She squared her shoulders. “We can’t do this again.”

He stood. “I won’t endanger your job. I promise.”

She swallowed and tried to convince herself it was what she wanted. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“I won’t, however, promise not to kiss you again.”

Any protest she might have made was thwarted by his fingers caressing her cheek. The next moment, he was gone, walking down the dark road toward the bunkhouse.

Natalie touched her face, which still tingled from his caress.

If Aaron were a man of his word, and she highly suspected he was, she would have to guard herself diligently.

A girl could only resist the man of her dreams for so long.

Dear Reader,

We hope you already know that Harlequin American Romance publishes heartwarming stories about the comforts of home and the joys of family. To celebrate our 25th year of publishing great books, we’re pleased to present a special miniseries that sings the praises of the home state of six different authors, and shares the many trials and delights of being a parent.

Bear Creek Ranch in Cathy McDavid’s Cowboy Dad was inspired by a real guest ranch visited by the author just outside of Wickenburg, Arizona. Cathy says, “The moment we started down the long winding road leading into the ranch, I felt as if I’d stepped into a storybook.” And so begins this touching story of a widowed cowboy who, much to his surprise, learns to love again.

There are five other books in the series. We hope you didn’t miss Tina Leonard’s Texas Lullaby (June 08) or Smoky Mountain Reunion by Lynnette Kent (July 08). And next month watch for Tanya Michaels’ A Dad for Her Twins. Set in steamy Atlanta, this wonderful story is about second chances, doing what’s right for your kids—and what’s right for you. Watch for other books by authors Margot Early and Laura Marie Altom.

We hope these romantic stories inspire you to celebrate where you live—because any place you raise a child is home.

Wishing you happy reading,

Kathleen Scheibling

Harlequin American Romance

Cowboy Dad
Cathy McDavid

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

For the past eleven years Cathy McDavid has been juggling a family, a job and writing, and has been doing pretty well at it except for the cooking and housecleaning part. Mother of boy and girl teenaged twins, she manages the near impossible by working every day with her husband of twenty years at their commercial construction company. They survive by not bringing work home and not bringing home to the office. A mutual love of all things Western also helps. Horses and ranch animals have been a part of Cathy’s life since she moved to Arizona as a child and asked her mother for riding lessons. She can hardly remember a time when she couldn’t walk outside and pet a soft, velvety nose (or beak, or snout) whenever the mood struck. You can visit her Web site at www.cathymcdavid.com.

To Paula Eykelhof,

who saw something in that first Harlequin American

proposal and helped launch me

on the career of my dreams, and to

Kathleen Scheibling, a remarkably skilled editor

with an extraordinary eye who has

guided me through four books thus far

and I hope many more to come.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

Natalie Forrester stood on the sweeping front porch and watched the old truck rumble down the long road, its tires kicking up a cloud of brown dust. The truck pulled a dilapidated horse trailer that rattled and banged as if it might fall apart with each pothole it hit.

As manager of guest services at Bear Creek Ranch, Natalie considered herself quite adept at determining a visitor’s purpose based on the vehicle they drove. This fellow, in his seen-better-days pickup, was either a local from nearby Payson or a cowboy looking for work. Since she didn’t recognize the vehicle, cowboy got her vote. Her hunch grew stronger when the driver continued through the ranch in the direction of the barn and corrals.

Whoever he was, he’d be disappointed when he met Natalie’s father, head of the resort’s guest amenities. Bear Creek Ranch was fully staffed for the upcoming season, scheduled to begin in a mere ten days.

And speaking of the upcoming season, Natalie had a lot of work ahead of her. Break time was over. Her feet, however, refused to heed her brain’s command to turn around and march inside. The weather was unusually warm for February, the afternoon particularly balmy. According to the thermometer hanging by the front door of the main lodge, the temperature hovered in the mid-sixties. Quite nice, even for the southern edge of Arizona’s rim country, which enjoyed considerably milder winters than its northern counterpart.

Natalie leaned her shoulder against a column built from a tree that had been harvested in the nearby woods about the time President John F. Kennedy took office. The wood, once rough and unfinished, had been worn smooth through the decades by thousands of shoulders belonging to the guests of Bear Creek Ranch.

She never tired of the view from the front porch. Majestic pines towered toward wispy clouds floating in a sky so blue no artist could truly capture the vibrant hue. Behind the trees, the nearby Mazatzal Mountains rose, their stair-step peaks covered in snow much of the year. Bear Creek, the ranch’s namesake, could be easily reached by foot from any of the resort’s thirty-three cabins. Clear and clean, the creek teemed with trout and was a favorite with guests wanting to drop a line and test their luck.

Natalie had been born on Bear Creek Ranch, in the same cabin her parents occupied today. Like her younger sister, Sabrina, she’d grown up on the ranch. Unlike Sabrina, Natalie stayed on after reaching adulthood, learning the hospitality business from the ground up.

She wasn’t related to the Tuckers, the family who owned the ranch and had since it was constructed back when the railroad still made a stop at the old Bear Creek Station. But she and her parents were treated like family in many ways, and her loyalty to the Tuckers ran deep.

The front screen door banged open, rousing Natalie from her woolgathering. Alice Gilbert, the ranch’s office manager and Jake Tucker’s personal assistant, popped her head out the door.

“I think Shiloh’s awake.” She wore the expression of a person who had no experience with babies and wasn’t interested in acquiring any.

“Thanks.”

Pushing off the column, Natalie hurried inside. Her shoes clicked softly on the highly polished hardwood floors as she crossed the lobby toward the front desk. Alice had already disappeared into her small office, which was situated right next to Jake Tucker’s larger one.

Natalie didn’t have the luxury of a private office. Her position required she be available to guests whenever she was on duty and sometimes when she wasn’t. Since she stood—or walked or ran if necessary—more often than she sat while working, the compact computer station tucked behind the reception desk suited her needs just fine.

It was the supply room next to her computer station that Natalie entered, listening intently. No crying. Maybe Alice had been wrong. Tiptoeing, Natalie made her way to the portable crib in the center of the floor. A Mother Goose night-light provided just enough illumination for her to make out the tiny baby stirring in the crib.

Shiloh.

As always, Natalie’s heart melted at the sight of her beautiful three-month-old daughter. How did she ever get so lucky? What had been a scary unplanned pregnancy turned into the greatest joy of her life. Not a day passed that Natalie didn’t thank her lucky stars.

“Hey there, sweetie pie.” She bent and reached into the crib. Lifting Shiloh, she put the baby to her shoulder, kissing a crown of feather-soft hair as she did. “You hungry?”

In response, Shiloh wiggled and mewed and made sucking noises with her tiny mouth.

“Let’s go, then.”

Natalie left the room and headed toward Jake Tucker’s office. Her boss had given her permission to use his office when he wasn’t there to nurse Shiloh in privacy. Alice didn’t much care for the arrangement but she had no say in the matter. Jake had insisted.

Sitting in the overstuffed leather chair behind Jake’s desk, she swiveled to face the window. Shiloh was a good baby in most ways, a blessing considering her unusual day-care circumstances. Natalie nursed the baby and contemplated the changes she’d need to make soon.

The Tuckers had been generous to her since Shiloh’s birth. They’d given her six weeks’ maternity leave, with pay, and then allowed her to use the storage room as a makeshift nursery after she returned to work. Natalie’s mother, who’d retired from Natalie’s job two years ago, watched the baby for a couple hours in the morning. Jake’s oldest daughter helped out when she got home from school.

It was those hours in between that were the problem. Natalie couldn’t keep Shiloh with her during the day when the ranch reopened for the new season. Hiring a part-time nanny made the most sense, but finding a trusted candidate she could afford on her modest budget wouldn’t be easy.

Balancing Shiloh in her lap, Natalie rubbed the baby’s back and waited for a burp. When Shiloh showed no more interest in nursing, Natalie buttoned her blouse. Not an easy task with a baby in her lap. She started when the door unexpectedly opened, hurrying to smooth her disarrayed clothing. Shiloh gave a fussy cry in response.

“Just a second,” Natalie said, feeling her cheeks flush. Although she had permission to be there, she was nonetheless embarrassed. She stood up and turned around, Shiloh cradled in her arms, an apology on the tip of her tongue.

Only it wasn’t Jake Tucker who stood just inside the doorway. This man was a complete stranger.

“May I help you?” Her voice squeaked slightly.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am.” He removed his battered cowboy hat. “The lady out front didn’t tell me anyone was in here.”

“Not your fault.” Natalie mustered her best be-nice-to-the-guests smile. Alice’s oversight may or may not have been intentional. No point getting upset about it.

“The fellow down at the stables told me to wait here for Tucker.”

Two things about the man’s statement struck Natalie as odd. First was the fact her father sent the cowboy to the main lodge. Even if they were looking to hire another hand, her father didn’t need Jake’s approval for that.

Second, no one Natalie knew or had ever met referred to Jacob Tucker by his last name alone. Family and close friends called him Jake. Everyone else, including Natalie except when they were in private, called him Mr. Tucker.

“Did Alice phone him for you?”

“If that’s the lady out front, I believe she did. Said he’d be right along.”

He smiled at Natalie then, and she was surprised to find herself thinking what an attractive man he was. Dark brown eyes and even darker hair hinted at a Hispanic heritage. His shoulders were wide but proportionate to his height and well muscled. This cowboy, in his faded jeans and worn-at-the-elbows work shirt, was accustomed to hard physical labor. It was a look he carried well.

“All right then.” Natalie took a step toward the door, intending to leave. Her curiosity was definitely piqued, but this man’s meeting with Jake was none of her business.

“Your baby’s very pretty.”

His words stopped her. She received many compliments on Shiloh, but rarely from men and never from men who were strangers.

“Thank you.”

His smile warmed, and Natalie relaxed. She met all types of people in her line of work. Though appearances could be deceiving, she was a quick and fairly accurate judge of character. This cowboy didn’t strike her as a troublemaker or a creep. If anything, she sensed the opposite in him. There was a quiet sadness underlying his pleasant manner. Subtle, but definitely there.

“Her father must be very proud of her,” he said.

“I wouldn’t know.” Her response came unexpectedly. She didn’t reveal much to anyone about Shiloh’s absent father, preferring to dodge questions rather than reply.

“His loss,” the man said simply.

“Yes, it is,” Natalie said and automatically held a dozy Shiloh closer. “I’d best go.”

He inclined his head. “Maybe I’ll see you around the ranch.”

There was nothing flirtatious about his statement, but Natalie still kept her tone professional. “If you’re staying, that’s likely.”

“I’m staying.”

“You sound very sure.”

“It’s taken me two years to get here. And now that I am, I’m not leaving. For any reason,” he added.

“I see.” Another odd comment, Natalie mused. But then everything about this man and his visit was out of the ordinary…and interesting, she silently admitted.

In the ten months since Shiloh’s father left—with the same abruptness he’d come into her life—Natalie avoided encounters with the opposite sex. So why pick today to lower her guard? And with someone she’d met in a less than comfortable situation only moments before?

Hurried footsteps echoed in the lobby.

“Mr. Tucker’s here.”

The man gave an unconcerned shrug and if she wasn’t mistaken, his sad eyes twinkled with the barest hint of amusement.

In the next instant, Jake burst through the door. A fine sheen of perspiration covered his forehead, and a lock of hair hung limply over his brow. Natalie couldn’t help staring at her boss’s uncustomary disheveled state.

“Oh.” He appeared taken aback to find her in his office. “You two have met.”

“Not exactly,” Natalie stammered.

“I inadvertently walked in on her,” the man offered. “We haven’t been officially introduced yet.”

He was smiling again, and Natalie flushed anew. Had he come into the office a minute sooner, he’d have caught her nursing Shiloh.

Jake combed fingers through his hair, restoring it to a semblance of its normal tidiness. “Natalie Forrester is our manager of guest services.” He indicated the man with a curt nod and a throat clearing. “And this is Aaron Reyes.”

Natalie forced her slack-jawed mouth to close. “How do you do,” she murmured when her wits returned.

“He was my sister’s husband,” Jake clarified.

He needn’t have bothered—Natalie knew the name. She’d heard it shouted, whispered, trashed and taken in vain plenty often during the last few years. But never once uttered with warmth or affection.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she said and made a beeline for the door. Shiloh protested the bumpy ride with a soft cry.

“It was nice meeting you, ma’am,” he called after her.

“Same here.”

“Don’t go far,” Jake said before Natalie closed the door. “I’ll need you to show Reyes here to his quarters.”

“Yes, sir.”

So, he was staying. For eight weeks if he abided by the terms of the Tucker Family Trust.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Natalie muttered to herself. Aaron Reyes, husband of the late Hailey Tucker, had come at long last to Bear Creek Ranch to claim his inheritance.

Of all the men she could take notice of, it had to be the one her boss despised with every breath he drew.

“IF THERE WAS any way I could legally kick your ass off this place, I would.”

“I understand.”

Aaron didn’t take offense at Jake’s outburst. His former brother-in-law had a right to be angry at him for waiting until practically the last day to exercise his right to a share of the Tucker Family Trust. Jake didn’t, however, have any cause to be mad at Aaron for marrying Hailey. He’d loved his wife and treated her well. They’d been happy together for six months, would have been happy together for the rest of their lives if fate hadn’t intervened.

Whether it was their marriage or Aaron’s claim to his inheritance that infuriated Jake was irrelevant. Aaron had made an enemy the day he eloped with Jake’s younger sister—more than one enemy if Jake wielded the kind of power Hailey always said he did.

“You’ll receive no preferential treatment,” Jake continued through tightly clenched teeth.

“I don’t expect any.”

The two men squared off across an oversize oak desk, Jake sat behind it, Aaron in front of it.

“Everyone here works hard. Sunup to sundown. Longer if necessary.”

“My kind of hours.”

Jake snorted, then snatched a paper off his desk as if he just that second realized something needed his attention.

Aaron waited. He could play the game, had been prepared to do just that. For the longest time after Hailey died he’d had nothing to do with the Tuckers or the inheritance she’d left him, despite it being her wish he get to know her family and the ranch her grandparents founded.

A month ago, as the deadline for him to act approached, Aaron changed his mind. He was glad he did. Sparring with Jake made him feel truly alive for the first time since he’d knelt in that arena, an unconscious Hailey in his arms. She never woke up. The fall, a freak riding accident, had crushed her skull beyond repair. She died four hours later in a hospital bed, surrounded by people who loved her—and who disliked each other intensely.

“Breakfast is at 6:00 a.m. sharp. Lunch at noon.” Jake set his paper aside. “You’ll eat with the staff, not the guests.”

“Beats chowing on a can of refried beans in the back of my pickup.”

Jake gave a noncommittal grunt. “Dinner at six. Then you’ll be required to eat with the guests.”

“Really?” Aaron raised an eyebrow.

“Ranch policy. Not my personal one. The guests enjoy mingling with the hands.”

“And that’s what I’ll be doing while I’m here? Ranch hand?”

“Report to Gary Forrester in the morning. Before breakfast,” Jake emphasized.

“The man who directed me here?”

“Yes. He’ll decide your job.”

If Jake were in charge of assigning jobs, Aaron thought wryly, he’d probably pick head manure shoveler.

“Is Gary Forrester any relation to Natalie Forrester?”

“Her father. He oversees our riding stock, the stables and the wranglers, among other things.”

Aaron thought of the young woman he’d met earlier in Jake’s office. She’d done her best to downplay her natural prettiness. No makeup to accent intelligent blue eyes. She wore a stretchy headband that only half tamed a mop of wild blond curls, and baggy jeans and sweater that did little to hide a very female shape beneath.

He wasn’t interested in complicating his life with romantic entanglements but if he ever changed his mind, Natalie Forrester would be a woman worth tangling with.

“Do I talk to Ms. Forrester about paying for my room and board?”

“You don’t pay.” Jake ground the teeth he’d been previously clenching. “Members of the trust receive meals and lodging as part of the deal.”

Another man might have grabbed Aaron by the shirt collar the second he spotted him in the lobby and tossed him out on his rear. Not Jake Tucker. Settling disputes through a show of physical force wasn’t his style. Whatever efforts he employed to rid the ranch of Aaron—and he would employ them, Aaron was sure of it—were bound to be less direct, more subtle and cast no blame on him.

He’d tried the legal route soon after Hailey’s death. The courts sided with Aaron, holding up the terms of Hailey’s will. At the time, he hadn’t cared. He’d wished, in fact, the judge had ruled against him.

But a month ago, Aaron found a use for the income from his inheritance and a way to bring meaning to Hailey’s otherwise purposeless death.

His former brother-in-law probably wouldn’t see it that way. But how Aaron spent the money from his share of the trust was his concern and his concern alone. Now, he just needed to keep that income rolling in. Which was what brought him to Bear Creek Ranch in the first place a mere two days before he would have forfeited his voting rights in the trust.

The deal, as Jake called it, wasn’t complicated. Neither was it easy. Members of the Tucker Family Trust who didn’t already live on the ranch were required to stay for a minimum of eight weeks every year and work alongside the regular staff. It was the founding members’ intention that those who belonged to the trust and were responsible for making decisions affecting the ranch have a firsthand understanding of its operation.

Aaron spent the past few weeks making the necessary arrangements to enable him to take some time off. He hadn’t advised Jake of his plans, preferring to surprise him. Aaron needed every advantage at his disposal if he were to last the full eight weeks.

“Staff housing isn’t like guest cabins,” Jake said, “and is located on another part of the ranch. You’ll share your quarters with three or four other employees, depending on what’s available.”

“Okay.” Aaron was no stranger to cohabitating with a bunch of guys. Ten years of traveling the professional rodeo circuit and living hand to mouth had taught him to make do with what was available. If that included sleeping on a hotel-room floor or in the back of his pickup, so be it.

“Natalie will show you around.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Aaron meant nothing by his remark, but the unfriendly glare Jake shot him made him feel like a lecherous old man.

“Stay away from her,” he snarled.

“Hey, take it easy.”

“I don’t give a damn about the conditions of the trust. You touch Natalie, you hurt her, and I personally guarantee you’ll never sit a bronc the same way again. Your rodeo career will be over.”

Not much of a threat. Aaron quit rodeoing right after Hailey died. Apparently, Jake didn’t know, and Aaron didn’t bother to enlighten him.

“Look, I’m not interested in her.” Since what Aaron said was the truth, he saw no reason to engage Jake in an argument. They would have enough problems getting along without adding to them.

“Remember what I said.” Jake leveled a finger at him.

Protective. He’d been like that with Hailey, too. Or, was it controlling?

Considering the intensity of his warning, Aaron thought his former brother-in-law might assume the duty of showing him to his quarters. Instead, the phone on the desk rang, and he dismissed Aaron with a brusque “That’s all for now.”

Natalie was waiting for him outside the office. More accurately, she was seated at a computer and looked up expectantly when he emerged.

Aaron felt a small something when their gazes connected…and held. Not exactly a spark. More of a brief flicker. It was hard to tell. His sensors were pretty rusty.

Maybe Jake had been right to warn him away from Natalie after all.

If he wanted to stay, wanted to make this plan of his work, he’d be wise to heed that warning.

Chapter Two

“We’re fully staffed. The only bunkhouse with an empty bed in it right now is fourteen.” Natalie talked as she maneuvered the electric golf cart with practiced ease.

Aaron gritted his teeth and held on to the seat edge as they took yet another sharp turn on an uneven, tree-lined dirt road that was more of a trail than anything else. “Fourteen’s my lucky number.”

She chuckled. “You say that now.”

“Why are you laughing?” He took his eyes off the road long enough to cast her a suspicious glance. “What’s wrong with the bunkhouse?”

“Nothing.” Her grin widened. “It’s your bunkmates.”

“I’ll manage. I’ve shared quarters with some real winners in the past. It kind of comes with the territory.”

“Good. You’ll have the necessary experience to draw on.” She turned her wide and, he admitted, dazzling grin on him.

It was contagious, and Aaron couldn’t resist responding. He was suddenly looking forward to meeting his bunkmates. Life, he realized, had become mundane. Today was the most enjoyment he’d had in he couldn’t remember when.

Natalie had left her baby back at the lodge in the care of a young teenage girl named Briana. Jake’s oldest and, Aaron supposed, his niece by marriage. She’d heard about him—nothing good, based on the wary once-over she gave him. He liked her anyway because she obviously adored Natalie’s baby and couldn’t wait to swing the infant up in her arms.

“Here we are.” Natalie brought the golf cart to a stop in front of a simple, yet well-maintained, bunkhouse. It was the third in a sizable row of bunkhouses, all alike except for the angle at which they were tucked into the hill.

Aaron climbed out of the golf cart and retrieved his duffel bag from the back. He and Natalie had stopped first at the stables before coming here. Aaron checked on his horse, Dollar, and then grabbed his stuff. He traveled light. Another holdover from his former career.

“A laptop?” Natalie asked, eyeing the black computer case he slung over his shoulder.

He purposely didn’t tell her why he’d brought it. “Is there a phone line in the bunkhouse?”

“No. But the ranch has a wireless connection in the main lodge. It’s for the convenience of our guests, but the staff use it, too.”

“Thanks.”

She kept staring at the laptop, though she asked no more questions about it. “The dining hall is to the east of the main lodge. The building with the picnic tables out front and the big outdoor fireplace. You have about an hour and a half before dinner.”

What had been a four-minute golf-cart ride would be a fifteen-minute walk. Aaron checked his watch. He had plenty of time to shower and clean up before meeting his coworkers at dinner. Or, was that employees since he technically owned one-eighth of the ranch?

Better to come off as a coworker, he decided, if he wished to fit in and make friends with the staff. Aaron had a reason to be here, and it wasn’t to show anyone who was boss. He’d leave that to Jake.

“See you at dinner,” Natalie said and drove off.

Something else for Aaron to look forward to, he thought, watching her putt-putt down the road.

Only after she disappeared from sight did he turn and walk up the steep path to the bunkhouse. At the door, he set down his duffel bag and tried the knob. The hinges squeaked when he opened the unlocked door, announcing his arrival.

“Anyone home?”

No one answered so he went inside.

The bunkhouse was small, yet comfortable. A two-person breakfast bar separated the galley kitchen from the living room. Three rooms led off a short hallway; two bedrooms and a bathroom the size of a large closet. Furniture was sparse. Each bedroom contained a set of twin beds and a single dresser.

Both rooms were occupied, as evidenced by shoes left in the middle of the floor and toiletries on the dresser tops. Aaron opted to wait and see which bed was available before stowing his things. Taking some clean clothes from his duffel bag, he hit the shower. He met two of his bunkmates when he finished a short time later.

“Hey,” a guy with a scruffy goatee greeted him from the kitchen. He was wearing a tan shirt and matching pants. “How’s it going?”

He appeared neither surprised nor annoyed to find a stranger using his bathroom. The same could be said for the guy on the couch, who wore an identical uniform and was stretched out with his feet propped up on a thrift-store-style coffee table, listening to his iPod.

“Want one?” The guy in the kitchen held up a beer.

“No, thanks.”

“Can’t drink alcohol anywhere but inside your bunkhouse,” the guy told Aaron before tipping back his longneck bottle and taking a lengthy pull. “They’re real strict about that. If a guest sees you drinking, you’ll be fired on the spot.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Aaron unzipped his duffel bag and removed a plastic sack. He added dirty clothes to his growing pile. “Is there a laundry around here?”

“Behind the dining hall.” The guy hitched his chin as if the laundry were right across the road rather than a good mile up it. “By the way, I’m Randy. That there is Skunk.”

“Skunk?”

Randy shook his head. “Don’t ask. You’ll just make him mad.”

If Skunk knew they were talking about him he gave no indication. Head resting on the back of the couch, he listened to his iPod with closed eyes. He might have been napping except for the beer he raised to his lips every other minute like clockwork.

“I’m Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you.” Randy toasted him. “Where you from?”

“Laveen, originally,” he answered, naming the small rural community southeast of Phoenix where he was born and raised. “I’ve been traveling a lot since I graduated high school.”

“Yeah, haven’t we all.”

“Which bed is mine?” Aaron didn’t suppose either of these two would make a bad roommate. Randy appeared agreeable enough and Skunk was quiet.

A slow smile spread across Randy’s face. “Me and Skunk got the room to the right.”

“Who’s in the bedroom to the left?”

Randy’s smile expanded until it stretched from ear to ear. “Terrence.” He said the name with both reverence and amusement.

Aaron got the distinct impression he was the brunt of some joke only Randy was in on. He decided to go along with it for now. Nothing wrong with a little sport among friends.

“What do you and Skunk do on the ranch?” he asked.

“Skunk’s with maintenance, and I’m with groundskeeping. He keeps the rental ATVs running for the guests. I pick up their litter.” Randy took another swig of his beer. “It’s not such a bad living I reckon. What about you?”

“Ranch hand, I think. I’m supposed to report to Gary Forrester in the morning.”

“You’ll be working with Terrence then.” Randy’s smile became ridiculously large.

Aaron began to suspect he was in for a real treat when he met this Terrence, and not a good one. He was just getting the rundown on the community tipping pool when a heavy thumping sounded from the porch.

Randy shot out from behind the breakfast bar. “Terrence is home.”

Skunk opened his eyes and removed his headphones, letting them fall onto his lap.

Whoever this Terrence was, he commanded a lot of attention.

The door flew open. A tall, broad, dark figure stopped and stood, filling every inch of the open space. Arms ripped with muscles extended from a sleeveless work shirt. Boots—size thirteen at least—stepped over the threshold and came down with a hard clunk on the bare floor, the spurs jangling. A rattlesnake tattoo wound around a thick, corded neck.

Aaron swallowed, admittedly intimidated. He’d met cowboys who looked more like homeboys, but never a cowgirl.

“Hi, Terrence,” Randy chirped. “Meet your new roomie.”

She stared at Randy as if she might eat him alive for breakfast. “My name ain’t Terrence. It’s Teresa.” She enunciated each syllable while pointing a finger at him with the same aggression some people raised a fist. “And you morons better start calling me that.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Teresa.” Aaron considered shaking her hand but decided she might inadvertently crush his fingers.

“I don’t room with no one.” She glared at him. “That was the agreement when I took this job.”

“Guess the agreement’s changed.” Randy burst into laughter. So did Skunk. They both shut up when Teresa fixed her glare on them.

“We’ll just see what Natalie has to say about this.”

“Why don’t I sleep on the couch,” Aaron suggested.

“Good idea.” Teresa removed her hat and sailed it across the room. It landed on the coffee table, inches from Skunk’s feet. She wiped her damp forehead and patted her many rows of tight braids, woven with beads of all colors. “I’m taking a shower. Anyone who steps foot in the bathroom is a dead man.”

No one so much as blinked.

“She seems personable,” Aaron said when she’d gone into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

When Randy and Skunk broke into more laughter, Aaron joined them. His good mood lasted up until dinner when everyone in the dining hall turned to stare when he and his bunkmates walked in.

“What gives?” Randy asked, checking out all the gawking faces.

“There’s something I didn’t mention,” Aaron said, wondering if their friendly treatment of him would change after he told them who he really was.

“SO, WHAT’S HE LIKE?” Natalie’s mother, Deana, asked in a whisper that somehow managed to carry over the noisy din of the crowded dining hall.

There were twenty-nine employees currently on the Bear Creek Ranch payroll. By Natalie’s estimation, each and every one of them was there, eating dinner and staying long after they’d finished for another look at Aaron Reyes. Her mother was no exception, sneaking less than discreet glances his way every few seconds.

“Seems pleasant enough,” her father said. He was one of the only people there more concerned with eating his apple pie than Aaron Reyes’s unexpected appearance on the ranch.

“Very pleasant,” Natalie concurred, shaking a rattle in front of Shiloh’s face.

She’d put the baby in a carrier, one that doubled as a car seat, and secured it on the chair beside her. Shiloh had been restless most of the dinner and was getting fussier by the minute. Probably a reaction to the nervous energy abounding in the room, so different from the usual staff meals where everyone joked and told stories and decompressed after a hard day of work.

Meals were served family style at the ranch. Everyone dined at long tables holding twelve to fourteen people, and enjoyed simple, country fare. After the start of the new season, the staff, with the exception of the ranch hands and trail guides, would take their meals an hour earlier than the guests and eat either in the kitchen or outside beneath the ramada. Until then, they all ate together in the dining hall.

“Pleasant? That’s all you have to say?” Deana threw Aaron Reyes another sidelong glance.

“Polite,” Natalie added.

“Right sociable,” her father said.

“Likes kids.”

“Likes kids?” Deana looked inquisitively at Natalie. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t.” Natalie backpedaled. “Just a feeling.” Because he’d complimented Shiloh? Not much to go on, really. “What I mean is he doesn’t dislike kids.” That remark earned her an eye roll from her mother. Shut up, she told herself, while you can still save face.

Natalie’s father came to her rescue. “He knows a lot about horses.”

“Well, he should,” Deana said with a huff. “He was national bronc-riding champion for three straight years. Saddle and bareback.”

Only half listening, Natalie put the rattle in Shiloh’s pudgy hand. The baby immediately thrust the rattle into her mouth and began gnawing on it, freeing Natalie to drink her coffee and eat her pie.

“He’s a fine-looking man.”

Natalie hoped her lack of response would bring about a change of topic. Her efforts were in vain.

“I’ll say. He’s hot,” Alice Gilbert added. She sat directly across from Natalie and had been watching Aaron along with her mother. “Did you see him in those magazine ads? Whew! Made me want to buy vet supplies and I don’t even own a horse.”

“And what about that cable-TV show he was on for a while?” Deana elbowed Natalie’s father. “You used to watch it.”

“Rodeo Week in Review,” he mumbled.

“That’s it.” Deana quit trying to be subtle and openly studied Aaron. “No one could blame Hailey falling for him. How much younger than her was he?” She answered her own question before someone else could. “Four years, right? No, five. Which, of course, is no big deal these days.”

Natalie remembered the age difference really bothering Jake. But then, everything about his little sister’s marriage bothered him.

“How much money do you think he has?”

“Mom!”

“Did you see that silver belt buckle he’s wearing? The thing has to be worth a couple thousand dollars. I bet he has a whole drawer full of them.”

“His truck isn’t worth much more than that belt buckle,” Natalie’s father commented. “Whatever money he made rodeoing must be spent.”

“If he ever made any money at it to begin with,” Alice added with a knowing look. “I heard Jake say once that Aaron Reyes only married his sister for her money and the family connection.”

Natalie had her doubts. While certainly comfortable, the Tuckers weren’t as rich as they looked. And an ex-national rodeo champion who regularly appeared in magazine ads and on television wasn’t someone who needed the clout of the Tucker name. In her opinion, her boss had been looking for reasons to dislike Aaron.

“Maybe he blew all his money,” Deana offered.

“Or lost it on bad investments,” Alice suggested.

“Stop it, all of you.” Natalie frowned at her tablemates. Though she secretly agreed with her father’s assessment of Aaron’s financial situation, she refused to gossip about him. “You’re as bad as everyone else here.”

Deana rushed to their defense. “Naturally, we’re curious. Who wouldn’t be?”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious, too?” her father asked. A slight smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Natalie tried to muster up some annoyance and failed. He knew her too well, better even than her mother and sister. “A little,” she admitted out loud. A lot, she admitted to herself. “But I won’t gossip about him.”

She herself had been the subject of countless dinner-table discussions when her flash-in-the-pan romance with Shiloh’s father ended.

Natalie met Shiloh’s father at the Payson rodeo last year when Jake’s cousin, Carolina, coerced her into going. For all her twenty-seven years, Natalie didn’t have much experience with men. Fraternizing with the guests was strictly prohibited. Guests were pretty much the only men Natalie met. As a result, she didn’t date much. Okay, hardly at all.

Like Aaron Reyes, Shiloh’s father made his living as a professional rodeo rider, though he wasn’t nearly as successful. He’d swept Natalie off her feet with his easy charm and heart-stopping sexy smile. She succumbed quickly, and when he didn’t leave right away for the next rodeo, she started hoping he’d stay on and that maybe her father would give him a job on the ranch.

The positive home-pregnancy test panicked him. It had panicked her, too. He might have done the right thing eventually, given the time and the chance. Married her, stayed on the ranch, paid monthly child support. But Natalie sent him packing the second she realized how much he didn’t want a child. She’d justified her actions, saying she deserved more than an irresponsible drifter for a husband and that Shiloh deserved a father who wanted her. But there were nights when she lay in bed awake, wondering if she’d been wrong to act so hastily.

Aaron Reyes reminded her too much of Shiloh’s father. No matter how interesting he might be, how “fine-looking” he was, how pleasant he seemed, Natalie had dated her last rodeo rider. More importantly, her boss didn’t like Aaron, and she refused to go against the Tuckers. Not voluntarily.

Shiloh began crying. Natalie unbuckled the straps holding her daughter in the carrier and lifted her out, automatically checking her diaper. It was dry. A few soothing words whispered in her ear helped to settle her.

“He can’t be that broke.” Deana wasn’t ready to abandon the topic of Aaron Reyes. “Not with the money he gets from the family trust.”

“Depends on annual profits,” Alice said. “We had a few lean years there, though things are picking up.”

Based on advance bookings, the ranch was in for the busiest season they’d had in a long while.

“And a lot of Jake Tucker’s wealth comes from his business investments outside of the ranch.” Her father gave her mother a very pointed stare.

“True.” Deana had the decency to look chagrined.

When she’d retired from Natalie’s job, it was to pursue a longtime dream of owning and running her own business. With Jake Tucker’s financial backing, she and Millie Sweetwater, Jake’s aunt, opened an antique shop in Payson that was so far operating in the black and showed promise of really taking off. Jake, Natalie knew, was satisfied with the return on his investment.

Yet one more reason for Natalie to steer clear of Aaron Reyes. It was unlikely Jake would withdraw his support of the business because of his aunt. But if he did, Natalie’s mother would suffer. Possibly lose the business. Jake and his aunt could withstand the financial hit. Not Deana.

Shiloh finally had enough and was now crying in earnest.

“I think this is my cue to go home.” Natalie returned Shiloh to the carrier and refastened the straps, then stood. “I’ll see you all in the morning.” She went around the table to the other side and gave each of her parents a kiss on the cheek.

“Night, baby girl.” Deana reached out and tickled Shiloh’s sock-covered foot. “I hope she doesn’t keep you up all hours of the night.”

“She’ll be fine once we get home.” Shiloh usually went to sleep quickly and often as not, didn’t wake up until morning. “I might walk around a bit first. Fresh air makes her sleepy.”

“You sure? It’s getting cold out there.”

Natalie tucked a blanket around the baby. “We won’t be long.”

She noticed Aaron still sitting and chatting as she wove between the tables and headed toward the kitchen. Apparently, he’d yet to grow weary of hearing his name on every person’s lips. Good for him.

Taking a shortcut through the kitchen, she stopped at the walk-in refrigerator and grabbed a bottled water before going outside. The instant they hit the cool evening air, Shiloh stopped crying and started looking around.

The peace and quiet was a welcome relief. Natalie paused a moment to enjoy the silence before cutting across a small strip of lawn that ran between the dining hall and the main lodge. She’d driven her compact car from her bunkhouse, not wanting to take Shiloh in the golf cart.

Light spilled from a window in the laundry room behind the kitchen, catching Natalie’s attention. She sighed and changed direction. This was hardly the first time she had to follow behind careless employees, shutting off lights they left on or picking up their discarded trash.

An empty bag sat atop one of the washers. Natalie looked around and when she saw nothing else amiss, switched off the light. She turned to leave…only to shop short when she came face-to-face with Aaron Reyes.

“Oh!” Her heart suddenly beat faster. “You startled me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was here.” He moved aside to let her pass.

She stepped around him, carefully maneuvering Shiloh’s carrier. “I’m always shutting lights off.” She flicked the switch, turning the light back on.

“My fault. I’ll be more careful next time.”

He flashed her a smile. Not threatening or predatory or even sexy like Shiloh’s father. Just nice.

Although Natalie should have left—did her long talk with herself at dinner mean nothing?—she lingered. “How are you getting on with your bunkmates?”

“Great.”

“I should have warned you about Teresa.”

“What? And take all the fun out of it?” He pulled wet clothes from the washer and tossed them in the dryer.

“I really didn’t have any choice but to put you with them. Our employee contracts limit the number of people we can assign to a bunkhouse.”

“I like sleeping on the couch.”

Natalie winced. “I’m pretty sure we have a cot in one of the storage rooms. I’ll check on it tomorrow.”

“I’m fine,” he said, pushing a button on the dryer. With a squeaky groan, the drum started spinning.

“You say that now. But after eight weeks—”

“I’ll still be fine. Really.”

A moment passed with neither of them moving. Even Shiloh quieted, her little arms no longer wiggling.

Natalie broke the silence. “Can I at least give you a ride to your bunkhouse?”

“No, thanks. I’ll walk back with my new roomies after my clothes are dry.”

“Okay.”

Her estimation of Aaron rose another notch. No one would think much of her giving one of the owners a ride. They would think a whole lot more of that owner if he walked.

Natalie took a step toward the door. There really was no reason to stay. So why didn’t she leave? “You going back to the dining hall?”

Aaron leaned a hip on the washing machine. “In a few minutes. I have some calls to make.”

Her eyes automatically went to the cell phone clipped to his belt. “You can’t get a signal everywhere on the ranch. It’s best near the main lodge and only when the weather’s not overcast.”

His expression warmed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Natalie wanted to bite her tongue. The line she delivered ten times a day to guests had sounded like an invitation to walk with her. It was all the incentive she needed to finally get a move on.

“Good night, then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Stepping outside, she decided it would be for the best if she avoided Aaron as much as possible in the coming weeks. Technically, she worked for him, and it was her duty, her responsibility, to be helpful. But helpful didn’t include chitchatting in the laundry room. The last thing she wanted was for him to get the wrong idea.

Leaving him behind, she backtracked the way she’d come, her gaze focused on the uneven ground ahead. A shadow entered her line of vision. For the second time that night, she stopped short just before colliding with someone. Only this someone was her boss. Jake Tucker.

She didn’t need to see his face to know he wasn’t happy.

Chapter Three

Natalie skipped her usual sit-down breakfast the next morning. She had a hundred and one things to do and only two hours of uninterrupted work time while her mother watched Shiloh. After that, Deana would leave for the antique shop in Payson, an easy twenty-minute drive south on the highway.

Entering the dining hall, Natalie headed straight for the coffee station and filled her jumbo travel mug. On her way to the kitchen, she stopped by one of the tables and grabbed an English muffin, wrapping it in a napkin.

“Morning, honey,” her father called from the opposite table.

“Hey, Dad.”

Any other day, Natalie would have rushed over to give her father a quick hug or peck on the cheek. But this morning, he sat with Aaron Reyes, and they looked rather chummy with their heads bent, going over papers and maps and handwritten lists.

It wasn’t just their obvious involvement in whatever they were discussing that gave Natalie pause. Jake’s warning from the previous night still rang in her ears. He hadn’t told her not to talk to Aaron ever again, but he didn’t have to. She’d worked for Jake in some capacity since she was fourteen and long ago learned to read between his spoken lines.

“Gotta run.” She waved a hand at her father and smiled brightly, hoping neither he nor Aaron realized they were being snubbed. “See you later.” Sipping her coffee, she hurried toward the kitchen.

Natalie had her own list to go over with Olivia Barraza, supervisor of the kitchen crew and indisputable queen of her domain.

“Buenos días, chiquita,” she said to Natalie upon seeing her come into the kitchen. Though it had been a good many years since Natalie was a little girl, Olivia still used the endearment.

When Natalie took over her mother’s position, she’d worried that some of the staff, particularly those employees like Olivia who’d watched Natalie grow up and, on occasion, supervised her, wouldn’t accept her once they were on equal footing.

In Olivia’s case, Natalie’s worries were for nothing. They worked well together. When they weren’t on duty, Olivia treated Natalie like a beloved niece and Shiloh like one of her numerous grandchildren.

“I’ve got the most recent advance-booking numbers to go over with you.” Natalie pulled a stool up to the counter and took a seat. Weekly menus varied, depending on the number of guests staying at the ranch. To ensure the food served was the freshest possible, orders weren’t placed until the last minute.

Olivia dried her hands on a dish towel and came over to join Natalie. She was followed by one of her helpers, who, like Olivia, had been cleaning up after breakfast. The dishwasher, a young man barely into his twenties, remained at the sink, scrubbing a pot.

No sooner would the last fork be washed and dried and put away than the staff would start preparing lunch. When the new season started and there was an army of hungry guests to feed, twice the current staff would run the kitchen sixteen hours a day, operating with the precision and efficiency of a factory assembly line. Olivia tolerated nothing less.

“Before you get into that—” she settled herself onto the stool beside Natalie with a grace that belied her generous size “—there’s something we want to talk to you about.”

“We?”

She nodded at her helper. “Gerrie and I. Lucia and Pat, too,” she said, referring to her other two helpers who weren’t there.

“About what?” Natalie asked, a tad uneasy. Olivia was so rarely somber.

“Shiloh.”

“Shiloh?”

“Yes.” Olivia inched closer. So did Gerrie.

Natalie felt surrounded. “I don’t understand.”

“We know you need a babysitter and can’t find one.”

“That’s true. But—”

“We’ll do it.” Olivia and Gerrie exchanged nods.

Natalie’s glance went from one woman to the next. “You two?”

“We four. Lucia and Pat want to help, too.”

“Don’t look at me,” the dishwasher said from the sink when Natalie turned in his direction. “Kids are scared of me.”

With his piercings, scraggly goatee and full-sleeve tatts, Natalie believed him.

“But your days off,” she sputtered, still struggling to absorb everything Olivia had said. “You’d give them up?”

“Not all of them. We would rotate.” Olivia pulled a folded sheet of paper from her apron pocket and handed it to Natalie. “I’ve already talked to your mother and Briana. We need everyone to make this work.”

Natalie scanned the paper. On it was a seven-day grid with names penciled inside the squares, including her own. Olivia had gone though a lot of work to put it together.

“I don’t know what to say.” Natalie’s throat tightened.

“You say okay and thank you.”

“I’m really touched.” She tried to hand the paper back to Olivia. “But it’s too much to ask of you.”

“This is temporary,” Olivia assured Natalie, patting her arm. “Until you make other arrangements.”

“I’ll pay you,” Natalie insisted. “It’s only fair.”

“All right.” Olivia conceded with a shrug.

Natalie would have refused their plan unless they’d agreed to accept payment, and Olivia knew it.

“You sure, too?” Natalie looked inquiringly at Gerrie.

“Hey, I can use the extra money.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

Gerrie giggled. “Why do you think I need the extra money?”

“Only until I hire a regular nanny,” Natalie reiterated over a catch in her throat.

“Of course.” Olivia beamed.

Natalie drew in a breath, composed herself, then said, “Okay and thank you.”

The three woman hugged. Natalie wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve such good friends. She’d have to find a way besides money to return their kindness.

For the next ten minutes, Natalie and Olivia went over the bookings and discussed food orders. Afterward, Natalie left through the dining area on her way next door to the main lodge. Her father and Aaron were gone, much to her relief. She wouldn’t have to find an excuse for avoiding Aaron.

Olivia and Gerrie had reminded her of what she already knew in her heart. The employees of Bear Creek Ranch weren’t just coworkers or even friends. They were family.

And Natalie would be a fool to jeopardize her place here by having anything other than a strictly professional relationship with Aaron.

THE CLINK, CLINK of a hammer against an iron anvil resounded through the crisp morning air. Seven horses stood tied to the hitching rail beside the barn entrance, their tails swishing and ears flicking. Six awaited their turn with the farrier. The seventh one belonged to Aaron.

Teresa and another ranch hand Aaron just met that morning helped the farrier. With forty head of riding stock to shoe, they had their work cut out for them.

Aaron’s lone female bunkmate had yet to warm to him, though he was pretty sure he sensed a slight crumbling of her hard exterior. The couch was about as comfortable as a sack of potatoes, and too short for his six-one frame. But, sad to say, he’d slept on worse. Not, however, for eight straight weeks. He rolled his shoulders to loosen some of the knots, thinking he might take Natalie up on her offer of a cot.

She’d avoided him at breakfast, and he was surprised at the depth of his disappointment. Until she abruptly escaped into the kitchen, he hadn’t known how much he was hoping she’d sit with him and her father. Did Jake talk to her? Warn her away as he had Aaron? He wouldn’t put it past the man.

All the more reason for Aaron to seek her out at dinner and ask her about the cot.

Talking softly to Dollar, Aaron hefted his saddle onto the horse’s back. When he pulled the girth tight, Dollar snaked his big head around and gave him the look.

“Sorry, boy.” He let the girth out. “Didn’t realize you’d put on a few pounds around the middle.”

The horse turned back to the fence, clearly insulted.

“Hey, you’re not the only one.” Aaron patted the front of his denim jacket. “Truth is, we’re both out of shape.”

He rode as often as he could. These days, “often” amounted to once, sometimes twice, a week. There’d been a time when he rode daily. When they weren’t rodeoing, Aaron and Dollar competed in team penning events—mostly for fun and only on a local level. That was how he’d met Hailey, when he congratulated her on beating the pants off him. He’d never been so happy to lose.

She was an experienced rider and careful. Not one to take unnecessary risks. Which was why her accident was so difficult to accept.

The mere click of a photographer’s camera was to blame. Her horse bolted at the insignificant sound just as they were exiting the arena after a successful run and an unprepared Hailey went flying. She bounced off the fence like a discarded rag doll and landed directly under the mare’s thrashing hooves. Two dozen people instantly poured from the sidelines but were too late to drag her to safety.

Aaron would never forget the horror on the photographer’s face.

Ironically, the mare had been Hailey’s favorite. They’d had hundreds of photos taken of them, appeared in dozens of publications. Why that particular day the mare spooked at something so familiar was a question Aaron had spent almost two years asking himself. He stopped only when he decided to come to Bear Creek Ranch and make Hailey’s death count for something.

“Be right back, boy.” Aaron patted Dollar’s neck and, leaving the girth undone, strolled to the side of the barn. He kept a toolbox in the storage compartment of his trailer.

“Need something?” Gary hollered to him from the barn aisle. He carried a fifty-pound saddle over one arm with the same ease most people carried a sack of groceries.

“Leather punch. Seems my horse has been cheating on his diet again.”

“There’s one in there if you want.” Gary hitched his chin in the direction of the tack room.

“Appreciate it.” When Aaron passed Gary, he noted the worn but superior-crafted saddle. Natalie’s father evidently didn’t spend all his days taking novice riders on trail rides through easy terrain.

“You do much endurance riding?” Aaron asked.

“Not like I used to.” Gary stopped, assessed Aaron with a critical eye. “Yourself?”

“Thought about it. Never tried, though.”

“I can take you out one day if you have a hankering.”

“I’d like that. See what my horse can do. He hasn’t been on a lot of trails.”

“This won’t be any run-of-the-mill trail ride.” There was a slight challenge in Gary’s voice.

Aaron smiled. He liked challenges. “Looking forward to it.”

“Leather punch is hanging on the far wall,” Gary said and strode off to saddle his horse. With four perfectly matched stockings and a gleaming Sorel coat, the gelding wasn’t run-of-the-mill either.

Their plan was to ride every one of the ranch’s eight horse trails winding through the surrounding mountains. They would make sure the trails were, first, accessible and, second, safe. Winter storms were notoriously destructive. Depending on what they found, maintenance crews would be dispatched to clear the trails of debris or repair places where the earth had eroded. Later in the week, Gary and Aaron would lead the riding stock over the same trails, reintroducing the horses before they carried people.

During breakfast that morning, Aaron learned more about Bear Creek Ranch and the many intricacies of its operation than he ever had from his late wife. In many ways, the ranch was like a small, highly organized village. Each resident had a job, from Jake Tucker to Randy and Skunk, and the ranch thrived only when everyone did their job. Aaron had observed a strong camaraderie among the staff, no doubt fueled by the closeness in which they lived, worked and recreated.

Becoming a member of their tight-knit clan, if that was even what he wanted, would require some doing. He might be one of the village leaders, but he hadn’t been born into the position, and acceptance didn’t come automatically for him.

One aspect of the ranch that had taken him by complete surprise was Jake’s living arrangements. Gary apparently assumed Aaron had prior knowledge of Jake’s divorce and his move to a house several miles away. Aaron hadn’t asked any questions at Gary’s casual reference despite a burning curiosity. Faults aside, Aaron’s former brother-in-law was a family man through and through. Leaving his daughters must have been a terrible blow and maybe accounted for the anger constantly simmering beneath the surface.

Stepping into the tack room, Aaron looked around. Like everything else in the barn and stables, on the entire ranch for that matter, the place was neat and tidy.

Saddles on racks occupied one entire wall, bridles and halters, another. In the center of the room were back-to-back shelving units. One side held an array of boots in varying sizes and styles, Aaron presumed for guests who didn’t bring their own. Cowboy hats and baseball caps were on the other. At the end of one shelf were three child-size riding helmets.

He went over and picked up one of the helmets. Turning it over, he inspected the condition of the straps, buckles and padding. While not new, the helmet was in decent shape and should adequately protect the small head inside it. There were no adult-size helmets in and amongst all the cowboy hats and baseball caps. Did guests not want them or did the ranch not provide them? Aaron intended to find out.

Many of the men he rodeoed with argued helmets didn’t make a difference and laughed in the face of anyone suggesting they wear one. They claimed all the safety equipment in the world hadn’t helped the actor Christopher Reeves when he suffered his tragic fall from a horse. Aaron wasn’t one of those men. If Hailey had been wearing a helmet, she might have survived and he wouldn’t be a widower.

It was Aaron’s goal, his plan, to see that others did survive. Children most especially. For that reason, and to honor Hailey’s memory, he’d returned to Bear Creek Ranch.

“Did you find the leather punch?” Gary asked from the doorway.

“Not yet.” Aaron replaced the helmet. On impulse, he asked, “Do you have any of these for adults?”

“Helmets? No.”

“Can I ask why?”

Gary scratched his chin. “No reason I can think of.”

“Have any guests ever requested them?”

“One or two.” Gary’s expression changed, becoming slightly guarded.

Aaron suspected that while Gary had an obligation to answer all his questions, he didn’t want to say anything that might reflect ill on the Tuckers.

“I’m going to recommend to Jake that we purchase some adult helmets.” Aaron crossed the room to the wall of tools and removed the leather punch. He turned back around and met Gary’s gaze head-on. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“Not at all.”

A safe, noncommittal answer. Aaron wasn’t annoyed at Gary. On the contrary. He admired the man for his loyalty to his employer.

The morning ride went smoothly. Gary didn’t say much the first hour. He must have grown tired of listening to himself think, because he eventually opened up and began chatting. They rode the two shortest trails first. Using a GPS device, Gary marked locations for the maintenance crews to check.

“What about the hiking and ATV trails?” Aaron asked. They guided their horses around a fallen log.

“Those are to the east and south of the ranch. Horse trails are to the west. We have crews inspecting those as well.”

“Are all the trails on ranch property?”

“The shorter ones are. The longer ones cross over onto federal land. We stay in constant contact with the neighboring ranches. They let us know in what areas their cattle are grazing so we can avoid any accidental run-ins.”

Gary was in the middle of telling Aaron about the all-day trail rides, which were combined with mini fishing trips, when the radio clipped to his belt emitted a loud beep.

Pulling his horse to a stop, he held the radio to his mouth and said, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Where are you?” a male voice Aaron didn’t recognize asked.

“Five miles out. At the base of Windy Pass.”

“Hoof it on back. Jake’s orders.”

“Something wrong?” Gary shifted in his saddle, his steel-gray brows drawn together in a deep V.

“He needs Aaron back here on the double.”

“What for?” Aaron asked, feeling himself tense. Jake was up to something.

“Did he say what for?” Gary repeated Aaron’s question into the radio.

“Nope. And I didn’t ask.”

“All right.” Gary signed off after giving the caller their ETA.

It was faster to ride the trail to the end than turn around. Once again, he and Aaron talked very little. Probably because the scowl on Aaron’s face discouraged conversation. He considered refusing to return then thought better of it. Gary could wind up taking the heat for something that wasn’t his fault.

It was past one o’clock when they arrived back at the ranch, and Aaron was hungry. Had Jake’s call not come in, he and Gary would have broken for lunch. While Aaron was unsaddling Dollar, Natalie arrived in her golf cart. She parked far enough away not to spook the horses.

Walking toward him, she waved hello.

Because he liked what he saw, he stopped to watch. Her strides were long and her shoulders straight. She might only be a shade above five-six, but she carried herself like someone much taller. Aaron supposed there were guys put off by a woman exuding so much self-confidence. Not him. She had the makings of a true competitor, and Aaron found that a whole lot sexier than tight jeans and a low-cut blouse.

“I’m your ride,” she said, going up to Dollar and scratching him between the ears.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I was just told to come get you.”

“And take me where?”

She followed him when he carried his saddle and bridle into the tack room. “Founders Cabin. It’s where Walter and Ida Tucker lived. They were the original owners of the ranch and started the resort.”

“Hailey and Jake’s grandparents?”

“That’s right. After they passed on, their cabin was converted into a sort of museum and conference center.”

“Conference center?” Aaron had grabbed a brush on his way out of the tack room. “As in meetings?”

“Yes.”

She knew more than she was telling, Aaron would bet on it. But like the rest of her family, her loyalties lay rock solid with the Tuckers.

“We’d best hurry.” She checked her watch. “My orders were to take you to the cabin as soon as you and Dad got back.”

She was the second person to mention “orders” that day, and Aaron’s hackles rose. Jake Tucker really did like to throw his weight around.

“We’ll head out as soon as I put up Dollar and grab something to eat.” The sandwiches he and Gary packed that morning were still in their saddlebags.

“But Jake said I sh—”

“I don’t really care what he said.”

Natalie retreated a step, her internal struggle evident on her face.

Aaron swore under his breath. Like her father, she didn’t deserve to be put in the middle of his test of wills with Jake, and he was wrong to involve her. But something inside Aaron wanted Natalie to stand up to her boss. Defy him. Choose Aaron over him.

She wouldn’t, of course. Not in a million years.

“I’m sorry. I had no right taking my frustration with Jake out on you.”

She nodded mutely.

“He has a talent for rubbing me the wrong way.”

“I’d say it’s mutual.” Her expression was mildly reproachful.

Inhaling slowly, Aaron continued in a calmer tone. “Jake’s waited this long for me, five more minutes won’t make a difference. I’ll tell him that you did your best to hurry me along, but I refused. Everyone here will vouch for you.” He gestured at the half-dozen hands milling about the stable area, staring at them and trying their darnedest not to be conspicuous about it.

Her father was the exception. He kept a close, unguarded eye on his daughter.

“Okay.” Natalie went back to the golf cart, strides still long, shoulders still straight.

He’d won her over. Sort of. Aaron felt a small rush of satisfaction he wasn’t entitled to but enjoyed nonetheless.

After returning Dollar to his stall, he grabbed a sandwich and a cold soda, then slid onto the seat beside Natalie.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Let’s not keep the man waiting.” Which, of course, was exactly what Aaron had done.

She smiled at his joke, and he was glad—very glad, really—there was no residual tension between them.

Aaron wolfed down his sandwich and drink while they drove, which was a good thing. The trip to Founders Cabin was a short one. Located away from the other bunkhouses and main lodge, the cabin sat atop a small hill amid a dense thicket of trees. Not close to anything except a narrow tributary of Bear Creek.

There were two cars and one pickup truck parked outside the cabin. Natalie eased the golf cart between the vehicles and stopped beside a stone walkway leading to the front porch.

Aaron glanced over at her. The guilty expression she wore gave her away.

“Please. I don’t want to walk in there blind.” He impulsively laid a hand over the one she rested on her leg, and curled his fingers around hers. “Tell me what’s going on.”

She swallowed, and her gaze traveled to their joined hands, reminding him that he’d once again placed her in an unfair position.

He was about to retract his question when she suddenly blurted, “Jake’s called a family meeting. I don’t know why or what it’s about. He doesn’t tell me these things, and he doesn’t have to.”

“Thanks.” Aaron gave her hand a brief squeeze.

He didn’t turn around after climbing out of the golf cart, not even when Natalie started the engine and drove away. At the bottom of the porch steps, he paused to read an engraved brass monument sign. It told a short history of Walter and Ida Tucker and how they started the resort. They were an interesting and colorful couple. Aaron was sorry he never had the opportunity to meet them.

But as luck would have it, he was about to meet, and go head-to-head with, their offspring.

Chapter Four

Aaron silently fumed.

His former brother-in-law had been in an all-fired rush to start the meeting only until he arrived. From the moment he stepped over the threshold, Jake had kept everyone waiting while he made one phone call after the other.

To kill time, and avoid the rest of the family seated at the conference table, Aaron wandered the room. He paused in front of a tall bookcase crammed with leather-bound photo albums and removed one at random. Black-and-white snapshots filled every page. Beneath each snapshot someone had written dates, names, and brief descriptions in neat, square lettering. Aaron got his first look at Walter and Ida Tucker, the couple who started the ranch. They were sitting around the outdoor fireplace in front of the dining hall, surrounded by guests.

“My mother and father,” a voice from behind him said.

Aaron turned to find a handsome woman with lively eyes and an engaging smile peering over his shoulder. She was the only Tucker in the room to get within ten feet of him, much less talk to him.

“You’re Jake’s mother?” he asked, looking for a resemblance and finding only a hint of one.

“Heavens, no.” The woman’s laughter was rich and robust. “If that boy were my son, he’d have a sense of humor and good manners. Being as he’s my brother’s son, he lacks both.” She held out her hand. “I’m Millie Sweetwater.”

Aaron thought he just might learn to like Jake’s aunt. “I’m Aaron Reyes.” He balanced the photo album in the crook of his left arm so that he could shake her hand.

“I know who you are.” Her grip was firm, rivaling any man’s. Any young man’s. “Heard you finally decided to grace us with your presence about an hour after you drove onto the property. Got here right under the wire. Another few days and you’d’ve missed out on all this fun.”

“Being a member of the Tucker Family Trust is fun?”

She winked. “From where I sit, it’s a hoot.”

No doubt about it. He definitely liked Millie.

Liked her even more when he caught Jake glowering at them from the head of a large oak conference table, his cell phone glued to his ear. To his left sat two women who conversed in whispers, probably about him. Jake’s cousins, Aaron presumed, which would make them Millie’s daughters. On the other side of Jake sat his personal assistant, Alice. She didn’t converse with anyone.

“There’s Hailey.” Millie tapped a finger on one of the snapshots. “That girl always did love horses. It must have been very hard on you when she died.”

There was a sadness in Millie’s voice that affected Aaron more than her words. It was quickly overshadowed by an anger he’d had no outlet for until now.

“Why the sudden sympathy? You Tuckers barely acknowledged me when Hailey had her accident, much less offered your support.”

Millie didn’t so much as blink. If anything, she appeared more sorrowful. “Our behavior was appalling. Inexcusable. I, for one, am sorry. But your behavior wasn’t all that commendable either,” she gently reprimanded. “You should have come to the memorial service.”

“Your family didn’t want me here.”

“We’d have tolerated you.”

As they were now? “Is that why you’re being nice to me today? To clear your conscience?” Guilt gave Aaron’s voice an edge. He should have stood up to Jake and come to Hailey’s memorial service instead of hiding behind a wall of grief.

“I deserved that, which is why I won’t let your anger ruin our friendship.” The twinkle in Millie’s eyes reappeared.

Aaron found it hard to stay mad. “You think we’re going to be friends?”

“Good ones.” She glanced at Jake before patting Aaron’s arm. “Would you like to see more pictures of Hailey growing up? There are lots of them. We have albums for every year the resort’s been in operation. Ma insisted on it.”

“Sure.” He grinned. Whatever reason Millie had for being nice to him—and she had one, she was too wily not to—Aaron didn’t care as long as it irritated Jake.

She flipped to a new page in the album and said, “There’s all the cousins.” The six Tucker grandchildren sat grouped together on the floor in front of a huge, elaborately decorated Christmas tree. “Jake’s not only the oldest grandchild, he’s the only boy.” Millie chuckled. “And then the poor man goes and has three daughters. It’s not entirely his fault he turned out to be such a stick-in-the-mud. Natalie’s no relation but they’ve known each other their whole lives, and he’s as overprotective with her as the rest of the women in his life.”

Aaron changed the subject. For some reason he wasn’t inclined to talk about Natalie with any of the Tuckers, even the one being nice to him.

“You have four daughters?” He studied Hailey’s young face. She’d had the same exuberance about her as a child as she’d had as an adult.

“Oh, yes. Carolina and Rachel over there are my two middle ones. Don’t be put off. They’re not nearly as mean as they appear,” Millie teased. “My oldest is married and lives in Colorado.”

“You must miss her.” Aaron’s own mother complained frequently of his long absences.

“Yes, but the benefit of the family trust is that she’s required to spend eight weeks a year here. She splits her weeks up, taking them two at a time. This last time she brought my brand-new granddaughter with her.”

“Another girl?” He turned pages as Millie talked.

“It’s a family curse.”

Aaron’s mind went to Hailey. What might the sex of their children have been had she lived?

“My youngest is in the service.” Millie glowed with pride. “She’s a warrant officer for the army. I have a shop in Payson with Natalie’s mother, and I’m also the wedding coordinator for the ranch.”

“Is your brother still at the college?”

Because he and Hailey had eloped, Aaron didn’t meet his father-in-law until later, though she’d talked a lot about him. When Jake took over the ranch eight years ago, their father followed his lifelong dream of teaching and became an instructor at nearby Gila Community College.

“Are you kidding?” Millie said. “He loves it. Swore running a resort wasn’t his thing. Well, guess what he teaches?”

“Business?”

She harrumphed. “Hospitality and tourism management.”

Aaron wasn’t sorry his former father-in-law had to miss the meeting. Not that he’d expected the red-carpet treatment from him, either. Only after he and Hailey were married did he understand his wife’s reluctance to invite her family to the ceremony. The Tuckers weren’t thrilled with her chosen groom, especially her father and brother, and let her know it.

Aaron closed the photo album and returned it to its slot. He was enjoying talking to Millie but growing impatient with Jake’s stall tactics. “Why exactly are we here?”

“A family meeting. Jake’s authority to act on behalf of the trust has limitations. Whatever he has on the agenda must require a majority vote. If not, we wouldn’t have been summoned. Didn’t our attorney explain everything to you?”

“I wasn’t paying much attention.” Aaron had existed in a fog for months after Hailey’s death.

“Well, if you have any questions, call him. I can give you his number.”

“Jake doesn’t need me for a majority vote. He’s gotten along so far without me.”

“Ah, but he does. The trust stipulates that any members residing on the ranch are required to attend meetings. If he weren’t bound by the trust, you’d still be riding the trails with Gary.”

“Is everyone ready?” Jake snapped shut his cell phone and dropped it into his shirt pocket.

“Waiting on you,” Millie chirped.

She and Aaron wandered to the table and chose seats. Aaron selected his because it was next to Millie and directly across from Jake. They immediately locked gazes.

Aaron wasn’t the type to fold under pressure. It was a quality he’d honed, one that had enabled him to rise from a nobody at age nineteen to a national champion at age twenty-four.

Jake broke eye contact in order to distribute papers to everyone present. He explained to the group how the company they leased their fleet of ATVs from had waited until the last minute to announce a rate hike, one that far exceeded the ranch’s budget.

Options were discussed, everything from locating another leasing company to paying the higher rate. Aaron listened far more than he contributed. There wasn’t much he could add. And though he hated to admit it, Jake clearly was no dummy when it came to running the ranch. After a final round of discussion, a vote was taken.

The meeting was at an end when Aaron finally spoke up. “I have something I want to talk about.”

“You do?” One corner of Jake’s mouth curved up, either in amusement or disdain. It was hard to tell. His smile didn’t differ much from his frown. “Does it involve spending money?”

“Could.”

Jake made a show of checking his watch. “Can it wait until our regular monthly meeting on the twentieth? Alice will put it on the agenda.”

“This won’t take long.” Aaron’s insistence increased in proportion to Jake’s attempts to blow him off.

“I have a three o’clock appointment in town,” Jake said with a finality that implied his patience was at an end.

“Play nice, Jake,” Millie warned, all trace of her earlier congeniality gone. “Aaron has the right to initiate a discussion. Same as any of us.”

Aaron understood then what she’d meant about shaking things up.

If Jake was annoyed with his aunt, he covered it well. “Since when have the conditions of the trust interested you?”

“Since yesterday.” She broke into the wide, sassy smile of a person truly enjoying herself. “You’re an excellent manager of the family business, Jake. Better even than your father. But let’s be honest. You can also be a pain in the rear.”

One cousin looked away, the other one giggled.

Jake’s scowl lasted a mere two seconds. “If I am a pain in the rear, I inherited it from you.”

“One of my finer traits.” Millie laughed.

Aaron had to hand it to them. The Tuckers may not be an easy family to belong to, but their bond was strong.

Not unlike his own family.

He made a silent vow to visit home more often. The majority of his siblings and their families still lived in and around the Phoenix area and those who didn’t would make the drive—hopefully. In escaping his grief over Hailey, he’s pushed away the people who loved him the most. Maybe it wasn’t too late to change…

“Fine, Reyes. What is it you want to talk to us about?”

Jake’s abrupt question roused Aaron. “Riding helmets.”

“Really,” Jake said with practiced neutrality.

“I found three children’s helmets in the tack room this morning. There were no adult helmets.”

“Don’t recall we’ve ever had a need for them.”

“I asked Gary Forrester, and he told me a couple guests have requested them.”

“What exactly are you proposing?” Jake sat back in his chair, but there was nothing relaxed about him. Beneath the table, one knee bounced, and he held his pen in a death grip.

“That we buy three more children’s helmets and six adult helmets. I also think we should posts signs in the main lodge and at the stables, informing guests that helmets are available should they want one.”

“We?”

Aaron paused. Was the slip unconscious or had he finally begun to accept his position in the family?

“How much do helmets cost?” Carolina asked.

“For good ones, a hundred to a hundred and fifty each.”

“The yearly budget’s already been approved,” Jake said firmly. “We don’t have any extra funds.”

“It’s a thousand dollars, Jake,” Millie answered with equal firmness. “I think we can find a place in the budget for that without throwing the entire ranch finances into turmoil. Alice, do you have the new budget on your laptop?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She grabbed the wireless mouse and began clicking.

“You might save that much in liability insurance,” Aaron suggested. “Talk to your agent.”

Jake leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. “Are you an insurance expert now?”

“No, but I’ve carried plenty of it over the years.”

“On Hailey?”

“On me,” Aaron answered steadily and fought to remain calm.

Jake was baiting him, Aaron recognized the ploy. He’d had it used on him by his four brothers and two sisters—and used it on them in return—all the years they were growing up.

“Hey,” Carolina interjected. “No reason to go all testosterone on us.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Rachel appealed to Jake. “Seriously.”

“Guests may get the idea riding isn’t safe.”

“Sometimes riding isn’t safe. We all know that.” Carolina glanced at Aaron.

He wondered if he’d gained another ally or at least some ground.

“Guests may also feel reassured by the availability of helmets,” she said with noticeably growing confidence. “That their safety is our top concern.”

Jake’s jaw visibly clenched. “This isn’t anything we should jump into without careful consideration.”

“I agree.” Millie smiled approvingly. “I make a motion that we table the discussion of purchasing helmets until the next regular meeting. In the meantime, Alice can contact our insurance agent, see if we qualify for a rate break. And Aaron can obtain prices so we know exactly what the cost will be.”

She was no dummy when it came to running the ranch either.

Aaron figured now was a good time to drop his final bombshell. “What if the helmets were free of charge?”

That got everyone’s attention.

“You have some?” Carolina asked.

“No. But I know where we might be able to get them.”

“Where?”

Jake snorted.

Carolina bristled. “Honestly, Jake. If we can get the helmets at no cost, what’s the harm in providing them?”

“Nothing’s for free. There’s always a catch.”

“No catch,” Aaron said. “I know of an organization that promotes equestrian safety. We can apply to them for a grant and if they approve our request, the helmets are ours. No charge.”

“What organization is that?” Jake’s gaze narrowed with suspicion.

Aaron met it head-on. “The Hailey Reyes Foundation for Equestrian Safety. I’m the chairman.”

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