Amanda would not be scared off by a big, gorgeous sheriff with eyes as cold as a winter wind.

“If you think you’re worrying me, you’re wrong,” she said.

Nathan stared at her. “I don’t want you worried. I don’t want you at all.”

Direct hit, she thought as an icy fist slammed into her chest and squeezed her heart. But she wouldn’t let him see it. “I don’t want you, either, Nathan. I’m not that young girl anymore, dazzled because Nathan Battle noticed her—”

He grabbed her, yanked her close and kissed her with a fierce desperation that was fueled by desire and anger, all twisted up together. She could feel it in him as she felt it in herself. Past and present tangled together and memories as thick as honey on a winter morning.

But those memories were swamped by all of the new sensations coursing through her.

About the Author

MAUREEN CHILD writes for Mills & Boon® Desire™ and can’t imagine a better job. Being able to indulge your love for romance as well as being able to spin stories just the way you want them told is, in a word, perfect.

A seven-time finalist for the prestigious Romance Writers of America RITA® Award, Maureen is the author of more than one hundred romance novels. Her books regularly appear on the bestseller lists and have won several awards, including the Prism, The National Readers’ Choice Award, The Colorado Award of Excellence and the Golden Quill.

One of her books, The Soul Collector, was made into a CBS-TV movie starring Melissa Gilbert, Bruce Greenwood and Ossie Davis. If you look closely, in the last five minutes of the movie you’ll spot Maureen, who was an extra in the last scene.

Maureen believes that laughter goes hand in hand with love, so her stories are always filled with humor. The many letters she receives assures her that her readers love to laugh as much as she does.

Maureen Child is a native Californian, but has recently moved to the mountains of Utah. She loves a new adventure, though the thought of having to deal with snow for the first time is a little intimidating.

Rumour Has It

Maureen Child

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Rosemary Rangel Estrada

We really miss you, neighbor!

One

Amanda Altman’s back in town.

It was all anyone could talk about and Nathan Battle was getting pretty damn sick of it. Nothing he hated more than being at the center of a gossip tornado. He’d already lived through it once, years ago. Of course, he’d escaped the worst of it by moving to Houston and burying himself in the police academy and then his job.

Wouldn’t work this time. He’d built his place here. He wasn’t going anywhere. Mostly because Nathan Battle didn’t run. So he’d just have to ride this mess out until the town found something new to chew on.

But that was life in Royal, Texas. A town too small to mind its own business and too big to have to repeat the same gossip over and over again.

Even here, he thought, in the hallowed halls of the Texas Cattleman’s Club, Nathan couldn’t escape the talk—or the speculation. Not even from his best friend.

“So, Nathan,” Chance asked with a knowing grin, “you see Amanda yet?”

Nathan looked at the man sitting opposite him. Chance McDaniel owned McDaniel’s Acres, a working dude ranch and hotel just south of town. The man had built the place from the ground up on property he’d inherited from his family, and he’d done a hell of a job.

Chance’s blond hair was cropped short, but he still couldn’t get the wave out of it no matter how he tried. His green eyes were amused and Nathan shook his head, knowing that he was the source of his friend’s amusement.

“No.” One word. Should be concise enough to get his message across. And maybe it would have worked with anyone else. Of course, Nathan told himself wryly, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to get Chance to back off. They’d been friends for too long. And nobody knew how to get to you better than a best friend.

“You can’t ignore her forever,” Chance mused, taking a sip of his scotch.

“It’s worked so far,” Nathan told him and lifted his own glass for a drink.

“Sure it has,” Chance said, muffling a laugh. “That’s why you’ve been such a cool, calm guy the last couple of weeks.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes on his friend. “Funny.”

“You have no idea,” Chance agreed, lips twitching. “So, Sheriff, if you’re avoiding the Royal Diner these days, where are you getting your coffee?”

His fingers tightened on the heavy, old crystal. “The gas station.”

Now Chance didn’t bother to hide his laughter. “You must be desperate if you’re drinking the swill Charlie brews down there. You know, maybe it’s time you learned how to make decent coffee yourself.”

“And maybe it’s time you let this go,” Nathan told him. Irritating is what it was, he thought. His whole damn routine had been splintered when Amanda moved back home to Royal. Used to be he started off his day with a large coffee and maybe some eggs at the diner. Amanda’s sister, Pam, always had his coffee ready for him when he walked in. That was a routine a man could count on. But since Amanda blew back into his world, he’d had to make do with Charlie’s disgusting coffee and a packaged sweet roll.

Even when she wasn’t trying, Amanda found a way to screw with him.

“Seriously, Nate,” Chance said, lowering his voice a little so the other members of the TCC couldn’t overhear, “from all reports, Amanda’s here to stay. Seems she’s been making some changes to the diner, settling in. Even talking about looking for a house of her own, according to Margie Santos.”

Nathan had heard all the same talk, of course. Hard not to, when everyone in a ten-mile radius was more than eager to talk to him about Amanda. Margie Rice was the top real estate agent in Royal and one of the biggest gossips as well. If she was spreading the word that Amanda was looking for her own place, then Nathan had to admit that she was here for the long term.

Which meant he couldn’t ignore her for much longer.

Too bad, because he’d finally gotten good at not thinking about Amanda. Wasn’t always the case. Several years ago, Amanda was all Nathan thought about. The passion between them had burned hotter than anything he’d ever known. She’d filled his mind, waking and sleeping.

Of course back then, they’d been engaged.

He scowled into his glass of scotch. Times change.

“New subject, Chance,” he muttered and let his gaze slide around the main room of the TCC.

While his friend talked about what was happening at the ranch, Nathan’s mind wandered. Over the years, it seemed like inside the TCC, time stood still. Even the fact that women were now officially members of the long-standing, males-only club hadn’t affected the decor. Paneled walls, dark brown leather furniture—sofas and club chairs—hunting prints on the walls and a big-screen TV so you didn’t miss a bit of any Texas sporting event.

The air smelled of lemon polish and the wood floors and tables gleamed in the lamplight. The TV was on now, but muted so that members could sit and brood behind newspapers or chat without having to shout to be heard. The soft clinking of crystal against gleaming wood tables underlined the hushed conversations surrounding them.

A woman’s laugh pealed out just then, shattering the quiet and Nathan grinned as he noted that Beau Hacket actually cringed at the sound. At nearly sixty, Beau was short, thick around the middle and with a lot more gray in what was left of his dark red hair. He had a big laugh and a narrow mind—he believed women belonged in the kitchen and didn’t care who knew it.

Now, Beau fired a hard look around the room as if to silently say, Did you all hear that? That’s just wrong. Women don’t belong here.

No one said anything, but Nathan read the tension in the room and noted more gritted jaws than usual. Women were members, but they still weren’t really welcome. Everyone was gathered for the weekly TCC meeting and none of the old guard were happy about having women included.

“Sounds like Abigail’s enjoying herself,” Chance muttered into the stillness.

“Abby always enjoys herself,” Nathan mused.

Abigail Langley Price, married to Brad Price, had been the first female member of the club. And, of course, she was having a good time now, since she had women to talk to in here. But it hadn’t been easy on her, gaining acceptance at the TCC. Even with the support of Nathan, Chance and several of the other members, she’d had to fight her way in—and Nathan admired that about her.

“Does it feel weird to you,” Chance asked, “to have women in the club now?”

“Nope.” Nathan finished off his scotch and set the empty glass down on the table in front of him. “Felt weirder when they weren’t allowed in here.”

“Yeah,” his friend said. “I know what you mean.” Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees. “But men like Beau over there aren’t happy about it.”

Nathan shrugged. “Men like Beau are always complaining about something. Besides, he and the others are just gonna have to get used to it.” Then he added what he’d been thinking a few minutes ago. “Times change.”

“They really do,” Chance agreed. “Like, for example, the vote we’re taking tonight.”

Relieved to be off the subject of Amanda, Nathan turned his thoughts to the upcoming vote. It had been the talk of the town for days. Once Abigail and the other women became members of the TCC they’d had some ideas of their own to put forth and tonight marked the vote for one of the biggest items.

“The child-care center?” Nathan asked and Chance nodded.

“It’s a big deal and only going to make the hard-line members more irritated than ever.”

“True,” Nathan agreed, imagining the fireworks that would soon take place over the vote. “Only makes sense if you think about it, though. A safe place for the kids while their parents are here. Probably should have done it years ago.”

“Right there with ya,” Chance told him with a shake of his head. “But I’m not sure Beau’s going to agree with that.”

“Beau doesn’t agree with anything,” Nathan said with a chuckle. As town sheriff, Nathan had to deal with Beau Hacket on a regular basis. The man had a complaint about everything and everyone, and didn’t mind taking up the sheriff’s time with them. “A more contrary man has never lived.”

“True.”

The clock over the river-stone fireplace began to chime the hour and both of them stood up.

“Guess it’s time to get the meeting started.”

“This should be good,” Chance told Nathan and followed him down the hallway to the official meeting room.

An hour later, the arguments were still being shouted out. Beau Hacket had some support for his Neanderthal opinions. Sam and Josh Gordon, the twins who owned and operated Gordon Construction, were getting to be just as hardheaded as Beau.

“Is it just me,” Nate whispered to his friend Alex Santiago, “or is Sam Gordon starting to become more and more like Beau Hacket?”

Alex shifted a look at the twin who was spouting all the reasons why children didn’t belong in the TCC.

“It’s not just you,” he answered quietly. “Even his twin looks surprised at Sam’s arguments.”

Alex hadn’t lived in Royal very long, but he’d made lots of friends in town and seemed to already have a handle on the town and its citizens. A venture capitalist and investor, Alex was wealthy and had become, in his short time in Royal, very influential. Sometimes Nate wondered why a man as rich as Alex would choose to settle down in Royal. But at the same time, he told himself with a smile, people probably wondered why Nathan Battle chose to be the town sheriff. Since he owned half of the Battlelands Ranch, Nate was rich enough to not have to work at all.

But then what the hell would he do?

Shaking his head, Nate gave a quick look around the long table at the members gathered. Not all of them were present, of course, but there were more than enough for the voting. Ryan Grant, former rodeo star, was attending his first official meeting and Nate saw the bemusement in the other man’s eyes. Dave Firestone, whose ranch ran alongside Nathan’s family spread, was lounging in a chair, watching the goings-on as if he were at a tennis match. Beau was nearly purple in the face, shouting down anyone who argued with him. Chance was sitting beside Shannon Morrison, who looked as if she wanted to stand up and tell Beau Hacket exactly what he could do with his outdated opinions.

And then there was Gil Addison, the TCC president, standing at the head of the table. His dark eyes flashed and Nate knew that his friend had about reached the limits of his patience.

Almost at once, Gil slammed his gavel onto its pedestal until he had quiet. The echoes of arguments and recriminations were hanging in the still air like battle flags when Gil said, “Enough talking. Time for a vote. All in favor of the child-care center being added to the TCC, say ‘aye.’”

All of the women, including Missy Reynolds and Vanessa Woodrow, spoke up, but Nathan, Alex, Chance and several of the others were quick to contribute their votes.

“All opposed,” Gil added, “say ‘no.’”

A few loud voices were heard.

The gavel slammed down again sharply. Gil nodded at the group and smiled. “Motion’s passed. A child-care center will be added to the Texas Cattlemen’s Club.”

Beau and a few of the other members, still bristling over the fact that women were now included in their group, were practically apoplectic. But, there was nothing they could do about it.

As Beau stormed out of the meeting, Nathan watched him go and almost felt a flicker of sympathy. He could see the other side of the situation, but you couldn’t stay locked in the past. The world moved every damn day and you moved with it or you got steamrolled. Tradition was one thing, being stuck in the mud was another.

Change happened whether you liked it or not, so the best way to handle it was to hop on board the train as opposed to stretching your body across the tracks and being run over. Which was, he told himself, a good way to think about how to deal with Amanda.

“This is great,” Abigail Price said with a wide smile for her friends and those who had supported them. “And our Julia will be the first child enrolled as soon as we’re up and running.”

“You bet she will, honey.” Brad Price gave his wife’s hand a squeeze. “Shame Beau and the rest are upset, but they’ll get over it.”

“You did,” Abigail reminded him with a smile.

True enough, Nate mused thoughtfully. Not too long ago, Brad and Abby were butting heads every chance they got. He’d done his best to keep Abby out of the TCC and now just look at them—in love, married, and with a great little girl.

While everyone around them talked, Alex suggested, “Why don’t we head over to the diner and get some coffee and pie?”

“Good idea,” Chance agreed and flicked a glance at Nathan.

Friends could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, Nathan told himself. These two were trying to maneuver him into a meeting with Amanda and it just wasn’t going to work. He’d see her. In his own time. In his own way. And damned if he was going to put on a show for the folks in Royal.

“No thanks,” he said, pushing up from the table. He didn’t even look at the other members in the room. “I’m headed back to the office to finish up some paperwork, then I’m going home.”

“Still in hiding?” Alex murmured.

Nathan bristled. “Pretty hard to hide in a town the size of Royal.”

“You should keep that in mind,” Chance told him.

Irritated, Nathan just gritted his teeth and left. No point in arguing with a jackass, he thought.

Amanda was so busy she almost didn’t have time to worry about Nathan.

Almost.

Turns out, even running the family diner, looking for a new house and arranging to have the transmission in her car replaced still left her brain enough room to plague her with thoughts of Nathan Battle.

“Bound to happen,” she reassured herself for the fortieth time that morning. Just being in Royal had brought the memories rushing back and, there were a lot of memories.

She’d known Nathan most of her life and had been nuts about him since she was thirteen. She could still remember the sharp, bright thrill of having Nathan, then an all-powerful senior, taking a lowly freshman to the senior prom.

“And, if we’d just stopped it right there, it would be all sunshine and roses,” she murmured as she refilled the coffee urn with water, then measured in fresh coffee grounds.

She pushed the button to start the brewing process, then turned to look out at the diner. Even with the changes she’d made in the last couple of weeks, being in this place was as good as being home.

She’d grown up in her parents’ diner, working as a busgirl, and then a waitress when she was old enough. The Royal Diner was an institution in town and she was determined that it stay that way. Which was why she’d come home after her father’s death to help her older sister, Pam, run the place.

As that reminder rolled through her mind, Amanda squared her shoulders and nodded briefly to herself. She hadn’t come home because of Nathan Battle. Even though a shiver swept through her at just the thought of his name, she discounted it as sense memory. Didn’t mean a thing. Her life was different now.

She was different now.

“Amanda, my love, when’re you going to marry me and run off to Jamaica?”

Startled out of her thoughts, Amanda smiled at the familiar voice and turned to look at Hank Bristow. At eighty, Hank was tall and thin and his skin was craggy from a lifetime spent in the sun. Now that his sons ran the family ranch, Hank spent most of his time in the diner, talking with his friends. His blue eyes twinkled as he held out his cup for a refill.

“Hank, you just love me for my coffee,” she told him, pouring a stream of the hot, fresh brew into his cup.

“A woman who can make good coffee?” Hank shook his head and said solemnly, “Worth her weight in gold.”

She smiled, patted his hand, then carried the carafe along the length of the counter, chatting with her customers, freshening coffee as she went. It was all so familiar. So…easy. She’d slid into life in Royal as smoothly as if she’d never left.

“Why did you order new menus?”

Okay, not completely smoothly. Amanda turned to face Pam. As usual, the shorter woman didn’t look happy with her. But then, the two of them had never been close. Not growing up. Not now. Even though Amanda had primarily come back to Royal because Pam had needed help running the diner. But, she supposed, needing help and wanting it were two different things.

Amanda walked the length of the counter again, and set the coffeepot down on the warmer before she answered.

“Because the old ones needed to be replaced,” she said. “The laminate was cracked and old and the menus themselves were outdated.” Catching the look of interest on Hank’s face, Amanda lowered her voice. “We don’t even serve half the things listed anymore, Pam.”

Her sister’s chin-length brown hair was tucked behind her ears. She wore a red T-shirt and jeans and a pair of scarlet sandals wrapped around her feet. She was tapping the toe of one sandal against the shining linoleum floor. “But our regular customers know that. They don’t need fancy new menus, Amanda.”

She sighed, but stood her ground. “They’re not fancy, Pam. They’re just not ratty.”

Pam hissed in a breath.

“Okay, sorry.” Amanda dug deep for patience and said, “We’re in this together, right? You said you needed help and I came home. The Altman sisters running the diner. Together.”

Pam thought about that for a long second before finally shrugging. “As long as you remember I didn’t ask you to come in and take over.”

“I’m not taking over, Pam. I’m trying to help.”

“By changing everything?” Pam’s voice spiked, then she seemed to realize that everyone in the place was no doubt listening because she spoke more softly when she continued. “There’s such a thing as tradition around here, you know. Or did you forget, living off in Dallas for so long?”

A small twinge of guilt nibbled at her insides. Amanda hadn’t been around much the last few years, it was true. And she should have been. She knew that, too. It had been just Amanda, Pam and their father, since her mother had died years before and the three of them had sort of drifted apart. For the rest of her life, she knew she’d regret not spending more time with her dad when she had the chance.

But she had grown up in the diner just as Pam had. Changing things wasn’t easy for her, either. A part of her hated getting rid of things that her father had put in place. But times changed whether you wanted them to or not.

“Dad told us himself that when he took over the diner from his father, he made lots of changes,” she argued, defending the new, still red—but unscarred red—counter and tables.

Pam scowled at her. “That’s not the point.”

Amanda took a deep breath and inhaled the aroma of fresh coffee, eggs and bacon. “Then what is the point, Pam? You asked me to come home and help, remember?”

“Help, not take over.”

Okay, maybe she had been a little quick with changes. Maybe she hadn’t taken the time to include her sister in decisions being made. That was her fault and she was willing to take the blame for it. In her defense, Pam had made herself scarce since Amanda got back to town. But, if she mentioned that, it would only start a new argument, so she let it go.

“You’re right,” Amanda said and watched surprise flicker in her sister’s eyes. “I should have talked to you about the menus. About the countertops and tables and I didn’t. I just …” She paused to look around the diner before adding, “I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d missed this place. And when I got home, I just dove right in.”

“I can’t believe you missed the diner,” Pam muttered.

Amanda laughed. “I know. Me, neither. You and I spent so much time working here as kids, who knew that I’d look forward to working here again?”

Pam sighed and leaned against the counter. She shot a frown at Hank, who was still listening in. The old man rolled his eyes and looked away.

“It’s good you’re here,” Pam finally said. “And between the two of us, we should be able to both run the diner and have lives.”

“We will,” Amanda said, smiling a little at the tiny bridge suddenly springing up between the sisters.

“But it is the two of us, Amanda,” Pam told her firmly. “You don’t get to make all the decisions and then let me find out later when the new menus arrive.”

“Absolutely,” she said. “You’re right. I should have talked to you and I will from now on.”

“Good.” Pam nodded. “That’s good. Now, I’m heading out. I’ve got a line on a new supplier of organic vegetables and—”

Amanda smiled and let her mind wander while her sister rattled off information on local farmers. Her gaze slid across the familiar faces filling the diner, then drifted out to the street beyond the wide glass windows. Main Street in Royal. Sidewalks crowded with early shoppers. Cars parked haphazardly along the curb. The sheriff stepping off the sidewalk, headed for the diner.

Sheriff. Headed for the diner.

Amanda’s heart jumped in her chest. Her mouth went dry and her gaze locked on the one man in the world she couldn’t seem to forget.

Nathan knew it was past time to face Amanda.

He left the sheriff’s office with his deputy, Red Hawkins, in charge and stepped out onto Main Street. The morning was clear and promised another red-hot day. Summer in Texas was already off to a blistering start. The sun was a ball of fire looking to combust.

God, he loved it.

Walking down the sidewalk, his boots clattering out a sharp rhythm, Nathan nodded at those he passed and paused to hold a door for Macy Harris as she struggled to carry a baby and cling to her toddler’s hand.

This was his place. Where he belonged. He’d actually had to leave and spend a few years in Houston as a city cop to figure that out. But now that he was back, Nathan knew he’d never leave Royal again. He’d found his place and damned if he was going to let Amanda Altman make him uncomfortable in it.

He loped across the street, dodging the occasional car, and headed straight for the Royal Diner.

The place was a landmark in town. He could remember going there as a kid with his folks and then later, as a teenager, he’d gathered there with his friends after football games and on long, boring summer afternoons.

It was the unofficial heart of town, which meant that at any time during the day, there would be a crowd inside. A crowd that would watch his and Amanda’s first meeting with interest.

“Well, hell,” he muttered as he marched up to the glass door. “Might as well get it done and let the gossips loose.”

He pulled the door open, stepped inside and stopped, letting his gaze slide over the familiar surroundings. Mostly familiar, he corrected silently.

The walls had been painted. No longer a bright white that seemed to sear your eyes on a hot summer day, the walls were now a soft green, dotted with framed photos of Royal through the years. The counter had been changed, too—the old chipped and scarred red was now a shining sweep of a deeper, richer red. The black-and-white checked floors had been polished and the red vinyl booth seats had all been revamped. There were new chairs pulled up to the scatter of tables and sunshine streamed through the windows lining Main Street.

But none of it really mattered to him.

How could it?

He was too focused on the woman standing behind that new counter, staring at him.

Amanda Altman.

Damn. She looked way too good.

Nathan took a breath, forcing air into lungs suddenly starving for sustenance. He hadn’t really expected to feel the rush of heat swamping him. He’d convinced himself he was over her. Had forgotten what it had been like to be with her.

Big mistake.

“Hello, Nathan.”

“Amanda,” he said and ignored the swell of whispers sliding around the room as if carried along by a west Texas wind.

She moved toward the end of the counter, positioning herself behind the cash register. Defensive move?

Oddly enough, that eased him some. Knowing she was no happier about this public meeting than he was took some of the pressure off. In fact, he thought, it sort of tossed the power back into his lap.

She was new here. Okay, yeah, she’d grown up in Royal, just as he had. But Nathan had been here for the last three years and she’d been back in town only a couple of weeks. He’d made his place here and she was still treading water.

With that thought firmly in mind, he walked toward her and noted her chin came up defiantly. Damned if he hadn’t missed that stubborn move of hers.

“Morning, Nathan,” Pam chirped loudly. “We’ve missed you in here lately.”

“Been busy,” he said and ignored Hank Bristow’s snort of derision.

“You want your usual?”

“That’d be good, Pam, thanks,” he said, his gaze never leaving Amanda’s.

She looked the same and yet…different. Maybe it was just that she was older now. Maybe it was the fact that her eyes weren’t shining with adoration when she looked up at him. Didn’t matter, he assured himself. Amanda was his past, in spite of his body’s reaction to her.

“So,” he said, knowing everyone in the diner was holding their breath, waiting to hear what might happen next, “you back to stay or this just a visit?”

Pam walked up to him then and handed him a to-go cup filled with black coffee. He didn’t even glance at her as he took it and reached into his pocket for cash.

“On the house,” Amanda told him.

“Not necessary,” Nathan said and laid a couple of dollars on the counter. “You didn’t answer the question, Amanda. You here to stay or just blowin’ through?”

“I’m home to stay, Nathan,” Amanda said. “I hope that won’t be a problem for you.”

He laughed shortly, and took a sip of coffee. Deliberately then, he said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Why would that be a problem for me, Amanda? You and I are long since done.”

He could almost see every customer in the place perking up their ears and leaning in closer so as not to miss a single word.

“You’re right,” Amanda said, lifting her chin even higher. “We’re not kids anymore. There’s no reason why we can’t be friendly.”

Friendly? His entire body was jittering with heat and she thought they could be friends? Not a chance. But he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

“None at all,” Nathan agreed tightly.

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled,” she said.

“Me, too.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hank muttered with a snort. “We can all see that this has worked out fine.”

“Butt out, Hank,” Nathan told him and turned for the door.

“Walk me to my car, Nathan?” Pam blurted and had him stopping for one last look behind him. But instead of seeing the woman headed toward him, his gaze darted straight to Amanda and he felt a surge of heat zap him.

The past might be dead and gone, but whatever hummed between them had just enough life left in it to be annoying.

When Pam threaded her arm through his, Nathan led her out and didn’t bother looking back again.

Two

“That went well,” Amanda told herself as she entered the tiny apartment over the diner that was now home.

All day, she’d been thinking about that brief, all-too-public meeting with Nathan. Which was, she thought grimly, probably exactly what he’d been hoping for. Nathan had always been the kind of man to assume command of any given situation. He was the take-charge type and so it was like him to make sure their first meeting was just the way he wanted it. That’s why he’d come into the diner during the morning bustle—so that there would be so many witnesses to their conversation, neither one of them could really talk.

Honestly, the man hadn’t changed a bit. Still stiff-necked and hardheaded. She’d seen that familiar, stony glint in his eye that morning and known the minute he opened his mouth that nothing between them would be settled. But then, she thought, why would it be?

She dropped onto an overstuffed, floral sofa that was older than she was, and propped her feet on the narrow coffee table in front of her. The romance novel she was currently reading lay beside an old ceramic pitcher filled with daisies and bluebells. Their scent was a soft sigh of summer in the too-warm room and, not for the first time, Amanda wished the apartment boasted more than a thirty-year-old air conditioner with a habit of shutting down every now and then for no particular reason.

The sofa held bright, boldly colored accent pillows and the two chairs in the room were more comfortable to look at than they were for sitting. There were pictures on the walls, a few throw rugs across the scarred wooden floor and the walls were still the dusty sand color Amanda’s mother had preferred.

Folding her arms over her chest, Amanda stared up at the lazily spinning ceiling fan. A tired breeze of air sulkily drifted over her. This little apartment above the diner was like a security blanket. Her parents had lived here when they first married and opened the diner. Then later, they’d rented it out, furnished, to different people over the years. Pam had lived here for a while, then it had been Amanda’s turn while she was in college. Having her own place had given her the chance to find her independence while staying close enough to home to feel safe.

Plus, she and Nathan had met here a lot back in those days. Those memories were imprinted on the tiny apartment, with its outdated, yet cozy furniture. If she tried, Amanda thought she’d be able to hear his voice, whispering to her in the dark.

She didn’t try.

Instead, she concentrated on what he’d had to say that morning. Or rather what he hadn’t said.

“He didn’t want to talk anything through,” she said to the empty room and paused, as if waiting for the shadows to agree with her. “He only wanted to let me know that seeing me again meant nothing. He was trying to lay down the rules. Just like before. He tells you what things will be like, lays out his orders, then steps back, giving you room to follow them.”

Well, he was in for a shock. She didn’t take orders anymore. In fact, looking back at the girl she had once been made her nearly cringe. Back then, she’d been young enough and in love enough, that she had never once argued with Nathan—at least until that last night. When he announced his choice of a movie, she hadn’t said she hated action movies. She’d never told him that she didn’t like going to car shows or that she found fishing to be the most boring activity in the world.

Nope. Instead, Amanda had sat through countless movies where the only storyline revolved around demolition. She’d spent interminably long days watching Nathan fish in local streams and rivers and she didn’t want to think about the hours lost staring at car engines.

Looking back now, Amanda couldn’t believe how completely she’d given herself up to Nathan. Then, he was all she had cared about. All she thought about. And when everything fell apart between them…she’d had no idea what to do with herself.

It had taken a while to find her feet. To find Amanda. But she’d done it and there was no going back now—even if she wanted to, which she so did not.

Lifting her chin, she narrowed her eyes on the fan blades as if facing down Nathan himself. “I’m all grown up now, Nathan. I’m not going to roll over and speak on command. I don’t need you anymore.”

As her own words rang out in the room, Amanda gave a tight smile. Good words. Now if she could just believe them.

Oh, she didn’t need Nathan like she had then. Like she had needed air. Water. No, now what she needed was to get rid of the memories. To clear Nathan Battle out of her mind and heart once and for all, so she could move on. So she could stop remembering that when things were good between them, they were very good.

What she had to concentrate on, she told herself firmly as she leaped off the couch to pace the confines of the small living area, was the bad parts. The times Nathan had made her crazy. The dictatorial Nathan who had tried to make every decision for her. The man who had insisted they marry because she was pregnant, then the minute that pregnancy was over, had walked away from her so fast, she’d seen nothing but a blur.

That was what she had to remember. The pain of not only losing the baby she’d had such dreams for, but also realizing that the man she loved wasn’t the man she’d thought he was.

If she could just do that, she’d be fine.

She walked to the galley-style kitchen and rummaged in the fridge for some of yesterday’s leftovers. Working with food all day pretty much ensured that she wasn’t hungry enough to cook for herself in the evening. But tonight, pickings were slim. A bowl of the diner’s five-star chili, a few sandwiches and a plate of double-stuffed baked potatoes that hadn’t sold the day before.

None of it looked tempting, but she knew she had to eat. So she grabbed the potatoes—and a bottle of chardonnay—then closed the fridge. She pulled out a cookie sheet, lined the potatoes up on it and put it in the oven. Once the temperature was set, she poured herself a glass of wine and carried it with her to the doll-sized bathroom.

It only took her a few minutes to shower and change into a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a tank top. Then she took her wine and walked barefoot back to the living room to wait for dinner.

The crisp, cold wine made the waiting easier to take. Heck, it even made thoughts of Nathan less…disturbing. What did it say about her, she wondered, that even when she was furious with the man, she still felt that buzz of something amazing?

Sad, sad Amanda.

In the years since she and Nathan had broken up, she hadn’t exactly lived like a nun. She’d had dates. Just not many. But how could she think about a future when the past kept rising up in her mind? It always came back to Nathan. When she met a man, she waited, hoping to feel that special zing she had only found with Nathan. And it was never there.

How could she possibly agree to marry someone else if Nathan was the one who made her body burn? Was she supposed to settle? Impossible. She wanted what she’d once had. She just wanted it with someone else.

Heck, she had known Nathan was there the minute he’d walked into the diner. She hadn’t had to see him. She’d felt his presence—like the electricity in the air just before a thunderstorm. And that first look into his eyes had jolted her so badly, it had been all she could do to lock her knees into place so she wouldn’t melt into an embarrassing puddle of goo.

No one else had ever done that to her.

Only him.

She took a sip of her wine and shook her head. “This is not a good sign, Amanda.”

It had been years since she’d seen him, touched him, and it might as well have been yesterday from the way her own body was reacting. Every cell inside her was jumping up and down, rolling out the red carpet and putting on a party hat.

But there weren’t going to be any parties. Not with Nathan, at any rate. She’d never get him out of her system if she let him back in.

Trying to distract herself from the hormonal rodeo going on inside her, she walked to one of the windows overlooking Main Street and looked out at Royal. Only a few cars on the road and almost no pedestrians. The silence was staggering. Streetlights dropped puddles of yellow light on the empty sidewalks and, above the town, a clear night sky displayed thousands of stars.

Life in a small town was vastly different than what she’d known the last few years living in Dallas. There, the city bustled with life all night. Shops and clubs and bars glittered with neon lights so bright, they blotted out the stars overhead. Tourists flocked to the city to spend their money, and the nightlife was as busy as the daytime crowds.

It had been so different from the way she’d grown up, such a distraction from the pain she was in—Amanda had really enjoyed city life. At first. But over time, she had become just another nameless person rushing through the crowds, going from work to an apartment and back again the next day. Nights were crowded with noise and people and the gradual realization that she wasn’t happy.

Her life had become centered around a job she didn’t really like and a nightlife she didn’t actually enjoy. She had a few friends and a few dates that always seemed to end badly—probably her own fault since she never had been able to meet a man without comparing him to Nathan. Pitiful, really, but there it was.

Then her father passed away and, a few months later, she got the call for help from Pam. Even knowing that she would have to eventually deal with Nathan again, Amanda had left the big city behind and rushed back home to Royal.

And she had slid back into life here as easily as if she’d never left. The truth was, she was really a small-town girl at heart.

She liked a town where nighttime brought quiet and families gathered together. She liked knowing that she was safe—without having to have two or three locks on her apartment door. And, right now, she liked knowing that she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone until at least tomorrow morning.

She could have stayed at her family home, where Pam was living. But Amanda had become accustomed to having her own space. Besides, as evidenced by her sister’s behavior today, just because Pam had needed her help didn’t mean that she wanted Amanda around. She’d never been close with her sister and, so far, that situation looked as though it wasn’t going to change any.

She took another sip of her wine and let that thought, along with all the thoughts of Nathan, slide from her mind. She wasn’t going to solve everything in one night, so why drive herself nuts?

Her gaze slid to the darkened sheriff’s office. No one was there, of course. In a town the size of Royal, you didn’t need an on-duty police presence twenty-four hours a day. Besides, Nathan and his deputy were only a phone call away.

She wondered if Nathan still lived out on his family’s ranch, the Battlelands. Then she reminded herself firmly it was none of her business where Nathan lived.

“Thinking about him is not the way to stop thinking about him,” she told herself aloud.

The scent of melting cheese and roasting potatoes was beginning to fill the air and her stomach rumbled. Apparently she was hungrier than she had thought.

When the knock sounded on her door, she was more surprised than anything else. She took a step forward, then stopped, staring at the door leading to the outside staircase at the side of the diner. A ripple of something familiar sneaked across her skin and she took a gulp of her wine to ease the sensation. Didn’t really help. But then, nothing could. Because she knew who was knocking on her door.

When she was steady enough, she walked to the door and asked unnecessarily, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Amanda.” It was Nathan’s voice, low and commanding. “Open up.”

Wow. Skitters of expectation jolted through her. Amazing that just his voice could do that to her. After all these years, he could still stir her up without even trying.

She put one hand flat against the door and she could have sworn that she actually felt heat sliding through the wood. She took a breath, smoothed out her voice and tried to do the same for her racing heart. It didn’t work.

“What do you want, Nathan?” she asked, leaning her forehead against the door panel.

“What I want is to not be standing out here talking through a door where anyone in Royal can see me.”

Not that there were a lot of people out there at night. But all it would take was one busybody happening to glance up and word would fly all over town. Nathan was at Amanda’s doorstep last night!

Okay, she thought, straightening, good motivation for opening the door. So she did.

Under the porch light, his brown hair looked lighter, his shoulders looked broader and his eyes…too shadowed to read. But then, she thought, it wasn’t difficult to guess what he was thinking, feeling. His stance was stiff, his jaw tight. He looked as though he’d rather be anywhere but there.

Well, fine. She hadn’t invited him, had she? “What is it, Nathan?”

He scowled at her and stepped inside.

“Please,” she said, sarcasm dripping as she closed the door against the hot, humid air, “come in.”

“We have to talk,” he said, striding across the room before turning to face her. “And damned if I’m going to do it in the diner with everyone in town listening in.”

Her fingers tightened on her wineglass. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have come into the diner this morning.”

“Maybe,” he muttered and stuffed both hands into the pockets of his jeans. “But I needed some decent coffee.”

She hadn’t expected that. But he looked so disgusted, so…frustrated, Amanda laughed. His head snapped up, his gaze boring into hers.

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head as another laugh bubbled out. “But really? Coffee is what finally brought you in?”

“I’ve been getting mine at the gas station.”

“Poor guy,” she said, and he frowned at the humor in her voice.

“You can laugh. But I don’t think Charlie’s so much as rinsed out that coffeepot of his in twenty years.” He grimaced at the thought and made Amanda smile again.

Shaking his head, he nodded at the wine in her hand. “You have any more of that?”

“I do. Also have beer, if you’d rather.”

“Yeah, that’d be good.” Some of the tension left his shoulders and one corner of his mouth tilted up into what might have been a half smile if it hadn’t disappeared so fast.

She walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. Amanda paused for a second to get her bearings. The moment she’d been dreading for years was finally here. Nathan and her were together again. Alone. And there was just no telling what might happen next. But whatever it was, she thought, at least it would be something. Better than the vacuum they’d been in for the last few years. Better than the rigid silence that had stretched between them since she came back to Royal.

With that thought in mind, she walked to the living room, handed him the cold bottle, then took a seat on the couch. Mainly because her knees felt a little wobbly.

Looking up at him, she watched as he opened the beer and took a drink. He looked so good it was irritating. His skin was tanned and there was a slightly paler line across the top of his forehead where his hat usually rested. His brown eyes were watchful as he glanced around the apartment, no doubt taking in everything in that all-encompassing sweep. She wondered if he was remembering all the nights they’d been together, here in this room. Could he still hear the whispered words between them? Probably not, she thought. Nathan wouldn’t want to be reminded of a past that had no bearing on his life anymore.

She studied him as he studied the apartment. He wore scuffed brown boots, blue jeans and a short-sleeved, dark green T-shirt with Battlelands Ranch emblazoned on the shirt pocket. He stood stiff and straight as if awaiting a military inspection.

He was off-duty and yet everything about him screamed police. Nathan was just that kind of man. Devoted to duty, he preferred order to chaos, rules to confusion. He would take a road trip and stay on the highway, where Amanda would prefer the back roads, stopping at everything interesting along the way. No wonder they had clashed.

And even knowing all of that, she still felt the rush of attraction that she couldn’t deny. She wanted to be immune to him and, clearly, she wasn’t.

But this was exactly why she needed to be here. Because until she was immune to Nathan Battle, she’d never be able to move on. Instead, she’d go on being haunted by memories, by thoughts of what might have been.

He took another drink of his beer and looked down at the bottle in his hand. “I was sorry about your dad.”

She blinked against the sudden sting of tears. The one thing she hadn’t expected from Nathan was kindness. It was…disarming. “Thanks. I miss him.”

“Yeah, he was a good man.”

“He was.” Safe ground. Talk about their families. Don’t mention the tension coiled so tightly between them.

“Why did you come back?”

And there was the Nathan she knew best. So much for the pleasantries—it was on to Round One. “Excuse me?”

“Well, hell, Amanda.” He frowned down at her and looked a little surprised that she didn’t seem affected by his displeasure. “You were gone for years. Why come back at all?”

“Are you in charge of Royal’s borders now, Sheriff?” she asked. “Do people have to check in with you before they move in?”

“I didn’t say that.”

She pushed to her feet. Even though she stood five foot ten, she was forced to tip her head back to meet his gaze, but she did it. “Royal’s my home as much as it is yours, Nathan Battle.”

“Couldn’t tell from how you acted,” he said, completely ignoring the hard glare she fired at him.

“I seem to recall you living in Houston for quite a while. Were you interrogated when you moved back home?”

“I’m not interrogating you, Amanda,” he countered. “I’m just asking a damn question.”

“That you already know the answer to,” she shot back. “Pam needed help with the diner. I came home. That’s the story. None of this concerns you, Nathan. This is my business.”

“Damn straight it is, but now that you’re back, it’s my business, too.” He stood as still and cold as a statue.

“How do you figure?”

“I’m the sheriff here. This is where I live. For you to come back now and start stirring things—”

“What am I stirring, Nathan?” she interrupted, and saw with a jolt of glee that he still hated being cut off. It infuriated her to remember that in the old days. She’d have shut her mouth so he could keep talking. Well, that time was gone. “I’m working at my family’s diner.”

“And getting tongues wagging again,” he pointed out.

“Please. People in Royal gossip about everything. I didn’t have to be here to have them talk about me.”

“They’re not talking about you,” he elaborated grimly. “They’re talking about us.”

“There is no us,” she said flatly, and was surprised by the twinge of pain that clutched at her heart.

“I know that and you know that, but the folks in town—”

“Forget about them,” she interrupted again.

He took a long deep breath from between clenched teeth. “Easy for you to say. But as sheriff, I need to have the respect of the people I’m protecting. I don’t like being the subject of gossip.”

“Then tell them that. Why tell me?”

“Because if you leave, it’ll stop.”

She set her wineglass down before she was tempted to throw it at his rock-hard head. “I’m not leaving. And, it’ll never stop, Nathan.”

That statement hit him hard. She saw the proof of it flicker in his eyes. But she wasn’t finished.

“Until we’re ninety, people around here will be speculating and remembering.…”

“Damn it, Amanda, I want you out of town.”

“And I want you to stop caring what other people think,” she snapped. “I guess we’re both doomed to disappointment.”

He set his beer bottle on the table beside her glass and moved in on her. He was so tall, he didn’t have to put much effort into looming. She supposed it just came naturally to a man used to having his own way. A man accustomed to telling people what to do and having them do it.

It might have worked on her years ago, Amanda told herself, but no more. She was her own woman now. She made her own choices and decisions and lived with the consequences. She wouldn’t be ordered out of town and she wouldn’t be scared off by a big, gorgeous sheriff with eyes as cold as a winter wind.

“If you think you’re worrying me, you’re wrong.”

“I don’t want you worried.”

“Good, because—”

“I don’t want you at all.”

Direct hit, she thought, as an icy fist slammed into her chest and squeezed her heart. But she wouldn’t let him see it. “I don’t want you, either, Nathan. I’m not that young girl anymore, dazzled because Nathan Battle noticed her. I’m not going to follow you around all doe-eyed, hoping for a smile from you. I’m—”

He grabbed her, yanked her close and kissed her with a fierce desperation that was fueled by desire and anger, all twisted up together. She could feel it in him as she felt it in herself. Past and present tangled together and memories were as thick as honey on a winter morning.

But those memories were swamped by all of the new sensations coursing through her. Amanda didn’t try to pull free. Didn’t pretend that she wasn’t as hungry for him as he was for her. Instead, she moved into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and held on.

This is what she’d missed for so long. This man’s touch. His kiss. The feel of his hard, strong body pushed up close against hers. She parted her lips for him and took him inside her. When he groaned and held her even tighter, Amanda felt bolts of heat shoot through her system like a summer lightning storm. So much electricity between them. So much heat.

Was it any wonder they had flashed and burned out too quickly?

His hands slid up and down her back, holding her, pressing her as close as he could. His mouth took hers again and again, and she met every stroke of his tongue with eager abandon. God, she’d missed him. Missed them. She had found nothing that could compare to what happened when they came together. No other man she’d ever met could compare to Nathan. Which meant that she was in very deep trouble.

Her mind raced even as her body lit up like a sparkler factory. This was a huge mistake. Falling into Nathan’s arms was not the way to get over him. But right now, all she was interested in was feeling her body come back to life as if waking up after a seven-year nap. Her skin tingled, her heartbeat crashing in her chest, and in the pit of her belly, heat settled and began to spread.

What was wrong with her, anyway?

Three

When Nathan suddenly released her and took one long step back and away, Amanda swayed unsteadily and gasped for air like a drowning woman. Her mouth burned from his kiss and her body was trembling.

“See?” he practically growled at her. “This is why you shouldn’t have come back home.”

“What?” She blinked up at him and saw that, once again, Nathan’s expression seemed to be etched into stone. He looked hard, untouchable and about as passionate as a slab of granite. How did he turn it on and off like that? And could he teach her how to do it?

“I kissed you and you were all over me.”

A sudden spurt of ice water flowed through her veins and put out all the lingering fires inside. Maybe he wouldn’t have to teach her after all.

“Excuse me? I was all over you?” She took a step closer and stabbed her index finger at him. “Just who grabbed who, here? Who came to whose house? Who started kissing?”

His mouth worked and his lips thinned into a tight line. “Not the point.”

“It’s exactly the point, Nathan.” Furious now, more at herself for falling so easily into old habits than at him, Amanda said, “Just like before, you came after me. You started all of this, then and now.”

“And I’m going to end it.”

Hurt raged inside, but was soon swallowed by a wave of fury. He decided when to start things. When to end things. And she was supposed to go quietly along. Nathan Battle, Master of the Universe.

“Big surprise. You like ending things, don’t you?”

His eyes narrowed on her and his jaw muscle twitched so violently she was pretty sure he was grinding his teeth into powder. Well, good. She’d hate to think she was the only furious one in the room.

“I’m not the one who ended it seven years ago,” he finally said, his voice a low throb of barely leashed anger.

“Not how I remember it,” Amanda countered, the sting of that long-ago night still as fresh as if it had happened just yesterday. “You’re the one who walked out.”

“It’s what you wanted.” His gaze drilled into hers.

She met him glare for glare. “How would you know, Nathan? You never asked me what I wanted.”

“This is pointless.”

A long minute or two of tense silence stretched out between them. The only sound—the oven timer going off—rang out like a bell at a boxing match signaling the end of a round.

It worked to jolt both of them out of their defensive stances and a second later, Nathan was heading for her door. When he got there, he paused and turned back to look at her.

“This town chews on gossip every day, but I’m not going to be gnawed on.”

“Good for you!” She picked up her wine and took a swallow she didn’t really want before setting the glass down again. If he thought she was looking forward to being the topic of whispered conversations, he was nuts.

“The Battle family has a reputation in this town—”

“And the Altmans aren’t in your circle, are we?” she interrupted again and felt a small swift tug of pleasure, knowing it irritated him.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Walking toward him, Amanda glared up into his dark brown eyes. “I’m amazed you ever deigned to propose to me in the first place.”

If possible, she thought his eyes actually went black for a second or two. How twisted was she that she still thought him the most gorgeous man on the planet?

“You were carrying my child,” he told her flatly.

That statement, said with such frigid control, sliced at her like a blade and Amanda fought against the pain.

They hadn’t spoken about their lost baby since the night he’d walked out on her. For him to bring it up now…“That was low.”

He paused for a long minute or so, just studying her through narrowed eyes. “Yeah, it was.” He scrubbed one hand across his face. “Damn it, Amanda, we’ve got to find a way to live in this town together.”

She slid her hands up and down her arms. Funny—even with the hot, humid air of summer, she felt a chill. Maybe it was him being here, so close. Maybe it had been the loss of heat when their kiss ended. And maybe, she thought, it was because of the memories he’d brought up and waved in her face.

The memory of the child she’d carried and lost. The baby she had wanted so badly. Whatever it was, she wanted to be alone until that icy sensation was gone. She needed time to herself. To think. To regroup. And she couldn’t do that until she convinced Nathan to leave.

“I’m guessing you have a plan,” she said with a sigh.

“Damn straight, I do,” he told her. “We go about our business. We live our lives. If we see each other, it’s friendly, but distant. No more private chats. No—”

“Kissing?” she finished for him.

“Yeah. No more of that.”

“Fine. Agreed.” She threw both hands high. “Nathan’s rules of behavior. Will you print me out a copy? I’ll sign it. You want it notarized, too?”

“Funny.”

“Well, blast it, Nathan, you haven’t changed a bit. Still issuing orders and expecting them to be followed. Who made you the grand pooh-bah of the Western world?”

“Pooh-bah?”

She ignored that. “You come to my house. You kiss me. Then you lay down rules for me to live my life by and what? You expected me to just salute and say, ‘Yes, sir’?”

“Would’ve been nice,” he muttered.

She laughed. In spite of everything. “Yeah, well, not going to happen.”

“You make me crazy,” he admitted, shaking his head slowly. “You always did.”

His voice was softer, deeper, and his eyes held a heat she remembered too well. So she stiffened her spine, refusing to be swayed by the urges she felt deep within her.

“Good to know,” Amanda said, tipping her head back to look into his eyes. “That’s some consolation, anyway.”

He blew out a breath and muttered something she didn’t quite catch before saying, “Fine. No rules. We go along. Stay out of each other’s way.”

“Fine.”

“Eventually, people will stop talking or waiting for something to happen between us and—”

“You’re still doing it,” Amanda interrupted.

“Doing what?”

“Making rules. Setting down how things will be,” she said. Tipping her head to one side, she stared up at him in complete frustration. “You can’t regulate life, Nathan. It just…happens.”

Like losing a baby you had loved from the moment of conception. That familiar twinge of pain, muted slightly because of time and her deliberate attempts to bury it, twisted inside her briefly.

“Unacceptable.”

“You don’t get to make that call, Nathan,” she said softly.

“You’re wrong.” His eyes were hard, flinty chips of frozen chocolate. Whatever softness had been there before had completely dissipated. “My life moves just as I want it to. No exceptions.” He paused. “Not anymore.”

There it was, she thought. Once upon a time, she had been the exception to Nathan’s carefully laid-out life. She’d thrown a wrench into his plans, made him scramble for a new strategy and then it had all fallen apart again. This time, though, she was older—and wiser, she hoped—and she wouldn’t be sucked into Nathan’s tidily arranged world. She preferred her life messy. She liked the adventure of not really knowing what to expect.

Of course, then scenes like tonight would probably rise up again to torture her, but that was a risk she’d rather take. Better than having your life plotted out on a ledger sheet, with no surprises, no jolts of pleasure or pain.

“Royal’s a small town,” he was saying and Amanda pushed her thoughts aside to pay attention. “But not so small that we can’t comfortably ignore each other.”

“That’s how you want this to play out?” she asked. “We each pretend the other doesn’t exist?”

“Better that way,” he said.

“For who?”

He didn’t answer. He just opened the door and said, “Goodbye, Amanda.”

The sound of his boots on the stairs rang out like a too-fast heartbeat. A few seconds later, she heard a car engine fire up and then he was driving away.

Amanda closed her door on the world, wandered to the kitchen and retrieved the stuffed potatoes that were just a little too well-done. She idly stood there and watched steam lift off her dinner and twist in the barely moving air.

“Damn it,” she whispered and stared through the window to the night beyond the glass. Her dinner was burned, her stomach was spinning and her temper was at war with her hormones.

Nathan was a force of nature. One that apparently was destined to crash in and out of her life whether she wanted him to or not. And the worst part?

“He walked away. Again.”

She poured a fresh glass of wine, forced herself to eat the overdone potatoes and promised herself the next time she and Nathan were in the same room, she would be the one doing the walking.

The Battlelands Ranch glowed in the darkness. It stood like a proud dowager, waiting to welcome home its prodigal children. Practically every window shone with lamplight. Even the outbuildings—the barn, the foreman’s house and Nathan’s own place—boasted porch lights that formed brightly lit pathways.

Just like always, Nathan felt tension slide away as he drove down the oak-lined drive and steered his 4Runner toward the house he’d had built for himself when he moved back to Royal. He might not be a rancher these days, but the land was in his blood as much as it was in his younger brother Jacob’s. The Battles had been on this land for more than a hundred and fifty years. They’d carved out every acre. Bled for it. Wept for it, and managed to hold on to it through all the bad times that had come their way.

The heart of the main ranch house was the original structure, a stately Victorian that the first Battle in Texas had built more than a hundred and fifty years ago to please his new bride. Over the years, that turreted, gingerbread-adorned structure had been added to, with wings spreading from each side and spilling into the back. Most of the ranch houses in the area were more modern, of course. Some mansions, some simple houses, they were all interchangeable in Nathan’s eyes.

This place was unique because the Battles didn’t tear something down just because it was old. They fixed it, improved on it and kept it, always to remind them of where they’d come from. Now that stately old Victorian was the centerpiece of a ranch bigger and more prosperous than that first Battle could ever have dreamed.

Gnarled, twisted live oaks stood like ancient soldiers on either side of the drive and gathered in clumps along the front and rear of the house. As Nathan parked his car and climbed out, he heard the swish of leaves in the grudgingly moving hot air.

From the main house came the sharp, clear sound of children’s laughter, and Nathan smiled to himself. Lots of changes here at the Battlelands—mostly thanks to Jacob and his wife, Terri. They and their three kids were making this place come alive again as it hadn’t since Nathan and Jake were kids themselves.

He glanced quickly at the wading pool and the nearby wooden swing set and climbing gym he’d helped Jacob put together for the kids. That laughter spilled from the house again and Nathan instinctively quelled the small twist of envy he felt for what his brother had. He knew Jake was happy. He had a family and the ranch he loved and Nathan didn’t begrudge him any of it.

Still, it was a stunner that his younger brother had a wife and kids, but Jake had taken to life as a family man as easily as he had assumed control of the ranch years ago.

Nathan loved the place and it would always be home to him, but the ranch had never been at the heart of him as it had for Jake. As long as Nathan could remember, he had wanted to be a cop, while Jake wanted nothing more than to ride the range, and deal with the cattle grazing on the thousands of acres the family claimed. It had worked out well, Nathan told himself. Didn’t matter that he was the eldest. It was enough for Nathan that the Battlelands was in good hands—even if those hands weren’t his.

And, since Terri was pregnant again, Nathan knew that the family ranch was going to be in Battle hands for many more years to come. He couldn’t help wondering what Jake thought of that, if his brother ever sat down and realized that his sons and daughters would be working the same land that had been handed down to him.

That twist of envy grabbed at him again and Nathan couldn’t help wondering how his life might be right now if Amanda had carried their child to term. Would they still be together? Would there be more children? He tried to imagine it, but couldn’t quite pull it off.

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