“I’m not living under a rock, Katrina.”

“I never thought you were.”

He swung his leg over the wide seat of the ATV. He wasn’t insulted. He couldn’t care less what she thought of his simple habits.

Truth was, he didn’t know why she’d struck a nerve. Maybe it was because she pointed out the vast differences between them, and how far she was out of his league. Not that it mattered, he ruthlessly reminded himself.

No matter how sexy Miss Katrina Jacobs might appear, he was keeping his hands and his thoughts to himself. His life was complicated enough.

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the second book of the COLORADO CATTLE BARONS series from Desire. With a burly, tough cowboy and an elegant ballerina, shuttling from Colorado cattle country all the way to downtown Manhattan, this story explores the themes of “opposites attract” and “a fish out of water.”

In book two of the series, cattleman Reed Terrell experiences a financial windfall following the death of his abusive father. He’s reunited with his beautiful, refined former neighbor Katrina Jacobs, who’s battling underhanded elements in the New York City dance world. When Reed’s defensive instincts kick in, he finds himself falling in love.

I hope you enjoy A Cowboy in Manhattan, And I hope you’ll look for Katrina’s sister Abigail, along with some of the other residents of Lyndon Valley, Colorado, in future books featuring the Colorado Cattle Barons. I’d love to hear from you, so please feel free to drop me a line through my website, barbaradunlop.com.

Barbara Dunlop

About the Author

BARBARA DUNLOP writes romantic stories while curled up in a log cabin in Canada’s far north, where bears outnumber people and it snows six months of the year. Fortunately she has a brawny husband and two teenage children to haul firewood and clear the driveway while she sips cocoa and muses about her upcoming chapters. Barbara loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website, www.barbaradunlop.com.

A Cowboy
in Manhattan
Barbara Dunlop

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For my husband

One

As the pickup truck rocked to a halt in front of her family’s Colorado cattle-ranch house, Katrina Jacobs started a mental countdown for her return to New York City. In the driver’s seat, her brother Travis set the park brake and killed the engine. Katrina pulled up on the silver door handle, releasing the latch and watching the heavy passenger door yawn wide-open. Then she slid gingerly down onto the gravel driveway, catching most of her weight on her right foot to protect her injured left ankle.

A week, she calculated. Two weeks, max. By then she would have done her duty as a daughter and a sibling. Her ankle would be in shape. And she could get back to her ballet company in Manhattan.

Katrina hated Colorado.

Travis retrieved her small suitcase from the truck box. From experience, she knew it would be covered in stubborn grit, just like everything else in Lyndon Valley. She could vacuum it as much as she liked, but the dust would remain.

She wrenched the stiff door shut and started to pick her way across the uneven ground. She’d worn a pair of navy suede Gallean ankle boots, with narrow toes, low heels and kicky little copper chains at the ankles. They topped a pair of skinny black slacks and a shiny silver blouse.

She probably should have gone with sneakers, blue jeans and a cotton shirt, but she couldn’t bring herself to traverse both JFK and Denver International looking like a hick. She wasn’t often recognized in public, but when she was, people inevitably snapped a picture. Between cell phones and digital cameras, everyone in the world was potential paparazzi.

In his faded blue jeans, soft flannel shirt and scuffed cowboy boots, Travis fell into step beside her. “You want to take Mom and Dad’s room?”

“No,” she responded a little too quickly. “I’ll bunk with Mandy.”

Katrina hadn’t lived at home full-time since she was ten years old. That summer, with the support of her rather eccentric aunt, she’d enrolled in New York’s Upper Cavendar Dramatic Arts Academy, a performing-arts boarding school for girls. Maybe it was because she’d left home so young, but to this day, she was intimidated by her stern, forceful father. His booming voice made her stomach jump, and she was constantly on edge whenever he was around, worried that he’d ask an embarrassing question, mock her career or make note of the fact that she was an all-around inadequate ranch hand.

Her father was away from the ranch right now, having just moved to a rehab center in Houston with a leading-edge stroke recovery program. There he was impressing the staff with his rapid improvement from his recent stroke. Still, the last thing Katrina needed was to be surrounded by his possessions.

“He loves you,” said Travis, his voice gentle but his confusion evident. “We all love you.”

“And I love you back,” she returned breezily, as she took the stairs to the front porch, passing through the door into the cool, dim interior of her childhood home. It was large by ranch house standards, with a big, rather utilitarian entryway. It opened up into a large living room, with banks of bright windows overlooking the river, a redbrick fireplace and enough comfy furniture to hold the family of five children and often guests. The kitchen was spacious and modern, with a giant pantry and a big deck that led down to a rolling lawn. And upstairs, there were six bedrooms, though one had been converted into an office after Katrina had left for good.

She knew love was compulsory. But the truth was, she had nothing in common with the rest of her family. They saw her as some spoiled, fragile princess who couldn’t even ride a horse, never mind toss a hay bale or swing an ax straight.

For all that she was a principal dancer in a ballet company that regularly sold out New York City’s Emperor’s Theater, and that she’d made the cover of Dance America and the Paris Arts Review, in Colorado she’d never be anything but the girl who couldn’t make it as a ranch hand.

“Hey there, Kitty-Kat.”

Before she could respond to his greeting, her oldest brother, Seth, swooped her up in his strong arms.

“Hi, Seth.” Her hug was slightly less enthusiastic. She was embarrassed by the childhood nickname her two brothers had bestowed upon her.

He let her go, and she stepped aside with a determined smile on her face. The smile faltered when she caught sight of a third man behind him. A taller, broader man, with penetrating gray eyes, a grim mouth and what she knew would be callused hands that could probably lift a taxi cab right off the asphalt. Though it had been a few years since she’d seen him, there was no mistaking their neighbor Reed Terrell.

He gave her the slightest of nods. “Katrina.”

“Reed,” she nodded in return, a fuzzy hitch coursing through her chest. It was trepidation, she told herself, a visceral reaction based mostly on his size and strength and overall rugged appearance.

Just then her sister Mandy burst down the stairs. “Katrina!” she cried, elbowing Seth out of the way and pulling Katrina into her arms.

Katrina hugged her sister tight in return. The next youngest after Katrina, Mandy was the one who had always tried to understand Katrina’s passion for dance.

Mandy released her, scanning Katrina from head to toe. “You look gorgeous,”

Katrina knew it was a compliment. But when her family called her pretty, she couldn’t seem to help hearing useless. Pretty didn’t get you anywhere in Lyndon Valley.

“Thank you,” she told her sister, self-consciously smoothing back the wisps of blond hair that had escaped from the twisted knot at the back of her head. Maybe she should have gone with sneakers and blue jeans after all, or perhaps skipped her makeup this morning. She could feel her family sizing her up and finding her frivolous.

“You remember Reed?” Mandy gestured to the big man standing silently in the background.

“Certainly,” said Katrina.

Her gaze involuntarily met his again, and a shiver ran through her body, momentarily making her knees go weak. For a woman with a dancer’s balance, it was a ridiculous reaction. What was the matter with her?

She tried to drag her gaze from his, but for some reason, it stuck like glue.

“I can’t wait for you to meet Caleb again,” Mandy rattled on in an excited voice. “You probably don’t remember much about him, since he left Lyndon ten years ago.”

“I know he’s Reed’s twin brother,” said Katrina.

Reed’s nostrils seemed to flare when she uttered his name. The men were fraternal twins, not identical. She remembered Caleb as a smaller, less intimidating version of his brother.

Good thing.

For Mandy’s sake.

Katrina caught her sister’s expression, and saw that her eyes were sparkling with unadulterated joy.

“Congratulations,” she put in belatedly, giving Mandy another tight hug.

“We’re thinking of a late-fall wedding. You know, after Dad is up and around again. You’ll be a bridesmaid, of course.”

“Of course,” Katrina forced out a laugh. She wasn’t wild about family togetherness. But Mandy loved it, and Katrina wouldn’t do anything to mar her sister’s big day.

“You’ll look so beautiful in a bridesmaid dress.”

“It’s what I do best,” Katrina joked, keeping the smile pasted on her face. For some reason, she darted a look at Reed and saw his eye-roll.

He obviously thought she was being conceited. Fine. Easy for him to judge. She was willing to bet not a single person in his entire life had ever called him useless. Around here, he’d be revered for his strength and his hard work. He didn’t have to live with being pretty.

Not that he wasn’t attractive. In fact, there was an appealing dignity to his craggy features. His chin might be overly square, and his nose slightly crooked, but his eyes were an intriguing, silver-flecked gray, and his full lips were—

Wait a minute. She gave herself an abrupt mental shake. What on earth was the matter with her? Reed was a tough, hulking, strong-willed cowboy. He could out-macho anyone in Lyndon Valley, and there was nothing even remotely appealing about that.

Since Reed Terrell was alive, conscious and male all at the same time, he had the hots for Mandy’s sister Katrina. It didn’t mean he had to act on it, and it sure didn’t mean he’d succeed even if he tried. Everything about the woman said she was out of his league, from the wispy updo of her wheat-blond hair to her sexy boots, the clingy slacks and shimmering blouse in between.

When he’d met her earlier at the Jacobs ranch, her earrings had been dangling strands of gold, silver and diamonds, while a matching necklace glimmered against her dainty cleavage. She should have looked comically out of place on the ranch, but she didn’t. She looked like a princess inspecting the commoners, someone to be revered and admired, then left untouched. Which was exactly what Reed intended to do.

Now he entered the foyer of his own family’s ranch house, shutting the door against the gathering dusk, another long day of work behind him. For years, Reed had lived in the spacious, two-story house with his exacting father. Though his father was dead, out of habit, Reed placed his hat on the third hook from the left and straightened the mat beneath his feet. There was a place for everything, and everything was always in its place in the Terrell household. His father had prized practicality, but also quality, so the hardwood floors were clear maple, the furniture was custom-made and the kitchen appliances were top-of-the-line, replaced every ten years.

The outbuildings that housed the cowboys and staff necessary to run the big ranch were also kept in tip-top shape, from the cookhouse to the bunkhouses to the barns and sheds. The line shacks were all getting older, but they were still kept clean and in good repair.

“Danielle wants to talk to you,” his brother Caleb announced as he walked down the hallway from the kitchen at the back of the house, phone in hand.

“I don’t have anything more to add.”

Caleb frowned. “You can’t let fifteen million dollars just sit in a bank account.”

“You can always take it back,” Reed responded, squaring his shoulders. He still thought it was ridiculous that his brother had paid him for half the family’s ranch.

“Would you let me hand you half of Active Equipment for free?” Caleb referred to the company he’d spent the past ten years building in the Chicago area.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Same difference.” Caleb held out the phone. “Talk to her. She has some ideas.”

Danielle Marin was Caleb’s lawyer. Following the debacle of their late father’s will, she’d drafted the papers that switched ownership of the Terrell ranch from Caleb to Reed. Then she’d worked out the financial transaction where Caleb bought half of it back.

Reed wasn’t exactly grateful to her for helping to put him in his current financial position, but he had to admit, the woman seemed to know what she was doing.

He took the phone. “Hello?”

As usual, Danielle’s tone was crisp, no-nonsense. “Hi, Reed. I was wondering if you’d had a chance to look over the package I emailed to you yesterday?” Then her voice became muffled as she obviously spoke to someone at her end of the line in Chicago.

“Not yet,” he answered. He only opened his email about once a week. He didn’t have a lot of technically inclined friends. Most of the people he knew still called on a landline or simply stopped by the ranch when they had something to say.

She sighed into the receiver. “You’re losing both income and investment potential every day you wait.”

“You’ve pointed that out.”

“Can you give me some general parameters? Do you want to keep your investments in the country? Go international? Blue chips? Emerging markets?”

“I was thinking about buying a sports car,” he drawled, impatient with having to worry about the damn money. There were real problems requiring real solutions right here on the ranch.

Her voice instantly perked up. “So, you’re saying I should keep some ready cash for luxury purchases?”

“I was joking, Danielle. We don’t have paved roads in Lyndon Valley.”

“You could always drive it on the highway. What appeals to you? Lamborghini? Ferrari?”

“It was a joke,”

“Stop joking.”

It was Reed’s turn to sigh. “Fine. Keep the money in the country.” He at least knew he wanted that much.

“Right. So, maybe some blue chips? Or do you want to look at a percentage of a start-up? I can make some recommendations on sectors and states.”

Reed didn’t want to think about this right now. Quite frankly, all he wanted to do was to strip off his dusty clothes, take a hot shower, grill up a steak, and then picture Katrina’s deep blue eyes for a while before he drifted off to sleep.

“I’ll let you know,” he told Danielle.

“Soon?”

“Yeah. Sure. Soon. See you.” He handed the phone back to his brother.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” Caleb pointed out as he put the phone back to his ear. Then his expression faltered. “No, not you, Danielle.”

Reed chuckled at his brother’s embarrassment, feeling better already.

He crossed through the living room, took the staircase to the second floor, took off his clothes and tossed them into the hamper before stepping into a steaming shower. As he rubbed in the spice-scented shampoo, he realized his hair was getting too long. He supposed he could find a few more reasons to make the drive into Lyndon and get it cut while he was there, or he could buzz it short with his razor again. Though the last time he’d done that, Mandy had laughed at him for days.

Thoughts of Mandy took him to thoughts of Katrina. He switched the water to cold, finishing off with a brisk rinse before stepping out of the deep tub.

He changed into clean jeans and pulled a worn gray T-shirt over his head, running his fingers through his damp hair. He left his feet bare, padding down to the kitchen. The barbecue was out back on the deck, overlooking a bend in the Lyndon River. But it was a warm May day, and shoes were definitely not necessary.

He smelled steaks grilling and knew his brother had a head start on dinner. He’d learned that steaks were the only thing Caleb knew how to cook. Thinking about his brother’s ineptitude in the kitchen made something warm settle deep into Reed’s chest.

It had only been a few weeks since he’d reconciled with his fraternal twin brother. They’d been estranged and angry with each other since their mother had passed away ten years ago. They’d both blamed their cruel, domineering father for her death from untreated pneumonia. But their reactions had been poles apart. Caleb had left home in anger. Reed had stayed behind to protect his mother’s ranch heritage.

Reed heard a female voice through the screen door.

Mandy, obviously.

When Caleb had come home to settle problems with the will, the two had reconnected and fallen deeply in love. Reed smiled. He’d always thought of Mandy as a sister. It would be nice to have her officially become part of the family.

He grabbed himself a cold bottle of beer from the fridge, flipped the cap into the trash can and headed outside. There, he stopped short, seeing Katrina sitting at the table. Hearing his footsteps, she turned toward him.

A glass of red wine dangled between delicate fingers tipped with sculpted nails. And she was laughing at something Mandy had said. Her jewel-blue eyes were alight in the evening sunshine. The slanting rays glinted off her shimmering blouse where it clung to softly rounded breasts. As a professional dancer, her body had a perfect shape and symmetry that kickstarted his libido.

As she took in his expression, her smile faltered, and the glow left her blue eyes. “Hello, Reed.” She paused. “Something wrong?”

He realized he was scowling. She was Mandy’s sister. He shouldn’t be secretly fantasizing about her. She might not spend much time in Lyndon Valley, but he was going to have to make this work.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he insisted, striding forward. “I’m hungry.” He forced himself to focus on Caleb who was wielding a spatula over the grill.

“About ten minutes,” Caleb offered.

Since dishes, salads and bread were already set out on the rectangular table, Reed chose one of the low-slung wooden Adirondack chairs, parked his body and took a swig of his beer.

Mandy moved to the barbecue beside Caleb, placing her hand lightly on his shoulder, their backs to Reed and Katrina.

“Did you have a nice flight in?” Reed asked Katrina, keeping his tone polite and even.

“It was good.” She nodded, her tone even in return. “Very comfortable.” She swiveled to perch herself backward on the bench seat at the table, fully facing him.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Mandy playfully kiss his brother’s cheek and whisper something in his ear.

“First class?” he asked Katrina.

“Why?”

He caught the narrowing of her eyes. “No reason.”

“You think I’m a princess?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Truth was, he was thinking that nobody had a “very comfortable” flight in coach. He was also thinking that first-class seating was a waste on somebody as petite as her.

Their gazes clashed for several seconds.

“Staying long?” he tried, wondering if she’d turn that into an insult, as well.

But her expression faltered, and she didn’t answer for a moment. “A week. Maybe two.”

“Still dancing?” He didn’t know anything about her life in New York City, except that she was some kind of important ballerina, and Mandy was anxious to go see her perform.

“Still dancing,” she confirmed, with a quirk of a smile. “You’re still ranching?”

“Still ranching.” He nodded. “You must be here on vacation?”

“Yes,” she replied, the barest hint of sarcasm in her tone.

“What?” he probed.

“What?” she responded, concentrating on taking a sip of her wine.

“It’s not a vacation?” he guessed.

She glanced sideways at her sister for a split second. Then she shrugged. “No pool deck or palm trees. But I guess you could call it a vacation.”

“Princess,” he muttered through a smile.

“A girl’s got to keep up her tan.”

He gave a pointed glance to his deeply browned forearms. “Not a problem around these parts.”

“I bet you’ve got those farmer–tan lines at the short–sleeve mark.”

He couldn’t seem to stop his smirk. “I bet you’ve got those princess tan lines at the bikini mark.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Much more attractive.”

To that, he gave her a mock toast. “No argument from me.”

Then, to his surprise, she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Truth is, I twisted my ankle.”

He leaned forward to meet her, lowering his own voice to match. “Is that a secret?”

She shook her head. Then she shrugged her slim shoulders. “Not exactly, I just …” Her red lips pursed together, and he couldn’t help thinking about kissing her.

Her cheeks flushed a light rose.

Was she thinking about kissing him back?

As quickly as it formed, he banished the thought. It was a ridiculous assumption.

“Are you embarrassed about hurting yourself?” He settled on a much more likely explanation.

“It was a silly accident,” she confessed. “I’m usually really careful about my shoes, but—”

“Rare, medium or well?” Mandy called to them.

Reed didn’t take his gaze off Katrina. “Rare.”

“Medium,” she put in. “And nothing too big, please.”

Reed felt a smile grow. “You’re not up for a cowboy twelve-ouncer?”

Her hand moved to rest on her flat stomach. “My dance partner has to be able to lift me.”

“Maybe you need a stronger partner.”

“What I need is to lose two pounds.”

“You look perfect to me.” The soft words were out before he could censor them.

A slow blink camouflaged her reaction. Then she brought her teeth down on her bottom lip and determinedly turned her attention to Caleb, who was carrying the platter of steaks to the table.

Reed had said something wrong. He wasn’t sure what it was, but she’d abruptly shut him out.

Katrina didn’t know why she’d told Reed about her ankle last night. It was a foolish slip of her tongue. It compromised her ongoing efforts to keep her two worlds apart, and this morning she vowed to do better.

In the years since her father’s sister, her generous Aunt Coco, had taken her under her wing and convinced her parents to let her move to New York City with her, she’d been living two separate lives. In New York, enrolled in the ballet program at the Academy, she felt vibrant and alive. She was a part of the cultural mosaic Auntie Coco, a renowned contemporary painter, had been so careful to expose her to while she was growing up. She fitted in. She was normal, accepted, even respected. In Colorado, she was out of step. An anomaly who could never show weakness.

She often wondered why her aunt had decided to rescue her from the ranching world, what it was she’d recognized as a kindred spirit in a ten-year-old child. She’d always meant to ask. But Coco had died of a sudden aneurism two years ago before Katrina had had the chance.

Now, she came to the bottom of the stairs of the Jacobs’ house and took a bracing breath. Her two brothers and two sisters were already dressed for the day’s work, sitting at the breakfast table eating pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs. It never ceased to amaze her that Mandy and Abigail could consume so many calories and keep such trim figures.

As she pivoted around the end of the staircase, she was careful not to limp. Then again, Reed would probably tell Caleb, and Caleb would tell Mandy, and once again she’d be the pathetic, weak branch on the robust Jacobs family tree.

She approached the breakfast table to a chorus of good mornings, taking the empty place next to Mandy, searching the table for fruit, or maybe a whole-grain muffin. But a platter of fluffy pancakes was handed her way, followed by maple syrup and a mounded serving tray of eggs.

“Thanks.” She nodded to Abigail, setting the heavy platter down in an empty spot in front of her plate. “Is there maybe an apple or something in the fridge?”

Everything seemed to still for a moment as four sets of eyes turned her way.

“I’m not a huge breakfast eater,” she explained, ignoring the tantalizing scents of melting butter and warming syrup.

Abigail started to stand.

“No, no.” Katrina quickly waved her off, coming to her feet. Pain tripped in her ankle from the sudden movement, but she schooled her features. “I’ll get it.” She quickly headed for the kitchen.

“Abigail and I can stay on the ranch for a few more days,” Seth said, his conversational voice coming through the big, open pass-through between the kitchen and dining room. “But then they’ll need us in Lyndon to help with my campaign.”

Katrina spotted the family cook, Henrietta, in the pantry off the kitchen, restocking the shelves from a cardboard box. She smiled a greeting to the familiar woman as she pulled open one side of the big stainless-steel refrigerator.

In the pocket of her slacks, her cell phone vibrated. She retrieved it to see an unfamiliar New York City number.

“Hello?” she inquired, moving to a far corner of the kitchen, where a solid wall blocked the noise from her siblings’ conversation.

“Hello, Katrina.”

Her teeth clenched at the sound of Quentin Foster’s voice. A member of the Liberty Ballet Board of Directors, the last time they’d spoken, he’d been hitting on her.

“I wanted to see how you were feeling,” he continued, tone solicitous.

“Fine,” she told him evenly, wondering how she could diplomatically end the call. He was an important man in the organization, but his flirtatious manner had gotten entirely out of hand.

“We’re all very worried about you.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be back soon.”

“Back?” His tone slipped. “Have you left the city?”

“I’m visiting family. I really need to go. Thanks for calling.”

“Katrina, wait.”

She braced herself. “Yes?”

“Have you had another chance to think about what I said?”

About becoming his lover? “I haven’t changed my mind.”

In her peripheral vision, she caught her brother Seth’s curious gaze on her. “I do have to go. Thank you for your concern.” She quickly hit the off button then shut down her phone, turning her attention back to her family.

“Mandy’s riding up to take a look at the Blue Lake herd today,” said Travis. “And I’ll check to see how many have moved through the canyon.”

Katrina knew there was a science to herd distribution across their vast rangelands, taking in the seasons, weather reports and rainfall, but she had no idea how it worked. More than once, she’d privately mused that if she’d lived in the 1800s, she’d probably have died young of stupidity or been killed off by her outraged community because of her ineptitude.

“What time is the vet due in?” asked Abigail, refilling her coffee cup.

“He said around eleven,” Mandy offered. “But you know how those things go.”

“I have to touch base with the campaign office before I do anything else,” said Abigail, reminding Katrina of her oldest brother’s upcoming campaign for the mayor’s seat in Lyndon.

Katrina selected a smooth, deep-green Granny Smith apple from the crisper drawer, rinsing it under the tap before returning to the table.

“What about you?” Travis asked her as she sat back down.

“Me?” she responded, confused by his question. Were they still talking about the mayoralty campaign?

“You want to ride up to the lake with me today?” asked Mandy.

Katrina hesitated, glancing at the expressions around the table. She couldn’t believe they’d forgotten. She’d never mastered riding a horse. The animals still frightened her. The thought of sitting on top of one for six hours made her cringe.

“I have a pretty rigorous rehearsal and training routine,” she told everyone.

Seth waved a dismissive hand. “Take a day off.”

“I—”

“The fresh air will be good for you,” Travis declared.

Only Mandy was looking at her curiously.

“I wish I could,” Katrina lied with a shake of her head. “But I need to stay in shape.”

“Horseback-riding is good exercise,” said Travis.

“Is there a bicycle anywhere around here?” She tried to change the subject. Jogging would be the simplest exercise, since she didn’t have access to a gym. But the jarring would be too hard on her healing ankle, especially over uneven ground.

Her siblings glanced at each other.

“A bicycle?” Seth repeated the question.

“I like to bike,” said Katrina. “It’s good for my quads.”

Travis snorted. “A little productive work would be good for your quads too.”

“Travis,” Abigail warned.

“There might be an old bike in the blue shed,” said Mandy. “We can look after breakfast.” She glanced at the apple in Katrina’s hand. “You sure you don’t want something hot?”

Katrina shook her head. “I’m good.” She took a big bite of the apple, mumbling her appreciation of the tart flavor.

After a drawn-out moment, everyone’s attention went back to their own meals.

After a few minutes, Mandy rose to take her dishes into the kitchen then returned to the dining room and slid back into her chair. “We’ll go whenever you’re ready,” she said to Katrina.

“I’m ready now.” Katrina rose. She’d rather eat her apple on the run than sit here on edge, waiting for more uncomfortable questions and opinions.

She’d worn blue jeans and a simple white blouse this morning, and she popped her feet into a pair of sneakers.

Mandy stuck a battered Stetson onto her head. Her boot heels clunked on the wooden porch, while Katrina followed silently on rubber soles. She wished she’d thought to bring along a hat. She had a white baseball cap from the Met that she could easily have tucked into her suitcase.

It took about five minutes to walk the path to the blue shed, called that because of its blue door. There was also the green shed, the yellow shed and the view shed, which had a red door. Katrina had never figured out why her family wasn’t consistent with the names. But she’d stopped asking questions like that a long time ago.

Mandy pushed open the door and made her way into the crowded storage building. “You haven’t told me what you thought of Caleb.”

“He seems like a nice guy,” Katrina answered honestly as she followed inside. Caleb had been friendly, polite and funny last night.

Mandy turned to stare, her tone turning incredulous. “‘A nice guy’? That’s all you’ve got for my fiancé? He’s an amazing guy.”

“I only just met him again.”

Caleb was six years older than Katrina, and she barely remembered him from when she was a child.

“Well, sure. But it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

Katrina couldn’t help but grin at her sister’s mock outrage. “I’m sure he’s amazing. And it’s pretty obvious he’s got it bad for you.”

“Yes, he does,” Mandy answered with conviction, wrinkling her nose and sticking it primly in the air. She turned sideways to slip between a set of shelves and an ATV.

Katrina followed, tone playfully placating. “And who could blame him? You’re a great catch.”

Even in the dim light, Mandy’s eyes sparkled as she moved some plastic bins out of the way. “What about you?”

“I’m not a particularly good catch.” What could Katrina bring to a relationship? An extensive designer wardrobe? An ability to make small talk at cocktail parties? A demanding and precarious career?

“I meant are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh.”

Mandy moved a tarp as she made her way farther into the shed. “But of course you’re a great catch. You’re like some kind of dream trophy wife.”

Katrina didn’t want to be a trophy wife. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Really? What about all those debonair rich guys who go to the same parties as you?”

“None of them have asked me out.”

“They have so,” Mandy contradicted.

“Okay, some of them have. But nobody lately.” Unless you counted Quentin Foster. Katrina shuddered at the mere thought of the offensive man. He hadn’t asked her for a date. His had been a bald proposition, followed by an unsettling threat.

“New York men don’t know a good woman when they see one,” Mandy put in staunchly. “Aha. Here we go.”

Katrina banished thoughts of Quentin, coming up on her toes to peer over a wooden crate. Sure enough, there was a sturdy-looking mountain bike propped up against a workbench. She normally rode a stationary one at the gym a few blocks from her apartment, but she was willing to adapt.

“Will we be able to get it out of there?” she asked Mandy.

“Easy.” Mandy hoisted it in the air, over the clutter and outside. There she pumped up the flat tires at the compressor.

Katrina was more than a bit in awe of her older sister. “I can’t believe you did all that.”

“All what?”

“Pumped up the tires. You actually know how to run a compressor.”

“You actually know how to stand up in toe shoes. So, what’s the plan? How far do you want to ride?”

Katrina shrugged. “Fifteen, twenty miles.” Then she’d limber up, work on her arms a bit, and see how her ankle was holding up.

“I’m going up to Caleb’s later,” said Mandy.

“That’s nice.”

Mandy glanced at her watch. “If you wait until afternoon to leave and take the river trail, I can meet you at the Terrells’ and drive you home after dinner.”

Katrina hesitated. She wasn’t wild about spending more time with Reed. The man made her jumpy and self-conscious. But Mandy was the closest thing she had to a buffer against her other siblings. If Mandy wasn’t around, she feared her brothers would try to railroad her into something uncomfortable, like riding a horse.

“Sure,” she found herself saying. “I’ll meet you up at Terrells’.”

Two

Reed couldn’t seem to get his father’s voice out of his head. As he had when Wilton Terrell was alive, he got up every morning focused on an ambitious list of jobs around the ranch. Then he worked as hard as he could until the end of the day. And if something went wrong, if he made a mistake, did less than one hundred percent, he’d reflexively brace himself for Wilton’s anger.

Obviously he knew he’d never have to deal with his father’s anger again, but his emotions were taking a while to catch up. He couldn’t say he was sorry the obstinate old man had died, though he was beginning to recognize what a powerful impact Wilton had had on his life.

His brother Caleb told him it was crazy to keep up the breakneck pace. Caleb was searching for a full-time ranch manager to add to the foreman and ranch hands that helped with the day-to-day work. But Reed couldn’t switch gears that easily.

Now, he returned the cleaning supplies to the tack room, hung up his saddle and emptied the combs and brushes he’d used on his horse, replacing them in their respective drawers and closing the cabinet before shutting off the light and exiting the room.

The sun was hitting the horizon in an orange ball, decorated by pink clouds above the snowy peaks of the distant Rockies. He crossed the wide driveway turnaround, heading for the house. A truck pulled up, and he caught sight of the Jacobs’ ranch logo on the door. Before he could stop it, a hitch of excitement shot through him. But then he saw that only Mandy was inside the cab. No Katrina.

He lengthened his stride, coming up to the driver’s door and pulling it open for her. “Hey, Mandy.”

She smiled a greeting as she slid out of the cab, reaching back inside for a baking tin sitting in the center of the bench seat.

“Brownies,” she offered, waving it in front of his nose.

“Sounds great. Caleb’s probably inside.”

“With Katrina?”

Reed felt another small shot of adrenaline. “Katrina’s here?”

“I sure hope so. Mom left her a box of things to sort through in the attic, then she was coming up here.”

“I’ve been in the barn for a while.” He might have missed Katrina’s arrival. Then again, he didn’t see another Jacobs’ pickup anywhere, so perhaps Mandy was mistaken.

“Hmm.” Mandy’s gaze searched the yard.

“What?”

“She rode up here on a bike.”

“You mean a horse?”

Mandy gave an eye-roll as she started for the front door. “Yeah, because I usually mix those two things up.”

Reed automatically fell into step and lifted the tin from her hands. “Katrina rides a motorcycle?” He simply couldn’t picture it.

“A bicycle. She wanted to get some exercise.”

Okay. Weird, but okay. They mounted the stairs, and Reed pushed the door open, waiting for Mandy to go inside.

“I don’t see how they could possibly make it any more complicated,” Caleb was saying into the phone as he paced from the living room into the entry hall. He lifted his chin in a greeting to them both. “I don’t think Danielle wants to fly all the way down to Brazil.” He paused. “In person? Really?” He braced his hand against the end of the archway and gave a disgusted shake of his head.

Mandy moved down the hall to the kitchen, glanced inside, then came back.

“Katrina here?” she stage-whispered to Caleb.

He narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Is Katrina here?” she repeated.

He gave her a shrug of incomprehension. “Tell her to take the jet,” he said into the phone. “We’re going to have to give that woman a huge bonus.”

Mandy turned to Reed, her forehead wrinkling in worry. “She was going to ride up the river trail. She should have been here by now.”

“On it,” said Reed, moving immediately back to the door and heading outside.

Katrina was probably stuck somewhere along the trail. Or maybe she’d grown tired and was resting. There was a slim chance she gotten herself into real trouble. But the river trail was well-marked and relatively smooth and safe. The odds were definitely on the side of a delay rather than a catastrophe.

He strode back across the driveway, hopping onto an ATV that was parked next to the barn. He turned the key and the machine roared to life beneath him. He glanced at the sky, judging he had at least an hour before dark. It should be plenty of time, but he wasn’t going to waste any of it.

He drove about four miles down the trail before he spotted her. The bike was tipped at the edge of the trail, and Katrina was crouched over it, looking small and forlorn in the midst of an aspen grove. She stood as he approached, and her shoulders relaxed as she obviously recognized that it was him. He saw the chain was off the bike, and her small hands were black with oil.

He’d give her an A for effort, but a failing grade for actual accomplishment. He knew six-year-olds who could reattach a bicycle chain. He brought the ATV to a stop and killed the engine as he dismounted.

“Looks like you’ve got a problem,” he opened, struggling not to smile at her rather adorable helplessness.

She gestured to the bike. “I came around the corner, hit a bump, and the chain fell off.”

His smile broke through as he checked out her blackened hands. “Any luck putting it back on?”

“Are you mocking me?”

He moved on to inspect the broken-down bicycle. “I’m making small talk, Katrina. Quit being so sensitive.”

“I’m not being—”

“You’ve got a chip a mile wide on those skinny little shoulders.”

“I’m not an auto mechanic,” she harrumphed.

“And I’m not a ballerina.”

She didn’t seem to have a response to that.

“There’s no point in getting my hands dirty fixing it here,” he noted, lifting the bike by the frame and carrying it to the ATV. “Unless you’re set on riding it the rest of the way.”

“In the dark?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He balanced the bike on the wide front rack, uncoiling a bungee cord to fasten it down. “But it’s up to you.”

“No,” she responded tartly. “I don’t want to ride a bike the rest of the way.”

“You okay?” he asked belatedly, wrapping the cord around the bike frame and hooking the end to the rack. She didn’t appear hurt, but he supposed that should have been the first question out of his mouth. That was a miss.

“I’m fine,” she huffed.

He glanced up, taking a more detailed look at her. “You didn’t fall or anything?”

She shook her head. “The chain came off.” She held up her hands. “I stopped and I tried to put it back on.”

“I can see that.”

“I didn’t just sit down and wait for a knight in shining armor.”

“That’s a relief. Because you got me instead.”

She blinked sheepishly, seeming to remember her own manners. “Thank you,” she offered.

He couldn’t help but grin at her discomfort. “That wasn’t what I was fishing for. But you’re welcome.” The sight of her looking so vulnerable in the vastness of the landscape tightened his chest. “Anytime.”

“I guess these things come in threes.”

“Threes?” He glanced around, wondering if he’d missed something.

“I had that ballet shoe come apart on me,” she offered ruefully, glancing at her ankle. “And I almost took a tumble over some cables near the stage because they were partially hidden by a curtain.”

He sure didn’t like that mental picture. But he kept his tone easy. “You do seem to be accident-prone.”

“Ironic.” She sighed. “Because this time I was purposely attempting to stay out of trouble.”

“Admirable,” he acknowledged.

“Mandy wanted me to go horseback riding,” she continued. “And my brothers wouldn’t let me say no, and I knew I’d just slow the whole process down. And I thought …” She gestured to the disabled bike. “Bike-riding is one of my favorite exercises.”

Surely she didn’t ride a bike in the bumper-to-bumper traffic of New York City. “Through Central Park?” he hoped.

“In my gym,” she admitted. “A stationary bike.”

He wanted to tease her about that. But the truth was, he was glad to hear it. Better to be inside a building than fighting for road space with delivery vans, buses and taxis.

“I can set this one up as a stationary for you,” he found himself offering. “In the barn. On a stand. It wouldn’t be high-tech, but I can add a little resistance, and you’ll stay safe and sound.” Even as the words poured out of this mouth, he asked himself what the hell he thought he was doing? He had a million more pressing jobs that needed his attention.

She moved toward the ATV. “Wouldn’t my brothers have a laugh at that.”

He watched her grow close, transfixed by her beautiful face, the depths of her eyes, the motion of her deep pink mouth.

“We can keep it our secret,” he offered.

She hesitated, watching him closely. “I’d jog, but I can’t because of my ankle. And I have to do something.” She drew a deep sigh. “I spent all day yesterday sitting on airplanes. I was going to warm up on this ride, and then get in some stretching. But now, my muscles are cold.”

“You’re cold?”

“Too cold to stretch.”

He quickly unbuttoned his shirt.

“What are you—”

He stepped in and draped it over her shoulders. “Put it on,” he said gruffly. It was going to get even colder once they got up to speed on the trail and the wind hit them.

“I don’t need—” Her gaze caught and held on his bare chest. She blinked twice, then looked away, wordlessly slipping her arms into the sleeves. They hung about six inches past her fingertips, so she rolled them up to a thick band around her forearms.

She fastened the shirt buttons, and her cute black tights and pink T-shirt disappeared beneath the voluminous cotton.

She glanced down at herself. “Lovely.”

He cocked his head to one side. “I think it’s the spring tent collection from Dior.”

“You know Dior?”

“How do you mean?”

“It’s a fashion-design house.”

“No kidding,” he drawled.

“It’s just—”

“We do have satellite television out here.”

“And you use it to watch fashion shows?”

“Hardly,” he scoffed. “But they make the occasional pop-culture reference during professional bull-riding.”

“Did I insult you?” she asked, looking genuinely regretful.

“I’m not living under a rock, Katrina.”

“I never thought you were.”

He swung his leg over the wide seat of the ATV. He wasn’t insulted. He couldn’t care less what she thought of his television-watching habits.

Truth was, he didn’t know why she’d struck a nerve. Maybe it was because she pointed out the vast differences between them, and how far she was out of his league. Not that it mattered, he ruthlessly reminded himself. No matter how sexy Miss Katrina Jacobs might appear, he was keeping his hands and his thoughts to himself. His life was complicated enough.

“Hop on,” he told her gruffly, sliding forward to give her room on the seat behind.

She approached the ATV with caution, obviously sizing it up.

“You need some help?”

“No,” she flashed.

“Hand on my shoulder,” he instructed.

After a long hesitation, she touched him tentatively.

“Other hand.”

“Sorry.”

“Left foot on that peg.”

“Okay.”

He captured her forearm to steady her. “Step up and swing your leg over the seat. Grab my other shoulder if you need to.”

She did. Her slight weight rocked the ATV, and her butt came down on the seat, her breasts brushing his back and her thighs coming up against his.

She sucked in a breath.

“You’re going to have to hang on to me,” he warned.

“I know.”

He turned the key, and the ATV rumbled to life.

“Katrina?” he intoned, waiting for her to follow his instructions.

“My hands are filthy.”

“I can take it.” He reached back and grasped each of her wrists, wrapping her slim arms around his waist and anchoring her hands to his bare stomach.

Her breasts pressed tighter against his back, her cheek rested between his shoulder blades, while her inner thighs cradled his hips. Raw, painful desire rocketed through him, and he wondered how long he could reasonably take to drive back to the house. He wanted her to stay wrapped around his body for hours and hours.

In the shower on the second floor of the Terrells’ house, Katrina’s skin still tingled where she’d been pressed up against Reed’s body—which was pretty much everywhere, from the inside of her knees to the hairline above her temple. The ATV had rumbled between her legs, while the heat from Reed’s bare back had seeped its way through his shirt, her T-shirt and right through her bra.

Mandy had brought along a change of clothes for Katrina. In fact, she’d brought along Katrina’s entire suitcase. She’d drawn Katrina aside and confessed she was plotting to have them spend the night at the Terrells’, so she could be with Caleb. Katrina had easily agreed to stay. Away from her family’s ranch was good for her state of mind. And it was less emotionally draining to be here with Mandy than interacting with all of her siblings. Caleb had been warmly receptive to the plan. Reed was best described as neutral.

Now, Katrina pulled back the blue-and-green-striped shower curtain and carefully climbed out of the deep tub. The bathroom was neat but compact, with little counter room around the sink and only a couple of spots for hanging clothes and towels on the back of the door. While she dried off and wrapped a white towel around her wet hair, she realized the error in her planning.

Her sweaty clothes were in a heap on top of the hamper, while her fresh clothes were still folded in her suitcase in the guest room. She was going to have to cross the hallway wrapped in nothing but a towel. There wasn’t even a robe she could borrow hanging anywhere in the bathroom.

Resigned, she wrapped the biggest towel firmly around her body, tucking in the ends between her breasts. She rubbed a spot in the steamed mirror, turning and coming up on her toes to make sure the towel covered the necessities, just in case she met someone on the way. Then she gathered her wrinkled exercise outfit and her underwear, rolling them into a neat ball before cracking the bathroom door to make sure the hallway was all clear.

She listened carefully but couldn’t hear a sound. The guestroom door was about ten feet down the hallway in the opposite direction of the stairs. It was open, and it would only take her about five seconds to make it there.

She took a breath, opened the bathroom door wide, listened one last time, then scampered across the hardwood floor, scooting safely into the guest room, quickly closing the door behind her. She closed her eyes with a heartfelt sigh, and leaned solidly up against the door.

“Katrina?” Reed’s voice made her eyes fly open.

She gave a little shriek. The towel slipped, revealing her breasts for a brief moment until she grasped the corners, struggling to form a coherent word. “Wha—”

“Sorry.” He quickly averted his gaze. “Mandy asked me to bring you some fresh sheets.”

“I …” She could feel her face flush hot. The rest of her body flushed, too. Desire zipped from one extremity to the other, settling in a slow burn at the base of her abdomen.

She swallowed. She had to say something. But she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what that might be.

Reed moved toward her, keeping his gaze studiously on the floor in front of him. “I’ll get out of your way.”

She told herself to move, unblock the door so the man could leave already. But her feet were glued to the floor, her heart pumping deep and slow inside her chest.

He came closer and closer, and all she could do was stare.

A knock on the door behind her nearly made her jump out of her skin.

“Katrina?” Mandy called. “You in there?”

The absurdity of the situation suddenly hit her. And Katrina recovered her sense of humor. What was she expecting Reed to do here? Make a move with Mandy and Caleb downstairs? Ridiculous. She quickly found her voice.

“I’m naked in here,” she called out to Mandy. “And Reed’s remaking the bed.”

There was a stunned silence on the other side of the door.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Reed intoned. “Get out of the way.”

Mandy stammered from outside. “I’m … Uh …”

Reed snagged Katrina’s bare shoulder, moving her off to one side. His warm, callused palm left a distinct tingle in its wake. He quickly swung the door open.

“Mix-up,” he told Mandy. “Your sister thinks she’s funny.”

“He was lying in wait for me,” Katrina countered, still feeling breathless.

“I thought you’d take longer in the shower,” Reed protested.

“Why? Because I’m from New York City?”

“Because you’re a girl.”

“I’m a woman.”

Mandy’s attention was flying back and forth between the two.

Reed’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath. “And now you have fresh sheets.”

“Thank you,” Katrina returned breezily.

She was scrambling to tamp down her powerful sexual reaction to him. It was strange and more than a little unsettling to have her hormones run amok like this.

Maybe it was brought on by the stress of the afternoon. He had rescued her, after all. He’d lent her his shirt and brought her back here to where she was safe and warm. Had his white-knight behavior tripped some anthropological hormonal switch, making him seem like mate material? She sure hoped it was temporary.

“Caleb’s pouring the wine,” Mandy offered, watching her closely.

“Then I’ll get dressed,” said Katrina, pasting on an unconcerned smile.

These things were obviously mind over matter, and she was a very disciplined person. Reed was just a man. And a stubborn cowboy at that. She preferred her men more urbane and refined, a guy who could pull off a tux and discuss literature, fine cuisine and world events.

Mandy stepped backward into the hall, obviously intending to wait there until Reed joined her.

“It was an accident,” Reed told Mandy with firm conviction.

“I know.” She nodded. “Could have happened to anyone.”

Reed set his jaw in annoyance and moved through the doorway.

Once in the hall, he turned back to glare his annoyance at Katrina.

“You’re not funny,” he admonished. But a split second later, his frank, heated gaze slid from her towel-covered hair to her bare feet and back again.

Her toes curled into the soft carpet, and her stomach rolled anxiously. Hoo boy.

Katrina woke up in the Terrells’ guest room in the early, dark hours of the morning and couldn’t seem to get back to sleep. Bothered by the time-zone change, her nagging ankle, and the fact that Reed was sleeping on the other side of the thin bedroom wall, her brain couldn’t seem to relax.

Since Mandy had brought all of Katrina’s sister’s clothes to the Terrells’ house, she had options. She changed into a simple black-and-white leotard, then searched her way through the house for a suitable space to exercise. She found a big rec room in the basement that was perfect. It had a smooth Berber carpet, a big open space in the middle and a ledge that ran the length of the room at a height where she could brace her hand for balance.

She plugged in her earbuds, turned on her player and made her way through a low-impact aerobic workout, getting the blood flowing and warming up her muscles. Then she ran through a familiar stretching routine, easing down into the splits, bending sideways first, then forward at the waist, stretching out her arms.

After a few minutes, she paused, sensing someone watching.

She turned toward the door to find Reed leaning laconically against the doorjamb.

“I saw the lights.” He straightened and ambled into the room, dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, hair tousled, muscles bulging everywhere.

She pulled her legs beneath her and rolled to her feet. “I couldn’t sleep. Time-zone change.”

“Yeah, me, too. Not the time-zone thing. But I couldn’t sleep.” He pointed above his head. “I’m cooking sausage and eggs. You hungry?”

She shook her head. “I’m not much of a breakfast eater.”

Reluctant to stop while her muscles were warmed up, she crossed to the edge of the room, bracing her hand on the ledge. Facing Reed, she raised one leg behind her, gently gripped her toes and stretched out her quad.

“You don’t seem to be much of an eater at all,” he observed.

“Weight’s an issue in my profession.” Not only was a sleek form vital to her look on stage, but she had her partners to think about.

“How much do you weigh?”

She shot him a look of disbelief. “Do you really expect me to answer that?”

He shrugged and moved farther into the room. “Why not? I must weigh two, three times what you do.”

“Reed, you don’t ask a lady her weight.”

“Say that again.”

“You don’t ask a lady her weight?”

“No, the Reed part.”

She gave him a frown. What was that? Was he flirting? Why would he flirt?

He stared back in silence for a long moment. Then he said, “I made you something.”

Though the words took her by surprise, she rolled with it, telling herself it was better to move on. If Reed started flirting with her, she’d have to decide how to react. She knew how she was supposed to react, but it was completely different from the way she wanted to react.

She pulled her feet together and bent forward, putting her hands flat on the floor. “What did you make me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You want me to guess?” She stood again and raised her leg to the ledge, stretching her body along its length.

“No, I …” He paused. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Go all pretzel-like.”

“Practice.” She’d started when she was ten years old, when everything about her body had been extraordinarily flexible. “Is it something to eat?” she asked him. “If it is, you should know I like fruit and whole grains.”

“Is that why you skipped the brownies last night?”

“I noticed you ate mine.”

“Always happy to help a lady in distress.”

She couldn’t help laughing at that. “Ever the gentleman.”

“Yes, I am.”

She straightened. “Okay, I’ll admit, you’ve got me curious.”

His eyes warmed. “You want to come and see?”

“Depends. Where are we going?”

“The barn.” His gaze scanned her body. “You’ll have to put on something warmer than that. And remember, the hands are working out there.”

She glanced down at her simple leotard set. “You know I go up on stage in less than this.”

“Not in Colorado, you don’t.”

“Fine.” She started for the door, passing by him and calling over her shoulder. “You got any more of those cotton shirts? That’ll cover up everything that counts.”

“What’s mine is yours.” He started in behind her. “In fact, I’ve got a nice set of pajamas you might like. Red-and-gray plaid, very boxy. You take the tops.”

And he’d take the bottoms.

Oh, he was definitely flirting. She stopped abruptly in the doorway and he almost barreled into her.

He raised a hand and braced himself on the doorjamb. “What?”

She turned. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Talk about sharing pajamas.”

His lips curled up in the barest of smirks. “Is that what you thought I meant?”

“You know you did.”

There was a silent pause.

“Okay,” he admitted.

He stared down at her, and a pulse pounded in her temple, while heat coiled in the center of her body.

He leaned almost imperceptibly in, and his voice went husky. “You should get dressed.”

“I know.”

He blinked. “Now,” he muttered.

He was absolutely right. They’d taken this as far as they dared. She quickly turned and mounted the staircase.

She felt him behind her as far as the main floor. Then, she noted thankfully, he broke off to return to the kitchen.

Back in the guest room, she forced the sexy exchange from her mind, firmly telling herself to get it under control. She changed to some casual clothes and went back downstairs.

Together, they crossed to the main barn, traversing its length to a quiet corner behind a half wall. There she stared in astonishment at the contraption he’d made out of the bicycle.

“How did you do this?” she asked him. “When did you do this?”

The mountain bike was propped up on a rack, with the front wheel removed and rollers pressing against the back wheel. The rollers were attached to a long bolt with a butterfly screw that could be used to change the tension.

“This morning,” he answered. “I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”

“I didn’t think you were serious.”

“About not sleeping?”

“About—” She gestured. “About disabling my bike.”

“It’s what you wanted.”

“It’s not what I wanted. It’s what you offered.” She didn’t know why she was annoyed. Maybe because he hadn’t given her a choice. Maybe she was touchy today when it came to men telling her what to do. Or maybe anger was just the easiest emotion for her to deal with right now when it came to Reed.

“It’s too dangerous for you to be cycling around the ranch,” he informed her.

“In your opinion.”

“In everybody’s opinion.”

“So you decided to stop me?”

He nodded sharply. “I did.”

“Don’t you think that might be a little high-handed?”

“What? Keeping you safe?”

“I’m a grown woman, Reed.”

“And?”

“And it’s not up to you to decide how to keep me safe.”

He gave a grunt of disbelief. “I’m the one who has to come rescue you.”

“Nobody asked you to rescue me.”

“Mandy did.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“So, I should have left you there?”

“You should have asked me before disabling my bicycle.”

She wasn’t sure why she was drawing this out. Truth was, it was going to be a whole lot easier to bike in here where it was smoother on her ankle and she didn’t have to watch for obstacles and worry about breakdowns.

“Do you want me to take it apart?”

She caught a glimpse of hurt in his tightening expression and instantly regretted her reaction. “No. No, I don’t.”

“Good enough, then.” His tone was sharp. He turned on his heel, leaving Katrina alone.

Three

No good deed ever went unpunished. Reed banged a frying pan against the stovetop, wondering if he was just too stupid to remember that fact.

He was up to here with being criticized and having his efforts go unappreciated. It was one of his father’s favorite head games, pretending to want one thing, then changing the rules at the last minute and acting as though Reed had misunderstood the instructions.

He turned the sausages in the big skillet and cracked a couple of more eggs into a glass bowl.

“Smells good,” came Caleb’s voice as he entered the room, making a show of sniffing the air. “I can’t believe you’re such a good cook.”

“I can’t believe you’re such a hopeless cook,” Reed returned.

His brother had spent the past ten years building up his business, Active Equipment, while living in downtown Chicago. If it weren’t for restaurants and take-out food Caleb would have starved to death years ago.

“I thought you’d be out working by now.” Caleb crossed to the coffeemaker, snagged a cup from the lowest shelf and poured himself some coffee.

“Guess I’m just lazy.”

“Whoa,” Caleb drew back at the tone of Reed’s voice. “What’s up?”

“Nothin’.” Reed took a fork and beat the dozen eggs into a scramble, adding onions, peppers and a dollop of milk.

Caleb settled back against the countertop. “It’s just you and me here, bro. He’s gone.”

Reed drew a breath and forced his features to neutral. “I know he’s gone. Corby says the parts are in for the irrigation system on the oat field. Thought I’d start up there.”

“Get one of the hands to do it.”

“No need.” Reed wasn’t about to become an armchair rancher. The irrigation system needed fixing, and he knew how to fix it.

Caleb took a long sip of the black coffee. “Did you get a chance to look at the ranch manager résumés?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you ever going to look at the ranch manager résumés?”

“Said I would.” Reed dumped the egg mixture into a sizzling pan. Caleb was the one who wanted to hire a full-time manager. Reed didn’t have a problem running the ranch himself.

“Who put the burr under your butt this morning?”

“Morning, Caleb,” came Katrina’s voice. Her soft footsteps sounded in the pass-through as she entered the kitchen from the living room.

Reed reached for a spatula, stirring the eggs without turning around. He could feel his brother’s gaze linger on him a moment longer.

“Morning, Katrina,” Caleb offered cheerfully. “Sleep well?”

“I did. Thank you.” Her voice was sweet, melodious, without a trace of upset. Obviously, she’d moved on. Well, he would, too.

He turned to face her. “Eggs?”

Puzzlement flicked through her blue eyes. “No, thank you.”

He knew he’d asked her that once already this morning. But what did she expect? That he’d own up to having spent the past hour with her? That he’d give Caleb the details of their argument?

Offering her some eggs was a perfectly ordinary thing to do in this circumstance.

“Fruit?” he continued, not quite masking the edge to his tone.

“Love some,” she responded, lips compressing ever so slightly.

“There are oranges on the table, grapes and plums in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Caleb moved into action. “Let me—”

“I’m sure she’s capable of opening a refrigerator door,” Reed told his brother.

“What is your problem?” Caleb demanded.

“It’s fine,” Katrina cut in, heading for the fridge. “He’s worried that I’m nothing but decorative.”

“She’s our guest,” Caleb exclaimed.

“Who’s a guest?” asked Mandy, breezing into the kitchen. “Me?” She beelined for Caleb, planting a kiss on his cheek. Her hair was damp, her face free of makeup, and she wore a cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up to midforearm, a faded pair of jeans and no-nonsense boots. She was the kind of woman to whom Reed ought to be attracted.

“Me,” corrected Katrina, from behind the open fridge door. By contrast, she now wore a clingy pair of hunter-green slacks with rhinestones decorating the pockets and the hems. Her butter-yellow tank top was cropped, showing off smooth arms, a strip of skin above her waistband, her navel winking sexily every time she moved. Her earrings sparkled with tiny green stones while a silver medallion dangled above the scooped neckline of her top.

She was on a cattle ranch for goodness’ sake, not at a nightclub.

“Okay …” Mandy drawled, obviously waiting to be brought up to speed on the discussion.

Katrina straightened, a deep purple plum in her hand. “I was about to offer to do the dishes.” She pasted Reed with a challenging expression, then took a slurping bite of the plum.

He nearly dropped the spatula.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mandy quickly put in.

It took Reed’s lungs a moment to start functioning again. “If you gals need to head home right away …”

Caleb’s arm snaked out around Mandy. “I’m not letting this one go yet.”

“I have work to do at home,” Mandy admonished.

“Hire another hand. I’ll pay for it. You’re my fiancée, and I have dibs.”

Katrina’s gaze rested on Reed, making him feel guilty for his snarky attitude. But he’d done her a favor this morning, and she’d treated him like something nasty on the bottom of her shoe. She might get away with that back in New York City, but it wasn’t cutting it out here.

“Exactly how long do you expect me to stay?” Mandy teased Caleb.

His voice went deep, communicating more emotion than a single word. “Forever.”

Realizing he’d nearly burned the eggs, Reed twisted the burner control to the off position and moved them to one side.

“Cute.” Mandy patted Caleb’s cheek, seeming completely unaffected by his staunch declaration.

“Well, I should get back,” said Katrina.

“Oh, no.” Mandy walked forward toward Katrina before coming up against the tether of Caleb’s hand in hers. “Stay.”

Katrina turned to her sister. “Why would I stay?”

Stay and ride your bicycle, Reed found himself fuming. The least she could do was give it a try.

“You might as well be here as down there,” said Mandy. “We haven’t had a chance to talk.” She tugged playfully at Caleb’s hand, while he held her fast. “And I don’t think this one’s going to let me leave.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Reed saw Katrina glance his way.

“Reed’s not going to care,” said Mandy.

“I don’t want to get in the way.”

Reed turned to face her full-on. “This isn’t a country club.”

Her head jerked back, eyes going wide, as if he’d wounded her, and he immediately felt like a heel.

“Reed!” Caleb admonished. “What the hell?”

“It’s okay,” said Katrina, setting down the half-eaten plum. “Obviously, I should—”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Mandy shot Reed an annoyed glare. “He’s in a bad mood, that’s all. Terrell men get that way.”

“Excuse me?” Caleb was obviously affronted at being lumped in unfavorably with his brother.

Katrina seemed to be at a loss. She suddenly struck Reed as a fragile, frightened bird. And he had to struggle against an overpowering urge to reach out and reassure her. He wanted to draw her into his arms and apologize for anything he’d ever done, thought of doing or might do in the future to hurt her.

But the rational side of him knew that would be ridiculous. She’d trounced all over his best intentions this morning, and now she was using those big, gorgeous blue eyes to bring the world onto her side.

Well, he wasn’t falling for it.

“You’re more than welcome to stay,” Caleb told her staunchly.

Katrina looked to Reed, and he felt his defenses melting like spring snow. He fought against it, but stubborn as he was, she won the battle without lifting a finger.

“You’re welcome to stay,” he echoed his brother’s invitation.

Then he determinedly turned his attention back to breakfast. The sausages were overdone, as were the eggs. He’d forgotten to push down the toast, and he couldn’t seem to remember what the hell he’d done with the strawberry jam.

Katrina felt as though she was ten years old again, trailing along behind Mandy through the Terrell barn, feeling out of place, her nose wrinkling at the smell, making sure she steered clear of anything with hooves and teeth.

“There’s a gorgeous meadow up by Flash Lake,” Mandy was saying. She stopped beside a stall to scratch the nose of a chestnut mare. “It’s really not that far to ride. The fireweed’s up, and the lilies and columbine. You should see something more than the ranch yard while you’re here.”

“You don’t remember, do you?” Katrina asked.

“Remember what?”

“That I don’t know how to ride.”

Mandy turned. “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Of course you know how to ride.”

Katrina shook her head, then tucked her loose hair behind her ears. “You guys used to put me up on a horse a lot. But I could barely hold on. I sure couldn’t control it.” If her horses hadn’t willingly followed her sisters’ and brothers’ animals back home, she’d have been permanently lost in the wilderness.

“I can teach you,” Mandy broke in.

Katrina laughed at that, deciding it was time to come clean. It had to be better than riding. “I’m afraid of horses, Mandy.”

Her sister’s forehead wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”

“They scare me half to death.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re big. They’re strong. They’re unpredictable, and one of them bit me once.”

Mandy shook her head. “You can’t put up with that. You have to show them who’s boss.”

“Does that sound like me?”

Mandy crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against a stall fence and lifting one heel to brace it on the bottom rail, while the mare nudged at her ear. “I guess not,” Mandy allowed, firmly pushing the horse’s head away.

Katrina gave a self-deprecating grimace. “I can’t even boss around five-foot-two male ballet dancers.”

Mandy laughed at that. “I really could teach you.”

“To boss my ballet partners around?”

“To ride horses.”

Katrina took an involuntary step backward. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s easy.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t want to learn how.”

“But—”

“I’m only going to be here for a week, and there aren’t a lot of horses in New York City.”

Mandy’s eyes narrowed. “But you’ll come back, though, especially once Dad’s home.”

Katrina felt a familiar knot form in her stomach. Maybe it was because she’d left home so young and she didn’t really know her father. Or maybe it was because she’d always sensed his disappointment in her. But the thought of being in the same room, of coming under his scrutiny, of dealing with the walking-on-eggshells feeling she got whenever he looked her way, made her want to turn and run.

“Katrina?” Mandy prompted.

“My schedule’s pretty busy.”

“But you do get time off.”

“I do. But there are rehearsals. I’m doing a little teaching now.” Katrina turned and started walking, not wanting to face her sister while she stretched the truth.

Mandy followed her lead. “You really do hate it here, don’t you?”

“It’s …” Katrina struggled for the right words. “Intimidating.”

“I don’t see why.” Mandy urged Katrina down a side aisle.

“Of course you don’t. You’re like Ms. Super-Rancher.”

Mandy laughed while she pushed open a door, and the sunlight flooded through. “You make a bigger deal about everything than it has to be. You always have.”

“I do not.” Katrina stopped short, unease shooting through her.

They’d walked outside into a large, green field, fences in the far distance. It was dotted with horses, in ones and twos, heads down, grazing.

“I won’t let them get you,” Mandy assured her.

“I’m not in the mood for an intervention.” At her mother’s insistence, Katrina was here to touch base with her family. But she wasn’t here to conquer her fears and become a better human being.

“We’re just walking. It’s nicer out here than it is in the barn.”

“In the barn, they’re all behind fences.”

“If they attack, I’ll throw myself in front of you.”

“Funny.” Mandy might be taller and heavier than Katrina, but it was still a hundred-odd pounds against two-thousand. If a horse went rogue, Mandy wouldn’t be able to save her.

Mandy turned so they were headed along the fence line, and Katrina felt a little better. At least there was a handy escape route if they needed one.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Reed?”

Katrina stumbled on a clump of grass. “Huh?”

“Everything was fine last night.”

“Everything was fine this morning, too.”

Mandy crammed her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “I know Reed very well. We were like brother and sister for the ten years Caleb was away. He’s mad at you, and I’d like to know why.”

Katrina shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him.”

“He won’t answer.”

“Then I guess we’ll never know.”

Mandy shook her head. “What makes you think you can start lying to me now?”

“Practice.”

“Katrina. Seriously. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you.”

Katrina counted to ten inside her head. She knew she should say something innocuous and noncommittal, brushing off the comment and moving on. But some obstinate corner of her brain compelled her to speak up. “Maybe it’s because you don’t.”

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