old pair of espadrilles, she took the band from her hair and brushed it. With a touch of lip gloss, she knew she was about as ready as she’d ever be—to face Zane, his private and public persona and anything he wanted to tell her.

As she reentered the living room, Zane nudged Jonah’s shoulder. “Doesn’t your mom look pretty?”

Jonah stared at her for a couple of seconds, then glanced back at Zane. “She looks like she always does.”

Although she’d first been embarrassed, Jonah’s remark helped her smile when Zane chuckled. “Kids say it like it is,” Zane decided with a shrug. “You must be pretty all the time.”

She was twenty-eight years old and shouldn’t feel like a shy teenager, but she did, especially now that she knew who he was. Did glib remarks fly off his tongue easily? Was that honesty she saw in his eyes? Or practiced flirting? How would she ever know?

Once Jeannette was seated on the sofa beside Zane, she helped Jonah put together the last few pieces of the puzzle.

“You didn’t eat.” Zane motioned to her sandwich, half eaten, on the dish on the coffee table.

“I had enough.”

His brows arched.

She felt she had to explain. “Sometimes I’m just too tired to eat when I get home. Or too busy.”

“Jeannette, you have to—”

“I know what you’re going to say. But I did sample a new recipe for wings at the restaurant, and a square of bread pudding, too.

“That’s what you had to eat all day?”

“And breakfast. Jonah and I had scrambled eggs, toast and a little bit of fruit.”

“Mom makes great eggs.”

“I’ll bet she does. Ready to start on that second puzzle?”

Jonah looked at Jeannette with one of those “little boy” looks that told her he wanted something. She waited.

Finally, he asked, “Can Zane read me a book?”

Zane seemed to know intuitively what to do. He gave her a little nod, showing her he was game.

“It’s a book or a puzzle. Then you do have to go to bed.”

“Oh, Mom. It’s late night.”

“Yes, I know, and it’s already getting late. One or the other. You choose.”

After a few seconds Jonah decided, “A book. In my room.”

Jeannette knew if she let Zane into Jonah’s room, she was letting him further into her life. Yet sitting beside him on the sofa, almost aware of every breath he took, definitely aware of his cologne and the restrained strength of him beside her, she felt as if she were fighting a losing battle. “Go pick out the book. Then we’ll be in.”

After Jonah was out of earshot, Zane asked, “Does he often back you into a corner like that?”

“More often than I’d like him to. For four-and-a-half he has great manipulative skills.” She lifted her chin and studied Zane’s face. “Why did you come tonight?” Could she get even one of her answers?

“Because I wanted to see you again…because I hoped you didn’t believe everything you read.”

She had to be honest with him. “I hadn’t read much, not until this afternoon when I went to the library and searched your name on the computer.”

“I see.” His voice was tense and much more distant.

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“Mommy! Zane! I found a book.”

Rising to her feet Jeannette said, “My guess is he picked the longest one he could find.”

But when they reached Jonah’s room, Jeannette found he had picked one of his favorite books rather than the longest. It was a funny book with silly pictures and lots of rhymes.

Sitting on the bed beside Jonah, Zane put expression into the words without half trying. Jonah laughed and so did Zane, and her heart ached with everything Jonah needed that she couldn’t provide. A dad’s love was different than a mom’s. Her gaze fell on the photograph of Ed on Jonah’s bedside table. He would have loved his son and done anything for him. He’d proven that when he’d taken two jobs and worked so many hours she’d hardly seen him. That had been her fault. If she hadn’t missed so many days of work because of morning sickness, if she hadn’t started spotting…if she hadn’t gotten pregnant…

She had switched from birth control pills to patches and one week she’d simply forgotten to change it. When she discovered she was pregnant, she hadn’t known how Ed would react. They’d been together for three years and he’d been dragging his feet about commitment. They’d been living together, but sometimes she still felt he could walk away at any time. Yet when she told him she was pregnant, he’d said they should get married. However, he kept putting it off, finally pushing the event until after the baby was born. She would have liked to have gotten married before Jonah was born. But she was just so glad Ed was finally ready that she hadn’t questioned him and hadn’t pushed, although a part of her had always wondered if he was doing it out of duty or out of love.

She still didn’t know. She’d never know.

“All done,” Jonah suddenly said, slapping the covers of the book together. “We could read it again.”

“Or not,” Jeannette said firmly. “Say good-night to Zane and I’ll help you get ready for bed.”

Jonah’s good-night for Zane came accompanied with another hug. Her little boy was getting attached very quickly. Maybe if Zane were an ordinary man, she’d let it continue. But how could she when she knew who he was? When he didn’t have a normal life? When his interlude in Thunder Canyon might not last very long? When he could be gone tomorrow?

Tonight when she finished Jonah’s bedtime ritual and left his door open a crack, she found Zane pacing the living room. “What’s wrong?” she asked, knowing something was.

“I have no business being here. If a journalist got wind of what I was doing and where I was, I’d be dragging you and Jonah into everything that’s going on.”

“You call that tripe written about you journalism?”

He grimaced. “Well, at least you could see it wasn’t that. Some people can’t see through it. They think an article in a publication that writes about alien abductions is the same as one in the New York Times.”

She eyed him thoughtfully. “Would you like a beer?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Did you have supper?”

“I ate one of those frozen dinners you stocked my freezer with.”

“How about a Southwestern omelet? I bought salsa on sale at the grocery store and Woody, my manager, was going to throw away perfectly good containers of sour cream. The waitresses divided them up.”

“That sounds great. But if you’re too tired to cook, I don’t need anything.”

“This will take five minutes. And from your pictures six months ago and the way you look now, I’d say you need to eat a little more than you’re eating, too.”

“You sound like Dillon.”

“With good reason. How much weight have you lost?”

“About fifteen pounds. But I often lose ten when I start a new tour.”

“Really?”

“It happens. My hours aren’t regular and I’m a perfectionist. I work in my bus, not only writing music, but staying on top of the business, promotion with my publicist, gigs with my manager, money flow with the accountant. I delegate, but I still oversee everything. I don’t want any unhappy surprises when I least expect them.”

Jeannette took eggs from the refrigerator and pulled out the jar of salsa. The frying pan, though clean, was sitting on the stove from that morning. “Is any part of your life normal?”

“Normal becomes what we make it, don’t you think?”

“Is that an excuse for saying no?”

“You cut right through it, don’t you?”

“I have to, Zane. I’m a single mom. I can’t lie to myself and I can usually read evasive tactics in others. It’s a gift,” she added teasingly, trying to lighten the conversation a little.

Shaking his head, Zane took a spatula from a utensil crock on the counter and handed it to her. “Do you need anything else from the refrigerator?”

“There’s some grated cheese in there. If you could get that—”

In five minutes the omelet was finished and divided in two. Jeannette had popped bread into the toaster and grabbed the strawberry jelly from the fridge. “Edna made it. It’s good.”

Zane ate like a man who was enjoying his food. After he finished, he said, “That hit the spot. Maybe I just enjoy food more when I have someone to eat with.” He motioned to her empty plate. “It might be the same for you.”

“It might be. I eat more with Jonah, or when we have a Sunday dinner with Edna and Mel.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Not lately. With this job at LipSmackin’ Ribs, my hours are all over the place. I work weekends whenever I can.” She didn’t have to say because of the tips. He knew that already.

Zane picked up his fork and hers with both their plates and loaded it all into the small dishwasher.

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do. You cooked. I clean up. It’s an unwritten contract.”

“I think there are a lot of men in this world who are unaware of that contract.”

Zane closed the door to the dishwasher. “Let’s go sit on the sofa and talk. You deserve to know the truth about what happened at my last concert.”

In the living room they settled on the sofa a few inches apart. Jeannette thought about sitting in the matching chair, but she wanted to be near Zane for a reason other than her attraction to him. Maybe he’d give off signals that would tell her if he was being glib or guarded or dishonest. She also had to admit she just wanted to be close to him. Because he was a star? Actually, no. It was because there was something about him that made her heart race and her skin tingle and her stomach flip-flop.

Zane glanced at her, then raked his hand through his thick brown hair. With the table lamp beside him, she realized there were burnished strands in it. He wore a Stetson so much of the time that she hadn’t noticed them before.

“I began promoting my new CD last September when I performed at Frontier Days. I had written a lead song—‘Movin’ On’—and performed it for the first time here at the arena at the fairgrounds. When my CD was released last year, sales skyrocketed and the tour started off with a bang.”

“How many concerts do you do a week?”

“That depends. I’d rather do several close together, and then give everybody a break for a week or two. That’s easier on their family life. But spring through summer is our busiest time.”

“You said you have a bus?”

He frowned. “Yep. I used to call it my home away from home. But now—”

“Tell me what happened,” she requested, knowing the bus was involved.

He hesitated, obviously reluctant. After heaving a deep breath, he began, “It was early April. I’d done a bunch of media events in New York and L.A. We’d started a monthlong series of concerts and did a few in the Southwest. Texas concerts are great because I can usually wiggle in time to see my mom and old friends who still live in Midland.”

When he stopped, she could see the shadows in his eyes, the click of memories playing that he’d rather avoid. He shifted on the sofa, leaned forward, placed his hands on his knees. “We performed at a venue near Austin. It was an outdoor arena with stadiumlike seats under cover, others close to the stage, not covered. It was an evening show with all the lights and hoopla that can make a concert spectacular. The audience was great. They’d come to enjoy themselves, to sing along, clap, stomp, whatever it took to feel part of the music.”

Jeannette could see Zane was reliving it, maybe feeling the rhythm under his feet, his guitar in his hands, the songs in his head.

“Because it was a night concert, I did the meet and greet beforehand,” he explained. “I met with folks in the fan club, spoke with others who’d won tickets through radio contests, that sort of thing. But I also signed autographs for about an hour before the concert with the general audience. I wanted to get on the road and didn’t want it to go too late afterward.”

She could imagine the crowd, the concertgoers vying for his autograph on hands and T-shirts and CD covers. It had been a long, long time since she’d been at a concert, but she remembered the feel of it, the excitement, the bass vibrating in her chest.

Zane rubbed his palms on his jeans and stared straight ahead. “The audience got more revved up with each song, and we found ourselves doing more than we scheduled, just because we were enjoying it so much. I usually plan two encores, but I think we did five that night. I’ll admit it’s hard for me to leave the stage when the audience is that encouraging. Or at least it was.”

From the tone in Zane’s voice she could tell he felt differently about all of it now.

“Tell me what happened,” she requested gently.

He turned to look at her for a moment, and then he closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’ll never forget it, as long as I live.” He paused. “I had a bodyguard who went with me everywhere. Roscoe handled my personal security team. They’re supposed to keep me safe and they always did a terrific job of it. My promoter was in charge of the security force for the concert venue. They’d done a fine job with that large crowd. The concert had gone off without a hitch. The band had already left. Then…”

He stopped. “I’m not sure what happened. My tour bus was parked at the back of the stage. Often a crowd gathers there to catch a glimpse of me leaving. It happens everywhere we go and it’s not unusual. There had never been a problem before. But that night the crowd around the bus suddenly got too large and too close. Roscoe and his team formed a line for me to get to the bus. I was on the first step when I heard and felt the surge, saw the fans break through the guard line. The next thing I knew, someone was down and there was screaming. The 9-1-1 call went out and I still wasn’t sure what had happened. Roscoe shoved me into the bus and I was fighting him to get into the crowd. But he insisted they would tear me apart. I told him I wasn’t leaving until I knew what had happened. We’d called the police to tell them we were circling the venue. As far as I was concerned, this was my concert, my responsibility. I made the calls myself to the chief of police and the nearest hospital, but nobody would tell me anything. During all that, my manager called a lawyer. I didn’t want to talk to him. I wasn’t worried about liability. I was worried about whoever got hurt.”

Jeannette could hear the emotion in Zane’s voice, the rough huskiness that stopped him from telling more.

Finally he shifted on the sofa. His knee grazed hers as he faced her. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. My lawyer has instructed me not to talk about it to anybody, not to go near Ashley’s family or talk to them.”

Jeannette knew Ashley Tuller had been thirteen. This was breaking her heart, imagining what her parents felt…what Zane was feeling. “You don’t know me very well, Zane,” she admitted. “But I can tell you I won’t go to a tabloid and I won’t talk to a reporter. That doesn’t mean you’ll believe me. I think I already understand that Ashley’s death was life-changing for you, so if you don’t want to talk about it more, or can’t, that’s okay.”

“I haven’t talked to anyone about it except for my lawyer. I haven’t even spoken to Dillon or the guys in my band about the details.”

If he hadn’t told his best friend, his closest friends, she doubted he’d tell her. She didn’t know if she should, but she reached out and covered his hand with hers.

The nerve in his jaw jumped. “Ashley had a head injury, severe trauma. She was airlifted to a hospital in Dallas best equipped to deal with that. For three days she was in a coma—three days when her parents didn’t know if she was going to live or die. From what I understand, her older sister was by her side twenty-four hours a day.” He shook his head. “I can’t even imagine their pain. Even if I could talk to them, what would I say? Dillon lost his son and I know what he went through. I just wish—”

“What do you wish?”

“I wish I could do something so I didn’t feel so powerless. I wish they could know I didn’t leave the scene like some of the tabloids reported. Since the family filed a civil suit, everyone around me is telling me to listen to my lawyer. I feel like he’s tied my hands and feet and taped my mouth shut. This isn’t me. I do something when I can. I don’t wait around to see what happens next.”

“You’re waiting for the trial.”

Zane nodded. “It will probably be sometime in December. We haven’t gotten the official date yet.”

“I guess your lawyer’s trying to settle?”

Zane leaned back against the sofa cushions and shook his head. “This isn’t about money. I know that. No amount of money will bring Ashley back. Her parents want someone to pay. And need somebody to blame. I understand. But I don’t think a trial or settlement is going to be the answer.”

Her hand was still covering his. She pulled hers away and put it back in her lap where it belonged. She knew Zane had arrived in May. She’d been cleaning his house and taking him supplies for that long. But she wasn’t completely sure why he’d come. “You came to Thunder Canyon to escape the paparazzi?”

Again he studied her, maybe unsure he could trust her. She could probably earn a bank account full of money if she took his story to any number of magazines. After all, it seemed like former acquaintances of Zane and anyone who had been there that night was doing just that. But no one had the words from his mouth but her.

The thing was, Jeannette knew in her heart that she would never sell Zane’s story to anyone or even talk about it.

Maybe he saw that.

“My lawyer suggested a leave of absence. But I couldn’t have returned to the tour if I’d wanted to. The night this happened, I felt like I’d grown a stone in my chest. That feeling hasn’t gone away. At first I couldn’t think about anything else. All I could think about was Ashley, day and night, and what her family was feeling. Even when her parents started giving interviews, saying it was my fault, I couldn’t be angry with them because I felt it was my fault, in spite of what my lawyer says, or my promoter or my manager or my band. They all have a lot to lose—their livelihood, but also their reputation, which really matters in this business. My bodyguard quit. He felt as guilty as hell. I’ve been with Roscoe since I won my first award. My mother is torn up because I’m torn up. That’s the kind of relationship we’ve always had.”

Jeannette remembered the one headline she’d read: RIFT BETWEEN ZANE GUNTHER AND HIS MOTHER.

“Has this caused problems between you and your mom?”

He gave a twisted smile. “You read the tabloid, huh?”

“No, I just saw the headline.”

“No rift. I call her when I can, so she knows I’m okay. I can’t do it from the mountain. I can’t get a signal till I’m down on the road. I went home once since this happened and photojournalists—” he made quote marks with his fingers “—took advantage of it, so I thought it was better if I stayed away.”

“You really are isolated.”

Quickly, he straightened. “Hey, don’t feel sorry for me. That isn’t why I’m telling you this. I just wanted you to understand what happened, not what the press says happened. Not what the lawyers say happened. Heck, I couldn’t believe you didn’t know who I was. I was grateful and humbled. Maybe I need a little more humbling.”

“Because?”

“Because before all this happened I could have had anything I wanted. I could go anyplace I wanted. I could do whatever I wanted. That’s not how normal people live. I haven’t had a normal life since my first CD took off.” He blew out a breath. “Now I sound like I’m complaining about it. I’m not. I appreciate absolutely everything that’s happened to me. But the truth is, since this happened, I have no music in my head, let alone in my heart. It used to be that a verse would just fly into my thoughts no matter what I was doing, and then the music to match it would play, or vice versa. Now there’s nothing. Just silence. Even when there’s noise all around me, there’s silence in me.”

“I haven’t listened to your music yet,” she admitted. “I borrowed CDs from the library. But if you had the gift of music, something that was with you all the time and followed you everywhere and you could just snatch it when you wanted to, and then suddenly it was gone, I’d want to live on a mountaintop, too. I understand what happens when fate deals a blow that no one expects.” She thought about Ed and his accident and how that had turned her life upside down when she’d least expected it. One day she was planning for the birth of her baby and a wedding, and the next…

“That happened with Jonah’s father?” Zane asked with real concern and interest.

“Yes, it did.”

“But you don’t want to go into that now?”

He had just shared so much with her, and she wanted to tell him about Ed, but—

“It’s late and you’re tired,” he realized. “I probably shouldn’t have come over tonight, but I didn’t want to wait. Too much can happen when you wait.”

Feeling shy and a little awkward, she smiled at him. “I’m glad you came over. I was wondering about so much.”

He looked as if he were about to say something more, maybe ask her something. But he didn’t. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet.

She was afraid this was it. Or maybe relieved this was it. They really had nothing in common. Their lifestyles were worlds apart.

Standing, she followed him to the door. She suddenly wanted to say, Please don’t go. But she had a child, and she was a waitress and she had a life here. He could be gone in a flash, in a helicopter or a private plane or a limo.

At the open door, with his Stetson on now, he gazed down at her with an intense look in his eyes. “I like you, Jeannette. I like you a lot. But I have a complicated life right now and I don’t want anybody else to be tainted by it.”

How could they be? He had done nothing wrong. Yet the world was portraying him as selfish, as just another star who was out for the money and the glory and the fame without caring about his fans. But she could see that wasn’t true at all.

“Do you work tomorrow?” he asked.

“I do. But Jonah and I will have time to go to church first. Edna and Mel like to make a big brunch afterward.”

“Sounds nice.”

She’d love to invite him along, but how crazy would that be? Edna and Mel would have a fit at the thought of any man taking their son’s place in her life. Besides, Zane’s cover would be blown. She could see he needed as much peace as he could get right now.

“You enjoy yourselves. Family is really all we have when the going gets rough.”

He was supposed to be leaving and she was supposed to be saying goodbye. But the magnet of their attraction drew them together until they seemed mesmerized by each other.

When Zane slid his hand under her hair, she felt a cool breeze waft along her cheek. It emphasized the warmth of his hand, her own temperature seeming to rise at his touch. It had taken a few dates with Ed before she’d kissed him. This man she’d kissed before she’d even known him. But then, could last night’s brief touching of lips even be considered a kiss?

“I want a taste of you,” he said huskily as his lips descended closer to hers.

His words sent a rippling thrill through her body until she realized a need that had gone unsatisfied within her for years. When Zane’s lips came down on hers tonight, they weren’t gentle or light. Oh, no. Tonight they were hungry, searching for desire to be fulfilled, searching for a response that might or might not be there.

Her body reacted as if she’d been born to respond to Zane. She enfolded her arms around his neck, and he pulled her in tighter. His tongue slid into her mouth and her gasp of pleasure opened her up more completely to him. He explored with a possessive need that almost made her moan. She felt as if a low-burning fire inside of her burst into flames. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth on hers, his tongue retreating, then urging her on. Pressed against him, she felt his arousal and a satisfaction she had long ago forgotten.

When he withdrew and pulled away, they were both breathing hard. She was still trying to catch her breath when he said, “That was Zane the man who kissed you, not Zane Gunther the country singer.”

Then he let her go and walked away, his steps quick, his stride long. She heard him gallop down the stairs and then his bootfalls faded away.

She knew one thing for certain. If Zane Gunther could sing as well as he kissed, his music would come back to him. She was sure of it.

Chapter Four

“Are you ready?” Jeannette called to Jonah.

Today was Labor Day which was ironic because she’d spent the morning doing household chores. This afternoon she and Jonah were going to the park. This was a rare day off for her and she was going to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with her son.

“Soon,” Jonah called back from his room and she had to smile.

The phone on her kitchen counter rang just as she was about to find out what was keeping him. “Hello,” she answered, not recognizing the number, hoping beyond hope it would be Zane. She’d listened to his CDs last night after Jonah had gone to bed and had been touched by Zane’s voice as well as his heartfelt lyrics. His kiss had taken up most of her waking thoughts and had invaded her dreams. But she wasn’t Cinderella, and she was silly if she believed anything could come of the two of them kissing.

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