A place to heal

That’s all Brooke McKaslin yearns for. She’s returned to Montana on family business, hoping to leave her past behind. And to shield the secret she carries. She’s not planning on staying long—until she begins working for reporter Liam Knightly. Liam is handsome, good-hearted—and as leery of relationships as Brooke is. Even as they realize how much they have in common, Brooke fears a threat to their growing love. Will her secret stand in the way of their happiness?

“Maybe I inherited the bad-marriage gene,” Liam said.

“I know the feeling.”

“That’s why you’re still single?”

“One reason.” The truth sat on the tip of Brooke’s tongue, ready to be told. What was it about Liam that made her weaken her guard? She’d nearly opened up to him. She shook her head. No way did she know him enough to trust him. “It’s my opinion that men cause destruction and ruin where ever they go.”

“Funny, that’s my opinion about women.” His slow grin made her heart skip a beat.

Good thing her heart wasn’t in charge. She was. And she wasn’t going to let his stunning smile weaken her defenses any further.

“I know that’s not fair.” Liam winked. “But that’s how it feels.”

So hard to ignore that wink. She let it bounce off her, unaffected. She’d gotten as close to him as she was going to.

Best to remember she worked for him, she was leaving as soon as the trial was over and the last thing she wanted was a man to complicate things.

JILLIAN HART

grew up on her family’s homestead, where she helped raise 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.

Montana Homecoming
Jillian Hart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Trust in the Lord with all your heart.

—Proverbs 3:5

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

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

As Brooke McKaslin stepped foot outside onto the porch, a full moon peered over the stand of tall evergreens bordering the neighborhood. A touch of a chill hovered in the May evening. She slipped onto the top step and drew the edges of her cardigan sweater closed, remembering too late she was missing a button.

Night settled in a peaceful way. Somewhere a frog croaked from the ditch on the other side of the trees. Two or three streets over a car engine, in obvious need of a muffler, roared to life. Other than that, the neighborhood remained quiet. Golden light on curtained windows shone from nearby trailers where folks were cozy. She shifted on the step, as restless as she always felt when she came to Bozeman to visit.

It didn’t help that her life was in turmoil. She’d just lost her job in Seattle because of cutbacks, leaving her financially strapped. Her stomach knotted at the inadequate amount in her savings account. Best not to think about that now. She’d come to Montana to lend her support to the family rallying around her younger sister, Brianna. Last year Bree had been critically injured in a violent robbery. A terrible time.

God had been gracious—Bree had survived and recovered fully. Now she would be a key witness for the prosecution in the upcoming trial. No one should go through that experience without family. Brooke’s personal problems? They paled in comparison.

She breathed in the scent of lilacs from the bushes next door, drawing in the sweet, cool air. It felt good to have a moment to herself. She loved her family, but they wanted her to move to Montana permanently; they wanted her to put aside her past and be the girl they once knew.

Truth was? She did, too. The faint drone of the TV mumbled through the walls. She’d left her half sister, Colbie, and Colbie’s mom, Lil, calling out questions to Alex Trebek’s answers. No doubt they were still at it. She smiled, wishing she could have a regular life. That she could be that girl her family remembered, the one who believed in the good in people, the girl who had always known freedom.

Overhead stars glimmered like dreams far out of reach. She wondered how far away heaven was through the vast mystery of space. Did God see her sitting here worrying about her sister? She hoped He had heard her prayers.

Something crackled in the fenced yard next door. Twigs snapped. Bushes rustled. A bear tromping through underbrush couldn’t make that much noise. Curious, she craned her neck to see if it was man or beast, but she couldn’t see a thing. Just the tall fence and blooming lilacs.

“Oscar! Come back here,” a man called. “Bad dog!”

His words held no sting but a hint of laughter as something scrabbled against the wooden fence. Paws appeared over the top followed by a snout and two short, floppy ears. A dog carrying something bulky in his mouth popped over the top rail and launched into the air.

“Oscar!” A dark head of hair bobbed on the other side of the fence boards. “Don’t you dare run off!”

Brooke was on her feet before the dog’s four paws hit the lawn. There was no other fence to slow down the escapee, not that a six-foot one had seemed to stop him. Although this neighborhood was quiet, a major road sat on the other side of the trees. That had to be hazardous for a dog on the loose.

“Here, boy.” She held out one hand, running to intercept him. “Good, Oscar.”

The yellow Lab spotted her, clutching something in his mouth. His surprised eyes glinted in the glow from the streetlight as he skidded to a halt in front of her. In a bid to change directions, his hind legs churned up grass and he bolted off down the middle of the road.

“Oscar!” A man landed with a two-footed thud in the flowerbed next to her. “Wow! That was close. I’m impressed. You almost had him.”

“Almost doesn’t keep him safe.” She glanced over her shoulder at the trailer behind her, the door firmly closed. They were definitely alone. Shyness gripped her. “He went that way.”

“Thanks.” The man flashed a smile, glowing white in the deepening shadows. He dashed away, a tall, muscled athlete with brown hair and battered sneakers. That was all she noticed before he was lost in the darkness, his footsteps echoing.

Should she have run after the dog, too? She stared down at her combat boots. Not exactly running shoes. She wasn’t athletic, either, at least not these days. Once she’d run cross-country and loved it, but then she’d loved a lot of things in life before they had been taken away. Before she had lost everything.

How could she help Oscar? The dog obviously didn’t fear roads or cars. She bowed her head where she stood, clasped her hands and reached out in prayer. Father, please let Oscar’s owner catch him before any harm can come to him. Let there be a happy ending.

When she opened her eyes and raised her head, she was sure the stars twinkled more brightly.

Did she hear the faint beat of paws against pavement? She tilted her head, straining her ears. Yes, thumping paws and heavy breathing were definitely coming her way. Oscar raced down the street toward her, galloping as hard as his four paws could carry him. His jaws stilled, stretched around something bulky clamped between his teeth.

“Oscar!” She took off, her boots clomping, but no way could she catch him. “Hot dogs! Cookies! Pizza!”

Words the dog knew. The Lab skidded to a stop, eyes wildly searching for what were any canine’s favorite foods. She neatly wrapped her fingers around his collar. “Good boy, Oscar.”

What looked and smelled like a baked ham dropped to the pavement as he hopped in place. Her arm jerked with his movements and her biceps burned trying to hold him. His teeth glistened in the half-light and excitement sizzled in his big brown eyes as if to say, “Oh, boy! Where’s the pizza?”

“Good tactic.” The dog owner’s pleasant tenor rumbled close and his hand clasped the collar next to hers. “I’ll have to remember that next time. Thanks for pitching in.”

“Sure. I didn’t want something bad to happen to him.” Shyness seized her again. It was impossible not to notice the stranger’s impressive height and the strong plane of his chest an inch from her shoulder, so she stumbled back a few steps where it felt safer and easier to breathe.

“Something bad is going to happen when my grandmother gets a hold of him.” Amusement, not anger, laced his words. “He’s going to be banned from the kitchen for months. Maybe forever.”

“That’s not surprising.” She watched the stranger clip a leash to the collar and pat the dog’s head. The Lab, obviously unconcerned with his disobedient ways, panted in appreciation, tongue lolling, before snatching his prize from the ground.

“I can’t believe him.” The tall guy shook his head. “He’s not even sorry.”

“Doesn’t look like it since he’s now eating the ham.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, battling shyness. She was way out of practice when it came to guys. She’d worked in a women’s halfway house for the past year. After what she’d been through, it seemed a good fit.

Men? They hadn’t even been on her radar, not since her last boyfriend ruined her life nine long years ago. But something about this man drew her. Maybe it was his kindness as he gently wrestled the chunk of meat from the dog’s mouth using not a single harsh or impatient word.

Definitely a nice guy. The faint glow from the streetlight gave an impression of high cheekbones, a straight nose and an unyielding line of a square jaw. He was gorgeous. Really gorgeous. That made her uncomfortable, too.

The neighbor’s porch light came on and Mrs. Jones threw open her screen door.

“Did you catch that dog?” the elderly lady called out. “What about my ham?”

“I don’t think you want it back, Gram.” He held up the slobbery, half-eaten chunk. “It’s a lost cause.”

“I knew as much but I had to hold out hope.” Mrs. Jones shook her head, clearly disapproving. “That was a good ham. I planned for the leftovers to last all week.”

“I’ll replace it.”

“I told you that dog was more trouble than he was worth.” A good-natured tone went along with those words. “You should take him back to that shelter. Make them return your money.”

“Someone had to save him.”

“It didn’t have to be you.” The door banged closed.

“Yes, it did.” The handsome man trained his attention back to Brooke. “I decided my life was too boring so I visited the pound and took on a new adventure.”

“It’s good to see you’re getting plenty of that. And exercise, fresh air and a larger grocery bill.” She willed her feet to move but they didn’t. They remained stuck firmly to the ground and she had to wonder why.

Maybe it was simple curiosity. She wanted to see his smile in full light. The streetlamp overhead tried to illuminate him, casting a glow over his substantial height and broad shoulders and adding highlights to his brown hair. But his smile? It remained elusive in the shadows.

Why on earth was she wondering about some man? It was a total mystery.

“This is proof. You really have to beware what you pray for,” he quipped, tucking the slobbery, half-devoured remains of the ham beneath his arm like a football. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’ve only had Oscar two days. We’re still getting to know each other and I’m finally figuring out the dog can’t be trained.”

“Sure he can.” Brooke went down on both knees. As a farm girl, she was an animal lover from way back. “I’ve trained more than a few dogs in my day, so I know a great dog when I see one. You are it, Oscar.”

At the sound of his name, the Lab leaped at her, licked her chin and danced in place. Probably remembering her earlier promises of cookies, hot dogs and pizza. “There’s nothing wrong with his memory. I wish I had a cookie on me.”

Both dog ears perked up. Brown eyes sparkled merrily as if to say, “Cookie? Where?”

“Oops, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.” She didn’t have to search her pockets to know there wasn’t anything she could offer in its place.

“It’s okay. I have dog biscuits in my truck. C’mon, troublemaker.” A few paces brought him to a big blue pickup sidled up close to Mrs. Jones’s fence. The Lab’s tail whipped back and forth as he bounded behind his owner. The truck door whispered open and after a little digging a bone-shaped treat appeared. The Lab lunged, clamped his teeth around the treat and crunched happily, crumbs raining from his mouth. His owner faced her. “You must be one of Colbie’s sisters. You look a lot like her.”

“I’m Brooke. I’m technically her older half sister.”

“I’m Liam. I haven’t seen you around before. I would have noticed.”

She blushed. Had he just paid her a compliment? “Oh, I’m largely forgettable.”

“I doubt that. Do you live around here?”

“Just visiting.” She took a step backward, afraid her tongue would tangle any minute. A smart girl would escape while she could. When he gazed at her with piercing blue intensity, she felt smaller, aware of the past that haunted her. The past that would always stand between her and a normal life. She lost who she’d been and she didn’t know how to get that woman back. “How about you, Liam? Do you visit your grandmother often?”

“Whenever she can tempt me with good cooking.” He had eyes the color of the sky at first light. The truest shade of blue she had ever seen. Dimples bracketed what was a picture-perfect smile. “How long will you be staying in town?”

“A couple of weeks, then it’s back to Seattle.”

His gaze brushed over her and her heart skipped a beat. The synapses in her brain ceased firing. Her feet lost contact with the pavement beneath her. Strange. Very strange.

“Oh, the trial. Of course.” He snapped his free hand, the one not holding on tightly to the Lab’s leash. The dog leaped up and down and pulled at his tether, scenting the air. “Oscar’s looking for the ham. He’s incorrigible.”

“You’re going to keep him, aren’t you?” She inched close enough to stroke her fingers across the animal’s soft head. She thought of the shelter, of caged doors and windowless walls, and shivered. She thought of no hope, no escape, no freedom. “You’re not going to take him back to the pound?”

“No way. Gram was just joking. I hope.” He patted his dog on the back. “Oscar’s just a little excited, and I’m not exactly sure, but I don’t think he’s ever been left alone with a ham before. He lost his head and grabbed it before I could stop him. Next time he’ll know better.”

“Or run faster.”

“A possibility.” He chuckled. “Oscar catches on pretty quick. He likes you.”

“Something tells me he likes everybody.” A lock of dark hair tumbled across her face like a curtain, but it couldn’t mask her beauty. She had a delicate heart-shaped face, deep violet-blue eyes and fragile features. She was petite, lost in the size-too-large sweater and jeans she wore. Brooke McKaslin reminded him of a spring dawn, so still a man might miss it entirely unless he really took the time to look.

When he did, nothing before had ever seemed as beautiful.

Funny he would take notice of her like this. The humiliation of his recent broken engagement normally kept him far away from most women. It was just plain crazy talking to this gorgeous woman. His shattered heart and crushed pride hadn’t recovered from the last one. He’d been down that road, thanks. Not interested in going there again.

So why was he riveted by her? His heart rattled against his rib cage as he searched for an explanation and came up with nothing. A light flashed on and a screen door rasped open. Colbie McKaslin stood in the doorway, a worried frown on her face. The sisters did look remarkably similar, with sleek dark hair and delicate faces, but he would never confuse the two. There was something innately amazing about Brooke, something that drew him whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Oh, there you are!” Colbie called across the front yard. “Jeopardy’s over and I’m making cocoa. I thought you might want a cup, but I can see you’re busy. Hi, Liam. Is that a dog?”

“It is.” He took a few steps toward his truck, eager to go. “It’s a long story.”

“Didn’t mean to interrupt. Sorry!” Colbie waved before she disappeared behind the closing screen door. Apparently she worried she’d interrupted a moment, but there wasn’t one.

Not that he wasn’t grateful to the lady for catching his dog.

“Oscar, you be a good boy.” Brooke slipped away, nothing more than a faint outline in the shadows of the lawn. “Don’t run from your master again.”

At the sound of his name, the dog wagged his tail and hopped up and down, eager to race up to the pretty lady and follow her inside. She disappeared behind the screen door with nothing more than a final wave. The Lab whined, tipping his head side to side, not understanding why she had abandoned them.

“It’s just you and me, buddy.” He opened the back door for the dog to jump up. “Come on, get in. Don’t worry. Maybe our paths will cross hers again.”

Thinking of tomorrow’s trial, he had a feeling they might.

* * *

“So, you met Liam.” Colbie closed the marshmallow bag with a rustle. “Isn’t he a total wow?”

“I guess.” Noncommittal, that was the best way to go. No doubt Colbie’s well-meaning radar had ramped up to high. The last thing she wanted to do was to spend the rest of the evening discussing a man, especially when she was firmly, devotedly single.

“You guess?” Colbie’s brows arched and she shook her head in disapproval. “I can’t believe we’re related. You can’t tell me you don’t notice gorgeous men when they happen to cross your path.”

Brooke followed the aroma of steaming milk and dissolving cocoa powder into the kitchen, where three large mugs stood on the counter, topped with melting marshmallows. “I’m not looking for a man, gorgeous or otherwise. Are you?”

“Not especially. I’m thinking solely of you. You have to leave your possibilities open, sister dear.” Colbie stuffed the bag into a pantry shelf, dark hair swinging. “You never know when true love will walk in and change your life.”

“Or mess it up.” She hid her smile as she chose a mug and turned on her heel. “It’s my opinion men cause wreck and ruin wherever they go.”

“Some men. I can’t argue that. But that’s no excuse to turn into a spinster.”

“A spinster? Isn’t that like something out of the eighteen hundreds? There are no spinsters these days. Honestly.” She strolled the short distance into the little living room and set the mug down on the end table within easy reach for Lil. “There’s nothing wrong with being a woman in control of her life. Right, Lil?”

“Sorry, I can’t help you, dear. I agree with Colbie.” The pretty woman looked up from her wheelchair, her spirit bright in spite of the hardships life had dealt her. “Yes, a man can cause all sorts of havoc, but it all comes down to the kind of man he truly is deep inside. Seeing that inner truth of a man takes a lot of time and investment. Good men are hard to find, but they’re out there. My prayer is that one of them finds you.”

“Thanks, Lil, but save your prayers for Colbie.” Brooke squeezed the hand of the sweet lady who was like a mother to her. “She needs them.”

“I wouldn’t mind a tall, dark, handsome hunk to stroll into my life.” Colbie swept in carrying both mugs and set them on the coffee table. “On the other hand, he might get in the way of time spent with my mom, so maybe I’m better off without him.”

“See my point?” Brooke dropped onto the couch and waited for her sister to plop down next to her. “Dudes change things. When it comes down to it, our lives are good. Who needs change?”

“My sentiments exactly.” Colbie picked up the remote control and handed it to her mother. “Mom, your turn to pick. What are we going to watch?”

“Oh, you know I love that travel race show.” Lil clicked a button and the screen flashed to a market scene in China. “I always meant to travel the world when I was you girls’ age. I had such plans.”

It wasn’t just the wheelchair that had put a crimp in the woman’s dreams. Sad, Brooke took a tentative sip of frothy cocoa, hot enough to nearly burn her tongue but good and sweet and comforting. She definitely needed the comfort. She knew what it was like to have life change suddenly and dreams evaporate. She blinked back images of a courtroom and the grim faces of a jury.

That dog had put a smile on her face tonight. She thought of Liam. He was so gorgeous. It was easy to picture him and Oscar trucking through the dark across town to wherever they lived. It would be easy to wish for a good man to love her. But that dream had been lost the moment the police had shown up at her door more than nine years ago. Life took you down paths you never imagined and all a person could do was deal with it. This was her dealing.

If her heart gave a little sigh over Liam she ignored it, counted her blessings and let the reality show carry her away.

Chapter Two

Liam headed down the sidewalk into the bright morning sun, feeling guilty at leaving his new dog home alone for the first time. He couldn’t get the sound of Oscar’s howl out of his head. Trying not to imagine how the poor dog was feeling, he focused on his work. The courthouse looming up ahead helped to remind him of his responsibilities.

He had to stop worrying. Oscar would be all right. He was safe in the house. Come five o’clock, Liam would walk back through that door and the dog would see he hadn’t been abandoned. All would be well. Right?

Right.

“Oh, dear. Oops.” A woman’s good-natured trill caught his attention. He rounded the corner to see Lil in her wheelchair with her back to him, gazing down at her purse on the sidewalk.

“Hi, beautiful.” He knelt to swoop up her leather bag. “Don’t you look fetching? You are going to turn heads in court today.”

“Liam, you are a charmer.” Lil accepted her handbag with a nod of thanks. “What good timing. Brooke, Colbie, look who I found walking the street.”

“That makes me sound iffy. Like I’m up to no good.”

“Oh, I suspect you are up to something very good.” Lil’s eyes twinkled merrily. “I hear you got yourself a dog.”

“Guilty. It seemed like a good idea at the time. What can I say?” His few working brain cells decided to fail the moment Brooke circled around the back of the SUV and into sight. He opened his mouth intending to say something about Oscar but he forgot what.

Soft golden sunlight tumbled over her like a promise, glinting in sleek mahogany hair and caressing the curve of her delicately cut face.

Don’t look, he instructed his brain, but his neurons didn’t obey. Neither did his eyes, which could not stop taking her in. At first glance she seemed fragile, fine-boned, as if a brisk wind could carry her away. But when she leveled him with her hyacinth-blue gaze, an inner strength shone through, impressive and distinctive.

Wow. She’d been beautiful in the starlight, but in the full day words failed him. Stunned, frozen, his jaw slack—did he look like a dolt?

Good thing he wasn’t interested. Nope, not one bit. Her beauty bounced off him like rain on a roof. He remained unaffected.

“I hardly recognize you without your dog.” Brooke didn’t meet his gaze. “How is Oscar?”

“After making good on all your cookie promises, I sent him straight to bed with a new rawhide bone.” He seized the grips of Lil’s wheelchair, deciding to be useful.

“I’m glad to see you’re handling him properly.” She hiked the strap of her leather bag higher on her slim shoulder. She wore dress slacks and a solemn blouse and sweater, adding to her seriousness. What did he like about her most?

That was easy. She clearly gave him a “not interested” vibe. Not one thing about her hinted she might be open to further conversation with him. Not with the way she turned away, keeping her back to him.

This was a woman he could like. They were on the same wavelength.

“Come along, Lil.” She ambled ahead, her tone softening with affection as she addressed the older woman. “Let’s get you settled before the courtroom gets too busy.”

“That would be easiest,” Lil agreed cheerfully, tipping her head back to look up at him. A knowing grin made her sparkle. Multiple sclerosis might have put her in a wheelchair, but it hadn’t slowed her down. “Do you know what you need, Liam?”

“I’m afraid to answer that question.” He wasn’t the dimmest bulb in the pack and he figured Brooke wasn’t, either. The tap-tap of her heels could only be an attempt to escape Lil. Not that he blamed her. He gave the wheelchair a good shove to get it going. “What do I need? Maybe a haircut? A new attitude? A—”

“A dog trainer.” Lil smiled as Brooke held the heavy courthouse door.

A dog trainer? He didn’t see where she was going with this. A tiny zing at the back of his mind told him to be wary—there was something familiar but he couldn’t place it. Mainly because all he could see was Brooke in full sunlight. Her ivory complexion, her chiseled, fine-boned features and her full, rosebud mouth. Why couldn’t he look away?

“Don’t do it, Lil.” Brooke rolled her eyes as a breeze of wind rustled the ends of her dark hair. “Don’t condemn me to that.”

“To what?” Then it hit him. He remembered her gentle touch, how the Lab had taken to her, that she had been the one to catch the runaway. So, the pieces were all starting to fit. He guided the wheelchair into the busy lobby.

“You need help with that dog, young man.” Lil glimmered like a rare gem. “Brooke, you’ve trained how many dogs?”

“Not many,” Brooke hedged as she fell in line behind him at the security checkpoint. “Hardly any at all.”

“She’s modest.” Lil’s words held a mother’s love. “She grew up on a farm outside Miles City. She’s been around animals all her life. 4-H, all the good stuff. She won more blue ribbons than a body can count for her animals at the county and state fairs. She trained all the family’s herding dogs. I think she would be able to handle one mischievous yellow Lab.”

“Please, Lil. Stop.” She rolled her eyes. “That was a long time ago. I’m sure if Liam wants to find a dog trainer, then he’s more than capable of finding one on his own.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” His stunning blue eyes met hers and held, full of trouble and a glint of quiet humor. He did not look like a man upset by Lil’s meddling. The woman was clearly trying to match her up with Mr. Handsome. “I do have a dog in need of training. I don’t know where to start. Some folks would hire a trainer in this exact situation.”

“There are plenty of good obedience schools in the area, I’m sure.”

“But Brooke, honey, I thought you could use the work.” Lil’s caring was hard to turn down.

“Oh.” She felt foolish. Lil had been trying to help with her precarious financial position.

“Look, there’s Colbie.” Pleased, Lil clasped her hands together. “Did you find a parking spot close in, dear?”

“Would I be out of breath if I had?” Colbie laughed raggedly as she broke away from security. She seemed to bring the sunshine with her. “Liam, thanks for piloting Lil, but I’ll take over.”

“I don’t know. You know I’m sweet on Lil. I might have to keep her.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to fight me for her.” With a wink, Colbie wrapped her hands around the grips and gave the wheelchair a practiced shove toward courtroom five. “Are you ready, copilot?”

“I’m ready, captain.” Lil’s amusement lingered after she and Colbie headed down the busy corridor.

Leaving her and Liam alone.

Maybe she hadn’t been completely wrong about Lil’s motives. She squinted at the man beside her. Tall, thick dark hair, granite face, rugged features, handsome enough to give most women in a five-mile radius butterflies.

Not her, but most women.

“Looks like they don’t need a navigator.” What was she going to do about Liam? And what exactly were the chances of running into him two days in a row? “What you are doing at the courthouse? Wait, don’t tell me. You’re here for a trial.”

“You mean a trial of my own?”

“Sure. You don’t strike me as a thief, but I’ve learned you can’t judge a book by its cover.” She tried to keep her tone light, easygoing, just making conversation as she walked down the corridor. But the truth? She felt the pain of her past and the walls closing in. The courthouse brought back too many memories. “You never know what’s inside.”

“Funny. With me, what you see is what you get.” He winked at her, shortening his gait to match hers. “Well, most of the time. I don’t have secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets.” Secrets. Her secrets whispered until the past was all she could see. “You’re being evasive.”

“Me? I’m not the evasive sort.” That grin of his could make a girl’s neurons fail completely.

Fortunately not hers. She was immune to a man’s charm, thanks to her last boyfriend, Darren. “Then why are you at the courthouse early on a Monday morning?”

“I’m not a thief and, no, I’m not a lawyer. Although if I’d chosen differently, I might have been one. Both of my parents are, they’re off in L.A., and that’s what they expected me to be. A summer volunteering in Ecuador changed that.”

“You volunteered?” She raised one eyebrow. This man with his magazine-cover polish, perfect black suit and patterned tie? With a briefcase clutched in one hand? “Wait, don’t tell me. Probation?”

“Funny.” His chuckle was as warm as she might have expected. “I volunteered as part of my church’s youth group. We stayed in a village that had no electricity or running water. We worked to put in a water system and irrigation for crops. I liked it so much I volunteered every summer until I was out of college. Because I had to work for a living, I decided to stick closer to home with my volunteer efforts.”

“I’m not impressed.” Fine, maybe a little. But she didn’t have to admit that out loud.

“Didn’t expect you to be.” Dimples played at the corners of his smile. “Let me guess. You’ve done a lot of volunteering, too. Animal shelters?”

“Yes. Good guess.” She hesitated, not knowing how to explain. She felt akin to those animals forgotten in cages. She’d lost so much of her life after Darren’s betrayal and her trial, and she’d lost herself, too. Helping in the city shelter gave her the chance to make a difference and to work with animals, something she’d always wanted to do with her life. “I put in a lot of time at the shelter close to where I lived. I was there so often, I knew every animal by name.”

“Busy? That on top of a job has to keep you hoppin’.”

His voice dipped low, interested.

“At times.” Uncomfortable, she shrugged. She didn’t try to explain. A man like him, so polished and confident, would never understand. What did he see when he looked at her? She gave her thrif-store sweater a tug. “I like to keep busy.”

“Busy is good,” he agreed.

She risked another sideways glance at him. Strong profile, thick dark hair, a straight nose, square-cut chin, a man who radiated a quiet integrity that anyone would believe in. But did she?

“Volunteering keeps me out of trouble.”

“Oh, sure. Me, too.”

“You volunteer still?”

“Guilty. I can’t help myself.”

They shared a smile. She could read in his eyes the truth, the same truth she couldn’t say aloud. There was true need in this world. She’d never been able to turn her back on it. Neither could he.

“See?” His smile deepened, making his dimples irresistible. “We’re more alike than you first thought. We stand on common ground.”

“Maybe a tile or two,” she quipped, feeling uneasy again because the lights in his blue irises shone genuinely, with no falseness.

Everyone hid things, she reminded herself before she could start to believe him. Everyone had places within them they kept secret. Buried disappointments, shortcomings, failures. She swallowed hard, looking at the yawning doors, fighting the trace of panic setting in.

She hadn’t been in a courthouse since her trial. This was a different place, but the sounds were the same. The buzz of conversation echoing in the corridor, the tap of her shoes on the cold white tile, the cavernous seriousness that wrapped around her like a tomb. Trying not to remember, she played with the hem of one sweater sleeve, seeing in her mind the judge’s bench, the witness box and the empty chairs for the jury. She blinked hard until the memory faded.

“Brooke McKaslin? Is that you?” An aggressive woman tore through the crowd. A brown, curly cap of hair, assessing eyes and a cat’s grin locked on her. “Tasha Brown with Action News. Tell me, how does it feel to step foot in this courtroom?”

A reporter. Shock rocked her back on her heels. She hadn’t prepared for this. She despised reporters, always digging up dirt and thriving on it. Why did someone have to unearth it now? It happened so long ago. The shame of the past struck her hard. She gasped, fisted her hands, lost sight of the doorway. Her vision blurred.

“No comment.” The words squeaked out of her, full of pain. But did the reporter stop?

No. The woman jabbed her handheld recorder closer. “Your family isn’t any stranger to courthouses. First your father—”

“Excuse me,” she interrupted, unable to see a way out. People surrounded her in every direction, closing in to get to the courtroom. Panic raced through her veins. She couldn’t breathe. There just wasn’t any air. And how could she escape? She was trapped by people everywhere.

A steady hand clasped around her elbow. Liam. Strong but gentle. The comfort of his touch reminded her she wasn’t alone.

Over the whir of panic she heard the resonate rumble of his voice, keeping the reporters at bay. He tugged her close to the wall and blocked her with his body.

“Thank you.” She drew in a ragged breath, feeling a little foolish. She definitely felt wrung out.

“No problem,” he answered kindly. “I—”

“There you are!” Colbie burst into sight like a fish swimming against the current, weaving around people filing into the chamber. Her violet eyes shone with caring. “Court is about to start. C’mon.”

Brooke felt her sister’s unspoken sympathy wrap around her like a hug. Colbie understood. Colbie who had so faithfully written letters all those years when Brooke had been away, cut off from life, behind barred doors and windowless walls.

Lord, help me to do this. She gathered all the strength she had. She could walk into that courtroom, sit beside her sisters and ignore the reporters. She was strong and tough. Not once would she remember being perched in her chair beside a defense attorney with her world in tatters. Colbie’s hand slipped around hers as Liam let go.

She turned to him at a loss, unsure what to say. He’d witnessed her panic attack, the remnants of which were still quaking through her. But did he ask questions? No. Kindness softened his deep eyes and made him amazing.

Just amazing.

With Colbie’s hand in hers, she set her chin, squared her shoulders and walked into the courtroom as if the past had no claim on her.

* * *

At times his fellow colleagues miffed him, and it burned through the morning session. Liam sat in the back where he could watch the entire courtroom, not that there was much going on other than opening arguments and preliminaries. He was on assignment, so he was interested in the case but he had a hard time concentrating. He could still hear Brooke’s gasp of pain at Tasha Brown’s question. Interrogating family members outside the courtroom. He clenched his jaw, hands fisting.

Fine, so he felt protective of Brooke. He would respond the same way toward anyone in a similar situation. And if a little voice in the back of his head wanted to argue, he simply ignored it.

She hadn’t glanced his way once all morning. He had a perfect view of her, seated with her family down front. They nestled together in an unbreakable circle around Brianna. Brooke’s sleek dark hair glinted in the lights, and he remembered the feel of her arm, fine-boned and soft beneath his hand. Asking her for a quote hadn’t even occurred to him. Why had Tasha done it?

The Backdoor Burglars had been big news a while back, before he’d moved back home. Thieves had preyed on restaurants when employees were cleaning up for the night. The robberies escalated until several people were killed and more were injured. He’d been out of the country, but his grandfather Ed Knightly had covered the series of crimes. A real tragedy.

He recognized Juanita’s family, a young woman killed in the robbery, her mother teary-eyed and trying to stay strong.

“Hey, Liam.” Roger, a fellow journalist, interrupted his thoughts. “Want to grab lunch?”

He blinked, realizing the session had adjourned for noon recess. He hadn’t even noticed it. Some reporter he was. He tucked his notes and laptop into his briefcase. “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got to buzz home and check on my dog.”

“You have a dog?” Roger’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “You?”

“Hey, what’s wrong with me?” He eased off the bench. “I’m a good dog owner.”

“Yeah, but you are gone a lot. Won’t that be a problem?”

“Why would it? Oscar used to spend his time locked in a cage, and now he has a whole house. Where’s the problem in that?”

He got ahead of the crowd streaming toward the doors, catching one quick glimpse of Brooke. She bent to speak to Lil, dark hair cascading over her shoulder, strain tightening the muscles along her delicate jaw line. The trial was obviously taking a toll on her. It was a lot for a family to go through.

“Hey, maybe there’s no problem. What do I know?” Roger kept pace with him as they broke out into the wide corridor. Noise and people streamed around them. “My mom had a dachshund, and that little wiener dog ate the entire house whenever she left him alone. That’s all I’m saying.”

“The only danger would be if Oscar ever learned how to open the fridge or the pantry doors.” He thought of the ham incident and grinned. That dog was sure livening things up. “See you in an hour.”

“Right. Good luck!”

“I don’t believe in luck.” God had led him to Oscar, God had put the wish for a dog into his heart and God would not abandon him now. Liam headed down the hall, glancing over his shoulder to steal another glimpse of Brooke. The crowd was too big—he couldn’t see her. He stumbled out the door and into the bright May sunshine, fighting the feeling he’d left something important behind.

His cell sang a cheerful note as he started his truck’s engine. One glance at the screen had him grinning. It was a text message from Colbie.

Mom told me about your need for a dog trainer. Brooke is great with dogs, she’d written. Call her, text her, just don’t hire anyone else. Promise?

I don’t need a trainer, he tapped out with his thumbs. His dog was unruly but overall just fine. And on the off chance Colbie was playing matchmaker, he didn’t need that, either. He knew how to hold his ground.

Famous last words, Colbie wrote. I’m sending Brooke’s cell # anyway.

The drive home was quick and uneventful. He lived in an older section of Bozeman where the neighborhoods were tree-lined and straight out of the 1940s with white picket fences, carefully manicured yards and Craftsman-style homes. He parked in front of the detached garage, hopped up the back steps and turned his key in the lock. The ringing bark of welcome put a spring in his step as he swung open the kitchen door.

A golden streak launched toward him, emitting a high-pitched whine of relief. Eighty pounds of Lab hit him in the chest, rocking him back on his feet. Paws settled on his shoulders, his knees gave way and he stumbled as the dog plastered canine kisses across his face.

“I’m glad to see you, too, buddy. Now, down.” Laughing, he grabbed two paws and lifted them off his suit jacket, wiped his face with his sleeve and pushed through the door.

That’s when he saw the kitchen. Disaster. Air squeaked out of his lungs in shock. He blinked, but the scene remained. Trash littered the tile, the garbage can overturned and empty. One ladder-back chair remained in place at the small nook table, but the other three sprawled on their backs in various places around the room. One was missing a leg.

“You ate part of a chair?” He jammed one hand through his hair, too stunned to do anything more than stare. Cushions had been torn off the chairs and were almost intact with white flashes of stuffing showing. One cupboard door hung askew.

“I can’t believe this.” He shook his head, stunned by the devastation. A mini tornado could not have left as much damage. “Oscar, how could you?”

The Lab whined and sat on his haunches. Doggy brows furrowed sorrowfully. Big chocolate-brown eyes beamed a message that seemed to say, “Forgive me. I was bad.”

“Oh, Oscar.” Liam rubbed the pounding tension settling in behind his left temple. How could he be mad at that face? He could only hope the rest of the house hadn’t suffered the same fate.

Chapter Three

“How are you holding up?” Her big brother Luke leaned in to ask, his voice so low it was difficult to hear him in the bustling sandwich shop.

“Fine.” All morning she’d endured sympathetic looks and comforting hugs and encouraging smiles from her family, but no one had said the words aloud. Pain clamped around her ribs. Her hands shook as she dug in her purse for a couple of twenties to help pay for the family meal.

“I’ve got it,” her oldest brother, Hunter, grumbled, standing in front of her in line. He fished a credit card from his wallet. “Put your money away, Brookie.”

“I should at least pay for my own sandwich.”

“Not going to happen.” Hunter was used to being in charge. As the oldest son, he’d borne the brunt of their father’s failures. Their youngest brother’s death had been the last straw. Hunter had grown harder through the years until it was almost impossible to remember the laughing, good-humored boy he’d been. They had been The Three Musketeers, she and Luke and Hunter roaming the hills and fields on their family’s land. Those long-ago happier times felt far away.

“You don’t look fine.” Luke’s voice turned gruff, another strong man uncomfortable showing his caring side. “You haven’t looked fine since you stepped foot inside the courtroom door this morning.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She’d meant to sound firm, but her voice came out strangled. The memories were a noose tightening around her throat, one she could not loosen.

“Leave her be, Lucas,” Hunter grumbled as he handed his card across the narrow counter to a smiling clerk in a green apron. “We all know life isn’t fair. No sense in dragging all that up again.”

Relief filtered through her, loosening the imaginary noose enough so she could breathe. All her life Hunter looked out for her, taking care of her, both he and Luke.

“I didn’t mean to drag up any bad stuff.” Luke’s brawny arm slid around her shoulders, hooked her by the neck and gave her a brief brotherly one-armed hug. “Just trying to help.”

“Stop helping.” Hunter shook his head and dug cash out of his pocket for the tip jar. A hint of a grin hooked the corners of his stern mouth. Growly on the outside, soft on the inside. “Go fill the cups, would you, Brookie?”

“Some things never change no matter how long you are away.” She shook her head, also fighting to hide a smile. “Bossy, bossy, bossy.”

“Someone has to be in charge. Why not me?” Hunter quipped as she grabbed the stack of cups on the counter.

“Why does it always have to be you?” Luke good-naturedly argued, his voice trailing after her as she headed for the soda machines.

Her brothers’ banter faded into indistinct rumbles blending with the other conversations in the busy shop. In their way, her brothers were trying to help and she loved them for it. She extracted one cup from the stack and stabbed it beneath the ice dispenser, and the anxious knot in her middle eased a notch. She had been away from home too long. She missed them all so much.

“Looks like you could use some help.” Colbie sidled in to steal two cups from the stack. “Brianna seems to be holding up well. It can’t be easy to have to relive what happened to her that night.”

“No, I’m sure it’s not.” She feared her sharp-eyed half sister’s comment had a double meaning, that Colbie was also gently wondering the same about Brooke. She closed the door on her memories, leaving them buried. She filled the cup with root beer, glancing over her shoulder. Bree and her identical twin, Brandi, sat at a table near Lil. Bree’s handsome fiancé towered at her side, his strong arm around her as if determined to protect her from the world.

Nice. She was so grateful her sister had found someone to love her, someone honest and good. Brianna deserved a happy future.

Her phone erupted into an electronic tune, surprising her. Who could it be? Root beer sloshed over the rim and onto her knuckles as she clapped on a plastic lid. Most people who would call her were in this restaurant. She thought of the applications she’d sent out before boarding the bus in Seattle. Oh, what if it was someone about a job?

“I’d better get this.” She opened her bag, heart pounding, fingers fumbling. Please, let it be a good job, she prayed.

“You go ahead. I’ll finish up.” Colbie shooed her away with an encouraging grin.

A little swish of hope beat through her as she stepped away. All she needed was a job to get back on her feet—that was all. Just one job. Any job. Her former position hadn’t paid well, but it had included her room and she didn’t need much to get by. She found her phone by feel in the bottom of her bag and checked the number.

Not an out-of-area phone call, she saw from her phone’s screen, but Liam Knightly’s name. He’d sent her a picture. Odd. She hit a button and a vivid image of a living room popped onto the display. Her jaw dropped at the image in full Technicolor. She stared unblinking at a living room in complete disarray. The couch had no cushions, lamps were toppled and DVDs were scattered all over the floor. Had he been robbed?

Wait a minute. She remembered a certain yellow Lab and the ham incident. Had Oscar done this? A grin stretched across her face. She couldn’t help it. That dog could sure destroy a room. Clearly a natural talent, poor boy.

Another chime, another picture. This one appeared to be of a spare bedroom made into an office. A desk’s empty surface shone beneath a sunny windowsill, a printer, a telephone and paper lay on the floor surrounding it. One closet door hung lopsided off its frame. In the corner of the room sat a yellow dog on an overstuffed chair, front paws propped on one chewed-up arm, a deliriously happy grin on his canine face.

“That’s a cute dog.” Colbie glanced over her shoulder. “Why did he do that to the room?”

“Separation anxiety. How did Liam get my number?”

“It’s a mystery.” Eyes sparkling, Colbie sashayed away loaded down with soda cups.

It was no mystery at all. Brooke rolled her eyes. A text message filled her screen.

I need professional help, Liam wrote.

That’s a private matter between you and your therapist. Her thumbs flew across the keys.

Funny. Just what I need. A comedic dog trainer.

She huffed out a breath. I’m not a dog trainer.

Colbie said U were.

She sighed. Colbie is a meddler.

That doesn’t change the fact I need a dog trainer. U interested?

The image of his face, of the amused, easygoing gleam in his striking blue eyes, came to her as easily as if he stood in front of her. Definitely a bad sign and a hint that maybe she should turn down his job offer.

But, come to think of it, she could use the work. Clearly Oscar could use some help adjusting to his new home. Her thumbs tapped out an answer. Maybe.

I’ll pay whatever U want. His words seemed frantic. Just help me.

I’m not sure U can be trained, but I can try.

Me? What about Oscar?

For his sake, I’ll do it. She hit Send, shaking her head. So, she had a job of sorts after all.

Her phone chimed with Liam’s next text. Great. Whew. I need your help desperately.

With a little training up, I think you will make a fine dog owner, she typed and hit Send.

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a decade.” Hunter ambled up, carrying two loaded trays of sandwiches. “Got a boyfriend we don’t know about?”

“He’s not even a friend and that’s the way it will stay, so don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you know something I don’t.” Brothers. She grabbed the rest of the sodas and joined her brother at the two tables the family had claimed. After she handed out the drinks, her cell chimed again.

Me? I don’t need training. I already know how to sit. How to fetch.

She could imagine the manly crinkles in the corners of Liam’s eyes as he grinned, typing those words. She eased into a chair, tapping out an answer on the keys. It’s a start. Text me your address and I’ll swing by after court.

“Brooke, we’re waiting on you to say grace.” Hunter frowned as if annoyed as he stacked the emptied trays. His annoyance was pure show. His dark gaze shone with gentleness.

“Oops.” She stuffed her phone into her bag and bowed her head as Hunter began the prayer. She added silent thanks for her blessings of family and a plea for poor Oscar. If things didn’t work out, she would hate for him to go back to living behind barred doors. She shivered, breaking a little inside at the memory. She knew exactly how heartbreaking that existence could be.

* * *

Squinting against the late afternoon sun shining in her eyes, she pulled to a stop at the curb. The small pickup she’d borrowed from Brianna idled roughly as she put it in Park.

This was Liam’s house? She studied the bungalow shaded by two broadleaf maples. The front porch framed two spacious windows and a front door, giving the home a smiling look.

A bark erupted the moment she opened the truck’s door. A golden blur streaked across the tidy lawn as she rose to her feet.

“No, Oscar! No!” Liam’s laughter held no sting as his command echoed in the front yard. He raced into sight but not fast enough to stop the golden blur from springing over a row of low shrubbery.

She caught sight of ears up, tongue lolling and bright canine eyes gleaming. She braced for impact, just in case. “Oscar, sit.”

Did it work? Not a chance. Paws hit her shoulders, a tongue swiped from her chin to her forehead and she sat down hard on the sidewalk, eighty pounds of dog in her lap.

“Brooke, are you all right?” Liam’s concern, Liam’s hand on her arm, his caring blue eyes meeting hers.

“I’m fine.” A dog’s happy kiss swiped across her face again and she laughed. Really laughed. After a hard day dealing with ghosts of her past and worries of how the trial was affecting Brianna, Oscar’s exuberance felt like a gift, a true blessing that was as welcome as the warm May sun and the song of the breeze through the maple leaves. “Oscar, you are a great boy. Do you know that?”

Chocolate eyes twinkled a happy answer. The big dog leaped and danced on the sidewalk, caught a whiff of her purse and tried to stick his nose beneath the leather flap.

“Oscar?” Liam caught his collar. “No more destruction. You’ve maxed out your daily limit, buddy.”

“I think he’s going for the dog biscuits I picked up on the way over. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Careful. Leather is edible, at least to him. So are most materials known to man.” He held out his free hand to help her from the ground. She reached without thought, her palm sliding against his. A jolt of awareness whispered through her, the oddest of sensations, a charged sweetness. What on earth? She’d never experienced anything like that before.

Did he feel this, too? She couldn’t tell. His face remained unchanged as his hand fell away from hers, leaving her palm tingly. Somehow she made her feet work, falling into stride beside him. Oscar bounded between them on the walkway, sniffing her purse.

“How is Brianna holding up?” Kindness layered Liam’s question. “This had to be a hard day of remembering.”

“Yes, but she’s awesome. She’s been through a lot of trauma but she’s handling this better than I could in her shoes.”

“Have she and Max set a wedding date yet?”

“Word is they want a Christmas wedding, although nothing official yet.” She tapped up the front steps and onto the cozy porch, keeping a good hold on her bag. Oscar had begun to drool. “They are going to wait until all this court stuff is over.”

“Smart. Finish one chapter, then start another.” He pulled open the front door, giving her a new view of the destruction. “I haven’t been home long enough to tackle this.”

“Oh, Oscar.” She gaped at the scene. The pictures Liam sent hadn’t begun to tell the whole story. Amazed, she walked into the ruin, stepping over DVD cases and fluffs of stuffing from the couch pillows, shocked at Oscar’s thoroughness.

The Lab whined, worry furrowing his doggy brow.

“You know that was wrong, don’t you?” She kept her voice gentle but didn’t hide her disappointment in him.

Oscar’s head sank. His haunches went down. No whine had ever sounded as sorry.

“See? This is my problem.” Liam’s gaze speared hers, full of sympathy for his canine friend. “He loses his head and then regrets it later. He’s not a bad dog.”

“Not even close.” She liked Liam more for understanding that. With the slant of the light through the windows falling across him he appeared gilded, like a dream. Why did her heart skip three beats? Why couldn’t she pull away to put more physical distance between them?

All good questions. The fact that she actually felt a little comfortable with him surprised her more. Maybe it was how he’d protected her earlier in the courtroom corridor, hauling her purposefully away from the nosy reporter. She wasn’t good at letting anyone do something for her, even family. She’d become very self-reliant. Maybe too self-reliant. His help had felt nice.

Liam gave the front door a push, closing it with a final click. He squared his shoulders as he surveyed the room. “I’ve been wanting to redecorate anyway.”

Funny. She liked that about him, too. The left side of his mouth crooked upward into a grin and a dimple dug into his lean cheek. Totally a likeable guy.

“Do you know what you need?” She did her best to drag her gaze away from his riveting dimple.

“A swift kick for my brilliant idea to get a dog?”

“No, because it was a brilliant idea. You saved him. You gave him a new life.” She tried to sound casual, keeping her approval tucked down deep. Did she succeed? Who knew? She suspected probably not. “What you need is someone to help you clean up this mess.”

“You would do that?” Liam’s gaze harpooned her and she could see into him, where his kindness lived.

“Why not?” She wasn’t affected by him. Really. And that was the story she was sticking with. “I like to help where I can, and let’s face it, you have a problem here. It’s hard to believe one dog could do so much damage.”

“Wait till you see the kitchen.” The dimple cutting into his cheek deepened and so did the gleam in his eyes. “That’s nice of you, Brooke. It’s the best offer I’ve had all day.”

“Probably the only offer you’ve had all day.”

“True.” His chuckle rumbled smooth and warm like butter melting, and a matching dimple bracketed the right corner of his mouth. For most women that would probably be irresistible.

Good thing she was immune.

“I may as well feed you since you’re here anyway.” A casual invitation as he knelt to gather up a bunch of DVD cases. Most of them only had a few teeth marks. “I’ve got some meat defrosting in the kitchen. All I can offer you is a hamburger.”

“I’ve never met a hamburger I haven’t liked.”

“Excellent. Another thing we have in common.”

“You’re counting?” She rescued a couch cushion from the floor.

“Just making conversation. Trying to figure out the puzzle that is Brooke McKaslin.”

“I’m a puzzle?”

“Only in that I don’t know anything about you.” He set the DVDs on a shelf. “I’ve known Colbie and Lil for years, ever since they moved in next door to my grandmother. We attend the same church.”

“Then why didn’t I see you at yesterday’s service?” She studied him with an analytical arch to her amazing blue eyes and it made his heart catch.

That lurch in his chest bothered him.

“Let me guess.” He rescued more DVDs from the floor. “You went to the early service.”

“And you didn’t?”

“Nope. I find it tough to get up early on Sunday.”

“Ah, another piece of the puzzle that is Liam Knightly.”

“I’m no puzzle. With me, what you see is what you get.”

“That’s too bad.”

He rolled his eyes, laughing along with her. He rescued a few stray DVDs that still might work once the dried slobber was cleaned off. He gave them a swipe with his sleeve. “So, what do you do besides coming to the rescue of desperate dog owners?”

“I’ll let you know. I’m currently unemployed.”

“Ouch. Been there.” He matched up DVDs with their mangled cases, but where were his eyes? Watching her. “It was long, long ago but I remember it clearly. Unemployment is not fun.”

“No, but I’m not dwelling on it. Something will work out.” She straightened the last cushion. Her movements, graceful and self-conscious, stole him. It was as if she’d reached right over and tried grabbing his heart.

“Well, something worked out for you today. Oscar is your next job.” He swallowed against the tightness in his throat, but nothing could dispel the odd sensation of almost being caught by her.

He didn’t want to be caught by anyone.

“I’m sure Oscar will be the best job I’ve ever had. He’s a sweetie.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He ambled around the coffee table, still on its side, and bent to right it. “Colbie might keep finding you work.”

“You never know. She’s certainly determined.” She dug in her purse and withdrew a packet of needles and different-colored thread bobbins. “I think she wants me to find something here so that I’ll stay in Montana.”

“Do you want to stay?” He heaved the oak coffee table onto all four legs, watching her through his lashes.

“I don’t know.” Her voice dipped. “I’ve gotten used to life in Seattle.”

“Oh, I get it. You have someone there. A boyfriend?” Why was he disappointed? He should not be bummed because Brooke had a significant other.

“No, no way. Just a life I’ve gotten comfortable with.” She held up a length of thread to one of the couch cushions, nodded and chose a needle.

No boyfriend? Why was he relieved? “Sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone. Take a risk.”

“I’ve done that. Got burned.” She shrugged, oddly vulnerable and trying to hide it. “Lived to regret it. Hugely.”

“Who hasn’t?”

“True.” He didn’t know what it was about her that drew him. It was a mystery he had to figure out. Was it her honesty, like the quietest note of a hymn, that hooked him? Or the promise of an amazing spirit that went along with her breath-stealing beauty? He wished he knew. One thing he liked was a puzzle. It was the reporter in him. He had to know more, so he tried again. “What do you do for a living?”

“A little of this, a little of that.” She threaded the needle. “I think the couch cushion is totally salvageable, but what about that throw pillow?”

“Not a chance of saving it, and I’m the one asking the questions.” He swept up the pillow missing half its stuffing. He had more pressing matters, mainly the intrigue of Brooke McKaslin. “Where did you go to college?”

“I didn’t.”

Curious. He would have pegged her for an intellectual type with a degree in fine arts or maybe social work. She stayed away for most holidays or he would have spotted her at Gram’s long before this. “Why did you move so far from your family?”

“Uh…” She looked up from knotting her thread. Her long hair whipped as she glanced around the room. “Liam, where is Oscar?”

“Nice one, but you aren’t going to distract me. I’m on a mission—”

“No, really, where’s Oscar?” Concern tugged at her rosebud lips. “Where did he go?”

A crash rang from the kitchen, accompanied by the thud of something four-footed landing on the floor. A plate clattered to a ringing stop.

“Mystery solved,” Liam quipped. “He’s in the kitchen helping himself to our dinner.”

Chapter Four

“Amazing. The wrapping isn’t even stopping him.” Liam surveyed what remained of the defrosting pound of hamburger with disbelief etched on his face. “Worse, it didn’t even slow him down.”

“Oscar has a gift, that’s for sure.” Brooke laughed. “Oscar, give.”

Recognition sparked in chocolate-brown eyes. The dog obviously knew the word. His jowls stopped working. Big, sharp teeth clamped mutinously. With his big feet braced and every muscle tensed, he did not want to relinquish his prize.

“Oscar.” She willed a little authority into her voice. “Give.”

His eyes went down. His head went down. With one big swallow he gulped the rest of the meat before there was any hope of recovering it. All she saw was a flash from the wrapping paper before it disappeared behind his sharp teeth.

“I’m disappointed in you.” She let that show in her words, too.

Oscar swallowed one final time and whined in defeat, and his nose drooped to the floor as if he were disappointed in himself, too. Doggy brows arched in dismay.

A perfect picture of remorse.

“Just like with the ham.” Liam raked his fingers through his thick locks of hair. “He totally lost his head and lived to regret it.”

“We’ll have to work on his impulse control. And you.” She whirled at him, doing her best not to notice the concern for the dog on his face, the fact that he wasn’t angry, that he wasn’t quick to lash out at the dog. “You know he has food issues. You shouldn’t have left that meat out to tempt him.”

“Me? I’m in trouble?” He chuckled at that, thought about it, shook his head. “I probably deserve it. You’re right. I clearly need training.”

“Glad you can admit it. That’s the first step.” She shouldn’t be chuckling along with him. Just like she shouldn’t be noticing how handsome he was with his silk tie askew and loosened, with his striped dress shirt a little wrinkled and the top button undone. She shouldn’t be noticing the way the sunlight backlit him, glossing him like a statue. The most incredible statue she’d ever seen—sculpted masculine features, carved muscled physique and compassion towering over her.

Don’t gasp. Don’t stare. Don’t notice. She swallowed hard, trying to will her eyes to move away from him. Did they?

No. Did she want them to?

No. And wasn’t that the problem? Surely if she tried hard enough she could talk herself into it, right?

“I’ve got to get used to having you around, buddy.” He knelt to rub the dejected dog’s head. Poor Oscar was so unhappy with himself, he whined even harder. Worry creased his canine face. “We’ll figure it out, yes we will. I’m guessing you were awful hungry at least one time in your life, huh, buddy?”

“He probably was.” Brooke knelt, caught by the man’s sensitivity, impressed that he’d figured out what was driving Oscar’s behavior on a deeper level. “Everyone has things that motivate them or hold them back. Even dogs.”

“Are you telling me he’s always going to be a food thief?” Humor in those words, sympathy for Oscar in those deep eyes.

“It’s likely. He’ll get better, but it’s easier to train you not to leave food out.”

“Ah, that’s what you meant about the training me thing?”

“Sorry, Liam, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg. You are going to require a lot of training before you deserve this guy.” Laughing, seeking refuge in humor instead of her feelings, she brushed her fingertips across the soft fur of Oscar’s neck.

Relief squeaked through the dog’s tight-sounding throat. His tongue lashed out, swiping across her face one, two, three times so fast she could barely pull away as the fourth one hit her. Raw ground beef dog breath. She shook her head. All part of the job. “I say you should feed this guy. Don’t waste any time. Where’s his kibble?”

“Look around.” Liam swept his hand to the floor, where pieces of dried dog food were scattered over the entire span of the linoleum. It had been flung under the lip of the cabinets, tossed into the corners and tucked beneath the debris of what was once an organized kitchen.

“Oscar.” The pictures hadn’t told the full story. Everything had been knocked off the counters. Even the magnets from the refrigerator’s front panel. “You’re a nut. You know that?”

Oscar’s single bark reverberated through the kitchen, just short of deafening. He looked happy to be understood at last.

“What about us?” Liam tugged open the pantry door and unrolled the food bag. Oscar’s ears went up. His nose hiked into the air, sniffing. His tail thumped hard on the ground before he launched across the kitchen, nails clipping fast. Food rushed into a red plastic dog bowl. “You and I are going to have to eat something. We’ve got to keep up our strength if we’re going to keep up with Oscar.”

“Is he even chewing?”

“Nah. I think he’s inhaling it whole. Hope it all goes down all right without getting clogged. Do you know the Heimlich for dogs?”

“I do. The bowl’s already empty. Incredible.”

“Oscar’s got skills. Not necessarily good ones.” Liam rolled up the bag and hid it in the pantry, making sure the door was securely closed. “Maybe it would be good to get him out of the house. Say, go for a ride?”

“Woof!” Oscar danced at the word, big chocolate eyes sparkling with excitement. He raced to the back door so fast, his hind legs skidded out from under him. “Woof!”

“It’s too late to disappoint him now.” Liam pulled a ring of keys from his trouser pocket. “C’mon.”

“I’m in charge of this training session.” Really, she had to hold her ground. She had to keep control because something felt very, very off. Maybe it was the way laugher made his expressive eyes glitter. Or the rolling lilt of his chuckle, inviting and contagious and ending in a deep masculine rumble. Whatever it was, she had to remain unaffected. Remote. Steel.

“I’m not in charge, either,” Liam quipped, “so it’s only fair. Are you hungry?”

“You mean we’re going out to eat?”

“We’ll have to since there’s nothing here, not anymore.” He unhooked the looped leash from a hook on the wall and clipped it to Oscar’s collar, not that the dog could stand still. He danced, he hopped, he barked. “It’ll be fun.”

“Fun? I don’t doubt that.” Oscar was a laugh a minute. Her feet decided for her. They pulled her inexorably toward the man and his dog. The door opened, Oscar coiled up like a spring. The moment he had enough room he hurled through the door in one mighty leap that took Liam with him. There was a clatter and a boom.

“Are you all right?” She poked her head out the door to see the barbecue grill land on its side on the deck. Did that stop Oscar? Not a chance. Like the lead dog on an Iditarod team, he half dragged, half pulled Liam to a big blue truck.

“Lock up, would you?” Liam’s call carried on the wind. With a bonk, Oscar’s front paw went up on the side of the truck, whining to be let in.

She had her work cut out for her. She twisted the lock button on the inside of the knob, backed onto the deck and closed the door. Sweet Montana breezes ruffled her hair as she turned into the sunshine, feeling light as air. Robins hopped along lush green grass looking for their dinners, and larks twittered from overhead branches as she skirted the downed barbecue and descended the steps toward Liam, who was waiting for her on the other side of the gate.

“I’m glad you signed on for this.” He held the door open, his smile wide and as attractive as a toothpaste commercial. He looked far too fine of a man and she felt uncomfortable. Way too close to him.

She could feel the soft fan of his breath on her neck. His hand closed around her elbow to help boost her up into the truck. Definitely too close. Panic licked through her.

“I can’t imagine anyone being as understanding with Oscar. Thank you.” The deep tones of his voice rumbled smoothly, calm and easygoing. “I tuned in to one of those dog training shows on cable and it scared me a little.”

“Sure, because you look scared.” She slid onto the seat, trying not to notice the panic galloping through her. He let go, she could breathe, glad to be back in her comfort zone again. “I guess it depends on the kind of relationship you want with your dog.”

“Right? That’s what I think. I’m not into the militant alpha dog thing. I’m just hoping he won’t wreck my house while I’m gone. Is that too much to ask?”

“Who knows?” she quipped. “We’ll have to find out.”

“If you, the dog trainer, don’t have faith, then who does?” He shut the door for her, framed by the partially open window.

Oscar barked, poked his nose over the seatback and swiped her across the jaw with his tongue. He hopped up and down on the seat like a puppy, watching as his new master circled around the truck, unable to take his doggy gaze from Liam. Those big chocolate eyes reflected a big heart full of love.

That was Oscar’s problem, she realized, watching the man climb into his seat, buckle up and plug keys into the ignition. What must it have been like to have been locked up at the shelter? To watch people wander by the kennels and choose other dogs, leaving him behind? What must it have felt like to wonder if anyone would ever want you?

Oscar must have been so relieved and overjoyed when Liam had chosen him, kind and easygoing Liam. It showed in those doggy eyes.

She twisted around in the seat to rub Oscar’s head. He bumped up into her hand, panting hard, tongue lolling. Happiness emanated from him with such force, he trembled.

“Are you ready to roll, buddy?” Liam put the truck in gear, watching in the rearview mirror as the dog rocked back onto his haunches, sitting like a good boy. An ear-splitting bark echoed around the passenger compartment in response. “Okay. Then let’s go. Brooke, I hope you like Mr. Paco’s Tacos.”

“Are you kidding? It’s a family favorite.”

“Good to hear because they give the best dog treats in their drive-thru.” He guided the truck down the narrow concrete driveway and onto the tree-lined street. He zipped down the side passenger window halfway so Oscar could stick his nose out and breathe in all those scents as the street went by. “Now where were we?”

“When?”

“Before Oscar interrupted us. I was about to question you some more. Figure out the real Brooke McKaslin. Yes, I remember where I was. Why don’t you live closer to your family?”

“Which family, that’s the question.” She leaned back in her seat, lowering her window, letting the wind play with the ends of her hair. She looked stunning in a simple green summery top and denim shorts, more beautiful than any girl next door he’d ever known. Twice as wholesome, twice as sweet. “I grew up near Miles City but I haven’t been back to that part of Montana since I was just out of high school.”

She faked a smile, but she probably didn’t mean to—she probably thought she pulled it off but he could read the sorrow in her eyes. It was sadness so brief he could have imagined it. She crossed her ankles, sitting prim and as pretty as a picture in a magazine.

“My mom still lives there,” she explained. “Marriage to my father embittered her. She grew hard after their divorce. Over the years she’s become someone I hardly know. She has her own life. We don’t talk much.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is that why Lil dotes on you?”

“Lil dotes on everyone and I’m grateful for that. She was there for me when my mom wasn’t.” She bit her bottom lip, perhaps debating whether to stay silent or to say more. He could read between the lines—it wasn’t that tough to imagine how painful the rift was between mother and daughter. Again, the pain crossing her face flashed briefly, just one single glimpse before it was gone. “My dad got out of jail not long ago. He was arrested for counterfeiting.”

“You don’t have the all-American family?”

“Not even close.” She shrugged her slender shoulders, as if her troubles were not a big deal in the scale of things. “My older brothers are wonderful. They’ve stood beside me, and they’ve never let me down. We were close growing up.”

“Yeah? What was that like?” He turned at the end of the street, taking the residential route. Oscar kept entertained dashing between the windows, seeing a squirrel out one window, and racing along the backseat to whine at a cat out the other.

“It wasn’t all that interesting. I’ll bore you.”

“Not even close. I’m riveted. See?”

Her smile could kick-start his heart if he ever found himself in need of a defibrillator. She rolled her eyes. “Before Dad left us, he’d treated Mom pretty badly. We were glad to see him go. He didn’t work hard at keeping in contact with us. He was too busy stringing Lil along, promising marriage and I don’t know what else. I know he hurt her terribly.”

“So you didn’t know Lil when you were younger?”

“Not really. We were doing all we could to hold on to the family farm. In the end, we couldn’t. Dad had taken a second mortgage out on it when the land values ballooned, right before he took off.”

That’s all he needed to know about Brooke’s dad. She didn’t deserve a father like that, one who let her down. “That’s rough. It sounds like he didn’t treat Lil any better.”

“No. I don’t know what happened, but she cries about it to this day. By the time he’d gotten married again and the twins were born—”

“Bree and Brandi.”

“Yes. He stayed away. That’s how I like it.”

“How did you all get so close? I’ve seen the way Lil dotes over you. Colbie champions you. There’s a story there, I know it. Don’t tell me it’s dull. I don’t buy it.”

“Oh, it’s not dull, just best left in the past.” There were so many things she couldn’t tell him, places she did not want to speak of. The past—her lost years, finding out exactly how heartless some men could be—it was all best kept safely buried. “There’s Mr. Paco’s Tacos.”

“Saved in the nick of time. Again.” He whipped into the parking lot while Oscar poked his nose out the window, gave a deep sniff and barked happily. His tail went thump, thump, thump against the back of Brooke’s seat.

“Yes, and don’t think I won’t return the favor.” Nothing like a little threat to keep a man in line, she thought as the truck idled at the lit giant menu. “If you can ask questions, then I can ask questions.”

“I’m in big trouble now.” He tossed a wink.

Handsome. Charming. With killer dimples to match.

Be still my heart, she thought. She prayed. She pleaded. Don’t be affected by him, Brooke. Don’t do it. But could she help it?

No. The world around her faded into nothing, the fears within her faded into silence. And Liam? He took front and center. He was life and color while everything else turned gray.

“Is my head in your way?” He scooted back a little more, as much as his seat would allow. “Can you see all the burrito choices?”

“Not necessary, because I live for Mr. Paco’s soft chicken tacos.”

“Who doesn’t?” The speaker squawked, and a crackling voice asked if they were ready to order. Liam ordered three meals, complete with Mexi-fried tater tots, sodas and an order of nachos. Oscar barked, eager to talk to Mr. Paco, too.

“Sounds like someone needs a dog treat.” The proprietor chuckled warmly. When they pulled up to the window, a big dog-boned–shaped goody waited. Oscar crunched happily on it as Liam tugged out his wallet.

“Don’t even think about it,” he told her with that smile she couldn’t say no to. “This is my treat. You are doing me a favor.”

“I haven’t done one yet.”

“What do you mean? You’ve already taught me not to leave hamburger out on the counter. That’s a start.” He handed over a twenty to Mr. Paco, who squinted through the window at her.

“At first I thought you were Colbie, but you’re Brooke,” he said. “The sister from Seattle. Good to see you again.”

“Good to see you.” The moment broke like a soap bubble in the air, suddenly and completely. No way to get it back. For a moment she’d forgotten who she was, she’d forgotten her past. Mr. Paco knew. For a moment she’d been able to step away from the woman she’d been. Anxiety beat through her, kicking in her bloodstream right along with the shot of adrenaline.

Please don’t say it, Mr. Paco, she silently pleaded. Don’t say what happened nine long years ago.

“It’s good to see you, Brooke.” Mr. Paco dug in his till and handed Liam his change. “I’ve been keeping your sister in prayer.”

Oh, Brianna. Relief left her sagging against her seat belt. “Thank you. I know she would be very touched you’re lifting her up in prayer. This is a hard time for her.”

“She is blessed to have her family nearby. I’ll get your sodas. Be right back.” Mr. Paco’s warm smile telegraphed caring and concern.

“I hear the tough stuff starts tomorrow. In court,” Liam clarified. “Recreating the facts of the case. The district attorney is determined to get a conviction.”

“He wants justice.” She remembered the capable, serious-looking man sitting soldier straight, heading the prosecution. Her family put a lot of faith in him. “For all the victims’ sakes, I hope he gets it. We nearly lost Brianna. That’s what brought us together. Lil called me with the news they were rushing to catch a plane to Seattle because Bree had been flown to the trauma center there. It was that serious. I didn’t even know Lil had my number.”

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