A risk worth taking

From the moment they meet, Matt Boyd knows Rachel Wainwright is The One. Doesn’t matter that he’s from the wrong side of town or that her family has bigger plans for her. They belong together—and they defy the odds to be with each other. Contrary to what everyone says, they will make it.

But when an unexpected tragedy drives a wedge between them, everything they share seems in jeopardy. Matt knows Rachel deserves the truth about what happened. Yet that truth could turn her away from him…forever. Before it’s too late, he needs to remind her that this relationship is worth fighting for.

”You knew we were meant to be together. We still are.”

Matt sized her up. And Rachel knew all too well the sensuous grin that followed. She didn’t want to experience that same old desire for him, yet it crept along her flesh, leaving a blanket of goose bumps.

He moved closer. “You’re still sexy as hell. And we can still be good together.”

“Sleeping together isn’t going to solve our problems.”

“But it might make us forget them for a while.”

When she turned to protest, he reeled her in for a kiss. A sultry, suggestive kiss. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d kissed this way. Couldn’t remember the last time they’d been this close. She did recall all those nights she’d needed him, but anger and resentment had prevented her from acting on that need.

She’d forgotten how good he felt in her arms. Truthfully, she hadn’t let herself remember. But now it all came back to her, all the things she’d come to appreciate over the years. The way he’d always held her in the aftermath, making her feel secure and cherished. Loved.

Dear Reader,

I’ve often wondered how people who marry at a young age manage to stay married, particularly when the odds seem stacked against them. Truth is, I’ve known two couples who are still happily united after thirty-plus years. I’ve found they share several common traits—mutual respect, the ability to grow and change together, a shared sense of humor and above all, an abiding love for each other. Out of curiosity, I asked one of those wives her secret for long-term success. She simply answered that she couldn’t imagine her life without her husband. That depth of commitment seems to say it all.

But what happens when two seemingly happily married people face a devastating loss that threatens to tear them apart? That’s what this story is all about. A couple who make a few wrong choices for all the right reasons. Choices that could make or break the marriage, because sometimes love isn’t quite enough.

I hope you enjoy this emotional ending to the Delta Secrets series. I’m admittedly sad to say goodbye to my fictional friends known as the “six-pack,” but I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about their journeys as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them.

All the best!

Kristi Gold

The Only Man for Her
Kristi Gold

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kristi Gold has a fondness for baseball, beaches and bridal reality shows. She’s always believed that love has remarkable healing powers and feels very fortunate to be able to weave emotional stories highlighting love and commitment. As a bestselling author, National Readers’ Choice winner and a three-time Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist, Kristi has learned that although accolades are wonderful, the most cherished rewards come from networking with readers. You may contact Kristi through her website at http://kristigold.com, Facebook or through email at kgoldauthor@aol.com.

To my amazing children, Ashley, Kendall and Jordan, who’ve taught me that it’s the little things in life—and love—that matter most.

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

BPA

PROLOGUE

AS THEY TRAVELED the winding roads threading through the Smoky Mountains, Rachel Wainwright sent a sideways glance at Matthew Boyd, the boy who’d been the center of her existence for the past six years. Threads of gold glinted in his light brown hair, complementing his bright blue eyes that he kept trained on the road ahead. She’d left her home and financial security behind to make this ultimate journey with him, defying her father and, as some would say, the odds.

But before they went any further with their plans, she had to know if he was truly ready to take the next step—marriage. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Matt turned down the radio and gave her only a quick look before returning his attention straight ahead. “Only if you’ll promise me one thing.”

She would promise him just about anything. “Okay.”

“You won’t ask me again if I’m sure.” He topped off the comment with a grin, the one she’d fallen in love with in the second grade, even if she hadn’t fallen completely in love with him until five years later. That in itself had posed a problem. She was the daughter of a millionaire, and he the son of a mill worker. Her daddy had never accepted her relationship with Matt, but she hadn’t let that stop her. Still, he’d be furious if he knew she was eloping, not attending freshman orientation at the university. When all was said and done, he’d have to learn to live with it—provided Matt didn’t change his mind.

“I know I keep asking if you’re ready,” she said. “But everyone’s been saying that eighteen’s too young to get married and we should wait until after college. Do you wonder if maybe they’re right?”

His smile dissolved into a frown. “Are you coming down with a case of cold feet, Rachel?”

She shook her head. “No. I just don’t want you to have any regrets.”

He reached over and pushed a loose strand of hair away from her cheek. “I only regret that I couldn’t convince your dad that we’re meant to be together. That way you could’ve had the dress and the cake and the church wedding you’ve always wanted.”

“None of that matters.” And it didn’t. Being with Matt—marrying Matt—was the only thing that mattered.

His smile returned, but only halfway. “Glad to hear it. I reserved a honeymoon cabin that’s got a king-size bed with our name on it. And since you’ve made me wait all these years for the lovemaking, I plan to put that bed to good use for the next two nights.”

Despite her excitement over finally being with Matt in every way, she pretended to pout. “Then you’re only marrying me for the sex, huh?”

“I’m marrying you because you’re the only girl for me.”

And he was the only boy for her. Always had been, always would be.

“Okay, then,” she said. “We’re going to do fine, as long as we stick to our plan.” The plan that had been two years in the making. “First we finish college.”

“Then we buy the clinic,” he added.

She wholeheartedly supported Matt’s dream of becoming a veterinarian, even knowing it would require compromise on both their parts. “I’ll run the office while you’re becoming the best vet Placid, Mississippi, has ever seen.”

“You bet,” he said. “And when we’ve saved enough money, we’ll build that house on my grandfather’s land.”

Then came the most important part, at least to Rachel. “Don’t forget the babies. I’m thinking two or maybe three.” A boy first, with dark eyes and hair like hers, and then a girl, with Matt’s sun-streaked light brown hair and blue eyes. Or they could both look like Matt, as long as they were happy and healthy.

He tugged at his tie, as always looking uncomfortable when the subject of kids came up. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Right now we have to get married, and it looks like we’re almost there.”

Matt navigated the pickup to the right where a sign pointed the way to the Wayhurst Wedding Chapel, two miles ahead. Rachel could see only more rugged, wooded terrain and a few remote cabins peeking out from the thick grove of trees. “How did you find this place?”

“I went to the library in Memphis before school let out,” he said. “The reference librarian helped me find it, then I gave them a call and made the arrangements.”

Rachel worried Matt had spent too much money when a simple courthouse wedding would have been fine. “How much did it cost?”

“Not a lot. I told the lady named Helen who runs the place that we’re kind of strapped for cash and that it’s only going to be us at the wedding. She booked us this evening for a fourth of the normal rental fee. They also had a wedding earlier in the day, so we’ll get to take advantage of the decorations.”

More than likely he’d earned the discount using his trademark charm. “That’s very nice of her, but I have my trust fund. I could’ve taken some of it and told my dad I needed it for school.”

“You know how I feel about touching that money, Rachel.”

Oh, yeah, she knew. And sometimes his pride grated on her nerves like sandpaper on cypress. “You might as well accept it. We’re going to have to use part of my trust to get through school.”

“You can use it for your tuition, but I’m going to pay for everything else.”

Obviously he didn’t mind starving, she started to say, but withheld the comment in order not to spoil their special day.

As they rounded a hairpin curve, their destination finally came into view. And what a view it was. The sun had begun to set behind the hazy mountains, the emerald valley beyond serving as a breathtaking backdrop to the white chapel with ornate stained-glass windows and a heavy wooden door.

Rachel was both awed and appreciative as she stared in disbelief at the scene. If only her friends and family were there to witness the ceremony, the day would be perfect. “Oh, Matt. It’s beautiful. It looks like a postcard.”

“It sure does,” he said as he pulled the truck into a parking space in the empty lot. “Only the best for my bride.”

My bride.

In a matter of moments, she would be a bride. A bride with a typical case of butterflies in her belly.

Matt shut off the truck and shifted to face her. “Looks like it’s time to make it official.”

Rachel swallowed around a little knot of nerves. “Looks like it.”

He gave her a soft kiss. “Then let’s do this.”

Without hesitating, Matt slid from the cab, rounded the truck and opened the passenger door to help her out. Once her high heels hit the pavement, Rachel adjusted the knee-length white linen dress and smoothed a shaky hand over her hair. “Do I look okay?”

“As pretty as a Mississippi moon, darlin.’ I’m the luckiest damn man in the world, and you’re the most beautiful bride to ever walk this earth.”

She straightened his tie and the sports coat’s lapels. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“But I am forgetting somethin’ important.” He leaned into the truck, opened the glove compartment and withdrew a small black box. “We can’t get married without this.”

She lifted the lid to find a silver wedding band circled with tiny diamond chips. “I can’t believe you did this!”

He cleared his throat. “It was my mom’s. My dad told me she wanted me to have it to give to my wife. I know it’s not the nice set you deserve, but I promise someday I’ll buy you a new one.”

“It’s beautiful, Matt, and it’s special. I couldn’t imagine ever wearing another ring once you put this one on my finger. But I feel so bad because I don’t have a ring for you.”

He slid the box into the pocket of his slacks. “It’s okay. We can get one later.”

Rachel couldn’t fight the sudden melancholy. Couldn’t quite hold back the tears. This was her wedding day. A happy day. The most important day of her life to this point. But a few things were still missing.

When she lowered her eyes, Matt framed her face in his palms, forcing her to look at him. “Even if I’m not wearing a ring, that doesn’t mean I’m any less married to you. Besides, I’m left-handed, and when I start vet school, I wouldn’t be able to wear it anyway.”

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s not only the ring. I was just thinking how nice it would have been to have my mom with me.” The mother who’d died shortly after giving birth to her daughter. “I know that sounds crazy, since I never had the chance to know her, but I still miss her. Don’t you wish your mom were here?”

He studied the pavement beneath his boots. “No use wishing for things that can’t be.”

She wasn’t exactly surprised by his attitude. He’d never been one to open up about his mother’s death, ironically the event that had brought them together. In fact, revealing the wedding ring had belonged to Meg Boyd had been the most he’d said about her in years. But his bravado didn’t fool Rachel. She was certain that not a day had gone by during the past five years that he hadn’t thought about his mom, or felt guilty over not being there the day she’d died. “You know, I’m not sure what’s worse. Losing someone you’ve known all your life or a loved one you never knew at all.”

He took her hands into his and gave her a heartfelt look that he reserved only for her. “I don’t know, Rachel. But I do know you’re never going to lose me.”

She prayed that always remained true. “And you’re never going to lose me, either.”

After he hugged her tightly, Matt stepped back and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Can we go in now, or do you want me to ask if we can be married right where we stand?”

“Since I want to walk down the aisle, we should probably go inside.”

He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Then let’s go get hitched so we can get to that honeymoon.”

She gave him her smile as easily as she’d given him her heart. “Let the hitching begin.”

Matt offered her his hand. “Shall we, darlin’?”

Rachel laced her fingers with his and held on tightly. “We shall.”

As Matt guided her up the walkway, Rachel prepared to pledge her future to the love of her life. For better or worse. In sickness and health. Through good times and bad.

At that moment she simply couldn’t imagine anything but a lifetime of good.

CHAPTER ONE

I’M NOT SURE what’s worse. Losing someone you’ve known all your life or a loved one you never knew at all.

After thirteen years of marriage, Matt Boyd finally knew the answer to the question Rachel had posed on their wedding day—both were equally bad.

Steeped in despair, he sat alone in the barren nursery with his back against the wall, a miniature baseball glove in one hand, a glass of smooth Kentucky bourbon in the other. He visually tracked the multicolored wild horses that ran along the pale blue wall, each one carefully painted by his wife. Then his gaze came to rest on the black letters stenciled above the empty space where the crib had been.

Caleb. His son.

He’d known him for only a few short hours. He’d known his son’s mother much of his life. Now both were gone. Four months ago his child had left this world at the cruel hand of nature. A month ago Rachel had left because he’d given her little choice. Or so she’d said the day she walked out on him.

Since that time, he’d awoken every morning in their bed and reached for her. The space beside him was always empty, exactly as he felt right now. He’d tried to convince himself her absence was only temporary. After all, most of her clothes still hung in the closet, and her shoes still lined the shelves. Everything in this house that they’d built together reminded him of her.

Turning to the bottle had been the only thing to help tune out the memories of her bitter accusations. Maybe he was an emotionally closed-off bastard. Maybe lately he did drink too much. Maybe he was unreadable. Unredeemable. But disposing of their marriage like yesterday’s news made her pretty damn unredeemable, too.

After coming to his feet, Matt set the glove on the vacant shelf, left the room and stood in the hallway outside the master bedroom. He raised the almost empty glass for a toast to his estranged wife. “Congratulations on running home to your daddy, darlin’.”

After he downed the rest of the whiskey that burned as badly as the unshed tears, Matt hurled the tumbler with the force of his fury. Shards of crystal rained down the closed door in splinters and shattered the silence. He stared at the scattered glass, hating his total lack of control. He had a good mind to leave the mess, but Rachel would be madder than a wet hen if he did. Like she was there to notice.

He gathered the largest pieces of crystal in his open palm and headed down the hall toward the kitchen, muttering a few oaths aimed at his stupidity, followed by a few indictments of his wife. So what if she’d left for good? He could get by without her. No use having her around if she didn’t want to be there. Goodbye and good riddance.

Still, when the doorbell chimed, the same old hope came calling again. Hope that she’d come to her senses and wanted to reconcile, canceling every negative thought he’d entertained only moments before. His fist automatically tightened, jabbing a jagged glass edge into his thumb. The cut stung like a scorpion bite, but he didn’t care. He cared only about getting to the door before she turned and left.

Then again, he didn’t want to seem too eager, so he tossed the fragments into the trash, turned on the kitchen faucet to rinse the trickle of blood from his finger and finally made his way to the front door after the third ring.

But he didn’t find Rachel waiting on the threshold—only a good friend he hadn’t seen in a while.

Sam McBriar had always been the serious type, and he seriously looked as if he might be on a mission. “Got a few minutes to spare?” he asked.

Matt mentally ran through a laundry list of excuses not to let him in, but the questions about his and Rachel’s recent breakup were inevitable. Might as well get it over with. “Sure. Come on in.”

He stepped aside and guided Sam through the great room to the dinette adjacent to the kitchen. “Sit,” he said as he gestured toward a chair.

Sam grabbed a seat and surveyed the take-out boxes from the local diner and the crumpled beer cans spilling out from the overflowing garbage can. Then his gaze came to rest on the open whiskey bottle set out on the counter. “Did you tie one on last night and fire the maid in the process?”

Matt pulled out the chair opposite Sam and collapsed into it. “Yeah, I know. I’m a freakin’ cliché. Wife leaves husband. Husband wallows in self-pity and garbage.”

“And booze?”

No sense in denying the obvious. “I have a couple of beers after work, just like I always have.”

“But you’ve been hittin’ the hard stuff today.” Sam posed the comment as a statement of fact, not a question.

“It’s Saturday.” The only legitimate excuse he could come up with. “I don’t have any calves to pull or colicky mares I have to treat. Besides, I only had one drink.”

Sam made a show of checking his watch. “It’s barely past noon.”

Matt’s anger began to simmer right below the surface. “Who died and made you my guardian?”

“I’m not telling you what to do, Matt,” he said. “I’m just questioning why you feel the need to drink whiskey after what you’ve been through with your dad.”

His friend could have gone all day without mentioning that sorry subject. “Look, I’m not my dad. I’m not hanging out in the bars every night and getting so drunk that I can’t work. I still put in ten-hours-plus a day down at the clinic. I see no harm in having a drink now and then. Nothing better to do.”

Sam shook his head. “Man, this isn’t like you at all. You’ve always been a scrapper, ready to fight for what you want. You’re never gonna get her back if you just sit around feeing sorry for yourself.”

The chance that Rachel was going to come back grew slimmer every day. “I can’t make her do something she doesn’t want to do. And right now she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

His friend sat quietly for a few moments before he said, “Tell you what. Chase gets off patrol at seven. We’ll pick you up and do a little night fishing at Potter’s Pond. That way you’ll have something to do, at least tonight.”

Matt could see several flaws in that plan. “First of all, Rachel’s dad owns that place, and if he knows I’m there, he’s going to have me hauled into jail. Secondly, I can’t imagine your fiancée and Chase’s wife letting you take off for a fishing expedition without them. Lastly, I’m not interested in fishing today.”

Sam held up his hand and counted down, one finger at time. “First of all, Wainwright isn’t going to know we’re there, and if he finds out, we’ll have the law with us. Secondly, Savannah’s making an afternoon trip to Memphis with Jess and your wife to take care of some wedding stuff. Lastly, you need to get out of this house even if you don’t want to bait a hook.”

Matt could just imagine the conversation going on between Rachel and her friends. No doubt he was the featured topic. “I’ll think about it.”

Sam pushed back from the table and stood. “I’m not taking no for an answer. We’ll be here around seven-thirty. Just bring your pole, and Chase can take care of the bait. I’ll bring the hot dogs.”

Maybe getting out of the house for a little male camaraderie wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It did beat trying to find something decent on TV, or staring at the ceiling, wondering how everything had gone so wrong. “Okay, but I’ll meet you there on the chance the fish aren’t biting.”

“It’s April. They’ll be biting.”

“I’m still going to bring my truck.” In case his friends took it upon themselves to lecture him about saving his marriage. “And I’ll bring the beer.”

Sam frowned. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

Damn if the guy wasn’t treating him like some worthless reprobate. “We’ve always had beer on hand before. I’ll only bring a six-pack. That’s two apiece. No one’s going to get drunk on that.”

“Fine. Only two apiece. That’ll keep us all out of hot water.”

Maybe for Sam and Chase, but not Matt. He’d been up to his ears in hot water with his wife for weeks. Tonight he planned to relax and forget all about his problems. Forget that Rachel had left him high and dry. Forget that he harbored a four-month-old secret that kept him drowning in guilt. A secret that could destroy everything, especially the woman he loved.

* * *

BABIES EVERYWHERE SHE TURNED.

Even in a wedding salon, Rachel Boyd couldn’t escape the reminders of what she’d lost four months ago. A woman pushing a stroller down the sidewalk had just stopped before the picture window, leaned over and picked up a precious baby girl. The infant appeared to be around the same age Caleb would have been had he lived. But he hadn’t, and each day without him renewed her pain. Every moment without his father had been just as painful.

This was also the last place to forget her faltering marriage. The small boutique was filled to the max with giddy brides-to-be looking forward to their future. She, on the other hand, had no idea what her future might bring. But for the sake of one of her best friends, she pretended to be enjoying the outing.

Rachel glanced at the dressing-room door, anxiously awaiting Savannah’s appearance in her newly altered wedding gown. After a few more minutes ticked off, she regarded Jess, her other best friend and former sister-in-law, who seemed to be nodding off in the purple paisley chair. “What is taking her so long?”

Jess opened her eyes and hid a yawn behind her hand. “I have no idea. I swear it took me less time to plan my whole wedding.”

Considering Jess had pulled the New Year’s ceremony together in just short of three days, Rachel had to agree. “If she doesn’t come out soon, I’m going in there.”

Her friend yawned again. “I’m right behind you.”

She wouldn’t be surprised if Jess fell asleep on the way to see about the bride. “You need to tell your husband to lay off and let you get some rest.”

Jess grinned. “Why would I do that when I’m married to a gorgeous, sexy guy like Chase? But seriously, my fatigue has a lot to do with the school year ending in less than two months. Try containing twenty-two second graders who have summer vacation on their minds. It’s a good thing I like kids.”

Rachel liked kids, too. A lot. Yet it didn’t seem to be in the cards for her to have one of her own. As usual, the soul-deep sadness returned, and the nagging tears weren’t far behind.

Fortunately, Savannah emerged from the dressing room, providing a much-appreciated distraction, and a little nip of envy. Rachel had worn a simple Sunday-best white dress on her wedding day, not a formfitting, satin, halter-style gown with a silver beaded sash at the waist. Funny, that hadn’t mattered way back then, so it certainly shouldn’t matter now. For some reason, it did.

Savannah stepped in front of the three-way mirror and twisted her blond hair back at her nape. “So what do you two think?”

Rachel managed a generous smile around the memory barrage of her own simple wedding. “You look dazzling, girlfriend.”

“Sam is going to have a stroke when he sees you in that,” Jess said. “Guess I better brush up on my CPR skills.”

Savannah turned and looked over a shoulder to study her reflection, then frowned. “Are you sure it doesn’t make my hips look too wide?”

Jess rolled her eyes. “What hips? If you want to see a butt, step aside and let me in front of that mirror. We’ll make a comparison.”

“Enough about butts,” Rachel said. “Are we finished with everything here?” She hadn’t meant to sound so cross, but she truly needed to get away from “wedding central.”

Jess checked her watch. “It’s almost six and I’m starving. We should have dinner while we’re in Memphis. They have some fantastic restaurants on Beale Street.”

Rachel only wanted to go home, not wade through the masses out for a good time on a Saturday night. “I’m wearing jeans, which isn’t really appropriate dinner attire. And isn’t your husband expecting you to be back by now?”

“We’re all wearing jeans,” Jess said. “We don’t have to go to a four-star restaurant, and my husband is on deputy duty until seven, not to mention we haven’t been apart since we married. You know what they say about absence and the heart growing fonder.”

“Dinner works for me, since I told Sam we might be late,” Savannah added right when someone’s cell began to ring.

After Rachel and Jess checked their phones, Jess lifted Savannah’s purse from the floor and held it up. “It’s yours. And if that sappy love-song ringtone is any indication, it’s the groom.”

“It is.” Savannah took the cell from Jess, flipped it open and smiled. “Hey, honey. I was just about to call you…I know, I miss you, too… .”

Savannah disappeared back into the dressing room to talk to her fiancé, leaving Jess and Rachel alone to wait it out again.

Rachel wished she’d brought her own car so she could make a speedy exit. Wished she didn’t feel so ready to jump the bridal-party ship. “Let’s hope this conversation doesn’t detain us any longer than necessary.” When Jess didn’t respond, she glanced over to find her looking somewhat pale and slightly alarmed. “Are you okay, Jessica?”

Jess muttered, “No,” slapped her hand over her mouth and rushed into the nearby ladies’ room.

Rachel hated that Jess might be coming down with something, but on the other hand, it could mean the evening would be cut short. She truly wasn’t in the right frame of mind to endure a lengthy dinner. And some friend she was—worrying about her own mental condition when Jessica was obviously in distress. Just as she was about to check on her fellow bridesmaid, Jess came out of the restroom looking as jubilant as she’d been most of the afternoon. Her auburn hair, pulled back in a high ponytail, bobbed in time to her peppy gait. The former head cheerleader had returned.

“Something you ate for lunch?” Rachel asked as soon as Jess reclaimed the seat beside her.

Jess kept her eyes trained on the row of gowns to their left. “It probably has to do with not eating. My stomach doesn’t like being empty these days.”

Funny, they’d had lunch less than five hours ago. Rachel could think of only one explanation for her friend’s intestinal distress. “Are you pregnant?”

Jess still refused to look at her. “What makes you think that?”

She released a frustrated sigh. “Come on, Jessica. You’ve been yawning all day and now you’re throwing up. All signs point to morning sickness.”

Jess looked more than a little sheepish when she finally met Rachel’s gaze. “It’s afternoon.”

“That doesn’t mean a thing. When I was pregnant with Caleb, I hurled morning, noon and sometimes night. So are you or aren’t you?”

“Hungry?”

Heavens, this was like passing a bill through Congress. “Pregnant. Knocked up. With child.”

Jess looked apologetic. “All the above. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, but I didn’t want to upset you.”

Rachel had grown weary of being treated with kid gloves, and she certainly expected more from her friends. “My own loss doesn’t mean I can’t be thrilled for you and Chase. I am happy, Jess. Honestly.” She could only hope she sounded sincere. Yes, she was happy for her friends, and slightly jealous. She absolutely detested her petty feelings and vowed to keep her personal issues in check.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before Rachel went for a subject change. “How does Danny feel about having a new brother or sister?”

“We haven’t told him yet,” Jess said. “He’s been through so much over the past few months. Dealing with causing Dalton’s injuries, Dalton going to prison for trying to kill me, learning Chase is his real dad. Do we sound like a soap opera or what?”

Rachel hated what her brother had put Jess and her son through. A twenty-five-year prison sentence might not be long enough atonement time for Dalton. “High drama or not, that’s a lot for an adult to handle, much less a nine-year-old boy.”

“Yeah, but he’s been working through everything with the counselor. Luckily he loves Chase so much, the transition hasn’t been bad at all.”

Just one more loss Rachel had endured. Learning Danny wasn’t her biological nephew had been tough, but he was much better off with Chase than with her worthless brother. “I’m glad he’s doing so well. I’d love to see him at some point in time.”

“He’s mentioned a few times that he wants to visit Uncle Matt and Aunt Rachel. And speaking of Matt, when are the two of you going to call a truce so you can move back home?”

Her gal pal was nothing if not blunt. “Until he’s willing to talk about our problems and stop drinking, I’m staying right where I am.” Living alone at her father’s guesthouse in a constant state of confusion, crying herself to sleep most nights.

Jess laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t wait too long before you work things out. Take it from me, time is a precious resource that once it’s gone, you can’t get back. Just think of all the years I wasted.”

“That’s different,” Rachel said. “Chase was off fighting a war, and you were married to my brother. It wasn’t possible for the two of you to be together during that ten-year span.”

“If I hadn’t stayed in a marriage that was a dead end in the beginning, I wouldn’t have squandered that time.”

The comment threw Rachel. “Are you saying I should divorce Matt?”

Jess looked appalled. “Heavens, no. Dalton was a jerk and Matt is a great guy. I’m saying life’s too short to let pride or fear or stubbornness keep you from being happy. You and Matt have so much invested in your marriage, I know you can work it out if you try.”

Rachel understood what her friend was saying, but lately she hadn’t been at all pleased with her husband’s behavior. She hadn’t been happy with much of anything since the day she lost her child and hadn’t been given the opportunity to say goodbye. Oddly, when the tragedy should have brought them closer together, it had only driven them apart.

Savannah returned once more, fully clothed with her wedding dress bagged and draped over one arm. “Change of plans for the evening regarding dinner.”

“I have to eat soon,” Jess said, sounding borderline desperate. “This baby is determined to be fed on a regular basis.”

Savannah’s eyes went wide. “Jessica!”

Jess waved a dismissive hand at Savannah. “Calm down, Savvy. She figured it out after I tossed my cookies a few minutes ago.”

“Oh.” Savannah sent Rachel a sympathetic look. “Are you all right?”

She wished everyone would stop asking her that. “Yes, I’m fine. Life goes on and I’m excited for Jess and Chase.”

“Good. We were worried.” Savannah dropped her cell into her purse and slid the strap over her shoulder. “Anyway, after we stop by the bakery for the wedding-cake tasting, which shouldn’t take more than an hour or so, we’re going back to Placid. Sam’s making dinner.”

Jess scowled. “What about us?”

“The cake samples should tide you over,” Savannah said. “And Sam is making dinner for all of us.”

Rachel had never known Sam to be much of a cook. “Mac and cheese?”

Savannah grinned. “He says it’s a special dinner in a special place.”

A special place? Rachel didn’t like the sound of that. “Then we’re not going to your house?”

“Who cares where we have dinner, as long as we have it?” Jess came to her feet. “Right now I could eat this chair, so let’s go.”

Rachel stood and followed her friends out the door, a multitude of concerns bouncing around in her brain. Surprises weren’t always good, and her instincts told her that could very well be the case with this one.

* * *

THE GUYS HAD PULLED a fast one. Matt realized that the minute he heard the car doors slam and the sound of feminine voices. So much for a simple fishing trip down at Potter’s Pond.

When Jess and Savannah entered the clearing alone, Matt figured Rachel had bowed out when she’d learned he’d be there. Then he caught sight of her standing beside the old oak tree where they’d met in secret during their youth. She balled her fists at her sides as if she wanted to punch someone, glanced at the beer in his hand and sent him a glare hotter than the fire pit.

She’d obviously been blindsided and probably assumed he’d had a hand in pulling this little shindig together. She was dead wrong, and he planned to set her straight if she didn’t turn tail and run before he had the chance.

Matt came to his feet and waited while the other two couples delivered hello kisses and endearments, the same way he and Rachel used to carry on not all that long ago. Now they remained yards apart, in a virtual standoff that wasn’t lost on their friends.

After a round of uncomfortable quiet, Sam gestured toward the portable table holding all the food. “There’s hot dogs and some wire to roast ’em. You’ll find beer and sodas in the cooler. Help yourselves.”

To Matt, Savannah’s and Jess’s mad rush to the table, with Sam and Chase trailing behind, looked more like the result of discomfort than starvation. Not one of the foursome even sent him or Rachel a passing glance. Served them right. They should’ve known better than to try to play mass matchmakers.

When Rachel failed to move, Matt set his beer on the ground beside the lawn chair and approached her, keeping his distance in case she decided to throw that punch.

Before he could say a word, she clenched her teeth and spoke through them. “Did you have something to do with this?”

Exactly as he’d predicted. “Nope. I was as surprised as you were. Sam invited me to a guys-only fishing trip and said you and the girls were in Memphis. I just figured you’d be there most of the night.”

“You figured wrong.” She wrung her hands like an old-time washer. “One of us should leave, and I think it should be you. Don’t you need to go inoculate a cow? Or maybe that dive on the county line is calling to you?”

That just plain pissed him off, even if she did make a valid point about the bar. But when home was no longer a haven, a man had to do what he had to do. “No, sweetheart, I’m free for the evening. But I wouldn’t mind taking you home.”

“No, thanks, but you can take yourself home.”

With that, she brushed past him and joined the others at the table.

As usual, he couldn’t leave well enough alone. When he walked right up beside her, the others scattered like crows and returned to their seats around the fire.

Rachel’s refusal to look at him spurred his determination to tease a smile out of her. In order to garner her attention, he reached in front of her, speared a hot dog with a wire and held it up. “Could I interest you in a—”

“Don’t say it, Matthew.”

“Hot dog?”

“That’s not what you were going to say.”

So much for that strategy. “Didn’t know you could read my mind.”

“I’m no mind reader, but I know you. You’re an expert at double entendre.”

Time to bring out the big guns—a little soda with a side of seduction.

He moved behind her, rested a palm on her hip and leaned over to withdraw a drink from the cooler set on the end of the table. Then he straightened and touched the can against her neck where her blouse opened right above her breasts. “Here ya go, sweetheart. A nice cold cola to help cool off your temper.”

She took the can and gave him a sugary-sweet smile over one shoulder. “Here’s a news flash. I’ve become immune to your charms.”

She spun around, leaving him holding an unwanted hot dog and the urge to prove her wrong. He left the speared hot dog and went back to his chair that had conveniently been positioned next to Rachel. She didn’t hesitate to pick hers up and move it to the opposite side of the fire pit and him. If their friends hadn’t gotten the hint that this was a bad idea, they’d surely figured it out now.

Sam cleared his throat around the awkward silence and smiled. “This reminds me of old times. Remember when we ran off to Nashville that Sunday for the football game without telling our folks?”

“Who could forget?” Chase said. “We didn’t have the money to buy tickets, so we spent the day in the parking lot, tailgaiting.”

“And Matt was the only one who didn’t get grounded,” Savannah added.

Because his dad hadn’t given a rat’s ass what he did. “We should have all gotten our stories straight and then none of us would have been in trouble.”

Rachel gave him an accusatory stare. “I believe it was Matt who told Chase’s dad we went to the lake right after Chase had told him we were at the fall festival in Yazoo City.”

“Just one of my many shortcomings,” he said. “Do you want to go ahead and recite all of them while you have the chance?”

Jess jumped in quickly like a marriage referee. “Savannah’s diary got us into the most trouble.”

“Sorry,” Savannah muttered. “I had no idea my mother would read it and that she’d have the audacity to call everyone’s parents.”

Sam chuckled. “Best I recall, your dad wasn’t too happy, either. I wasn’t allowed to come over for two weeks, although that didn’t stop me from sneaking into your bedroom.”

Savannah smiled. “No, it didn’t, and we almost got caught then, too.”

“Wasn’t that the first time you two did it?” Jess asked.

Savannah’s cheeks turned red as a robin’s breast. “Yes, I believe it was.”

Sam reached over and patted her thigh. “Took me two years to convince her, but I managed to climb up that old trellis one night and sweet-talk myself right into her bed.”

“It took me five minutes to convince Jess to let me in her bed,” Chase said with a grin.

Jess rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. We didn’t plan that whole dorm-room incident. I just thought you were pokin’ fun.”

Chase leaned over and kissed his wife. “You can’t deny that was some mighty good fun.”

“A little too good,” Jess said. “That’s how we ended up with Danny. But I’m glad we did.”

Matt wasn’t too keen on the current course of conversation. Hopefully they had enough sense not to mention his and Rachel’s first time.

“When was your first time with Rachel?” Chase asked Matt.

Great. Just great. He looked at Rachel, and Rachel looked at him, right before they simultaneously said, “Our wedding night.”

Sam shook his head. “No way. To hear you tell it, Matt, you’d been doing it since the two of you hooked up in the seventh grade.”

That earned him another glare from Rachel. “Not true,” he said. “Whenever you asked, I always said that it’s disrespectful to a lady to kiss and tell.”

“He’s right,” Chase chimed in. “He was always evasive. He just let us assume they were doing it.”

“I think it’s remarkable,” Savannah said. “I can only imagine how special your wedding night was because you waited.”

Rachel shifted in her seat, a sure sign of discomfort. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, but things aren’t always what they’re cracked up to be.”

Matt could think of several responses, none of them very nice. He picked the least caustic one. “Sorry I disappointed you, sweetheart.”

Jess shot out of her chair, nearly knocking it over. “I think this hot dog’s done, and after I’ve finished this one I just might have another, since I’m eating for two now.”

That was news to Matt, but Rachel didn’t seem all that shocked by the announcement. She also didn’t seem too pleased, or maybe it was that ever-present sorrow he’d seen in her eyes for a while now. Under different circumstances, he would’ve gone to her, consoled her. But for the past few months she’d made it pretty clear she didn’t want or need his consolation. No reason to think she’d welcome it now.

She did put on her happy face, but she still couldn’t fool him. “How far along are you, Jess?”

Jess returned with a plateful of food and lowered herself into the chair. “Twelve weeks. I suppose you could say this is a honeymoon baby.”

Sam frowned. “You two got married four months ago, not three.”

Chase winked at his wife. “It was a long honeymoon.”

“Yes, it was,” Jess added. “And we wanted to wait to tell everyone, just in case.”

In case something happened with the pregnancy. Matt had been told that problems usually occurred during the first trimester, only his son had been born later in Rachel’s pregnancy. He’d been informed after the fact that having a baby always posed some risk to mother and child if something went wrong, which it had. That was a risk he didn’t care to take again. A risk he wouldn’t take again.

Rachel suddenly stood and rubbed a temple with her fingertips. “I’m sorry to cut the evening short, but I have a headache. Savannah, do you mind taking me home?”

“Not at all.”

Rachel didn’t hesitate before she took off through the trees, heading for the car at a fast clip. Matt rose and brushed past Savannah before she could move. “I’ll handle this,” he called over one shoulder, although he had no idea how he’d handle it. He only knew he had to try.

He found Rachel standing by Savannah’s luxury sedan, arms folded across her middle, her head slightly lowered. He figured she could be crying, but he also knew she’d do her best to hide it from him.

“You okay?” he asked as he approached her.

She swiped at the moisture on her cheeks with her fingertips. “No, I’m not okay. I’m tired and I want to go home.”

He saw an opportunity and grabbed it. “I’ll take you home.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

Stubborn woman. “It’s just a ride. I won’t ask to come in or pressure you into anything. We don’t even have to talk.”

“That wouldn’t be a first.” She lifted her chin and sent him a determined look. “I’d rather have Savannah take me.”

He intended to keep prodding her until she gave in. “No reason to inconvenience her when it’s on my way.”

“I appreciate the offer, but no thanks. If you want to help, then please go back and tell Savannah I’m ready to leave.”

Apparently she wasn’t going to budge, and he decided not to waste his time. He backed away, hands held up in surrender. “Fine. At least you can’t accuse me of not trying to give you what you need, although lately I damn sure don’t know what you need from me.”

“I need…” Her gaze drifted away. “Never mind.”

He did mind, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to beg her to spill it.

Matt turned and headed back to the group, scraping his forearm on a wayward branch on his way back, adding injury to insult. Now he had a cut finger and a chunk of missing flesh. As soon as he appeared in the clearing, the crowd stopped talking and stared at him as if he’d sprouted a second head. “She wants you to take her home, Savannah.”

“Okay,” Savannah said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Jess stood and handed Chase her plate. “I’ll go with her. See you guys later.”

After the girls hurried away, Matt sat back in his chair and took a drink of beer. Hot beer. He emptied the rest onto the ground, crushed the can in his fist and tossed it into the fire. “Looks like your plan to throw me and Rachel together backfired. Hope you’re both proud of yourselves.”

Sam eyed him a long moment. “Man, I didn’t realize things were that bad between the two of you.”

“Yeah, they are.” Real bad. “According to Saint Rachel, I drink too much and I don’t talk enough about my feelings. When I do try to talk to her, she doesn’t give a tinker’s damn about what I have to say. I can’t win for losing.”

“And you’re giving up on working it out, just like that?” Chase asked.

Matt shrugged. “She doesn’t want me near her, so I’m going to give her space. Lots of space.”

“Like I told you earlier today,” Sam began, “you’re traveling down the wrong road if you don’t do something and soon. Anything worth having is worth fighting for.”

He’d grown pretty sick and tired of the ongoing war and the advice. “If you’re so damn wise, how do you propose I change her mind?”

Chase forked a hand through his sandy hair. “Be persistent. Use every trick in the book to get her to come around.”

“Seduction usually works well,” Sam added. “Worked wonders for me and Savannah when she came back to town.”

Hard to mount a seduction when Rachel wouldn’t let him within five feet of her. “You can’t seduce an unwilling woman.”

Chase grinned. “You can if you play your cards right. Have you been married so freakin’ long that you don’t remember how to charm the pants off a girl?”

Sometimes he wondered if that could be the case. “I don’t take too kindly to rejection.”

“Here’s what I think you should do,” Sam said. “Give her a while to cool down tonight, then march over to Wainwright’s grand estate and politely convince her to let you in the house. After that, do your best and let nature do the rest.”

Easy for Sam to say. He didn’t run the risk of getting booted out on his ass. “And if she doesn’t let me in?”

“Then try again tomorrow,” Chase said. “Try every day until she finally listens to you. She’s bound to get tired of you hounding her.”

Maybe in a year or so. But his friends were right. He had to keep pushing until they hashed everything out. Otherwise he might never get her back home, and that wouldn’t do. “Fine. I’ll pay her a visit in a half hour or so. But right now I’m going to have another beer.”

Before Matt made it to the cooler, Sam blocked his path. “Didn’t you mention that Rachel thinks you drink too much?”

He could use a little liquid courage if he planned to see this through. “It’s only one beer. I didn’t even finish the last one.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Chase said from his chair. “If you’re going to get anywhere with your wife, then you better go there stone-cold sober. And since I’m the law, I can’t let you drive if you’ve had too much to drink.”

He’d been waylaid by the booze police. “Okay. You win. No beer.”

And no expectations. Matt had a hard time believing Rachel’s attitude would change in less than an hour. That she’d suddenly decide to hear him out when she’d done nothing but close him out of her life since after the first of the year.

Only one way to find out, and he would in a matter of minutes.

CHAPTER TWO

“DO YOU WANT US TO COME IN?”

Rachel appreciated Savannah’s offer, and she loved her friends dearly, but at the moment she needed solitude. “I’ll be okay. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I’m sure I’ll be asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.” And that was a colossal lie. She’d be lucky to get any sleep at all after the disastrous day.

“You should eat something,” Jess said from the backseat.

Her appetite had diminished the moment she’d laid eyes on Matt. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Savannah asked. “It seems you and Matt have a lot of issues to work out.”

“That’s an understatement,” Jess muttered.

Yes, it was. “I agree, and I plan to tackle that in the near future. Right now I need some rest.”

Savannah reached over the console and laid a hand on Rachel’s arm. “Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all. Just pick up the phone and call me.”

“Same here,” Jess said. “Even if you only need to talk. And if you need someone to verbally beat some sense into your husband, I’m your gal. Ask Chase.”

Jess could talk all day to Matt and it wouldn’t make a difference. Rachel had learned that the hard way. “I do have a favor to ask. Make sure someone takes Matt home if he has too much to drink. He’s been doing a lot of that lately.” One of the major issues with their marriage.

“I assure you neither Sam nor Chase will let that happen,” Savannah said. “But we’ll serve as backup, just in case.”

“Thanks.”

After doling out hugs to her friends, Rachel left the car and walked into the house alone. She flipped on several lights, hoping to make the place seem a bit more warm and inviting. But even though the two-bedroom, two-bath guest bungalow was nicer than many people’s houses, it still wasn’t home. It had afforded her some independence, at least until her father returned and insisted she move into her old bedroom, not the guest quarters. Maybe by that point she’d be back in her own house with her husband, though that seemed highly unlikely under the current circumstances. Maybe she should find a place of her own. She didn’t have enough energy to worry about that now.

Rachel set her purse on the counter, walked to the large picture window and made sure the main house was completely dark. Zelda, the maid, always went to bed with the chickens and awakened with the roosters. Meeting a millionaire’s demands was tough business.

Still restless and somewhat tense, Rachel decided a dip in the hot tub might help her relax. On that thought, she went into the bedroom and, after a brief consideration, bypassed the drawer containing her swimsuit. Normally she wouldn’t dare go outdoors in the buff, but the remote estate allowed enough privacy to stay concealed from prying eyes. Besides, she highly doubted anyone would come calling this time of night, and even if they did, they’d have to get past the security gate.

She stripped out of her clothes, wrapped an oversize towel around her torso, pulled her hair into a clip and headed toward the deck. Just to be on the safe side, she flipped off all the lights before she opened the French doors and stepped onto the deck. She stopped at the control panel mounted on the wall and turned on the jets and heater. Then in a fit of daring, she tossed the towel onto the nearby chaise and lowered herself into the tub.

After she settled into the swirling water, she leaned her head back to study the host of stars and the three-quarter moon partially concealed by the wisp of cloud. But she couldn’t fully appreciate the night sky or the country quiet. Not with so much turmoil spinning around in her brain.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to block the childish scene she and Matt had caused back at the pond. Forget that the remarkable, caring man she’d always loved had become almost a stranger and that she didn’t particularly like who she’d become in his presence.

Yet she couldn’t quite forget everything that had transpired earlier. The talk about first-time lovemaking had definitely generated more than a few memories, and not only those having to do with their wedding night. She considered all the years they’d spent together and the passion that had always existed between them, no matter what, until recently.

Even during those days when she’d been too tired, or not in the right frame of mind to make love, Matt had always had a way of wooing her right into his arms. She recalled the times he would receive a late-night emergency call, and before he left their bed, he’d always given her a kiss. A few suggestive touches. A promise to finish what he’d started. When he’d returned in the early-morning hours, he’d made good on those promises. And during those instances when she’d beaten him to the clinic, he had no qualms about locking doors and putting an end to her anticipation right there in his office.

She shivered in spite of the heat and craved what they’d once had. She longed for the past and, sadly, her husband. She couldn’t have any of it, at least not unless things changed. That didn’t keep her from wanting it back, wanting Matt… .

“Is this a private party or can anyone join in?”

Practically startled out of her skin, Rachel’s eyes shot open at the sound of the deep drawl. She could barely make out his features now set in shadows, but she didn’t have to see the owner of the voice to identify him.

She immediately sat forward and hugged her knees to cover her bare breasts. “What are you doing here, Matthew Boyd? And how did you get through the gate?”

“I know the code.”

Of course he did. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear your truck.”

He leaned a shoulder against the wall and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “I parked at the end of the drive and walked up here. When I was on my way home from the pond, I thought, I wonder what Rachel’s doing now. I just bet she’s in the hot tub, taking it easy.”

What a load of bull. “Oh, sure. You think you know me so well.”

“That I do, sweetheart.” He crouched down and swirled a finger around the water, slowly, purposefully coming only inches from her bare thigh. “I probably know you better than you know yourself. I definitely know your body better than anyone.”

The movement of his hand, although innocent enough, generated some fairly warm sensations that ran from her forehead to her toes, pooling in unseen places. At the moment, she could boil the water with her body temperature alone. And if she didn’t insist he go away now, she could make a major error in judgment. “Would you please get back in your truck and leave me alone?” Heavy emphasis on alone.

“Am I making you nervous?”

Definitely. “No. You’re making me mad because you can’t take a hint.”

“I just want to talk for a while.”

For weeks she’d tried to get him to talk, to open up about their shared tragedy. If by chance he’d finally decided to honor her request, she shouldn’t pass up the opportunity. “The whole reason I’m in this tub has to do with stress relief. I don’t want to ruin that by covering the same ground with you and getting nowhere. However, if you’re willing to finally have an honest discussion about our marital problems, I’m willing to listen.”

“I didn’t come here to get into that tonight, but I do have a couple of questions.”

Rachel’s patience began to wane. “Questions about what? The weather? The stock market? Whether Foy Lowry’s prize hog is going to win this year at the county fair?”

“Whatever floats your boat, babe.”

So much for thinking he might actually want to have a serious dialogue. “I have no intention of getting out of this tub to talk about nothing with you.”

“I didn’t ask you to get out of the tub. In fact, I’d be glad to get in there with you. I could use a little stress relief, too.”

Oh, no, no, no… “Don’t you dare.”

He released a rough sigh. “What are you afraid of? That I’m going to see you in your bikini?”

That might be a problem, were she wearing one. “No, I’m not worried about that. I just don’t feel it’s a good idea for us to be in such close proximity.”

He straightened and hovered above her. “Fine. You stay there and I’ll stay out here. But I want to see you while I’m talking to you.”

Before Rachel could issue a protest, Matt strode to the panel and flipped the switch that turned on the underwater lights. When he returned to the tub, she automatically tensed and hugged her knees closer to her torso. “Do you mind?”

He didn’t even try to conceal his blatant perusal of her body. “I don’t mind at all. You look pretty damn good, all wet and naked. But I imagine your daddy wouldn’t approve of you skinny-dipping on his sacred property.”

As usual, he never missed an opportunity to throw her father’s rules in her face. “It’s none of his business what I do.”

“Then I guess we better not tell him, huh?”

Rachel had several things she’d like to tell her husband, but he rendered her speechless when he pulled up a deck chair and sat without an invitation. “What part of ‘I want to be alone’ do you not understand, Matt?”

He stretched his long legs out in front of him, boots crossed at the ankles, hands laced atop his abdomen. “I’ll leave you alone as soon as I get what I came for. If you won’t let me come in there, and you won’t come out here, I figure we can just continue our conversation right here.”

Clearly he had no intention of leaving, at least not anytime soon. “Fine. You have five minutes to say what’s on your mind.”

“First question.”

Rachel was already dreading that question. “Go ahead, but make it quick.”

His expression turned solemn. “Do you regret that I’m the only man you’ve ever been with?”

She hadn’t expected that. Truth was, she’d never even thought about another man. “No, I don’t regret that you’re the only man I’ve slept with. Do you regret that I’m the only woman… Oh, wait. I’m not the only woman. I almost forgot about that buckle bunny you met during that summer you and Chase ran all over the state, team roping.”

“You mean that summer you broke up with me, per your daddy’s orders?”

He had her there. “You still couldn’t wait to sow your wild oats when the first pair of tight jeans and exposed cleavage presented itself.”

“And when I came clean about that, you didn’t hesitate to take me back.”

Another point scored in his favor. “I was young and stupid back then.”

He leaned forward, arms draped loosely on his knees. “Young, yeah, but not stupid. You knew we were meant to be together. We still are.”

Uncomfortable over the course of the conversation and her waterlogged state, she felt the time had come to end the soak and the exchange. She could ask Matt to toss her the towel, or she could just exit the tub and get it herself. She could request he turn his back, or she could just go for it. Going for it worked. After all, they had well over a decade of naked between them.

As soon as she rose from the tub, he sized her up with pale blue eyes that looked translucent in the soft glow reflecting off the water. She knew all too well the slow, sensuous grin that followed. Those attributes had proved to be her downfall on more than one occasion.

She didn’t want to experience that same old desire for him, yet it crept along her flesh like a firebrand, leaving a blanket of goose bumps in its wake.

If she knew what was good for her, she’d head for the safety of the house as fast as her wet feet would allow. Instead, a primal force took over, a sense of power. She grabbed the towel and slowly began to dry herself, starting with her legs and working her way up. She didn’t have to look at Matt to know he was still watching her, maybe even wanting her. She confirmed that when she took a quick glance to find him shifting in the chair before she lowered her gaze to his fly.

Yes, he definitely wanted her, but he couldn’t have her. Not tonight.

After she cocooned herself in the towel and tucked the edges between her breasts, she faced Matt to discover he’d come to his feet. “I’m going inside now,” she said in a voice that sounded grainy and unsure.

He took a few guarded steps toward her. “You know what you just reminded me of? That morning last spring, when I’d been out most of the night tending to the Fielders’ gelding. I came home and sat down at the breakfast table, and then you did that little striptease, shocking the hell out of me. Best I recall, we had one wild ride right there on the ceramic tile floor.”

A flash of heat slapped Rachel in the face when she thought about her lack of inhibition. She was almost positive she’d become pregnant that very morning. “I’d prefer to forget about that, thank you very much.”

As Matt took another few steps, she immediately backed up against the brick wall. “Are you blushing because you’re embarrassed, sweetheart?” he asked. “Or because you’re remembering how good we are together?”

A little of both. “A lot has changed since then.”

“Not everything.” He moved closer, leaving only a scant few inches between them. “You’re still sexy as hell. And we can still be good together. I’ll be glad to prove it.”

She was so, so tempted to take him up on his offer, until reality took hold. “Sleeping together isn’t going to solve our problems.”

“But it might make us forget them for a while.” He braced a hand above her head and pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear with the other. “Besides, who said anything about sleeping? I’m not tired. Are you?”

She was tired of fighting and almost ready to give up and give in. But she had to stay strong or suffer the consequences of her actions. “Again, I’m going inside. Alone. Have a nice night.”

Rachel ducked under Matt’s arm and opened the French doors, only to have him follow her inside. When she turned to protest, he reeled her in for a kiss. A sultry, suggestive kiss. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d kissed this way, deep and provocative. Couldn’t remember the last time they’d been this close. She did recall all those nights over the past few months when she’d needed him this badly, but anger and resentment had prevented her from acting on that need.

That anger still existed and should be enough to stop her now, yet her resistance began to dissolve when Matt rimmed a fingertip beneath the edge of the towel, immediately above the knot. He didn’t release it but Rachel sensed he wanted to. He was simply waiting for her permission. If she told him to stop, he would. If she demanded he go away, leave her be, he’d back off. Her husband might be determined and stubborn to a fault, but he’d never force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. Unfortunately, she wanted the intimacy. She needed the intimacy, right or wrong. Wise or not.

And in one defining moment, when feeling something other than angry and sad and resentful mattered more than wisdom, she released the towel. It fell to the floor, leaving her completely exposed, both physically and emotionally.

From that point, everything happened quickly. They headed toward the bedroom adjacent to the living area on a rush of desperate kisses. Matt guided her to the mattress’s edge, and while she watched, he yanked his T-shirt over his head and tossed it onto the floor. Then he fumbled with his fly and shoved his jeans and underwear down without even bothering to take off his boots. Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought she should say they shouldn’t be doing this, but she was already too far gone.

Matt nudged her back onto the bed and eased inside her with more restraint than she’d expected. But the sheer intensity in his blue eyes that he kept trained on hers, the tight set of his jaw showed his struggle for control. Normally he would take his time coaxing a climax from her, but Rachel didn’t need any fancy foreplay. Just the feel of his damp skin against her palms, the powerful movement of his body, coupled with a few descriptive, sexy words he whispered in her ear, proved to be more than enough.

Matt had always prided himself on making it last, but like her, he couldn’t hold out any longer. The spontaneous and ill-advised lovemaking had driven them both over the edge in record time. And with one more thrust, he collapsed against her.

Their ragged breathing echoed in the silent room as Rachel’s heart began to slow and awareness settled in. She’d forgotten how good he felt in her arms. Truthfully, she hadn’t let herself remember. But now it all came back to her, all the things she’d come to appreciate over the years. The way he’d always held her in the aftermath, making her feel secure and cherished. Loved. Yet in light of their recent troubles, she could no longer rely on that love alone.

If a person really loved his wife, he wouldn’t bury himself in work to avoid her. He wouldn’t exchange coming home to her for frequenting seedy bars on the outskirts of town. He wouldn’t ignore her grief because he refused to deal with his own.

And as the moments ticked away, and once again she mourned what used to be, what might never be again, Rachel did the only thing she could possibly do at the moment. She cried.

* * *

MATT WOULDN’T BE SURPRISED if they’d felt the explosion in the next county.

Maybe he hadn’t lost his touch after all. Here he was, with his wife in his arms following some mind-blowing sex. Maybe now they could get back on track, and she’d come back home where she belonged.

Then he felt the dampness against his shoulder, heard a soft sob and realized he’d jumped on the optimism train way too soon. The euphoria he’d felt only seconds ago disappeared as quickly as it had come.

He raised his head and found Rachel with her eyes tightly closed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Tears he’d seen quite a bit over the past few months, some he’d been responsible for. No matter what he’d said or done to try to make it better, he’d failed. Tonight was no exception.

He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “What’s wrong, Rachel?”

She released a broken sigh. “I don’t understand how this can be so right between us when everything else is so wrong.”

He should’ve figured she’d see it that way. Should’ve known that his plan to woo her back into his life had fallen flat.

Matt rolled over and draped his forearm over his eyes, blocking the light they hadn’t bothered to turn off. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to take off his boots or his jeans. Hadn’t bothered to…

The thought stopped him cold. Asking the next question could throw fuel on the conflict fire, but he had to know. “Are you on the Pill?”

“No. I haven’t had any need for birth control.”

Damn. Exactly what he’d feared. “How much of a risk did we just take?”

When he felt the mattress bend, he opened his eyes to see Rachel seated on the edge of the bed, putting on a robe. “You mean could I get pregnant?”

“Yeah. Is it possible?”

She stood, faced him and cinched the sash tightly around her waist. “Now, wouldn’t that just thrill you, Matthew?”

He couldn’t ignore her sarcastic tone or cynical look. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” she said. “You’ve never wanted any kids.”

He worked his jeans back into place and came to his feet. “I never said that.” Even if he had thought it at one time.

She crossed the room and took a seat on the frilly blue floral chair in the corner. “Maybe you never said you didn’t want a child in so many words, but your excuses have sent the message, loud and clear. First we couldn’t have a baby until after you finished vet school. Then it was establishing the practice and building the new clinic and finally the house. After that, you ran out of excuses—”

“And you got pregnant anyway.”

“Not by your choice. Sometimes I wonder if you’re relieved that you don’t have to worry about being a father anymore.”

Her accusation hit him with the force of a left hook. If she only knew what he’d been through when she’d given birth to their son, she wouldn’t be so quick to judge. But if he revealed the truth, provided any details, she’d hate him for the decision he’d made. “Nice to know you have such a damn low opinion of me. I never wanted anything to happen to the baby, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Caleb,” she said, her frame as stiff as a two-by-four. “His name is Caleb.”

She didn’t have to remind him of that. He’d chosen the name from her list of prospects. He wanted to move past this topic before he made a few confessions that would serve no purpose now. “What happened to us was unthinkable, but we have to move on. Otherwise we’ll never get over it.”

She leveled her dark eyes on him. “Maybe you can get over it, but I never will. I carried him in my belly for seven months. I felt him kick. He was a part of me. A part of us.”

They’d covered this territory before, and each time the rift between them got a little bit wider. He’d rather focus on the step they’d taken only minutes ago. A step in the right direction. “Look, Rachel, I know we’ve got a lot more ground to cover, and if you’ll let me stay, we can talk about this again in the morning when we’ve both had a good night’s sleep.”

She rose from the chair, looking every bit the regal princess her father had insisted she was. “You’re right. I’m too tired to continue this. But you can’t stay the night.”

She could be pretty pigheaded at times—not that he’d let that deter him. “I’m your husband, dammit, and if what we did a little while ago doesn’t prove there’s still something between us, something worth fighting for, then I don’t know what does.”

“It was sex, Matthew. Sex alone does not a good marriage make.”

He released a sarcastic laugh. “I thought we were making love. But then again, maybe you don’t love me anymore.”

Her gaze momentarily faltered before she brought it back to him. “As they say, love isn’t always enough.”

“I don’t care what anyone says. We belong together.” Hell, he sounded almost desperate. Probably because he was. “What can I do to convince you of that?”

“You could start by agreeing to marriage counseling or at the very least go with me to the grief-support group on Monday nights in Trimble Oaks.”

That was asking too much. “I’m not like you, Rachel. I can’t spill my guts to anyone who’s willing to listen. You knew that when you married me. How I handle my emotions is my business and no one else’s.”

She sighed. “I realize everyone grieves differently, but you don’t seem to be dealing with your grief at all, and that includes grieving for your mother. Talking about your feelings is the only way you’ll ever come to terms with loss.”

Another sad subject he didn’t want to address. “My father talks about my mother all the time, even after eighteen years, and look where he is now. Living alone and unable to work because he’s drinking himself into an early grave.”

“Lately all signs point to you heading right down the same path, Matt.”

Overcome with searing anger, he snatched his shirt from the floor and yanked it over his head. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

He headed out of the bedroom and opened the French doors with so much force, he rattled the glass. After he stepped onto the deck, the porch light came on and he glanced behind him to find Rachel standing in the doorway, looking as frustrated as he felt. He stopped and turned to present his ultimatum. “The ball’s in your court now. As soon as you decide what you want, give me a call. Until that time comes, I won’t bother you again.”

With that, he strode back down the path leading to the gate, only managing a few steps before Rachel called his name. He almost kept going, but die-hard habits brought him around to face her again. “What?”

She lowered her eyes. “I already know what I want.”

Her somber tone told him he might not want to hear it. “Then tell me, Rachel, because I swear to God, I don’t know anymore.”

Finally she brought her attention back to him, her dark eyes again filled with tears. “I want a divorce.”

Those were fightin’ words, and he wasn’t ready to wave that white flag just yet. “Well, princess, here’s a first. You just might not get what you want.”

CHAPTER THREE

“ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY SURE you want to do this?”

Rachel regarded Savannah from across the mahogany desk, on the verge of saying no and leaving the law office immediately. But her inability to resolve her marital problems kept her planted in the chair. “I’m not sure about much of anything these days. I only know I have to do something.”

Savannah leaned forward, her hands laced together atop the desk, looking every inch the serious, successful attorney. “Does Matt even know you’re contemplating a divorce?”

“I told him I wanted a divorce two weeks ago,” she said. “He came by the night we all got together at the pond, shortly after you and Jess dropped me off.”

“And his response was?”

“He said that I might not get what I want. But I haven’t heard a word from him since, so maybe he’s accepted it.” And that made her incredibly sad. She’d expected an ongoing battle, more effort to win her over. Perhaps he didn’t see any reason to fight. Perhaps he was right.

Savannah straightened a few files and set them aside. “First of all, I can’t represent you in a divorce.”

Not the news Rachel wanted to hear. “I thought you decided to practice general law, not just corporate law, when you moved here from Chicago.”

“I did, and I am, and that unfortunately includes the occasional divorce. But you and Matt are my friends, and if I represented you, I’d be taking sides. I won’t do that.”

Savannah’s loyalty didn’t exactly surprise Rachel. It did disappoint her. “What if Matt agrees to the divorce and it’s only a matter of filing the appropriate paperwork?”

“That would depend on whether you and Matt can equitably divide your assets on your own. That’s going to be impossible if he isn’t on board with it.”

The assets wouldn’t be a problem, at least as far as she was concerned. “I don’t plan to ask him for much of anything. He can have the house and the clinic. I have my own money.”

“Have you thought about calling him and discussing this?” Savannah asked. “Better still, you should consider meeting with him face-to-face.”

The last time they were face-to-face, they’d ended up body-to-body. She couldn’t let Matt sweep her off her feet and back into bed again. “The thought of seeing him is too painful. We keep going around and around and we never seem to get anywhere.”

“Do you still love him, Rachel?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitating. “But that can’t be all there is to it. I wish it could be.”

Savannah sighed. “I’m getting married in less than a month and I’m watching the most solid couple I know fall apart. If your marriage isn’t going to last, I wonder if the rest of us stand a chance.”

She reached across the desk and patted Savannah’s hand. “If you and Sam didn’t fall out of love after being apart well over a decade, then you’re meant to be together.”

“I hope you’re right.”

So did Rachel. “And I hope you’ll agree to my next request.”

Savannah narrowed her eyes. “Something tells me I might not care for it.”

Probably not, but she had to ask. “Would you at least file the papers and have Matt served? Maybe then he’ll realize I’m serious.”

Savannah frowned. “Are you using this as some sort of a wake-up call?”

“I suppose you could say that. If he’s not willing to work on our marriage after he has the proof in hand, then I’ll go ahead with the divorce.”

“Let me just caution you, Rachel. When you bandy about the word divorce, it’s always going to be hanging out there. You can’t take it back, even if you and Matt decide to reconcile.”

A chance she would have to take. Matt might be too stubborn and had too much pride to agree to her terms for reconciliation. He didn’t believe he had a drinking problem, nixed counseling altogether and he couldn’t commit to having another child. “I realize this is extreme, but he hasn’t given me much choice.”

“I still can’t represent you,” Savannah said after a brief pause. “But I will agree to file the preliminary documents, as long as you are absolutely positive this is the right thing to do.”

Right, maybe not. Necessary, definitely. “I’m as sure as I can be. It’s do-or-die time for Matt.”

Savannah removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “All right. As soon as I have the paperwork finished, I’ll call you in to sign the forms. I should have everything completed by this afternoon, and I’ll have them served to Matt on Friday.”

Only two days away. She hadn’t expected it to be so quick. “There’s no waiting period in terms of how long we’ve been separated?”

“There’s no statutory requirement in this state that requires you to be separated at all prior to filing for divorce. And since you have been apart for a few weeks, I’m going to assume you haven’t done the deed. And if you haven’t done the deed, then there’s no reason to believe you’ll be involving a child.”

Rachel couldn’t issue a denial, nor could she look at her friend.

“Rachel? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

She shrugged. “Matt and I did have a little post-separation sex, so I suppose it’s possible I could be pregnant, but not very likely.”

Savannah’s mouth momentarily dropped open. “When did this happen?”

She felt like an errant teenage girl who’d gotten caught parking with her boyfriend. “The night I asked him for the divorce.”

“And if you are pregnant, when do you plan to tell him?” When Rachel again failed to respond, Savannah added, “You would tell him, right?”

“I don’t know what I would do.” And she truly didn’t. “But I don’t see any reason to borrow trouble right now. There probably won’t be anything to tell.”

“I have something else I want to ask you.” Savannah tapped a pen on the desk in rapid succession before putting it down. “Do you remember that night we got together at Rudy’s, not long after I came back to town?”

How could she forget? That was the night she’d made the pregnancy announcement to her friends. “I remember it well.”

“You said something that’s been bugging me for almost a year. You said you decided to get pregnant, not we decided. I’ve wondered if you took matters into your own hands.”

That secret had been a burden she’d carried for months. One burden she’d like to ease among all the others. “I might have forgotten to take a pill or two.”

“Forgotten?”

“Okay, I intentionally forgot to take them. I thought that if I let nature take its course and I got pregnant, he’d get used to the idea. I even hoped he’d be happy about it.” And she had been so very, very wrong.

“But Matt still doesn’t know it wasn’t an accident?”

“What would be the point, Savannah? It’s done. I got pregnant and I lost my baby.” Logical or not, she’d worried that losing Caleb was some sort of karmic punishment for deceiving her baby’s father.

“But Matt knows you aren’t on the Pill this time,” Savannah said.

“Yes, he knows.” His reaction was still fresh on her mind. “And that’s part of the problem when it comes to our marriage. I want another baby, and he doesn’t. In fact, I’ll never know if he really wanted Caleb.”

“Of course he wanted him, Rachel. Matt’s a good man.”

A good man who had no desire to be a father. “None of that matters now. I have to focus on the future, with or without him.”

“And you’re prepared for a future without him?”

She might never be prepared for that, even if she was capable of making it on her own. “Let’s just take it one step at a time and file the papers. I’ll decide what I’m going to do after that.”

Yet her biggest concern involved Matt and his reaction when he learned what she had done. She would simply hope for the best—and expect the very worst.

* * *

“HEY, MATT, ARE YOU in here?”

The question echoed down the barn aisle at the same time he slid the needle into the mare’s neck. Startled more by the voice than the injection, she tossed her head and sidestepped to the left, nearly throwing Matt off balance. Only years of experience and well-honed skill saved him from going down and being trampled by a skittish horse. A pregnant skittish horse. Being put out of commission was the last thing he needed. Right now, his job happened to be the only thing keeping his mind off his problems.

He managed to calm the mare enough to withdraw the needle, keeping a firm grip on the halter with his free hand in case she decided to bolt again. Fortunately the hay bag gained her attention just as his friend showed up outside the stall.

“Got a minute?” Chase asked.

The question irritated Matt to no end. Then again, everything irritated him these days. He capped the needle, opened the stall door and set the syringe down on the supply cart until he could properly dispose of it. “A minute’s about all I have. I’ve got to get out to the Bailey farm and vaccinate some heifers.”

Chase peered into the stall at the mare. “Nice little bay. Who does she belong to?”

“Sam. She’s bred to his stud and due to foal in the next few weeks.”

“I thought Sam stopped breeding that old stud a few years ago.”

He really didn’t care to get into this right now. “This one’s going to be the last in the line, and Rachel’s birthday present. If my wife ever comes home. I’m not sure that’s going to happen.”

“You could be right about that.”

The comment threw Matt, considering his friend’s “fight for your wife” speech delivered only days ago. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Did you come all the way out here to chastise me about that little scene me and Rachel made at the pond?”

Chase suddenly became preoccupied with the ground. “Actually, I’m here on official business.”

That explained why his friend was dressed in his uniform, but it didn’t explain what that official business entailed. He’d bet the ranch that it involved his dad. “Let me guess. My father’s back in jail and you’re looking for someone to bail him out.”

“This isn’t about Ben.” Chase offered him a tan legal-size envelope. “Savannah asked me to give you this. Right now I’m supposed to say, ‘You’ve been served,’ but I’m going to make an exception and just say I’m sorry.”

Matt stared at the envelope a few seconds before taking it. Maybe some disgruntled animal owner had decided to sue him for no good reason, but he couldn’t think of one person in Placid who had ever threatened him with legal action. He could think of someone who had threatened him, but not over his practice. The possibility that this could be Rachel’s doing made him sweat.

He undid the clasp and opened the envelope to end the suspense, only to discover his worst fears had been confirmed. Divorce papers—signed by his wife.

The anger began to build, coming from a deep, dark place that made Matt want to put his fist through the stall door. Instead, he held the documents up and turned his fury on his friend. “Did you say Savannah had something to do with this?”

He hated the sympathy in Chase’s expression, in his tone when he said, “She decided to bypass the usual process server and let me do the honors. She was worried about how you might react, and she figured I could keep you calm.”

A fifth of whiskey couldn’t calm him, although he wouldn’t mind trying it. But first things first.

Matt took off down the aisle and headed straight out the barn door, not even bothering to stop when Chase called, “Don’t do anything stupid, Matt.”

Stupid would be to do nothing. Stupid would mean lying down and letting Rachel run over him. The least she could’ve done was to inform him before she dropped the divorce bomb. He deserved that much. But she had told him that night at the guesthouse that this was what she wanted. And like a fool, he’d chosen not to believe her. He’d also decided to give her some space for the past two weeks. Enough time to realize what they’d been missing since they’d been apart. Obviously she didn’t give a damn about the lovemaking. Well, all of it mattered to him, and he planned to tell her that immediately.

He jumped into the truck, tossed the papers onto the passenger seat and tore down the drive past Chase’s cruiser, spewing dust and gravel in his wake. When he reached the highway, he planned to turn left and head to the Wainwright estate to confront her. Instead, he took a right toward town when he realized she wouldn’t let him into the guesthouse, provided she even answered the door. Or she could have her daddy standing guard at the gate. A confrontation with his father-in-law would definitely send him over the edge. He decided having a sit-down with the architect of this whole mess might be a good place to start.

He made it onto Main Street in record time, whipping into the parking space in front of what once was the old five-and-dime store, which now served as Savannah Greer’s law office. After grabbing the papers, he left the truck and pushed through the wooden door, expecting to find a receptionist waiting to receive him. Instead, he discovered Savannah leaning against the reception desk, not looking at all surprised to see him. Apparently the deputy had called ahead and given her fair warning. Traitor.

Matt held up the papers now fisted in his hand. “Want to explain this?”

She glanced to her left where Ike Wilkins was kicked back in a chair in the corner, hands folded on his big belly. “Mr. Wilkins, I’ll be right with you. Matt, you come with me.”

“Not a problem, Savannah,” Ike said. “Looks like the doc’s got bigger fish to fry than me.”

Great. Now the whole town would know about the vet’s legal issues and start speculating. But they’d never guess in a million years that a divorce was in the works. A divorce he didn’t want and planned to fight.

He followed Savannah into a small corridor, where she showed him into a room containing a conference table lined with four chairs. As soon as she closed the door and faced him, he made her the target of his wrath. “How in the hell could you let Rachel do this?”

“First of all,” she began, “Rachel has a mind of her own. Secondly, I tried to discourage her from proceeding without discussing this further with you. And you and I both know that if you push too hard, she’ll only dig her heels in and push back even harder.”

How well he knew that. He began to pace with restlessness, helplessness, and paused to stare out the window onto the street. “This still isn’t fair, blindsiding me like this.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Matt. I wish there was something I could do to make this process easier on you.”

He turned back to Savannah. “There is something. Call Rachel and tell her to come here and tell me to my face why she’s so damned set on throwing away a thirteen-year marriage. She owes me that much.”

Savannah planted both palms on the table and leaned into them. “It’s probably a good idea you calm down before you talk to her. You should go home and give her a call tomorrow.”

He pulled back a chair, sat and folded his arms. “I’m calm enough. Since she probably won’t take my calls, and my father-in-law wouldn’t take too kindly to me camping on the doorstep, I’ll just wait here until you call and get her down here. You don’t even have to tell her I’m here.”

She looked away. “She knows you’re here, because she’s in my office.”

That just made him mad all over again. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“She asked me not to unless absolutely necessary.”

He released a cynical laugh. “Is she hanging around, expecting a show?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. She assumed you’d probably come here first and she’s worried you might react badly. She insisted on running interference if you gave me a hard time.”

He wanted to give only one person a hard time, and she was in the next room. “Let her know that I’m not leaving until she sees me.”

Savannah sighed. “I’ll ask if she’ll see you, but I can’t guarantee she will. And if she does decide to meet with you, you have to promise not to go ballistic. I’d hate to have to call Chase to haul you out of here.”

Since he could dig in his heels just like his wife, it would probably take Chase and half the sheriff’s department to remove him. “I’m not going to cause a scene. I only want a few minutes of her precious time.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be back, either with or without her.”

After Savannah left the room, Matt got up and paced some more. He didn’t have a clue what he would do other than demand an explanation. But he didn’t require one. He already knew what she would say, because she’d already said it. And as Savannah said, she wasn’t going to give in, especially if he pressed too hard.

And that gave him an idea. He sank into the chair again. She expected him to fight her on the issue, so it was high time to do the unexpected. He had no intention of letting her go, but he sure as hell could pretend to be going along with the divorce. Maybe that would shock her back to her senses. If not, he’d figure something out.

As the door opened, he did the gentlemanly thing and stood even though he didn’t particularly feel like being polite. Savannah walked in first, with his wife trailing behind her. Rachel wore a leopard-print silk top that hung off one shoulder and a pair of black pants that showcased her butt when she turned to close the door. Her dark hair had recently been cut into long black layers and she had on more makeup than he’d seen her wear in quite some time. The fact that she looked so damn good only made him more determined to put an end to this nonsense.

As Rachel took the chair across from him and centered her gaze on his, Matt sat back down and stared at her until she looked away.

Savannah cleared her throat. “Since Wilma’s out today, I have to have Ike sign some papers. I’ll be back in a few minutes, and while I’m gone, I expect both of you to play nice. Can you do that?”

Rachel finally brought her attention back to him. “I will if he will.”

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