Why hadn’t he kept driving when he’d had the chance?

“I’ll go put in our lunch order. You can stay here and help Rori,” his father said.

“No, Dad.” If it were anyone else—anyone—he’d have done it before his father could volunteer him.

“Justin, you might as well go with your father.” Rori spoke up, clearly not comfortable being left alone with the likes of him. “I can do it myself.”

“That’s not the way we do things, little lady. Justin, you can catch up with me at Clem’s.” Frank hopped in behind the wheel, looking pleased with himself.

He’d seen that mischief in his dad’s eyes before. Playing matchmaker, was he? What, did he think that Rori, with her model good looks and college education, was going to take a shine to the same cowboy she hadn’t wanted years before? Justin shook his head, vowing to give his dad a piece of his mind later.

“I’m really sorry about this.” She did look sorry. Sorry about being forced to see him again.

That made two of them.

JILLIAN HART

grew up on her family’s homestead, where she raised cattle, rode horses and scribbled stories in her spare time. After earning her English degree from Whitman College, she worked in travel and advertising before selling her first novel. When Jillian isn’t working on her next story, she can be found puttering in her rose garden, curled up with a good book or spending quiet evenings at home with her family.

The Rancher’s Promise
Jillian Hart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

My voice You shall hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning I will direct it to You, and I will look up.

—Psalms 5:3

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

“Justin, I finally got a call on the housekeeper job.”

“Oh, yeah? That’s a shock.” Justin Granger hefted the feed sack, settling the fifty-pound weight easily onto his shoulder. As a rancher, he was used to heavy lifting and in his line of work, this wasn’t considered heavy. He followed his dad out the open front door of the feed store, waved goodbye to Kit behind the counter and squinted in the hot late May sunshine. “I was beginning to think that putting an ad in the paper was a waste of time and money.”

“I figure we got lucky. Not many folks want to cook for the likes of us.” His dad, Frank Granger, swung two feed bags into the back of the white pickup parked curbside. “I made the interview for later today. If that doesn’t fit your schedule, then I can interview the gal on my own.”

“A gal?” That meant a woman. Not promising, not at all. Justin tossed the sack into the back and closed the tailgate. “I wish Aunt Opal hadn’t gone to Arizona. She’s about the only female I want to trust.”

“Not all women are like Tia or your mom.” Frank gave the keys a toss. “I’m sure there’s one trustworthy gal around these parts, at least enough honest to cook three squares for us and wash our socks.”

“You’re more optimistic than me, Dad.” Justin hopped behind the wheel and turned over the engine. Cool air breezed out of the vents, a relief from the intense summer heat that had hit hard and early. Not the best thing for the crops. They mostly ran cattle, but they grew their own alfalfa, corn and hay. “I don’t see why Autumn and Addison can’t do it.”

“Hey, if you want to tell your sisters to do housework instead of ranch work, be my guest. I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole. I’d rather wrestle a rattler bare-handed.” Frank buckled up. “No, it’s better we hire someone. I got a good feeling about this one.”

“I hope you’re right. I don’t want to wind up with another closet drinker who falls asleep on the couch instead of fixing our supper.” Justin checked the mirror. No traffic coming for as far as he could see, which wasn’t a surprise. In a town the size of Wild Horse, Wyoming, it would have been a shock if there had been a car. He pulled onto the main drag, scowling. “If I remember, you had a good feeling about the drinker, too.”

“Try to be more optimistic, son.”

Justin rolled his eyes. Optimism was for birds and fools. He’d tried it once and hadn’t liked it. He’d gotten his heart crushed and his illusions shattered because of it. In his view, it was wiser to expect the worst. Hard not to get disappointed or hurt that way.

“Looks like everyone’s gettin’ geared up for the festival.” His dad sounded pretty glad about that.

“Guess so.” Justin frowned, slowing down when the mayor held up a hand and walked into the road. Wild Horse was a small town with a handful of necessary businesses and an equal number of others tottering on the edge of failure, like The Greasy Spoon, which had been The Brown Bag eight months before. Justin stopped, wondering what the mayor wanted.

“Mornin’, Grangers.” Tim Wisener strolled up to the passenger window. “Got some exciting news. Just heard it from my wife a few minutes ago.”

“Don’t tell me you’re finally going to be a granddaddy,” Frank teased in his good-natured way. “Both your boys have been married for how long and no little ones?”

“Too long.” Tim shook his head. “Don’t know what it is with kids these days.”

Personally, Justin got the Wisener sons’ view of things. Facing the prospect of marrying a woman was tough enough—something he never wanted to do—but trusting one to raise a family in this remote, ranching town and stick with it when times got tough was a whole different question. He didn’t want to wind up like his dad, raising a family and making a living when a wife kept trying to bail him. That was one drama he wanted to avoid.

“Martha sold the old River Lodge. Deal closes right quick. It’s a lady from back east, New York, I think, putting down cash for the place and the cottage and acres behind it.”

“That is good news. This town could use something besides one sorry motel. Too bad it won’t be up and running for the annual shindig.”

Justin didn’t tune in to the older men’s conversation. This couldn’t have waited? He hadn’t the time or inclination to worry about the old lodge. He had a ranch to run and time was wasting. Now he had a new woman to worry about. Personally, the family did need a cook, but he didn’t have high expectations.

His dad kept talking, and Justin really didn’t listen until his ears perked up at the mention of horses. Along with a fine herd of Herefords and Angus, they raised and sold working ranch horses. That was his sister’s love. She possessed a knack for working with animals that no one in these parts had.

“Martha will be thrilled.” Tim backed away from the truck. “I’ll tell her to get a hold of Autumn.”

“You do that, Tim. See you around.”

Now that his dad was done jawing, Justin put the truck in gear. Something familiar caught his attention. He swung back to look at the woman walking along the sidewalk up ahead. She had dark blond hair with gold highlights, blue eyes the color of hyacinths, and his heart skipped three beats. He would know that heart-shaped face anywhere.

Rori. His high-school sweetheart. His palms went slick against the steering wheel. His pulse lurched to a shotgun start and galloped like a runaway horse. What was she doing back in town?

Not his business, he decided, whipped his gaze away and hit the gas. The truck zipped forward, but he didn’t let his eyes stray from the single yellow line. He was over her, done with romance and emotions that took a man up and down and lower still. White-knuckled, he prayed she didn’t notice them as they rolled by. Too bad he knew the sheriff was parked behind the library sign with radar, or he’d get up some speed and leave her behind in his dust. In fact, maybe a ticket would be worth it.

“Slow down, son.” Frank buzzed open his window. “Rori! What are you doin’ walking around town?”

Leave it to Dad, who had to chat with everyone. Tempted to keep on going, Justin bit the bullet and hit the brake. He could man up and face the girl who’d broken his heart, who had as good as told him he wasn’t good enough for her. No need to let her know how that broke him. Back then he’d been too young to know a smart man didn’t let a woman into his heart. All they did was cause wreckage and ruin.

Yep, he could handle this. He shoved the gear into Park and pulled the brake. Might as well get this over with. Let her see she didn’t have an effect on him these days.

“Hi, Mr. Granger.” She looked a mite surprised, folded a lock of silken hair behind her ear and approached the truck. Her gaze cut through the windshield and when she spotted him behind the wheel, she winced. The way her top teeth dug into her bottom lip, worrying it, was a clear sign. She wasn’t comfortable seeing him either. “Justin.”

“Rori.” No need to sound overly friendly. Likely as not she was back in Wyoming only to visit for a few days. Probably attending Terri Baker’s wedding. Had he thought it through and realized running into her might be a possibility, he would have stayed on the ranch and let his dad run the errands.

“Looks like you’ve got a problem, missy.” Dad leaned out the window to get a good look at something. “Your horse threw a shoe.”

“He’s trying to. It’s come off just enough that I can’t ride him back to Gram’s. I can’t get it off, wouldn’t you know?” She was a master of the shy grin. “I didn’t think to bring a shoe-puller with me.”

Don’t get sucked in by that grin, Justin told himself. No way, no sir. He’d stopped being immune to her smile when she’d taken his heart, stomped it to bits and shoved it back at him. He opened his mouth to tell her they’d be happy to call her grandparents for her, but Dad unbuckled and opened the door.

“We got some tools. We can improvise.” Frank’s boots hit the blacktop. “Justin, get out here and help while I dig through the back, will ya?”

If it were anyone else—anyone—he’d have done it before his father could volunteer him. Justin’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. Why hadn’t he kept driving when he’d had the chance?

Gritting his teeth, he yanked the belt loose and tumbled into the road. With every step he took, he felt the weight of her gaze. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much help around on a Sunday afternoon. There was no one handy to take over the task of helping the lady in distress. Most of the businesses in town were closed and aside from the mayor out for a stroll, there wasn’t a soul on the streets.

“I’ll go put in our lunch order.” Frank handed him a flathead screwdriver, a pair of pliers and a battered roll of duct tape. “You can stay here and help Rori.”

“No, Dad.” He couldn’t believe his own father would do this to him.

“Justin, you might as well go with your father,” Rori spoke up, clearly not comfortable being left alone with the likes of him. “I can do it myself.”

“That’s not the way we do things, little lady. Justin, you can catch up with me at Clem’s.” Frank hopped in behind the wheel and pulled the door shut, looking pleased with himself.

He’d seen that mischief in his dad’s eyes before. Playing matchmaker, was he? What, did he think that Rori with her model good looks and college education was going to take a shine to the same cowboy she hadn’t wanted years before? Justin shook his head, vowing to give his dad a piece of his mind later. The pickup’s engine revved and the vehicle took off, leaving him behind in the middle of town with the sun blazing and a hint of old anger beginning to brew.

“I’m really sorry about this.” She did look sorry. Sorry about being forced to see him again.

That made two of them.

“Don’t worry about it. This will only take a second.” He stalked around her and approached Copper with an outstretched hand, palm up. “Hey there, old boy. Remember me?”

The gelding snorted, his tail swished and he nickered low in his throat.

“Guess you do.” He stroked the horse’s neck. “He’s gone gray around the muzzle. He’s gotta be what, twenty?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Autumn’s mare is getting up there, too.” Justin’s face softened as he stroked the horse again. “Looks like your grandfolks have been taking good care of him.”

“He’s happy on their farm. He rules the roost.”

“At least that hasn’t changed.”

“Justin, you might as well hand over the tools and let me do this.” She took a deep breath. Talk about awkward. Nothing could cover up the fact that she’d hurt him long ago, and the pinch around his dark eyes told her he well remembered. “I’ll return your tools later.”

“I don’t mind.” He looked as if he did. Tension corded in his neck as he ran one hand down Copper’s back leg; his jaw went tight. A sure sign that he minded very much.

This was so not a good idea, especially when Copper refused to lift his hoof. She knelt at Justin’s side. Being near him felt strange. Enmity radiated from him like the sun’s heat off the earth. She wished she could elbow him aside and take over. “I know how to remove a shoe,” she insisted. “Let me do it.”

“Still as stubborn as ever.”

“Are you talking about me or the horse?”

“Hard to say. Right now the both of you are giving me a headache.” His grin belied his words.

She touched Copper’s pastern, and the gelding obliged by lifting his hoof.

“That’s more like it.” Justin fell silent, head bent as he edged the screwdriver beneath a bent nail head and gave it a good tap with the pliers.

It didn’t look as if he was going to relinquish the job. She scooped up the roll of tape he’d left on the pavement. It was hard to believe after all this time she was face-to-face with him. What were the chances she would run into him on her first trip into town? And it wasn’t fair. She hadn’t been prepared. She hadn’t been back for more than a few days, and here he was in real life—not a dream or a memory—his ruggedly handsome face as emotionless as granite.

Time had been good to him. The old affection she’d once felt was like a light going on in her battered heart. Not that she loved Justin—no, there was no chance of that now and he would never feel that way about her again.

So, maybe it wasn’t old affection she felt. Lord, let this be simply a touch of nostalgia. At least, she could pray it was so.

She studied the rugged cut of Justin’s profile, the shock of dark hair spilling over his forehead, the straight slope of his nose and the spare line of his lips. Familiar and dear, but time had changed him, too. It had matured his face, sculpted hollows into his cheeks and fine lines in the corners of his eyes. His shoulders had broadened, he was a man in his prime and looked every inch of it.

With a few yanks, he pulled the last nail out of Copper’s hoof and the horseshoe clattered to the pavement.

He plucked the tape from her fingers without meeting her gaze. He tore off a few strips and expertly lined them along the edge of Copper’s hoof, working quick but competently, still an accomplished ranchman. There was something about Justin’s combination of down-to-earth country, stoic strength and capability she would always admire.

“That ought to get you two home. Just go slow. No galloping.” He lowered Copper’s hoof to the ground and retrieved the shoe. “Want me to put this in the saddle pack?”

“Sure.” The wind gusted in a hot airless puff, stirring leaves in the aspens that marched down the sidewalks. A dust devil whirled a thick funnel in the feed store’s lot, giving her an excuse to look down the main street. The sidewalks were as empty as the road. Way down at the far end of town, the distant sound of kids’ voices rose from the drive-in, known for its selection of ice cream.

What did she say to him? He didn’t seem concerned about the silence as he unbuckled the pack slung behind the saddle and slid the shoe into it.

“Grocery shopping?” His brow furrowed as he inspected the pack’s contents. “Wouldn’t it have been quicker to drive?”

Okay, this was even more awkward. She felt the weight of his gaze searching her face for signs. Maybe he was noticing the discount-store T-shirt, the denim shorts she wore and the inexpensive flip-flops on her feet. Knowing how small-town rumors went, he was probably curious where her luxury sports car was and her designer clothes. Maybe even her wedding ring.

Humiliation swept through her. Likely as not he was holding back an “I told you so.” Maybe he was waiting to hear that the life she’d left Wyoming to find after graduation had not turned out better, just different. And the man who’d taken her to the opera and symphony hadn’t compared to the one she’d left behind.

“I suppose you miss riding.” He filled the silence without a hint of an “I told you so.”

“Something like that.” She lifted her chin, wiser these days and stronger than she ever could have guessed, even if her knees were wobbly when she went to untie Copper from the hitching post. “I haven’t been in a saddle for so long, I almost forgot what to do.”

“You didn’t have a horse boarded somewhere in Dallas?” A hint of surprise dug into the corners of his mouth.

“No.” Life was like that. She’d wanted a horse; Brad had said it would be an outrageous expense they couldn’t afford. Things simply hadn’t worked out. She knew God was in charge, taking her where He thought she should be. “Besides, I still have Copper. How about you? Still riding Scout?”

“Now and then. He’s retired from ranch work these days.”

“You must miss him.”

“Work isn’t the same without him. I didn’t know you were coming back for Terri’s wedding.”

“Coming home was a last-minute decision.” She gathered Copper’s reins and drew him away from the post. It was easier to concentrate on rubbing his nose than on meeting Justin’s gaze. She didn’t want her old beau to know how wrong she’d been and how stupid. A country girl like her hadn’t suspected Brad’s duplicity until it was too late.

“Hope you have a nice stay in town.” He tipped his hat, walking backward. A gentleman, for he could have vented his anger at her, he could have asked questions about her life she did not want to answer, things she did not want him to know. He could have brought up how she’d hurt him and that would have torn at her conscience, but he didn’t. He squared his shoulders, nodded goodbye and ambled away, tools and tape in hand.

Lost chances. They troubled her as she slipped off her flip-flops and stowed them in the pack. You chose a path in life and you followed it. You never knew if it would take you where you wanted to go. You just had to trust, even if the choice had been a mistake. She never would have guessed the road she’d followed would have led her back home, full circle, standing right where she’d started.

Copper blew out his breath impatiently, as if to remind her that time was wasting. The sun bore down on her, and the blacktop sizzled beneath her feet. She swung into the saddle, ignoring the burn of hot leather, and reined Copper toward the edge of town.

At least that was over. Meeting Justin. Recovering from the shock of seeing him again. Her palms went damp, and it wasn’t from the midday heat. She wished she could rewind, hit delete and replay the past few moments. She should have apologized to him. She should have asked how he’d been. She should have explained that the reason she’d come back wasn’t only to attend Terri’s wedding, although she had planned on going.

“I hadn’t been prepared to see him so soon,” she explained.

Copper shook his head, plodding along the strip of Main reserved for parking, a totally understanding friend. She rubbed her free hand along his warm neck, his coarse mane tickling the backs of her fingers. She’d been reconciled to the idea of seeing Justin later today at the ranch, where he would probably be busy in the fields. She hadn’t been prepared to talk with him, to look him in the eyes and see how much bitterness had taken him over.

She still owed him an apology. She didn’t intend to shirk from it. As a Wyoming girl, she knew how to stand up and take a hit on the chin.

The front door of the diner swung shut. A new neon blue and yellow sign proclaimed the establishment to be The Greasy Spoon, but everyone called it Clem’s. Clem had initially run the place beginning with the First World War, when he’d bought the building new. He’d made the best milkshakes in the county. Bittersweet, she remembered sitting in a vinyl booth sipping on a shake and laughing with her high-school friends with Justin always at her side.

Was he thinking about those days, too? As Copper circled around the new white pickup parked along the curb, she kept her gaze glued on the empty road ahead. She didn’t want Justin to think that she was looking for him through the sun-washed windows. The afternoon would prove to be tough enough without adding the memories of their old romance to the mix.

Chapter Two

Justin swiped the last two steak fries through the puddle of ketchup on his plate and jammed them into his mouth, already rising from the kitchen table. Eating takeout was getting old, especially since the town diner’s menu variety was limited, but it was better than the alternative.

“Hey, not so fast, bud.” His sister, Autumn, strawberry blonde and fragile-looking, unhooked her leg from the chair rung, snatched her tan Stetson from the sideboard and stole a wedge of pickle from his plate. “It’s your turn to clean up.”

“I’ll do it after supper.” He loped toward the back door and the mudroom, where his boots were waiting. “I’ve got fences to repair and a lupine patch I gotta spray.”

“That can wait ten minutes. Dad, tell him, will you?” Autumn, two years younger and the bane of his existence when they were little, snagged a water bottle from the fridge. “If I’m stuck with a kitchen mess again, I’m going to chase you down, big brother, and rope you like a calf.”

“Best listen to her, son.” Frank glanced up from the current issue of a cattleman’s magazine. “I wouldn’t mess with a woman when she’s got that tone in her voice.”

Autumn shot him a triumphant grin on her way out the door. “And wipe down the counters and the table, too. Use soapy water, not a wet paper towel. Or my threat stands.”

An empty threat, but still. What was the world coming to? He had a good eight more hours of work to do for the day, and the Sunday-morning service and errands in town hadn’t helped. “What we need is to lure Aunt Opal out of retirement with a huge raise.”

“Not going to happen. Don’t think I didn’t try it.” Frank slapped the magazine shut. “Might as well clean up. Got that interview in a few minutes.”

“Great.” Justin stuck his head in the mudroom to give Autumn a few instructions on the yearlings, but she was already outside. Determined to catch her, he hit the screen door, sending it flying against the wall with a bang.

A horse neighed in protest, he heard a woman’s “whoa!” and a thud of something hitting the dry dirt. A dust plume rose, shielding the rider who had taken a fall. Justin shrank a few inches, recognizing the red gelding skittish in the driveway.

Copper.

A tall, willowy figure rose up, at first a slim feminine shadow in the dust, but as the cloud began to settle, details emerged. The things about Rori he would never forget—the swirl of her long straight hair in the Wyoming breeze, the curve of her porcelain-cut chin, and the way she looked classy even wearing a battered baseball cap.

“What are you doing here?” He heard the venom in his words and winced. He hadn’t meant to sound harsh. His thoughts had somehow influenced his voice, the same unexplainable way he had found himself mysteriously on the edge of the lawn without realizing he’d moved a single inch off the porch.

“I’m falling off my horse, apparently.” She dusted herself off. “Copper still doesn’t like loud sudden sounds.”

“If you’re out of practice riding, then you are out of practice falling.” There were a couple of dried blades of grasses stuck in her hair and a streak of dirt on the hem of her shorts. “Hurting anywhere?”

“I’m tougher than I look.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her soulful eyes. He didn’t know what her life had been like in Dallas, but the bright sparkle that used to light her up was gone.

“Howdy again, Rori.” Frank’s voice behind him was deep with amusement. “If your grandfather wasn’t able to replace that shoe for you, I can take Copper to the barn and get it done.”

“Really? I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

“Me? No trouble for me. I didn’t say I would do it.”

Yep, leave it to Dad. Not that he wouldn’t have made the same offer, but his old man didn’t have to sound so pleased about it. “I’ll take the horse. Go back inside and finish your lunch, Dad.”

But did Frank listen? No. “You and Rori go on inside and get settled. I’ll be back to start the interview in a few.”

“Interview?” His brain screeched to a stop. He meant to set out after his father to take the horse and get Copper shoed, but his boots mysteriously stuck to the lawn. Rooted in place, he tried to shake the fog out of his head. He couldn’t have heard that right. “Interview?”

“For the housekeeping position.” Frank tossed over his shoulder as he took the reins from Rori. “Don’t let his bark trouble you none. Justin’s gotten cranky over the years. We manage to put up with him because he’s family.”

“I’m sure that’s the only reason.” Her laugh was like a trill of a creek, bubbling, quiet and inviting, leaving him thirsting to hear more. Unaware of her effect on him, she shoved a stray strand of hair beneath her baseball cap. “Thanks, Mr. Granger.”

“If you’re gonna be working for me, you’ve got to call me Frank.” He clucked to the gelding, who followed him confidently, and the two set off down the gravel and dirt road to the horse barn.

“Thanks, Frank,” Rori called out with a smile, earning a wave as man and horse turned the corner and disappeared from sight. She faced him, looking a little pale. “I guess you didn’t know I wanted the job?”

“Would I be standing here with my jaw dropped if I did?” He jammed his hands in his jeans pockets, mostly wanting something to do with them. Throttling his dad didn’t seem like a good idea, and it certainly wouldn’t solve his problems with Rori. “Why didn’t you say something in town?”

“I thought you knew.”

“If you’re looking for work, then that means you’re staying around and this is not a quick trip home for Terri’s wedding.” Anger unrooted his feet and he marched toward the house. “You lied.”

“No, I am going to Terri’s wedding. I assumed your dad told you that I was here for an extended stay.”

“Dad didn’t tell me anything.” Nothing unusual about that. He could guess at what his father was up to.

The wind gusted as if it were in cahoots with his dad because it brought the faint whiff of Rori’s rose-scented perfume. He strode the same path they used to walk hand-in-hand. He marched up the back porch and ignored the swing where they’d spent many a summer afternoon sipping homemade lemonade and doing their homework.

Judging by Rori’s silence, she might be remembering, too.

“Maybe I should ask. Do you want me to apply for the job? I understand if you don’t.” She swept past the screen door he held for her and waltzed into the mudroom like she’d done hundreds of times a dozen years ago. “The thing is that I need a job, and there aren’t many positions available in town. Nothing else, as a matter of fact. That’s the only reason I answered your dad’s ad.”

“Sure, I get it.” He let the door slam shut and followed her into the kitchen, boots and all. “I suppose that fancy lawyer you married will be following you soon. Will he be putting up a shingle in town?”

“No. Brad won’t be coming. I’m on my own.” Raw emotion cut across her face and while she set her chin, straightened her shoulders and visibly wrestled it down, her sorrow remained. Sadness that was banked but unmistakably bleak in her violet-blue eyes.

Sympathy eked into him, and he did his best to stop it. No need to feel sorry for the girl who’d gotten everything she wanted. He yanked the refrigerator door open. “Sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Me, too.”

He set his heart against her. He was no longer swayed by her emotions. He felt sorry for her. A failed marriage was nothing to celebrate. But that was as far as he was willing to go. He plunked the pitcher onto the table and went to fetch a glass out of the cupboards. He ought to say something more to fill the silence, but anything he could think to say would make him seem interested in her life.

Hardly. She’d made her decision, and now he made his. She might be thinking she’d settle for her second choice. After all, he was still available, right? Oh, he knew how women thought. They were largely a mystery, but he’d learned a thing or two over the years. The bottom line with them was wanting security, marriage and a man to pay the bills. The bigger the man’s wallet, the better.

He slammed the glasses onto the table with enough force that the clunk reported through the kitchen like a gunshot. He glanced down, surprised that he hadn’t broken them. That was when he realized half of the table was free of foam containers, plastic bags and the plates from lunch. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Clearing a place so we can talk about the job.” Rori calmly set the armful she’d gathered onto the nearest counter, studied him with her steady gaze and backed toward the door. “But now that I see what you really think, I’m going to go. I thought we were adults and what we had was water under the bridge, but I was wrong. I’m sorry, Justin. I really am.”

Uh-oh. His scars were showing, wounds he’d vowed to keep hidden and buried. He hung his head. “Didn’t mean to growl at you.”

“It’s okay. I know you well. Your bark is worse than your bite.”

“I never bite.”

“I’m glad that hasn’t changed.” She gripped the screen door handle.

“You don’t need to go.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you wouldn’t mind me working here?” She’d been the one to leave. She’d broken his heart. That she was here at all showed how desperate she was. She didn’t need to read minds to know what he was debating. She opened the door, fighting to hide her disappointment. “I don’t blame you. I understand.”

“No, wait. Give a fellow the chance to think.” He paced after her, squinting at the sunlight when he joined her on the porch. “I haven’t had time to prepare myself for seeing you again. I need to think this through. You, the interview, it was all sprung on me.”

“I suppose that was your dad’s plan.” She could see that now. Frank had been downright cheerful on the phone when she’d first called. He’d been welcoming earlier that morning in town. And now he’d set them up in the kitchen together. He wanted to give them time alone. Frank had meant well, but this wasn’t what she wanted or Justin, either, judging by the frown carved into his granite features. There was nothing else to do but to leave. She eased down the steps and into the burn of the sun. “Your dad is destined to be disappointed.”

“I think I heard the front door shut.” Justin cocked his head, listening. “Suppose he’s sneaking in through the living room listening in to see if his plan is working?”

“I can’t believe he would do this. Your dad is not a romantic.”

“He always liked you, Rori. He said you were good for me.”

“You were good for me. You were a great boyfriend. I’ll always be grateful for that. We grew up together.”

“Up and away.” He hadn’t forgotten. His face was set, his emotions stone. But had he forgiven?

She didn’t think that was likely. She didn’t blame him. She’d been overwhelmed when he, the quarterback of the football team, had asked her, a freshman, to go to Clem’s after school for shakes. For as long as she had been able to remember, she’d had a crush on Justin Granger. Three years older, he’d been every girl’s wish—smart, kind, strong, funny, popular and drop-dead gorgeous. There had only been one thing she’d wanted more in life than being Justin Granger’s girl—a college education and the chance to study music.

“So, are you back to stay? Or is this a temporary thing?” Justin’s deep voice hid any shades of emotion. Was he fishing for information or was he finally about to say, “I told you so?”

“I will probably go back to teaching in Dallas when fall quarter starts, but things could change. I’ll just have to wait and see.” The things in life she used to think were so important no longer mattered. Standing on her own two feet, building a life for herself, healing her wounds—that meant everything now.

God had given her no other option but to return to her grandparents’ tiny house for the summer. She had to think He had a purpose in bringing her here. One of her favorite verses was from Jeremiah. For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.

“And this man you married?” he asked. “Did he leave you, or did you leave him?”

“He threw me out.” She adjusted her baseball cap brim and waited for Justin’s reaction. Surely a man with that severe a frown on his face was about to take delight in the irony. She’d turned down Justin’s love, and her husband of five years had thrown away hers. If she were Justin, she would want her off his land.

“You were nothing but honest with me back then.” He leaned against the railing, the wind raking his dark hair, and a different emotion passed across his hard countenance. “I was the one who never listened. I loved you so much back then, I don’t think I could hear anything but what I wanted.”

“I loved you, too. I wish I could have been different for you.” Helpless, she took another step toward the driveway. She didn’t know how to thank him. He could be treating her a whole lot worse right now, and she would deserve it. “Goodbye, Justin.”

“I suppose you need a job?” he called out from the railing, casually concerned.

“I’ll figure out something.” Needed a job? No, she was frantic for one.

How did she tell him the truth? That she’d been given enough money for a bus ride home. That she’d never thought twice about letting her husband handle the money, or the fact that he’d cleaned out the bank accounts and cancelled her cards before he’d replaced her with his plastic-surgery-enhanced receptionist.

“I haven’t had a chance to get that shoe back on Copper,” he called out.

“Gramps can do it tonight.” Probably. If not, she could always call in the farrier. Costly, but it had to be done.

“Tell you what? You stay and round us up some decent supper, and I’ll take care of your horse.” Justin loped down the steps, his long-legged stride eating up the distance between them. “That will be the interview. If the food is edible, then as far as I’m concerned the job is yours. It’s really up to my dad.”

“Really?”

“I’ll hardly be around most of the summer anyway. You know how it is. Long hours on the range.”

“You’re agreeing because you’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”

“Discount-store clothes a size too large—probably your grandmother’s. Am I right?”

Rori ignored the sting of her pride. The plain yellow T-shirt was Gram’s, something the older woman had never worn much, and so were the flip-flops. “I didn’t have a whole lot of time to pack.”

“You don’t have a car, do you?” Justin stalked closer. “That’s why you rode Copper over here. No clothes, no vehicle and no money. That’s my guess.”

Shame scorched her face. She scrambled to hold on to her dignity. “I really don’t feel comfortable discussing this with you.”

“That fancy big-city fellow you married left you without a care.” Anger dug into the corners of his mouth, making his high cheekbones appear like merciless slashes beneath his sun-browned skin. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“That’s not what I expected from you.” She stared at the grass at her feet to avoid the pity in Justin’s eyes—pity for her. She couldn’t blame her circumstances on anyone but herself. No pity needed. What she had to do was to wise up. Reach inside and find the tough, country girl she’d once known.

“Why don’t we let the past stay where it belongs? Behind us.” Justin hiked backward toward the barn. “It’s gone. Done and over with. We’ll just go on from here.”

“Employer and employee, you mean?”

“That’s it.” He gave her a slow grin, the one that used to make her heartbeat flutter in adoration.

Maybe there was a tiny hint of a flutter—just old memories, nothing more as she watched him go. Looked as if she had a chance for this job after all. With any luck, there would be enough groceries in the pantry to whip up a supper the Grangers weren’t likely to forget.

She hurried back to the house, glad to find Justin’s dad holding a box of recipe cards left behind by his aunt Opal. It was nice to have some inside help.

“Is that Copper?” Autumn skidded to a stop in front of the corner stall. “Did Mr. Cornell bring him over?”

“Nope.” Justin circled around her in the barn’s main aisle, hefting his working horse’s saddle. “Rori rode him over.”

“Rori? You mean she’s in town?”

“No need to look so excited about it.” He’d done his best not to think about her all afternoon long. His work was tough and demanded all of his attention, but somehow she’d remained at the front of his mind. Patching up a calf, checking on his herd, hauling feed and playing vet, all the while bothered by the image of Rori Cornell in a hand-me-down shirt and sadness deepening her violet eyes.

He mentally hammered up a barricade around his heart. Sure, he might feel sorry for her. She’d obviously come on hard times. But that was all he intended to feel for her. Ever.

“She’s up at the main house.” He shouldered through the tack-room door and plopped the saddle onto a saw-horse. He would wipe down the leather this evening. Not that he was in a hurry, but he knew if he didn’t show up for supper, Dad would come out looking for him.

Frank had always thought the world of Rori. Probably because she had always been honest from the get-go. She’d always had bigger plans than settling down in small-town Wyoming. He figured she was always meant for something better.

“I can’t believe it! Rori came back for the wedding, didn’t she?” Autumn deposited her saddle, dancing in place. “I can’t believe no one told me. Then again, considering the men around here, maybe I can.”

“I can feel your gaze boring a hole in the back of my head.” He gave Copper a nose rub on his way outside. “I’m not the reason she didn’t call up and tell you she was back in town. Don’t blame this on me.”

“Who else?” Autumn padded after him. “Besides, that’s what big brothers are good for. Taking the blame.”

“Funny.” He rolled his eyes. “And before you say it, I’m over Rori. It doesn’t matter to me that she’s here.”

“There was a time when I would have called you a liar if you’d said that, but now I know it’s true.” Autumn caught up with him, the heels of her riding boots crunching in the grass. A sign of her determination. “You’ve become a cold, hard man, Justin. I’m worried about you.”

“Nothing new there.” He’d been like this a long time. It had taken him a while to learn the important lessons about women, but he’d finally done it. “No need to worry about me. Go on up to the house and catch up with your old friend.”

“My old friend?” Autumn sounded as if she was going to correct him but then decided better of it. “Aren’t you coming, too?”

“Got a mare I need to check on first.” He climbed through the board fence into a grassy paddock. A small band of expecting mares looked up from their grazing and wheeled in his direction. “I won’t be long.”

“Need any help?”

His sister stood there, the sun at her back, the only female he could count on. She did a man’s work without complaint day in and day out come blizzard cold or blistering heat and still he couldn’t trust her with the truth.

Help? He would need a ten-gallon bucket of it if Rori ended up working for the family. Yet how could he object? She wouldn’t have left behind the city life she’d chosen if she had any other option. He wanted to keep his distance, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see her hurting.

God had a way of keeping a man humble. Justin tipped his hat brim lower to keep the sun off his face, held his hands out to show the mares he’d come without treats and went on with his work.

Chapter Three

“Mighty fine grub, Rori.” Mr. Granger—Frank—dug his spoon into the big bowl of chili in front of him. “We haven’t eaten this good in months.”

Judging by the look of satisfaction on his face, he was telling the truth instead of tempering it with kindness. Relieved, she turned back to the sink. She wasn’t the most accomplished cook, since she and Brad had employed a maid who’d done most of the food preparation. “I’ve gotten rusty, but being home with Gram and Gramps has given me some practice.”

“If this is rusty, I can’t wait to eat what you fix when you’re back in practice. Autumn, where did Justin get off to?”

“He had to check on a mare.”

“He missed grace, and if he’s not careful he’s going to miss supper.” He didn’t look all that happy with his son. Probably it was disappointing work being a matchmaker.

“Do you want me to stick around, or should I take off?” She’d tidied the kitchen and put all the prep dishes into the dishwasher. “I can stay, but my grandparents—”

“Are expecting you.” Frank nodded. “Sure, go ahead. It’s Justin’s turn to do dishes, since he left the lunch mess.”

“Serves him right,” littlest sister Addison piped up from her side of the table. It was hard to get used to her being so grown up. When Rori left town, Addison had been eight. Now she had just finished her junior year of college. The girl with the ponytails and freckles was only a memory replaced by a tall beauty. Addison frowned, wrinkling her perfect complexion. “Justin looks down on kitchen work.”

“He does, and it’s our job to keep him in line,” Autumn added with a wink.

What Rori wanted to do was to get out of the house before Justin walked in. Not that she felt compelled to avoid him, but her dignity was bruised. He pitied her. No doubt, that wouldn’t change. She grabbed her ball cap from the hat hooks by the back door. “Thanks. Have a good evening, everyone.”

She slipped outside listening to the three Grangers at the table call out their goodbyes to her. The sunlight had tempered, the blazing heat kicked down a notch to hint at a beautiful early summer evening. She hopped down the steps and hurried across the lawn, the grass fragrant beneath her flip-flops.

The hills, the stretch of the high prairie and the rim of the breathtaking Tetons in the distance surrounded her. She trudged toward the barn, keeping a lookout for Justin. Best to avoid him if she could. That wouldn’t always be possible now that Frank had offered her the job, but it was likely. Justin had changed, and she hated to think she had played a hand in that.

What I would give to go back and do it over again, she thought, half prayer, half impossible wish. If she could turn back time, she never would have accepted his offer for their first fateful milkshake together. She would never have trusted or married Brad.

“Rori!”

She heard the wind carry her name. Through the lush green fields she saw Justin in the knee-high grasses, his hat shading his face and a gloved hand raised up to her. More than distance separated them. She waved back, hurrying to the barn, and freed Copper from a stall. The white-muzzled gelding nickered a warm welcome and pressed his face in her hands with unmistakable affection.

Warmth filled her—emotions she’d been battling since she’d come home. Copper’s steadfast friendship, the sweet-scented grass and the earthy hint of dust in the air, the endless blue skies, it all overwhelmed her. Life may have led her away but her roots remained deep in this land. The days of long ago felt so close she could almost hear them. The sound of the radio in Dad’s truck, running up the back steps to the whir of Mama’s mixer in the kitchen, the carefree head toss Copper used to greet her with when he was young, bounding up to the fence.

“I missed you, too, old buddy.” She leaned her forehead to his, her best friend. “C’mon. Let’s ride home.”

By the time she’d saddled and bridled him and mounted up, the yard was empty of all signs of Justin. He was probably inside finishing up the chili and corn-bread she’d made. Maybe he was seated at the table and facing the windows overlooking the backyard and the mountain view.

Was he watching her now? she wondered as she reined Copper toward the driveway. Or was he doing his best to avoid her? She sat straight in the saddle, glad when the curving road took her out of sight. It was sad how much had changed between them, when they had once been so close.

Of course, that was her fault, plain and simple. She drew her cap brim over her eyes and, squinting into the light, rode the low rays of the sun home.

“How is Wildflower?”

Autumn’s question came from as if far away. Justin shoveled a steaming spoonful of chili into his mouth, hardly feeling the burn on his tongue. He grabbed a nearby glass, gulped down some milk to put out the fire, and realized everyone in the kitchen was staring at him. Addison struggled to hide a grin.

“Seems he’s got something important on his mind, girls.” Frank, grabbing a cookie from the stash they’d bought from Clem’s, couldn’t look happier. “Looks like Autumn had better ask her question again.”

Justin cleared his throat. He was in no mood for ribbing, however well-intentioned. “Wildflower is fine. She’s close to her time.”

“Too bad Cheyenne isn’t back from school yet. I reckon she’d like to be there when her mare foals.” Frank grabbed his root beer off the table. “The Mariners are on. Anyone going to join me?”

“I will.” Addison bounded up from the table, still coltish and energetic, her strawberry-blond ponytail bobbing. “Are you comin’, Autumn?”

“No, I’m going to go sit with the mares and leave Justin with the dishes.” His oldest little sister seemed pretty pleased with herself, too. “Have fun, brother dearest. I know what you think of housework.”

“I don’t have a bad opinion about housework,” he argued. He had more outside work than he could get done in a day, the last thing he needed was more. “I just don’t want to do it.”

“Sure. We wouldn’t want you to demean yourself,” Addison joked.

“Not our brother.” Grinning at him, Autumn stole her Stetson off the wall hook. “I don’t know how you turned out to be so grumpy. You must have gotten a bad gene. It’s a shame, really.”

“A terrible shame,” Addison agreed from the counter, where she was helping herself to a cookie. “Is it my imagination, or is he grumpier tonight?”

“He’s definitely grumpier,” Autumn agreed. “Let’s hope his mood improves.”

“Or it’s going to be a long summer,” Addison predicted, backing out of the room to join their dad. The TV droned to life in the next room.

“It will be a longer summer if you two don’t knock it off.” He scowled over another spoonful of chili. “Or else.”

“Yeah, like we’re scared.” Autumn plopped her hat onto her head. “You’re all bark, Justin.”

“You never know. One day I might change.”

“I’m not worried.” She stole a cookie from the counter, too. “I’ve known you all my life. You’re one of the good guys.”

“Yeah? Haven’t you heard? Good guys finish last.”

“You’re thinking of Rori?” She nibbled on the edge of the cookie. “What happened to her? She looks so sad. Is there something I should know? Her grandparents are all right, aren’t they?”

“Rori didn’t say Del and Polly were having health problems.”

“Just checking.” Autumn said nothing more, waiting a beat before she padded through the door, but what she hadn’t said lingered more loudly than if she’d uttered the words.

Rori wasn’t all right. She was hurting. Regardless of what he’d come to think about her and women like her, he didn’t like that. Not at all.

Blurry-eyed, Rori bounded through the early morning kitchen, eyes glued to the coffeemaker in the corner. Thank heavens it was chugging away. The smell of caffeine lured her straight to the counter.

“Good mornin’, Pumpkin.” Gram’s voice startled her. There was a clang of a pot at the stove. “Aren’t you up early?”

“This isn’t early. This is still technically nighttime.” Dawn was a light haze at the rim of the dark world. “Do you get up every morning like this?”

“Early to bed, early to rise.”

“That’s your secret to being healthy and wise.” She grabbed a cup from the cabinet. “I’m going to ride Copper over to the Grangers and leave you and Gramps with the truck.”

“Oh, we were looking forward to running you over there.” Gram flipped sausage links in the fry pan. “Del is so pleased to have you back, he’s over the moon. I am, too. Your sweet face livens up our place.”

“Not as much as yours does.” She brushed a kiss against her grandmother’s cheek. “I won’t be home until late.”

“Should I keep a plate of supper warm for you?”

“No, but leave the dishes. I have to make myself useful some way.” The sound of coffee pouring and the fragrant smell of the rising steam made her sigh. A few jolts of caffeine and maybe her brain would stop feeling heavy and foggy. She hadn’t slept so hard in ages. It was all the fresh air and country living. At least being forced to come back home had a few perks.

“You know I can’t let dishes sit around in the sink. Goodness.” Gram laughed to herself. “The idea.”

“Try it, would you?” Rori slid the carafe back onto the burner and reached for the sugar bowl. “I have to earn my keep, and I’ll be mad if you don’t.”

“I don’t want you mad.” Gram slid a sausage from the pan onto a paper-toweled plate. “I want you stayin’ around as long as you can.”

“Me, too.” Rori gave the coffee a stir and set the spoon in the sink. “There’s no place like home.”

“You remember that when you start thinking about leaving us at summer’s end.” Tears prickled in her grandmother’s gentle blue eyes. “Not that I blame you, but I miss you and your sister when you’re not around.”

“Ditto.” Rori squeezed her grandmother’s frail shoulder, unable to say how hard it had been to stay away. Visits home weren’t enough, and a part of her had been sorely missing. She loved her work at the private arts school where she taught piano and music theory, but it took coming home to remember how much she loved Wyoming’s peace and quiet, the restful stretch of rolling fields, hills and endless sky of this farm and the family she loved. Her grandparents had taken her in and her younger sister when their parents had been killed in a blizzard. “Give me a call if you need anything. I won’t be home until near dark.”

“Have a good day, Pumpkin.” Gran whipped open the oven door and wrapped something in a paper towel. “Here. You need breakfast.”

She took the scrambled egg-white sandwich with thanks and headed outside. Things were simple here. Balanced meals three times a day, no endless hurrying, no pressure to measure up, no feeling like a Wyoming girl out of place in her husband’s life.

It was an odd feeling to grab the jingling bridle from the barn, whistle to Copper in the pasture and slip between the barbed-wire fencing as she did when she was younger. If only she could take an eraser and wipe away that chunk of time she’d spent in Dallas, then maybe she could find a way to be happy again. Erase her mistakes and find some peace. Wouldn’t that be a blessing?

“Good morning, old friend.” She petted Copper’s nose when he came up to her. She laughed when he tried to get a hold of her sandwich. “That’s not for you. Sorry.”

Copper gave her a sheepish look, as if he were saying he had to give it a try anyway. She slipped the bridle over his head, the bit into his mouth, and managed to get onto his back without spilling her coffee. They headed off through the fields surrounded by birdsong and the golden crown of the rising sun. Beauty surrounded her. The only shadow that loomed ahead of her was thoughts of Justin.

He wanted to leave the past behind them. Water under the bridge. He apparently had no problem doing that. He had probably gotten over her in a flash. Men were built that way, she feared. They didn’t feel as deeply as women did. Love didn’t rope them in as much, nor did it sink beyond the heart to the soul.

Justin had gotten hurt when she’d told him she couldn’t marry him and set aside her dreams for him. But he probably hadn’t shed a tear over it. He probably didn’t feel racked with regret regardless of the number of years that had passed. He just probably turned off his heart like a switch, and she was sorry for that.

He would never know how much she had wanted to say yes. She took a bite of her sandwich and a sip of coffee. He would never know how afraid she’d been of living a life without having reached her biggest goals, ending up with nothing but a list of regrets. Losing her mom in junior high had affected her forever. Life was finite. You had to make it count.

Ironically, she’d racked up more regrets by running toward her future. One thing was for sure, there would be only smart decisions and careful choices from here on out. As if in agreement, the sun peeked over the rolling hills, bringing light to the shadows.

Justin heard the muffled clip of horseshoes on the hard-packed dirt outside the main horse barn. He stuck his head over the rail to see Rori riding in on a sunbeam. Dust motes danced in the soft yellow rays, hazing her like a dream.

Or, he realized, like an answer to a quick prayer. Wildflower was standing next to him, skin flicking, head down, panting heavily. “Rori, can I ask you to race up to the house and call the vet?”

“What’s wrong?”

“My sister’s horse is having some trouble.” He kept his voice calm and authoritative, letting the mare know he was confident and in charge of her. That was the best way to comfort the frightened creature. “The number’s on the wall above the kitchen phone. Tell Nate it’s Wildflower and he needs to get over here pronto. Oh, and fetch my dad, too.”

“You got it.” She wheeled the red horse around and with a touch of her heels, the gelding leaped into an all-out gallop. Head down, tail flying. It was good to see the old gelding still had his racing legs.

Wildflower blew out her breath to get his attention. She watched him with unblinking liquid brown eyes, staring so hard it was as if she were trying to give him an important message. Good thing he spoke horse.

“I hear you, girl.” He rubbed her muzzle. “Let’s try to walk you. Are you game?”

She followed him into the aisle, head down, winded. First foals could be tough on a small mare. He and his dad had kept a close eye on her and they’d caught her trouble as early as they could, but she had a hard row ahead. He wished Cheyenne had been able to make it back home from vet school. He could really use her help right now. He didn’t want to be the one she blamed if things went wrong.

“Just keep it slow and steady, girl. I’m right here with you.” He and Wildflower had made it to the end of the aisle and carefully turned around before hooves drummed outside. Rori rode up, dismounting in a graceful sweep. She was a welcome sight, as hard as that was to admit. “Did you reach Nate?” he asked her.

“I heard him running to his truck before he hung up on me. He promised to break speed limits on the way over.” She patted Copper’s neck and led him into the end stall she’d used yesterday. “Your dad said he’s on his way, too.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Of all the mornings to forget my cell phone.”

“It’s hard to function properly before sunup.” She unbuckled the old bridle and gated the horse in. “She’s not looking so good. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“We’ll see. If she holds off until the vet gets here, then you are free and clear. But if not, I’ll need your help with the foaling.”

“Okay.” She reached over the rail to grab the empty water bucket from Copper’s stall. “I’ll fetch some water first, and then take over walking her if you want to get the stall ready.”

“I’ll take you up on that. Here.” He ambled close and stole the bucket from her grip.

This close, she could smell the hay on his T-shirt and the soap from his morning shower. Without a hat, his dark hair stood up on end, still shower damp, and his lean cheeks were freshly shaven, showing off the deep groves bracketing both sides of his mouth, groves that transformed into dimples when he grinned but now they were grim set lines.

“Thanks ahead of time.” He put distance between them. “It’s good to have you here after all.”

“Oh, you say that as if it had been a huge question? I thought we settled that.”

“I know. I might not have been fully truthful yesterday. What I want to feel and what I admit to feeling are two different things.” He handed over Wildflower’s lead. “This is the truth. When I saw you ride through that door, I knew I could count on you.”

“Back at you.” She clucked to the mare, encouraging her forward. “The vet is going to be here in a bit. Your dad is coming. She’s going to be just fine.”

“As long as we can get that foal turned first, she will be.” Grim, determined, he hiked to the nearby sink. The walled-off room hid him from her sight, but nothing could diminish his steady, capable iron will and his endless decency.

It was heartening to know some things didn’t change. That for all the prickly layers and cool granite Justin had become, he was still underneath the cowboy she’d always admired. His heart wasn’t switched off completely, after all. She may as well face the fact that she would probably always be just a little bit in love with him.

She cooed soothingly to the struggling mare as they took slow painful steps down the aisle.

Chapter Four

Justin upended the bucket into the stall, letting fresh grain tumble into the feeding trough. The polite old gelding nickered what sounded like thanks and swished his tail before nosing in to lap up the treats. One animal cared for. He knuckled back his hat, watching Rori out of the corner of his eye. The bulk of his thoughts ought to be centered on the expecting mare, but his mind seemed drawn magnetically to the woman, fresh-faced and so wholesome she made his teeth ache.

She looked as if she belonged here with her light hair tied back in a single ponytail swinging slightly with her slow gait. The concern for the mare touching her face made her a hundred times more beautiful than any makeup artist could. With the sun spearing through the skylights above and through the open doors, she looked ethereal, too lovely to be true, and something straight out of his forgotten dreams.

Footsteps padded through the grass and dirt. Dad’s gait, dragging a bit from a long night spent up and down checking on the mares. Frank came into sight. “Looks like she surprised you.”

“Yep. I came out to feed the stock and Wildflower was down in the field.”

“I wasn’t talking about the horse.”

Justin frowned. Impossible to miss the grin on his dad’s face. He figured he would set them up, was that it? He shook his head at his dad. Now wasn’t the time to hash this out. The horse was the concern. His boots carried him down the aisle and before he realized it he was at Rori’s side, doing his best not to notice the light spray of freckles on her nose as he took the lead rope from her. As careful as he was, his fingers brushed hers. Her skin was warm and satin-soft, and a shoot of tenderness took root in his chest.

“You can go on up to the house now.” His voice sounded scratchy and thick with feelings best left un-examined. “Thanks for your help.”

“Any time.” She stepped away, shy and graceful as always, as if nothing significant had happened between them. Of course she hadn’t reacted to his accidental touch. Why would she? She backed down the aisle, glancing between him and his dad. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be back with some coffee.”

“Bless you.” Frank tipped his hat to her. “I could use some chow, too.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” She ran her hand gently along Wildflower’s swollen side. “It’s going to be okay, girl.”

Don’t start liking her again, Justin told himself. He’d always been a sucker for a woman who was kind to animals. That’s what had gotten him noticing her in high school in the first place. A few years ago, that’s why he’d decided to trust Tia.

“Same old Rori.” Frank ambled close and rubbed the mare’s neck. “Good to see that it’s true.”

“What’s true?” He turned his shoulder, afraid that his dad had noticed something Justin wasn’t ready to admit to himself.

“You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.” Frank smiled as he spoke, as if he was greatly amused. “Why, what did you think I was going to say?”

“Let’s just help the mare.” His face heated. He didn’t like that his dad had figured things out. Just because he liked Rori didn’t mean a thing. Probably he always would like her. She was a nice woman. “Think we can wait for the vet?”

“Get Wildflower in the stall, and I’ll scrub up.” Frank gave the horse another caring pat, for the mare had nickered at the sound of her name. “It won’t be much longer now, sweetheart. You go with Justin.”

“Dad, you know nothing is going to happen between Rori and me, don’t you?” He gently eased the mare toward the birthing stall.

“Is that what you think?” A barrel laugh rang out as he disappeared into the washroom.

“Isn’t that why you have been trying to push me and Rori together?” Fresh hay crinkled beneath his boots and Wildflower’s hooves.

“I figured the two of you ought to resolve things. It’s not good to leave loose ends the way you have with that gal.” Water rushed, pouring into a stainless-steel sink. “Don’t you reckon it’s time you forgave her?”

“For running out on me?”

“For doing what she had to do. For following the path the Good Lord set her on.” The water cut off, and Frank ambled into sight, drying his hands and forearms on a fluffy blue towel. He tossed it over the top of an empty stall gate. “You’re not so good at forgiveness, son.”

“I don’t want to be you. No offense.” Wildflower lowered her head, heaving, her knees buckling.

“Let’s get her on her side.” Frank jumped to help. He had worked with animals all of his life, and it showed in the skill and comfort his touch seemed to bring Wildflower. The mare leaned her neck into his hands.

One day he wanted to be as good a man as his dad. The trouble was, he didn’t want to be as gullible. Their mom had left Dad twice. Both times Dad had wrestled with a shattered heart, later accepted her apologies and let her back into their lives. Then he’d taken care of her when liver disease set in.

No one in their right mind would ever call Frank Granger a fool, but he did have a big heart. Too big.

That was something Justin would make sure he would never have. No way did he intend to let any woman tread on his dignity like Dad had allowed Mom to. At the time, Dad had young kids who missed their mom and wanted her back, too, but a man could only take so much. Justin had already reached that limit.

“Sounds like Nate’s here.” Frank stopped to listen. “Yep, tires in the gravel. Help has arrived.”

Justin ran his hand down the mare’s nose, murmuring low to comfort her, and forced his thoughts away from Rori.

But it didn’t work.

“Need a hand?” Autumn swaggered through the mudroom and popped her head into the kitchen.

“No, I’m managing just fine.” Rori slapped the last omelet onto the last plate and turned off the burner. “How is Wildflower?”

“A brand-new mama.” There was a thunk, thunk, presumably Autumn kicking off her boots before she strode into the room with two large thermoses. “She made it through just fine once they got things heading out straight. She has the cutest little filly. All long legs, bottlebrush mane and the biggest brown eyes. Cheyenne is going to flip when she gets home.”

“Glad there’s good news. I could tell your dad was worried. He was totally frowning. I didn’t know he was capable of it.” She rescued the platter of bacon and sausage patties from the warm oven and walked down the counter, filling plates. “I’ll get you all some more coffee and tea in a jiffy. I was going to bring breakfast out to the barn.”

“Sounds like a good idea. Dad was up half the night checking on the mare as it is, and you know Justin, grumbling about being behind with the morning chores.” Autumn set the thermoses on the counter and rolled her eyes. Her light auburn hair tumbled loose around her shoulders. At first glance, no one would peg her as a tomboy, not with her china-doll complexion, deep hazel eyes and leggy stature, but Rori knew no one could outride her. She’d tried many times. “How is Bella?”

“Still the best horse in the history of the world.” Autumn uncapped the thermoses. “I had to stop and say hi to Copper. He’s looking good for his age. Your grandfather is pampering him.”

“Gramps can’t help himself. Once a horse lover, always a horse lover.”

“That’s the truth. It’s the way God made us.” Autumn yanked the coffee carafe from the machine and upended it over a thermos. “It has to be weird being back. You’ve been away for so long.”

“I hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed this pokey little town. Not one thing happens there.” She did her best not to remember the past and the impatient girl she’d been. And how eager to experience something more exciting than dinky Wild Horse, Wyoming. “It used to drive me crazy, but I’m thankful for it now. It’s reassuring when home always stays the same.”

“Speaking of things that haven’t changed. Clem’s—now The Greasy Spoon—still makes the best burgers around.” Autumn screwed the cap on the thermos and reached for the hot-water carafe. “Have any plans, say, middle of the week?”

“Are you thinking horse ride?”

“Just like old times.” There was a quiet question hanging in the air between them, but Autumn didn’t ask it. Instead she finished pouring the water. “I’ll run this outside. Need me to take anything?”

“How about the muffins?” The sausage platter was empty and she set it aside to snatch the cloth-covered basket from the edge of the kitchen table.

“Yum. Smells good.” Autumn hugged the thermoses and took the basket into the crook of her arm. “Hate to rain on your parade, but guess who’s listening at the door?”

“I’m not listening,” a man grumbled from the mudroom. “I’m getting some clean towels for the barn.”

Justin. Rori’s palms went damp, and she wiped them on her jeans. Great. Why hadn’t she noticed he was there? How much had he overheard?

“Yeah, right.” Autumn chuckled as she strolled out the door. “You could have asked me to bring back the towels.”

“Didn’t think of it.” Justin sounded easygoing as he spoke with his sister. “Did anyone think to call Cheyenne?”

“I’ll do it,” Autumn called out a split second before the screen door slapped shut.

Rori set the plates on a tray she’d found in one of the bottom cupboards and covered the steaming food. With every movement she made, she was infinitely aware of Justin in the next room, the faint shuffle of his boots on the tile floor, the muted squeak of a cabinet door closing and the rustle of fabric as he paced to the kitchen door.

“Need any help?” Hard to tell if he was being friendly or just helpful, as he might be to any hired hand.

“Nope, but thanks. I’ve got it.”

“You could make us trudge into the kitchen to eat, you know. You don’t have to bring food to us.”

“I don’t mind. You’ve all had a busy morning and it’s not even six o’clock.” She opened the drawer and began counting out flatware. This is just conversation, she told herself. Justin had meant what he said about letting bygones be. He was making an effort, and it mattered. She could, too. “Since you’re standing there with a free hand, you could grab the juice on the counter.”

“Good. I like to make myself useful.” A faint hint of his dimples carved into either side of his mouth. He ambled into the kitchen, shrinking the room with his size and presence. He casually scooped up the pitcher and the stacked plastic glasses without complaint. “You need to come see the new filly.”

“Autumn said she was the cutest thing.”

“Foals usually are.” He held the door for her, and somehow the morning seemed brighter as they headed down the steps and along the path together. “You were calm under pressure, Rori. You helped a lot.”

“I did nothing. I called the vet. I walked the horse.” She shrugged. “Anyone could have done the same.”

“Not anyone. I was afraid you had turned into a city slicker, but I can see you’ve still got some Wyoming girl in you. I’m glad you’re working here. It’s a big responsibility running this place, and it will be a burden off Dad’s mind to know he’s got someone in the house he can rely on. Someone to feed us and the hired men when we get hungry.”

“I’m glad you think I’m a help.” She held the tray steady, flatware and dishes clattering with each step, and squinted against the low slant of the morning sun. She’d forgotten her ball cap. Grass slapped against her shins, crunched beneath her shoes and barely hid a jackrabbit who startled away into the field as they approached.

“Rori.” Frank hurried out of the barn to take the heavy tray from her and shot his son a telling glance. “That’s too heavy for you to carry all this way.”

“No problem. I’m stronger than I look.”

“Oh, the problem wasn’t with you. I thought I raised my son better than that.”

“I offered, but she turned me down.” Justin put the pitcher and cups down on top of a barrel.

“I did. I wouldn’t have given up the tray if he’d tried to wrestle it away from me.” She followed Mr. Granger and the tray to a walled-off room next to the tack room, where a sink and counter, microwave and small refrigerator sat as neat and as clean as any kitchen. A small battered dinette set huddled in the center of the area. Frank slid the tray onto the faded pink Formica top and the rest of the Grangers plus the vet descended on the table.

“Want to come see her?” Justin’s voice rang low, but even with the clang of dishes, rise of voices and cheerful conversation it was the only thing she heard.

“I’d love to.” She floated after him, excitement tingling through her. It had been ages since she’d seen a newborn foal. She loped down the aisle, the stalls empty this time of year, and felt the fingers of the past trying to grab hold of her. She was at home with the warm scent of horseflesh and grain in the air and the concrete beneath her feet. Maybe she’d never realized how much she loved country life.

“Hey, there, Wildflower.” Tender-toned, Justin knelt down at the stall bars. “We just want to get a good look at your baby.”

“Your beautiful baby,” Rori corrected, wrapping her hand around the rail and kneeling beside him. Wildflower nickered low in her throat, a proud mama who turned to lick at her little filly’s dainty ear.

Nothing could be sweeter than the little gold-and-white bundle curled up in the soft clean hay. The newborn stared at them with a surprised expression, as if she didn’t know what to think about the strange faces staring in at her. She blinked her long eyelashes and stretched toward them as far as her neck would allow.

“That’s a pretty girl,” Justin soothed, holding out his hand, palm up, his motions slow.

The filly gave his fingers a swipe with her tongue and drew back, as if her own boldness startled her. Wildflower nickered gently to her baby and, as if encouraged, the little one’s head bobbed down as she scrambled to get up on her spindly legs and point them in the correct direction.

Sunshine tumbled through the open top half of the stall door, gleaming on the mare and foal’s velvet coats. Wildflower rubbed her chin on her daughter’s shoulder, a congratulatory pat, and nickered proudly. The tiny filly wobbled on her thin, impossibly long legs and flicked her bob of a tail joyfully. She took a few proud steps. Her front knees gave out and she landed in the soft hay.

“Poor baby.” Rori reached through the rails instinctively, making sure the newborn was all right. The foal looked up at her with big, wondrous eyes, and Rori felt her chest catch. Hard not to fall in love with the wee one. She couldn’t help brushing her fingers across the soft velvet nose. “You will get the hang of it. I promise. Keep at it.”

The foal’s eyes drifted shut, as if she liked the gentle stroke.

“You still have a way with animals.” Justin’s low voice moved her like the brush of the summer air and the peace of the morning. Familiar, and it was what she’d missed over the years.

“I do all right.” She didn’t have a gift, just love for creatures large and small. “Not the way you do.”

“I got it all from my dad.” No way to hide the affection in his voice. “I learned a lot growing up at his knee. One day, I might be good enough to take over the place when he retires.”

“Word is that he’s cutting back, handing over a lot of the responsibilities of the ranch to you and Autumn.”

“Your gramps was talking about me, huh?” He paused as the filly opened her eyes, set her chin with determination and positioned her front hooves for another go at walking. “Dad wants to retire, but truth is, he loves the work. It’s not like he has anything else to do. He’s single, and he’s done raising all of us.”

“It’s good that you’re close. You must spend a lot of time with him.”

“A perk of the job.” He’d sacrificed a lot for his dad and for this ranch that had been in his family for five generations. “It’s what I like most about ranching. Long hours in the saddle talking with my dad.”

“I can’t picture you doing anything else but ranching.” She gazed up at him with those big blue eyes.

He felt the impact like a touch to his cheek. Her gaze raked him, as if she were trying to see past the titanium barrier he’d put up.

“You still love the work,” she stated, not questioning. That’s how well she knew him.

“Truth is, I would have liked a lot of things, but this is what I chose.” He paused as the filly pulled herself up and swayed, but what he was seeing was Rori. The changes in her—more mature and seasoned and longing for something he couldn’t name. “Truth is, after you left town I couldn’t take it. I missed you so much.”

“You missed me? But you said—”

“That I wouldn’t even notice if you were gone?” he repeated his horrible words, angry at himself for saying what could never be taken back. She didn’t even understand what she’d been to him. “No one knew I applied to college and got in. A late admission for the winter quarter in agriculture sciences at Washington State University.”

“Where I was.” Her hand covered his, warm and comforting, a connection he did not break.

“I was all set to accept when Dad took a bullet. Rustlers. They got away with about a thousand head of cattle. I was too busy trying to save my father to stop them.”

“I’d heard he was hit. I remember Gram and Gramps talking about it. I called several times, but no one was home. I didn’t feel right about leaving a message. When I heard he was all right, I didn’t call again.”

“It was touch and go for a while there. We almost lost him. I ended up staying and pulling my weight around here, so Dad could recover. The bullet nicked his heart, so there was no question. He had to take it easy to heal right.”

“You’re a good son to him, Justin. A good man.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” He grinned, fighting the moment, because the way she peered up at him made him feel ten feet tall, the way he used to feel when she loved him.

Careful, knowing he needed to put the brakes on his thoughts, he extricated his hand from hers a little too quick and rough. Her face fell as if he’d slapped her, but he couldn’t help it. The tenderness that had taken root in his chest ached, tenderness he had no right to feel, and he’d better figure out a way to pluck it right out. It would not be wise to have gentle feelings for Rori. When summer ended, she would be out of here. Wild Horse, Wyoming, was too small for her—that hadn’t changed.

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