BACK TO THE BEGINNING

Aaron “Click” Hale is a reminder of Tandy Boone’s past and of the heartache they endured years ago. But the handsome horse trainer is back in Fort Kyle, Texas, raising a toddler on his own, and stirring up all the dreams—and emotions—he and Tandy once shared.

Click is reeling, and only partially because Tandy is back in his life. He discovered he was a father the same day he was given custody of his young daughter, Pearl. As Click adjusts to parenthood, Tandy is supportive and wonderful with the little girl. But they’re both still hurting. Can Tandy and Click find a way through their old pain to build a new family together?

“Tandy, there are things to be said—” Click took a shaky breath.

“No.” Her voice razor sharp, she threw up a hand.

“Tandy—”

“We’re not talking about the past.” The words were harsh.

He gritted his teeth. “Let me apologize.”

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, dammit,” he argued.

“You need to apologize so I need to listen?” She shook her head. “So you can feel better? Be able to let go and move on?”

He tore his gaze from hers, staring at the floor. If he thought she was happy, that she’d moved on, he’d let it go. But she hadn’t. And neither had he. Maybe together they could find a way back to living without bearing so much pain.

He sucked in another deep breath and stared at her.

“Have you?” He crossed the room, needing to be close to her. Yearning for her touch. “Because I can’t…and I don’t want to.”

Dear Reader,

I’m so excited to share Click and Tandy’s story with you. As a hopeless romantic, I like to believe that true love really does conquer all. Sometimes the obstacles are small. For Click and Tandy, that’s not the case.

With most of Tandy’s relatives falling in love and starting families, she’s reminded of everything she had—and lost. Instead of getting bogged down in grief, she jumps on a too-good-to-pass-up job offer and the change of scenery it brings. But her past followed her to the West Texas town—and so does the heartache.

Click Hale hadn’t planned on being a single father. But his daughter is all he has in the world, and he’s determined to do the best he can. If he can win back Tandy’s love, he’ll give his daughter the family he never had and make his dreams come true.

I hope you enjoy our first visit to Fort Kyle and the rugged beauty of West Texas. Be on the lookout for the next Boone book, and happy reading!

All the best,

Sasha Summers

Cowboy Lullaby

Sasha Summers

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SASHA SUMMERS grew up surrounded by books. Her passions have always been storytelling, romance and travel. Whether it’s an easy-on-the-eyes cowboy or a hero of truly mythic proportions, Sasha falls a little in love with each and every one of her heroes. She frequently gets lost with her characters in the worlds she creates, forgetting those everyday tasks like laundry and dishes. Luckily, her four brilliant children and hero-inspiring hubby are super understanding and helpful.

For Jolene Navarro

Thank you for your time, your mad plotting skills and your constant support.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Extract

Chapter One

“Lynnie would be spitting nails if she knew everyone in town had been here with the house looking this way.” Tandy stood in the front parlor, surveying the room. Her massive dog, Banshee, sat at her side.

Most of the residents of Fort Kyle had already left, leaving casseroles, desserts and treats to cover Lynnie’s kitchen counters and tables. Not that there was anyone left to eat them. Still, it’s what folks did—bring food, visit, share memories that honored the recently deceased.

Tandy swallowed hard. It was difficult to accept Lynnie was gone. She’d been such a strong spirit, and Tandy couldn’t imagine life without her.

Walking into Lynnie Hale’s house was like stepping back in time. Any second now, she expected Lynnie to walk around the corner—wearing her favorite apron, with a welcoming smile on her face and stories to tell.

A wave of nostalgia rolled over Tandy. This had been the place she’d been happiest. Seeing it empty and quiet was plain wrong. She ran her fingers along the fine layer of dust on Lynnie’s upright piano, a sure sign the older woman hadn’t been home in some time. If she had, her piano would have stayed clean and neat. Lynnie Hale was—had been—fiercely and unapologetically house proud. To have the people of Fort Kyle here seeing her home and treasures in anything less than perfect condition would make Lynnie ashamed.

She hurried into the kitchen to find her cousins, Scarlett and Renata, covering food and storing it in the refrigerator.

“Anyone left?” Renata asked her.

“A few of her friends are still chatting in the living room. I think everyone else has cleared out,” she answered, offering them both a smile.

“Can we clean now?” Scarlett asked.

“Bothering you, too?” Tandy asked. “I kept imagining her, how mad she’d be.”

Renata nodded. “I only wish we could have set the place to rights before all of Fort Kyle came by.”

Tandy nodded. No point wishing what could have been. “We can fix it now,” she said, collecting a trash bag.

They cleared away the used dishes, stopping to chat with Lynnie’s closest friends now and then. When the dishes were gone, Tandy pulled out a duster, wood polish and an old rag and got to work. Banshee trailed after her, her constant shadow. Renata was sweeping, and Scarlett took the trash out.

Grief sat heavy on her chest, but Tandy fought it. Lynnie wouldn’t want tears or despair, she’d want laughter. Better to think about the dozens of homemade cookies, muffins, pies and breads they’d made in Lynnie’s kitchen, the sticky-sweet jams or veggies they’d canned, or the hours upon hours Tandy and her cousins had spent playing the piano and singing at the top of their lungs. Lynnie wasn’t kin, but she’d welcomed Tandy and her cousins into her home as if they were. Whenever they wandered onto her property—which was often—she’d gone out of her way to carve out time for them. So much love. And laughter. And music. Always music.

Lynnie’s place was comfort and love, laughter and songs, and family.

Tandy surveyed her work, satisfied.

She turned her attention to the framed photos decorating the wall behind the piano. She ran the feather duster around each frame, each image a familiar glimpse at the woman they’d lost. Lynnie, tall and thin, in a handful of committees and board photos. Lynnie with her prized preserves, judging livestock shows and riding drag rider at the rear of a cattle drive. There were pictures of those Lynnie loved there, too. Tandy’s picture was there, young and smiling, with Scarlett and Renata.

And Click. She studied his smile. Those blue-green eyes had made the world a better place. But that had been a long time ago.

Aaron “Click” Hale was part of her past. That’s where he needed to stay. Her cheeks grew hot, her chest heavy. He’d turn up soon. Of course he would. For Lynnie. They were kin, through thick and thin.

I can do this.

Tandy headed back into the kitchen to stow her cleaning supplies. Inside her well-organized pantry hung Lynnie’s collection of aprons. Some she’d made, some she’d bought and some were gifts. A rainbow of colors and shapes. Some were practical, the ones Lynnie wore daily. Others were pure silliness—with ruffles and sparkles and silly sayings. Still, Lynnie had held on to them.

Lynnie’s favorite, blue calico and patched so many times the original fabric was suspect, hung aside. Tandy stroked the soft fabric, drawing in an unsteady breath. I will miss you so, Lynnie.

“Tandy?” Scarlett called out. “I’m putting on a pot of coffee for Widow Riley. Want some?”

Tandy closed the pantry, shutting away the memories and sadness that followed. “Sure.”

“Think she’d be satisfied?” Renata asked, hanging the broom on its hook by the back door. Her blue eyes scrutinized their hurried cleaning efforts.

Tandy giggled. “I can hear her now. ‘Dust is just a country accent.’ Wasn’t that it?”

Scarlett and Renata laughed. It was true. In West Texas, dust was part of the decorating. Best you could do was keep it to a minimum. They’d done that.

“Banshee,” she said to the Anatolian shepherd. “Go outside for now.” She rubbed him behind the ear as he passed, looking insulted by his banishment. “It won’t take long,” she promised.

Scarlett carried a tray with coffee into the dining room. Renata followed with a plate of cookies. If Lynnie’s friends needed to stay a bit longer, they’d do what they could to be hospitable. It’s what Lynnie would have wanted. They served coffee, cleared more plates and moved into the parlor.

“You should play something.” Scarlett nodded at the now dust-free instrument.

She stared at the piano. “I can’t,” she confessed. “I don’t want to embarrass her, crying on her keyboard.”

Scarlett draped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry this happened now. Not saying there’s a better time for...” She broke off and shook her head. “You just moved here, is all I mean. To lose Lynnie now, when you’re back, it’s not fair.”

Tandy nodded. Lynnie had played a huge part in her decision to move to Fort Kyle. She swallowed.

“Lynnie would be glad you were back, Tandy,” Renata said. “And glad we set the place to rights.”

Tandy nodded, her gaze sweeping the parlor and the small group of white-haired ladies chatting away. Lynnie didn’t have family to come and tidy up her place. Other than some second cousin in the city—which city had never been specified—Lynnie didn’t have much.

Except for Click.

Tandy swallowed the razor-sharp lump in her throat, painful all the way down. Her attention wandered, but there was still no sign of Lynnie’s great-nephew. He’d be hurting, too. Lynnie was his rock, the only family that treated him like he was more than a nuisance and mistake.

“How old were we?” Renata asked, studying the wall of pictures she’d dusted earlier.

She glanced at the photo of them. “Young.” That girl hadn’t imagined her future like this. That girl had believed in the promise of a future full of everything she’d never had.

“You okay?” Renata asked, nudging her.

“We don’t have to be here.” Scarlett took her hand.

“Of course we do,” Tandy argued. “We all loved Lynnie. He might not even be here—”

“He’s not,” Scarlett said. “Not yet. Dad’s been on the lookout for him.”

Tandy looked at her. “Why? If I remember correctly, Uncle Woodrow was never very fond of Click.”

Renata snorted. “Understatement of the year.”

“But, now that Lynnie’s gone, what will happen to her property?” Scarlett asked.

Tandy frowned. “The land?” She sighed. “Lynnie’s been gone, what, three days? Uncle Woodrow’s already worrying over her land?” Of course he was. That was the way he worked.

Scarlett wrinkled her nose. “If Mr. Wallace bought this place, Dad would have a heart attack.”

Knowing her uncle Woodrow, that was probably true. Woodrow Boone, Scarlett’s father, was...prickly. He excelled at voicing his opinion loudly and being contrary. Still, Tandy respected her uncle. What he lacked in charm he made up for with determination. If he was determined to keep Lynnie’s place from falling into Vic Wallace’s possession, nothing would get in his way.

Apparently, that was something that hadn’t changed in Fort Kyle: Woodrow Boone v. Vic Wallace feud. The patriarchs of the two largest West Texas ranching families kept things civil in public—barely. The two men disagreed on everything. From cattle—Wallace’s Angus versus Uncle Woodrow’s Hereford—to fences—Wallace’s stone versus Boone’s traditional wood and wire—if they could find a way to disagree, they did.

Tandy had always thought Lynnie’s place the prettiest in the region. The natural spring that bubbled up cold and clean was a huge bonus in the dry, arid landscape. But there was more to it than access to water. Lynnie’s property was wedged between the Boones’ and Wallaces’—a hot and arid Texas Switzerland between two warring families. And since Lynnie had outlived three husbands with no children to pass the land on to—

“Click will inherit,” Tandy whispered, that realization making the tight grip on her control slip.

“Poor Click,” Renata whispered.

“That’s what Dad’s waiting on.” Scarlett shrugged.

Tandy leaned against the piano. Would he sell or stay? This place had been special to them all once, but now...

Renata glanced at Tandy with unfiltered sympathy. “I guess Click selling is what we want? I’d think having him around would be challenging.”

Renata’s words cut her deep. “I want him to be happy.” That hadn’t changed. But, yes, having him around would be challenging. Especially since she’d planned on making Fort Kyle home for a while.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Scarlett asked. “If he shows up, I mean?”

Tandy forced a smile. “I’m fine. Completely and totally.” Which was a complete and total lie. Neither of them knew the extent of the damage between her and Click, and she intended to keep it that way. No point dragging that nightmare out into the open for everyone to suffer through.

“As long as you’re sure.” But Scarlett didn’t look convinced.

“We’re here for Lynnie.” Tandy looked at them both, hoping her voice didn’t give away just how hard it was to say his name. “Click is your friend. I don’t want that to change because of me. He’ll need friends right now, so you should be there for him.” She meant it.

She saw the doubtful look Scarlett and Renata exchanged.

“Tandy, Lynnie loved my pineapple upside-down cake,” Miss Francis, Lynnie’s dearest friend, said. “Had to bring some. You mind cutting some old ladies a piece?”

Tandy smiled, leading Miss Francis into the kitchen. “Not at all. Not that I see any old ladies around.”

“Don’t know what we’ll do without her. She knew how to keep things organized—and the menfolk in line.” The woman sniffed, pressing a hankie to her nose.

“She had plenty of practice with that,” a deep voice said from the doorway. “Keeping the menfolk in line.”

Tandy didn’t have to look to know who was talking. She knew. Her reaction to him was the same. Her heart kicked into overdrive, and every inch of her seemed to tighten. Until the cold set in, soaking up everything until she was numb. It was easier that way.

“As I live and breathe, Click, look at you,” the woman gushed. “Does an old heart like mine good to see you here today.”

“Good to see you, too, Miss Francis.”

Tandy sliced into the pineapple upside-down cake, putting pieces on the flowered dessert plates she’d pulled from Lynnie’s china cabinet. Her hands were shaking, but there was nothing she could do about it. If she looked at him, it would be worse. So much worse. She wiped her palms on a kitchen towel and put the plates on a serving tray.

Any minute now he’d say something to her and she’d have to acknowledge him. She’d have to look at him, smile and act like seeing him didn’t drag her straight back into the hell she’d been living in for the last two years. The hell she’d only just managed to bottle up and bury deep inside.

The silence in the kitchen grew thick and heavy, pressing in until she almost bolted from the kitchen. No more running. She swallowed, picked up the tray of cake slices and headed for the door.

“Click,” she said, as close as she could come to a greeting. She slipped through the kitchen door, holding her breath when she brushed past him. Her lungs were aching by the time she reached the parlor and Lynnie’s waiting guests. Even as she said his name, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She was stronger now, but not that strong.

* * *

CLICK WANTED TO punch something. Over and over. Until the pain in his hand overshadowed the pain in his chest. Which would never happen. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Hell, he’d arrived here feeling that way, barely treading water. That was before he’d known Tandy was here.

Now...the odds were stacked against him.

Her scent hung in the kitchen, the ripple of her skirt against his jeans waking his senses up. Every instinct told him to go after her. He wouldn’t. He’d no right. He couldn’t hurt her, hurt them, not again. He wouldn’t survive it this time.

Her hazel-green eyes never looked at him. He should be relieved. Instead, the hole in his chest ached. He blew out a deep, slow breath.

“Looks like you never outgrow some hurts,” Miss Francis said.

Click looked at the older woman, comforted by the presence of Lynnie’s favorite cohort. “Ma’am?”

“Click Hale, don’t you pretend you don’t remember. Lynnie was plum tore up over what happened between you two. I know you were young’uns, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t love each other.” Miss Francis shook her head. “Doesn’t look like Tandy’s forgotten either.”

No, he hadn’t forgotten their summer together. Those were cherished memories, long before the heartache of two years ago. He treasured each remembered smile, kiss and sigh. His heart had been whole and fearless, full of purpose and hope. He’d grown up since then.

Miss Francis patted his hand on her way from the kitchen. “Glad you’re home, son.”

He nodded, hooked his thumbs in his belt loops as Renata joined him in the kitchen. He looked at her, waiting.

She held her hands up. “Tandy told us to be nice to you. So I will. For now.” She crossed the room, her hands rubbing his arms. “But don’t think I don’t have questions. Lots of questions.”

He nodded, not in the least surprised by Renata’s words. Of course Tandy would have told them to be nice to him—that was her way. She put others first, always. He cleared his throat.

“I’m so sorry about Lynnie,” Renata whispered.

“Me, too.” Lynnie had been too bighearted and too important to die. How could she leave him, now, when he needed her more than he’d ever needed anyone in his life? What was he supposed to do without her straightforward advice and guidance?

“How’s life been treating you, Renata?” he asked, trying to get out of his head and away from his troubles—for a few minutes.

“Life’s good, Click.” She smiled.

“I’m glad.” He grinned. He wanted only good things for her. He could count the positive forces in his life on one hand. Renata Boone was one of them. “Stonewall Crossing?”

“Growing.” She shrugged, laughing. “Thanks to my brothers, all settled family men. Toben, too.”

His brow shot up. Tandy’s twin had been more inclined to take things one night at a time. “Toben? That’s hard to believe.”

She nodded. “I know. Boy, do I know. But it’s true. And he’s happy. What about you?”

Happiness had always been a foreign concept to Click. But he was trying. He had a very good reason to try. A reason he needed to collect from Widow Riley before all hell broke loose. “Good,” he forced the word out.

Tandy.

Desperation gripped him. She didn’t deserve to have this sprung on her—like it had been sprung on him.

“Better get out there,” he said, catching Renata’s confused look before he pushed through the kitchen door and down the hall.

He spied Widow Riley the same time Tandy did, and froze. In the week since little Pearl’s mother had placed her in his arms and left, since he’d learned he was a father, Click felt like he’d been driving ninety miles an hour down an endless pitch-black highway. Now Click realized that highway led him here, toward a horrible, inescapable collision. When Widow Riley had offered to rock Pearl while she slept, he didn’t resist. Widow Riley had experience and confidence, two things he lacked when it came to babies. But seeing the old woman rock his baby girl, while Tandy approached—wearing her sweetest smile—had his stomach in knots.

“Who is this little doll?” Tandy asked.

Click braced for impact. He forced himself to move, to think, to remain calm. He’d loved Tandy since he was seven years old. It was one of the few constants in his life. That didn’t mean she gave a damn about him. Still, his daughter’s presence, her age, was bound to wound her deeply.

“This little angel is Pearl,” Widow Riley said, still rocking. “Isn’t she precious?”

Tandy placed her tray on the side table and crouched by the rocking chair. “She is that.”

Click looked at his daughter. She was beautiful. She was also small, fragile and just as confused by his presence as he was by hers. The difference was, he was supposed to be responsible for Pearl.

“How old is she?” Tandy asked, her finger tracing one round cheek.

Widow Riley looked at him for the answer.

“Fourteen months.” Click cleared his throat, his heart shuddering.

Tandy jumped up and knocked the tray, sending the remaining cake plates to the ground. He stooped to help her when Pearl started to wail. Pearl—his daughter and his obligation. He reached awkwardly for the baby girl, her slight weight in his arms still alien.

As far as babies went, she was pretty easy. She didn’t cry often, and when she did, a few pats on the back seemed to calm her. A fact Click was thankful for. Chances were, he’d fought back more tears this week than Pearl had. He held her now, whispering to her softly, fully aware that all eyes were on him.

Again.

Seemed like his branch of the Hales couldn’t turn up in Fort Kyle without causing an uproar. Not him so much, but his parents. This time, it was on him. Not that he gave a damn about what these people thought—not at the moment. The only person he owed any explanation to was on her knees, cleaning up cake and china from Lynnie’s hardwood floors.

He’d imagined a dozen scenarios for their reunion. None of them included a funeral or a baby. Shame burned his face and neck. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Tandy. He couldn’t.

“She’s yours?” Renata asked, kneeling to help Tandy.

He nodded, his throat too tight to speak.

The congratulations that followed were a surprise. For years, his presence had been greeted with judgment and gossip. He was no longer a child, but history had his defenses up. Lynnie had been his champion, shushing the whispers and gossip his sudden arrival on her doorstep was sure to kick up. What he wouldn’t give to have her here now.

Never in his life had he felt so damn alone.

Pearl hiccuped, sniffed and burrowed against his shoulder. He held her, his hand spanning the width of her back as he cradled her close. “It’s okay, Pearl,” he whispered, patting her.

“She’s beautiful.” Tandy’s words drew his attention. She was stacking the last of the china on the tray, her hands shaking and her gaze averted.

“Thank you.” The words were gruff and hard.

Pearl looked up at him, her light brown eyes full of tears, and her lips drawn into a frown.

“Hey,” he whispered, her expression softening his agitation. The world was scary enough without being frightened of your father. He knew the nightmare that was. He’d never be that man, never make his child cower in fear or cry from physical pain. Dammit. He forced a smile and wiped the tears from her soft cheeks. “No tears, baby girl.”

Pearl blinked, her instant smile unnerving him. She shouldn’t smile at him like that, like she trusted him. Like she could rely on him.

Tandy all but ran from the room, that tray rattling with broken china. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop his gaze from trailing after her. But he stood his ground, bouncing his daughter in his arm.

“Click.” Scarlett was all smiles, transfixed by the temptation of his baby daughter. Pearl had some sort of magical power, attracting women and making even the meanest sons of bitches smile. “When did you get here? Where’d you come from? A baby? Wow.”

He glanced at his watch, deciding now was not the time to open the door on questions. He answered one. “Ten minutes ago. Hate that we missed the funeral.” Traveling with a baby was no picnic. Not that he blamed her. Being strapped into that car seat looked pretty damn uncomfortable. Truth is, they’d sat in the truck through the funeral. He followed the procession to the cemetery but hadn’t been able to get out of the car. Men didn’t cry in public. He was confident Lynnie would understand.

He’d driven his trailer to the back of Lynnie’s place and unloaded the horses into the far pasture—doing it all so he could delay this. “Pearl...” He broke off and shrugged, hoping that would be all the explanation needed.

He was worn out, emotionally and physically. The house was too crowded, the people too loud and curious. After he fed and changed Pearl, he wanted peace and quiet, a shower, a beer and a soft bed. If he was lucky, he could forget the mess his life was.

Chapter Two

Tandy washed every dish in Lynnie’s kitchen. She cleaned out the refrigerator and swept and mopped the floor. She was hiding. She knew it and she didn’t care. Until her cousins were ready to go, this was where she would stay. Cleaning was how she processed.

And dammit, she had so much to process.

She’d known seeing Click would be hard. But their past had nothing to do with losing Lynnie. And then... Today had been beyond expectation. He...he was a father.

Fourteen months.

If her heart hadn’t already been shredded, this would have done it.

She’d told him to move on. And he had.

Wasted no time.

Fourteen months. Their time together hadn’t been as special as she’d thought—to him anyway. He’d waited, what, weeks? That baby was evidence of that. She’d been catatonic, consumed by sadness. And guilt—guilt that chipped away what was left of her heart.

He’d been in bed with someone—

She couldn’t think about it, couldn’t stand it. It hurt. Deep, raw and angry.

“You’re exhausting,” Renata said, having planted herself on a kitchen stool seconds before.

Tandy smiled, rinsing out the sponge.

“I say we go get drunk,” Renata said. “It’s the only option.”

Tandy shot her a look. “How do you figure that?”

“My brain can’t stop spinning. I can only imagine what’s going through yours.” Renata’s blue eyes met hers.

She was pretty sure alcohol wasn’t going to fix a thing. Still, she knew her heart wasn’t the only one hurting right now. “Scarlett’s okay with it?” she asked.

“She will be.” Renata winked.

Tandy shook her head and carried the mop bucket out the back screen door, letting it slam behind her. Poor Scarlett—she’d have no say-so in their plans for the evening. But spending a night chatting with Uncle Woodrow and Aunt Evelyn wasn’t Tandy’s ideal way to unwind. She was too wound up. They’d only make it worse. Maybe a drink or two wasn’t a bad idea. Anything to help her forget for a while.

Banshee jumped up from his place on the deck, pushing his massive head under her hand. She patted him, dumped the dirty water out and leaned against the railing, gasping for breath. The past was over and done with. She had no right to feel anything. None. So her anger was a shock. But she was. Really angry.

Worse, she hurt.

I’m done hurting over the past.

Banshee head-butted her hand, groaning in the back of his throat. She rubbed behind his ear, his silky fur calming her. A little.

Fourteen months? Fourteen months. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Didn’t want to.

“Is that Tandy Boone?”

Tandy jumped, spinning on her heel. “Brody?” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I didn’t know you were here. Last I heard, you were wheeling and dealing in Dallas, or something.”

“Just got here. Nothing like a funeral to get people together again.” Brody Wallace’s hug was warm. “I make the trip once a month, or when Dad needs me. He’s never fully recovered from his stroke last fall. Not that he’d admit it or say I was anything other than a nuisance.”

“You’re being a good son to check in on him so regularly. No thoughts of taking over the family businesses yet?” she asked.

“Soon, maybe.” Brody smiled. “I came to pay my respects. Lynnie Hale was a rare breed.”

Tandy nodded. “She was that.”

“What brings you back to Fort Kyle?” Brody’s brown eyes did a quick head-to-toe. “Not that I’m not glad to see you and all. Who is this?” he asked, nodding at Banshee.

“Banshee, my best friend, of course. We moved for a new job at the veterinary clinic.” She squinted into the setting sun, the fence between Lynnie’s and Uncle Woodrow’s property visible. And just beyond the fence line sat one of Uncle Woodrow’s hunting cabins. Wildflowers carpeted the space between, vibrant pinks and reds and blues a stark contrast to the rugged beauty of West Texas. Nothing like the rolling hills she’d left behind in Stonewall Crossing. Please God, don’t let this move be a mistake.

“So you’ll be around for a while?” he asked.

She shrugged, everything she’d known a few hours ago no longer certain. The job here paid ridiculously well, and she still needed some distance from all the weddings and babies in Stonewall Crossing. She was happy for her family and loved them dearly, but it was hard. “We’ll see.” She rubbed on Banshee then, smiling into his golden eyes.

“What’s taking so long? You better not be scrubbing the porch or sweeping the rafters—” Renata’s eyes went round when she spied Brody. “Brody Wallace, what are you doing out here?”

Brody laughed. “Enjoying the view.” He caught Renata in a big hug. “Damn good to see you, Renata.”

“You, too.” Renata clapped his shoulders. “You should come with us tonight. We can catch up.”

Brody looked back and forth between them. “Where are you going?”

“The Tumbleweed,” Renata said. “Drinks are definitely in order.”

Brody nodded. “I could use a drink. Any other Boones around?”

Tandy shook her head, knowing exactly what he was asking. “If you’re asking if Uncle Woodrow is here, the answer is no. It’s just me, Renata and Scarlett.”

He winked. “He’s not real fond of me. Guess it’s the last name.” As far as Tandy knew, the Wallace-Boone animosity began and ended with the current patriarchs.

“Is that why you’re hanging around outside?” Tandy asked.

He shrugged. “No point adding more stress to the day.”

“Agreed. We’ll meet you there, around seven,” Renata said, waving at him before tugging Tandy back into the kitchen. “No more. I’m guessing you’re as ready to go as I am?”

Tandy nodded. “You get Scarlett, I’ll get the truck.”

Renata nodded, her blue eyes full of sympathy once more. “If it helps, he’s in Lynnie’s room with...with his daughter.”

Tandy frowned, straightening. “I’m not hiding from him,” she lied. If she was avoiding him it was because she was afraid she’d cause a scene. Not by yelling, that wasn’t her style. But crying a river of tears was a surefire way to get people talking. Her cheeks were flaming as she headed from the kitchen to the front door.

“Tandy, there you are.” Miss Francis gripped her arm. “We hoped you’d play Lynnie’s favorite hymn for us. It was too quiet at the service today, what with Mr. Magee’s arthritis making it hard for him to play. Seems wrong, don’t you think? With her love of music and all.”

She wanted to argue and get the hell out of there. But how could she? Miss Francis was right. She could do this—for Lynnie.

“Yes. Of course.” With a glance at Scarlett and Renata, she made her way to the piano. She sat, running her finger along the newly polished surface before sliding the lid back. She took a deep breath, stretched her fingers and began. No one needed to tell her what Lynnie’s favorite hymn was. Lynnie had hummed “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” all the time. She said prayer was really a long-distance call to Jesus, that he was always listening.

Tandy played, the straightforward notes and simple rhythm flowing from her without thought. She could almost hear Lynnie, knitting in her rocking chair, humming along. Voices joined in, filling the small parlor with song. She sang, too, the words long ago etched into her brain. By the time she was done, there were tears on her cheeks. Happy, thankful tears for the privilege of knowing such a strong and giving woman. Sorrow that such a life force was gone. And yet, she was one of the gifted few to know and love Lynnie Hale.

“That was perfect, darling girl,” Miss Francis said, pulling her into a tight embrace before Tandy had managed to stand. “She loved to hear you play, loved that you loved music so.”

Music was a comfort. Thanks to Lynnie, she’d mastered the piano, the guitar, the banjo and the dulcimer. Creating music and lyrics eased wounds and hurts too deep to ever fully heal. “She didn’t give me much choice,” Tandy said, wiping her cheeks. “I’m not sure I ever thanked her for that.”

Beyond Miss Francis, Renata and Scarlett waited—crying and leaning on each other. Brody Wallace had come inside and had an arm around each of them.

And Click, stony and rigid, watched her from the door.

Black hair. Strong jaw. Tall and broad and muscled. Blue-green eyes that pierced her soul. Nothing had changed. Nothing. Except all the pleasure his presence used to stir was replaced with something jagged and sad and cold. She tore her gaze from his, sheer determination the only thing that kept her from breaking down right there in the middle of Lynnie’s formal parlor.

“I’d say that was the perfect way to end the day. We’d best get,” Widow Riley said. “You need anything, Click? With your baby girl and all?”

The need to leave quadrupled. She didn’t want to think about Click and his baby girl. She couldn’t. It hurt too much.

“Yeah, Click,” Brody joined in. “We’re going into town, to the Tumbleweed, if you want to join us?”

Tandy wanted to sink through the floorboards at her feet.

Scarlett and Renata stared at her, their expressions revealing the horror and dread bouncing around in her stomach.

“He can’t go gallivanting.” Widow Riley’s disapproval was clear. “He’s a father. I’m sure Pearl’s mama wouldn’t approve.”

With a wave, Tandy was out the front door, almost tripping on the wooden steps in her haste to get away. “Banshee, load up,” she called out. Banshee came trotting around the porch, racing her to the truck and jumping into the truck bed and his waiting kennel.

Maybe she was overreacting. Okay, she was overreacting. Still, she didn’t want to hear what was next. She didn’t want to know about Click’s wife, his marriage, his perfect family life. If she was lucky, he’d sell Lynnie’s place and leave soon enough and she’d never have to see or hear the name Click Hale again. She hadn’t been lucky in a real long time.

“I take it you’re ready?” Renata asked, jogging to catch up.

She glared at her cousin, climbing into her truck and turning on the air-conditioning. “Scarlett coming?”

Renata nodded. “You sort of sprinted out of there.”

Tandy’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “He’s not coming, is he?” she managed.

“I don’t think so.” Renata’s hand gripped her forearm, squeezing gently. “I know things fell apart between you, but I’d like to think he’s still a little decent?”

Tandy rested her forehead on the steering wheel. “He...was.” But seeing his daughter made her pause. Fourteen months. What did that say about him? The sting of tears infuriated her. She’d been lost in anguish and guilt so heavy it had almost crushed her. He’d started a family.

More important, what did that say about the love he’d claimed to feel for her? She had yet to date, let alone think about being intimate with another man. If he’d really loved her the way he said he did, how could he? No matter what she said and did, the grief was there every second of every day—a gnawing, aching pain. How could he replace her? How could he replace their...their daughter so easily?

It hurt to breathe.

“You sure you guys want to do this?” Scarlett asked, pulling the truck door closed behind her.

“Yes,” Tandy said, throwing the truck in gear. She no longer doubted the logic behind Renata’s reasoning. “Absolutely sure.” A couple of shots were the only way she’d get any sleep tonight.

* * *

CLICK STOOD, STARING down the dirt road. The stone house was quiet now, too quiet. Only Brody and Miss Francis were left. And, suddenly, Click was in no hurry to see them go.

“What the hell was that about?” Brody asked. “You and Tandy?”

“How much time do you have?” Click asked, only partly teasing. He liked Brody Wallace well enough. Not that they’d spent a lot of time together—Brody’s parents worried about Click being a bad influence on their only son.

“Sure it’s hard on her,” Miss Francis said. “Poor thing is her age, without a man or child to care for. And then you show up, with a sweet little angel to boot.” She smiled at Pearl. “Can I?” she asked, holding out her hands.

Pearl didn’t object, so he didn’t either. After holding her for hours, it felt odd to have empty arms.

“First love is always the hardest to get over,” Miss Francis said, bouncing Pearl on her hip. “If I recall correctly, you two had it bad.”

Click didn’t correct the older woman. But he knew the truth. Tandy wasn’t jealous, she was disgusted. She couldn’t stand to be in his presence. She’d made that perfectly clear two years ago, so broken and withdrawn in that damn hospital bed. And now this—Pearl—so soon after... He could barely look himself in the eye.

Miss Francis was right about recovering, though. He’d met Tandy over twenty years ago, and she still made his heart skip a beat.

“When will Pearl’s mama be joining you?” Miss Francis asked.

“She won’t,” Click was quick to answer.

Georgia wouldn’t be visiting for some time. The drug treatment facility she’d signed herself into lasted a minimum of sixty days. He was proud of her for getting the help she desperately needed, but he was devastated that it had taken her so long to get it. Not that he’d known. He’d left Tandy in the hospital and headed to a bar. That drunken weekend with Georgia was a blur of alcohol and grief. He’d been out of his mind and broken. They’d parted ways at weekend’s end, and he hadn’t heard or seen her since. Until a week ago. Her phone call had changed his life.

“So you’re in this on your own?” Brody piped up.

Click sighed. “Yep.”

“This a new development?” Miss Francis asked. “Don’t get your tail feathers ruffled when I say this, but you look a little green when it comes to caretaking this baby.”

“That I am.” Click nodded, smiling at his daughter. One of Pearl’s little fingers worried the beadwork on Miss Francis’s sweater. “I was bringing Pearl here, counting on Lynnie to show me what to do. But now...” He shook his head, staring around the house. After chastising him for having a child out of wedlock, Lynnie would have been over the moon about Pearl. She loved babies, loved children. It was one of the great injustices of life that he’d been born to people like his parents while a woman like Lynnie Hale was childless.

“Oh, Lynnie would eat her up,” Miss Francis said, smiling at Pearl. “She’s the sweetest thing, Click. You’re a lucky man.”

He reminded himself of that regularly. Pearl was healthy. Considering Georgia’s drug problem, that was nothing short of a miracle. He had no way of knowing if she’d used through her pregnancy, no way of knowing what his daughter had been exposed to the first year of her life. He’d been hard-pressed to believe Pearl was his, but the DNA test had confirmed it, and Click stepped up. If he hadn’t, his daughter would be in CPS custody.

“I’m going to miss your Gramma Lynnie, too,” Miss Francis said to Pearl. “Who am I going to quilt with? Or go to ladies’ meetings with? Or drive me into Alpine now and then to shop—I hate driving in traffic.”

Click grinned. There was no traffic in Fort Kyle. There were four lights, around town square, and nothing else. Alpine wasn’t much bigger. “I’ll drive you.”

Miss Francis smiled. “I’ll take you up on that, Click.”

“Guess I should be heading out,” Brody said. “Not often I get a night out. Not that Fort Kyle’s nightlife can compare to the Dallas scene.”

“Enjoy it,” Click said.

Brody held his hand out. “I’m glad you’re back, Click, even if I’m sorry for the circumstances. It’ll be nice to have someone male from this generation around when I visit.”

Click shook his hand. “Thanks.”

Miss Francis laughed. “S’pose Fort Kyle is more for those already settled.”

Click looked at his daughter. He was settled now, as settled as he planned to get. He didn’t know where he and Pearl would end up, but he’d make sure she had a roof over her head and food in her little stomach. It wasn’t much, but it was more than he’d had growing up.

“Have fun,” Click said.

“Be safe,” Miss Francis joined in. “Roads get awful dark. Drinking’s not going to help.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Brody said, tipping his hat her way, and leaving.

Pearl cooed, her gurgling noises a mystery to him. But she looked so damn cute, all big eyes, button nose and bubble-blowing lips, he was hard-pressed not to laugh.

“You got what you need?” Miss Francis asked. “Baby supplies?”

He shrugged. “Still figuring that out. Diapers, wipes, food, bottles, formula, car seat and a foldable bed.”

“Clothing?” Miss Francis asked, her brow furrowing.

He nodded. “Enough.”

“I have four children and thirteen grandchildren, Click Hale. If you need a thing, I’m a phone call away, you hear me?” Miss Francis asked. “How long have you had her?”

“A week.”

Miss Francis stared at him. “A surprise?”

He nodded.

“You go take yourself a shower and a nap, if you want. Me and little miss here will do just fine.” Miss Francis waved him away. “Or, if you’re not tired, you go on and join Brody and the girls. Might do you some good to get out for a while.”

Click almost argued. Almost. “I’ll hit the shower.” He nodded, heading toward the guest room he’d always stayed in when he visited Lynnie. It didn’t feel right to stay in her room. He stood under the hot water and closed his eyes. He half expected her to bang on the bathroom door to remind him to get behind his ears—like she’d always done. Like he could get filthy behind his ears. He hadn’t minded, though. It’d been nice to know someone cared if he was clean or not.

The last week he’d showered with the curtain and bathroom door wide open—in case Pearl had needed him. He was terrified she’d climb out of her bed or get out of their hotel room or pull something dangerous into her crib. None of which made sense since he went a little overboard baby-proofing wherever they went. He had one job, keeping her safe. The money he’d saved up on the rodeo circuit, first riding pickup then scouting stock, was enough to get by on for now. He planned on staying at Lynnie’s place for a while, until he had to leave. He hoped he had some regrouping time before that happened.

He climbed out of the shower and dried off. He ran a hand over his tattoo, a barbed-wire band circling his upper left arm. Tandy’s name was forever inked on his skin. With a sigh, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed into his bedroom. But lying on the bed, staring at the spinning ceiling fan overhead, wasn’t relaxing. His brain was too caught up in sifting through the events of the day.

He ran a hand through his wet hair and sat up.

He should stay put. Miss Francis was giving him time to sleep, without jumping up every time Pearl squeaked or fussed. If he lay there long enough, his mind would shut off and he’d get some sleep. That’s what he should do.

He should not get up, drive his sorry ass into Fort Kyle and straight to the Tumbleweed. He should not make this day worse than it already was. She didn’t want him there. Hell, she’d all but run from the house when Brody mentioned it. Going would do nothing but make him hurt worse.

He snorted, doubting that was possible. Besides, pain was part of his daily life. It reminded him he was alive and breathing. His mind wandered immediately to her.

Tandy.

The three seconds she’d looked at him... His heart had thumped in his chest, every nerve alive and firing. He swallowed, remembering every detail of her face. Eyes so deep and rich he’d happily drown in their hazel-green depths. Golden hair thick and soft, silk beneath the fingers, he knew. Her smile, for Pearl, had been so bright. That’s what Tandy was—the light in his otherwise dark life.

Chapter Three

“Are you sure you don’t want another one?” Renata was already waving down the bartender.

“I’m sure.” Tandy covered Renata’s hand with her own. “How many fingers am I holding up?” She held up four fingers and waited.

Renata frowned, her eyes narrowing then going wide. “Three? Four? I’m so not drunk.”

Tandy gripped her cousin’s arm to keep her from slipping off the bar stool. “Right.”

“But this is the last one,” their cousin Scarlett joined in, giggling. “Here’s to a long-overdue cousin reunion.”

It had been a long time since they’d been together. Since the summer between junior and senior year. Uncle Woodrow sent her home—so ashamed of her behavior she wondered if she’d ever be welcome at Fire Gorge again. Since then, life and distance got in the way. Renata lived in Stonewall Crossing with her father—Uncle Teddy—and her brothers. Scarlett called Fort Kyle home, helping her parents run their dude ranch: Fire Gorge. Unlike her cousins, Tandy wanted to stay as far away from her mother and her childhood home in Montana as possible.

“Too long.” Tandy lifted her almost-empty beer bottle. “To cousins.” Her bottle clinked against Scarlett’s bottle and Renata’s refilled shot glass. They might be cousins, but Tandy had always considered them more like sisters. And best friends.

“Looks like I’ll have to move here, too,” Renata said, downing her shot and slamming it against the bar.

Tandy winced. “I’m still considering this a trial run. No roots are being planted, not yet.” Especially now that Click was in town. Not thinking about Click.

“Have you ever planted roots?” Scarlett asked, her large blue eyes clear. She had yet to finish her first beer.

Tandy shrugged. “Guess not. Not in ground I’d picked anyway.”

“Here’s to picking your own ground,” Renata said, raising her empty shot glass. “Hey,” she murmured, looking inside.

“You just drank it.” Tandy nudged Scarlett. Renata had definitely exceeded her limit.

Scarlett nodded, giggling again. “Yep, good toast.”

Renata smiled a wobbly smile.

“Now it’s time to head out.” Scarlett’s giggles came from an even mix of amusement and worry. Amusement over Renata’s state and worry over being caught, out so late and drinking.

Scarlett’s father, Uncle Woodrow, tended to keep a ridiculously tight rein on his kids—on all of them—even if they were all grown. Unlike her beloved uncle Teddy, Woodrow Boone had always been an overbearing pain in the rear, and some things never changed.

Tandy was willing to overlook his control issues since he’d helped her get this job. A good-paying job, doing something she loved to do, in a place she had some of her very best memories in. Fort Kyle held a special place in her heart. Moving here to help Uncle Woodrow’s buddy out at the local vet clinic was the best offer she’d received in a long time. And since Tandy had received her second thanks-but-no-thanks letter from the veterinary school in Stonewall Crossing, she took Uncle Woodrow’s offer as a sign.

Until today. Today had made everything topsy-turvy in her head.

“Guess the drinking didn’t help?” Scarlett asked, studying her.

Tandy sighed, smiling. “Sorry.” Relaxing just wasn’t in the cards for tonight.

Renata sniffed. “Maybe one more?”

Tandy shook her head. One more drink would give her a hangover—one more thing to deal with. Her sadness wasn’t going anywhere. It pressed, cold and heavy, into her bones. Lynnie Hale was gone. Even though it had been years since she’d sat in the dear woman’s kitchen, she was devastated. Lynnie had been more of a mother to her than the woman who had birthed her.

“It’s getting late. Lynnie wouldn’t approve of you being hungover because of her passing.” Scarlett’s attempt to guilt Renata into action failed.

They all knew the older woman would find it hilarious. Lynnie had had a wonderful sense of humor and a laugh that rolled over you like warm sunshine.

“You’d rather, what, go to bed? We’re young...attractive... Let’s live a little.” Renata hiccuped, all rosy cheeked and adorable.

Tandy wasn’t the only one hurting, but she didn’t know how to make it better. Aside from Lynnie’s passing, Renata was nursing a broken heart. Well, maybe not broken, but sore. She’d been dating rodeo emcee Mitchell Lee on and off for a few months now. He’d called the night before to tell her he wasn’t going to be in town for a while so she was free to date whomever she wanted. Renata wasn’t taking it well. Her six shots of tequila were proof of that.

“Fort Kyle isn’t exactly a late-night hot spot.” Tandy pointed around the dwindling crowd at the one and only bar in forty miles. The Tumbleweed sat right outside Fort Kyle’s city limits. It wasn’t officially a dry county, but the locals didn’t approve of excessive social drinking. If you were out drinking late, everyone in town knew about it the next day.

Another reason Scarlett was probably getting nervous. “And we still have to drive back.”

“Sing with me,” Renata pleaded. “One song and we’ll go.” But her attempt to slide off the bar stool had her gripping the counter and swaying where she stood. “Or you two sing.”

Scarlett said, watching Renata closely, “You need bed. And water. And probably some Tylenol.”

“Tandy?” Renata asked. “Please?”

She was tired and her head was starting to hurt, but she considered it. “By myself?” The Tumbleweed’s karaoke night had consisted of five singers, all of whom sang loudly and off-key. She couldn’t do much worse.

“Sing ‘Cowboy Take Me Away’? It’s our song, remember?” Renata’s smile wobbled.

Tandy and Scarlett exchanged a look. How could she forget?

“Then we can go?” Tandy asked.

“Then we can go.” Renata nodded, a little too quickly—her hands gripping the bar to steady herself.

“I’m going to get you some water.” Scarlett marched down the bar to the bartender.

“She’s a little uptight,” Renata mumbled. “You’ll have to help with that.”

Tandy winked at her, patting Renata’s arm. Scarlett could use a little more fun in her life. Maybe not six-shots-of-tequila fun, but fun. Hell, so could Tandy. Now that her late nights of studying and babysitting the newest crop of Boone nieces and nephews and cousins were behind her, she had a pretty clear social calendar.

“The room is spinning,” Renata muttered, swaying where she stood.

“No, that would be the shots.” Tandy steadied her. “I’m really sorry about Mitchell.”

“His loss,” Scarlett said, pressing a water glass into Renata’s hand. “Drink.”

Renata’s nose wrinkled, but she took a long swallow.

“He’s an idiot. You don’t want to be saddled with an idiot for the rest of your life.” Tandy grinned. “You have brothers for that.”

Renata burst out laughing. “So many brothers.”

Tandy nodded. She thought her twin brother, Toben, was a handful. Renata had a twin brother and three more to boot.

“Sorry we’re late,” Brody said. “My dad’s nurse called, almost quit—again—so had to do an emergency intervention there. That woman is the only person he’ll listen to. I’ll bankrupt the ranch to keep her with us.” He broke off, smiling. “What did we miss?”

Tandy was trying not to acknowledge that we included Click. Had he somehow misinterpreted her quick exit? Did he think seeing a woman sprinting away was some sort of hard-to-get routine? Her anger was back and warming her belly, mixing well with the two shots she’d knocked back sometime before.

Yes, her mad dash from Lynnie’s wasn’t the most mature way to handle things, but Click’s daughter had been a surprise. Tandy had known he’d be here. As soon as Scarlett told them about Lynnie, she’d known he’d be here and she’d be forced to see him. It had been enough to make her consider driving back to Stonewall Crossing. But how the hell could she do that without stirring up suspicion? She couldn’t. And besides, she wouldn’t do that to Lynnie.

But now... Now, here he was, again, raining on their girls’ night out. It might not have been all that good to start with, but he had no right to be here.

“I wasn’t sure you’d make it,” Scarlett said to Brody, casting a nervous glance between her and Click.

Tandy forced herself to keep breathing. She wouldn’t think about today, his beautiful fourteen-month-old baby girl, or the urge to scream bubbling up in her throat. She’d try not to look at him, try not to hear the deep rumble of his voice.

“How’s life, Scarlett?” There was that rumble.

Her hands clenched at her side.

“You know, nothing new ever happens around here. Not really. Family drama gets old after a while.” Scarlett smiled, shrugged.

Tandy agreed. Uncle Woodrow and Aunt Evelyn had always been good at dramatics. She’d started visiting summer break after kindergarten. How many nights had she and her cousins sat on the stairs, listening to Woodrow and Evelyn carry on about who’d done them wrong this time. She’d been mesmerized at first. Evelyn was so pretty and Woodrow this big bear of a man. Their rants had lost their appeal when they’d started to nitpick and criticize her and her brother. Even then, Tandy admired how devoted the two were to one another. While the world might be against them—or so they claimed—they never turned on one another. Her mother had no one to vent to. Maybe that’s why she’d ended up the way she was.

Click’s soft chuckle made her stomach ache. Being here, in a bar, with Click—and her cousins—felt wrong. And right—familiar. She needed a way out. The only immediate exit plan was to sing.

Scarlett was talking. “I’ve missed you two so much. It’s nice to all be together again, even heartsick as we all are. Lynnie would like that... Her little misses together.”

“Stirring up trouble,” Renata added.

“She would,” Brody agreed.

Tandy did her best to act calm, all the while aware of every move Click made. It was infuriating—to be so damn responsive to the man. And not all the responses were bad. She knew better. Why had he come? From the corner of her eye, she saw his bright blue-green eyes sweep over her, saw his jaw clench before his gaze darted away.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Click? You there?” Renata asked, narrowing her eyes and peering at him. “Um, ’s that you, Click?”

“It’s me, Renata.” One dark brow shot up. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Six shots.” Scarlett wrinkled up her nose.

“Gonna feel that in the morning.” Click took the hand Renata held out, steadying her when she would have slid to the floor. “Need a hand out to the truck?” His gaze caught Tandy’s then bounced away, his jaw tight.

“No, no, no.” Renata shook her head. “Can’t yet. Tandy’s gonna sing. She promised.”

She’d do it, if she had to. But she was open to other alternatives. “Renata—”

“You promised, Tandy.” Renata frowned at them both. “Stop being so...weird. It makes me sad, to see you two like this.” Renata’s blue eyes were full of tears. “Ya’ll had to go and screw it up...when me and Scarlett had the perfect wedding planned.”

Tandy had two options: anger or humor. Her anger was a little too unhinged, so that probably wasn’t the best move. Once she started yelling, she might never be able to stop. Humor was the kinder choice, especially considering what they’d all been through today. So she took a long swig off her beer and laughed, letting her frustration bubble up and out. It helped—a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sure he is sorry, too.” She glanced at him, regretting it the instant his gaze met hers.

“I might get married again,” Brody offered. “Someday. You can plan my wedding.”

Renata was all smiles then. “You mean that, Brody? You’re the sweetest.”

Tandy shot Brody a grateful look. “Time to get this over with.” She shook her head and planted a kiss on Renata’s cheek. “If you remember this tomorrow, you’d better be prepared to apologize,” she whispered in Renata’s ear.

“I won’t.” Renata gripped Tandy’s shoulders. “You love to sing, Tandy. Always have. Go on, sing. For me.” She swayed back, blinking. “Besides, we could all use some cheering up, couldn’t we, Click?”

Tandy hadn’t meant to look at him, but his expression caught her off guard. He looked so sad.

Click blew out a long, slow breath. “I could.”

“See?” Renata’s grin was wobbly again. “Go sing. Before I start crying again.”

Tandy bit back her rising frustration.

“Can’t stand to see a woman cry.” Click’s voice was rough, his jaw tightened again.

Tandy flinched, digging deep to lock up all the pain and anger he stirred. The guilt was harder to shut off—but she managed. She could do this. She could make it through the next few days without losing it. She’d always been an expert at burying her feelings way down deep, thanks to her mother. Losing Click, losing their baby girl, had tested that—but she’d survived. That’s what she’d been doing ever since: surviving.

* * *

CLICK STARED AT her, wishing he’d had time to prepare for this. For Tandy. Not that he was ever prepared for her. Something about her grabbed hold of him deep inside, waking him up, making him feel alive. Even when they were kids, she’d been an unexpected force—all acceptance and support, easy smiles and easier conversation. She’d been different. And important.

He remembered the morning they’d met down to the details. She’d been a little thing, a few years younger in age and spirit. Long braids, rips in the knees of both jeans, her soft voice lifted in song and four puppies trailing behind her. She’d been picking wildflowers to make necklaces for her cousins.

After one especially bad episode, his father had passed out drunk and his mother had driven all through the night to get Click to safety. She’d dumped him at the end of Lynnie’s drive and sped off. He’d slept in the bushes, too sore and too tired to make it down Lynnie’s long drive. He was black-and-blue, dirty and bleary-eyed. But Tandy had taken one look at him, smiled and offered him a puppy.

“She’ll love you forever,” Tandy had said, holding the black-and-white ball of fluff toward him. “Wanna go for a walk with me?”

From then on, Click was like those puppies, following Tandy wherever she went. He’d gladly follow her today, if she’d let him.

He slammed his beer bottle on the bar and swallowed down the old hurt choking him. He’d done this to himself, as always. He’d come here tonight expecting what? A third chance? To see something in Tandy’s gaze that gave him hope?

“You okay?” Brody asked.

He nodded. “Tired.” His gaze bounced from Scarlett to Renata, both watching Tandy as she made her way to the stage on the far side of the bar. Tandy’s voice still haunted his dreams, soft and sultry, a husky vulnerability that demanded attention. This would be torture, wonderful, horrible torture.

“She good?” Brody asked.

“She’s amazing,” Scarlett said. “I’m not just saying that because she’s my cousin either.”

Brody chuckled.

Tandy took the stage, picking up a classic wooden six-string guitar. It looked more prop than instrument, but Tandy plucked and tuned until she was smiling. She shaded her hazel-green eyes and stared at the bar, smiling at Renata. “This is for the only momma I ever knew.”

Click nodded, her words echoing his loss. Lynnie was that for him, as well.

Tandy’s fingers plucked magic from those strings, the music filling the now-silent bar. When she opened her mouth, Click sat on the bar stool. Her voice, those words, left him spellbound.

Nobody sang “Cowboy Take Me Away” like Tandy. Nobody. The rasp of her voice drew every eye her way, pulled them in and left the audience mesmerized.

“Damn.” Brody stared at him.

He nodded, swallowing back the sting in his eyes and the tightness in his throat. Tandy’s voice was unexpected, in the best sense. When the chorus came, Scarlett and Renata joined in.

He smiled, unable to look away from Tandy. She sang, tossing her long hair and closing those eyes as the song came from inside her, for Lynnie. He felt it, the grief and love and gratitude blended together into something raw and beautiful. As she plucked out the last notes of the song, Click was on his feet, whistling loudly. He wasn’t the only one. Her performance was impossible to ignore.

She bowed, placed the guitar back against the wall and crossed the stage.

“Let’s go, Renata,” Scarlett said. “Tandy sang your song. Now let’s get you home.”

“The boys just got here,” Renata argued.

“Renata.” Scarlett’s whisper wasn’t soft enough to miss. “Tandy’s barely keeping it together.”

Click’s gaze searched out Tandy then. Because of him?

“Oops.” Renata pushed off the bar then tipped forward.

Click caught her, swinging her up in his arms. “Gotcha.”

Renata blinked. “Course you do.” She frowned. “I’m not sure what you did to Tandy, Click Hale, but I’m mad at you.”

Click nodded.

But Renata wasn’t done. “How’re we all supposed to grow old together? With you two hating each other.”

Her words gutted him. Hate? Tandy hated him?

“Don’t you know how special she is?” Renata asked, her voice rising.

He nodded again. He knew. Damn he knew. He woke up every morning knowing—regretting.

“Renata! Stop talking,” Scarlett said, horrified. “Maybe you should let Brody carry her?”

“I can walk,” Renata argued.

“Didn’t work too well last time you tried,” Click said. “Stay put. I’ll get you to the truck.”

“This way,” Scarlett said, leading him from the bar. “Brody, can you send Tandy out? Let her know what’s...up.”

Click followed, doing his best to act like Renata hadn’t wounded him. Not that Renata meant any harm. She was drunk, not thinking clearly. Still, there was a ring of truth to her words.

“I got the door.” Scarlett held the truck door wide, stepping aside so he could deposit Renata on the back seat of the four-door truck.

As soon as he’d put her in the truck, Renata listed to the side, resting her head on a pile of suitcases.

He paused, stunned by the appearance of Banshee. He was in the truck bed, staring down at him, tail thumping. Click had given Tandy the dog when he was a puppy—their first baby she’d said. “Hey, Banshee,” he said, holding his hand out. “Grew into those paws, I see.”

Banshee groaned, leaning into Click’s strong rubdown.

Scarlett slammed the door and stared up at him. “Click, don’t listen to her. I’ve never seen her this drunk. She’ll feel terrible, hurting you.”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, giving Banshee’s head and neck a good rub.

“No, you’re not.” Scarlett shook her head. “I’m not going to chastise you but... I don’t know what happened between you and Tandy either. Drunk or not, I agree with Renata on this. Neither one of you is okay, and it makes my heart hurt—for both of you.”

Click shook his head, searching for the right thing to say. “It’ll get easier in time.” Every day he woke up hoping that would be the case.

Scarlett squeezed his upper arm. “Glad you’re back. Planning on staying for a while? Can I drop by and visit you and your new family?”

“Pearl and I would like that, Scarlett.” He grinned, giving Banshee a final pat. “Not sure what’s next, but you can stop by anytime.” He headed back to the bar. The same time Tandy was headed out.

When she saw him, she paused—her posture going rigid and stiff.

Dammit. He kept on going, his heart picking up with every step he took. He’d made a mistake tonight, coming here. He wouldn’t do it again. Should he tell her as much? Let her know he’d do his best to stay out of her way? Because seeing the effect he had on her dragged up all the self-loathing and shame he couldn’t face right now. One good thing about being Pearl’s father—it forced him to keep his shit together.

He tipped his hat as they passed, offering her some sort of greeting, and kept going. It was hard. Damn hard.

“Click.” Her voice carried on the wind, bringing him to an abrupt stop. “I—I’m sorry about Lynnie,” Tandy said. “She was a gift to us all.”

He nodded his head but didn’t turn. “You all going to be able to get home okay?”

“Yes.”

He glanced back, knowing it was a mistake, knowing he’d regret it later. Later. Not now. She took his breath away.

“We’ll be fine...thanks.” She hesitated, her gaze finding his.

Damn if he wasn’t caught, held tightly by his love for this woman. “Night, then,” he murmured.

“Night,” she repeated, heading toward the waiting truck.

He made his way inside, taking the beer Brody offered him and sitting at the bar.

“Something about the Boone women,” Brody said, shaking his head. “Once they get under your skin, you can’t get them out.”

Click grinned. “I’ll drink to that.” Loving Tandy had been the greatest gift of his life, something he’d known he didn’t deserve but couldn’t bring himself to point out. It had been his greatest secret, one he’d protected for most of his youth. Hadn’t she known she was better than him? He’d almost told her again and again. Until the summer she’d kissed him and he’d stopped caring. Seventeen and bold, fearless and desperate—that she’d felt the same had blown him away. That was the last summer Tandy had come to Fire Gorge. Uncle Woodrow had made sure of that.

“How’s India?” Click asked. All the years he’d been carrying a torch for Tandy, Brody had been pining for Scarlett’s sister, India. Not that Brody had ever acted on it. Or India Boone had the slightest idea.

Brody’s laugh was startled. “Moved back not too long ago.”

“That so?” Click stared at the man. “See her yet?”

He shook his head, taking a long swig off his beer.

“She still has no idea?” Click asked.

Brody’s narrow-eyed look said it all. “Nobody does.”

Click chuckled. “Can’t decide if that’s better or worse. Having her and losing her or...” He shook his head. “Never having her.” He shrugged. “Cuts both ways I guess.” As much as he regretted the loss and hurt they’d experienced, he couldn’t regret the love they’d shared. In the short time Tandy had been his, he’d loved a lifetime. All the dreams and plans they’d shared were gone, but not forgotten.

Now he had something new to dream and plan for. He had Pearl. And his little girl deserved all the love and dreams and attention he could give her.

Chapter Four

“It’s so good to see you.” Aunt Evelyn leaned around the table to hug her awkwardly, again. “When Uncle Woodrow said you were coming, I cried.”

“She did,” Scarlett agreed.

Tandy smiled, taking a bite of her pancakes.

“I hated parting with you that way,” Aunt Evelyn sniffed. “Hated not having you girls all together for the summertime.”

Tandy kept her smile firmly in place. That summer had changed everything. She’d been sent home, embarrassed, because of her inappropriate relationship with Click Hale. If being sixteen and kissing a boy she was sweet on was inappropriate. Her mother had never let her forget how humiliated she was by Tandy’s behavior. Or how lucky she was her uncle stopped things from getting out of control.

“Let it go, Evelyn,” Uncle Woodrow snapped, patting her hand gruffly. “Tandy’s grown up. She’s got a good head on her shoulders now.”

Tandy didn’t let the now get to her. “Guess I’ll drive into town today, meet Dr. Edwards and see the clinic.”

Woodrow frowned. “It’s Saturday. Closed up.”

“Saturday and Sunday?” she asked, stunned. Weekends were emergencies only at the veterinarian hospital in Stonewall Crossing, but it was normally pretty busy.

“His nephew takes care of the boarders through the weekend. Don’t see much point in you making the drive into town.” Woodrow sat back, dropping his napkin across his plate.

“You’ll have to stay in one of the hunting cabins for now,” Woodrow continued. “They’re still updating the wiring in the Garden Cottage. Hope to have it ready in a week or two.”

“How was the funeral?” Aunt Evelyn asked.

“Good turnout,” Scarlett said. “Brody came, but his father didn’t.”

Meaning her aunt and uncle hadn’t come to the funeral because they didn’t want to run into Mr. Wallace? Tandy took a sip of her coffee, eager for breakfast to be over.

“Lynnie Hale was an amazing woman,” Aunt Evelyn said.

“She was stubborn,” Uncle Woodrow mumbled.

Tandy bit back a grin then. She remembered how frustrated Woodrow got with Lynnie the few times his cows brought down her fences or when she’d let him water his cattle at her spring—on her terms.

“She had to be.” Aunt Evelyn sipped her tea. “To hold her own with the men hereabouts.”

Tandy agreed. From Scarlett’s nod, so did she. She wished Renata was here. She made conversation seem easy. But Renata’s hangover had other plans, like staying in a dark, silent room in bed.

“Breakfast was wonderful,” Tandy said, ready to get the day started. “Guess I’ll head out to the hunting cabin and start unpacking.”

“Take her to the south field. Best shape,” Uncle Woodrow said, not looking up from his coffee.

“When he says best shape, that’s not saying much,” Scarlett whispered.

Tandy laughed. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Good, good.” Uncle Woodrow nodded. “Dinner is at six, around the campfire. Booked solid, so join us.”

“Thanks for the invite.” Tandy smiled.

Both of her uncles ran successful guest ranches. Most of her summer holidays and school breaks were spent at one of the two places. She knew hard work was required to keep things successful. Uncle Teddy’s Lodge was more a large-scale bed-and-breakfast. They offered low-key excursions like birding and wildlife walks, horseback rides, hayrides and the occasional campfire.

“Bring your guitar, too, Tandy. Nothing says cowboy like a serenade under a sky full of stars,” Uncle Woodrow added. “Should be a clear night.”

“Will do,” Tandy agreed. For some reason, singing to strangers was always easier.

Unlike Uncle Teddy’s Lodge, there was nothing low-key about Fire Gorge Dude Ranch. The large-scale ranch brought people from all over the world to experience the Wild West firsthand. They had over-the-top theme nights, a mock cattle drive, dances and overnight trail expeditions for those who really wanted to “rough it.” The last few years, Uncle Woodrow added upscale dining, yoga and fitness classes, and a spa for those “city folk willing to spend big money for mud baths and fancy food.” It seemed to be working—business was definitely booming.

Tandy suspected the dude ranch existed mostly to keep Evelyn happy. Her aunt loved talking and meeting new people. Her uncle hated travel almost as much as he hated strangers and lengthy conversations. The fact that the dude ranch kept his wife happy and brought in a pretty penny was a bonus her uncle surely appreciated. But their real wealth came from the oil they’d discovered some years back. That and the cattle Uncle Woodrow kept.

“If you need a thing, you let me know,” Aunt Evelyn said.

“I’m sure it will suit just fine.” Tandy smiled.

Scarlett trailed behind her from the dining room, speaking only once they were out of earshot. “Something’s up.”

“I sort of got that,” Tandy said. “As long as I have four walls, running water and some electricity, Banshee and I will be fine.”

“That might be all you have.” Scarlett shook her head. “That cabin is in rough shape.”

Thirty minutes later, she, Scarlett and a bleary-eyed Renata bounced down the rutted dirt road to her new home. Tandy’s enthusiasm nosedived. The cabin was one room—and in need of substantial TLC. But the bed was big and comfy and there were large windows in three of the four walls. The fourth wall was the kitchen, a collection of burnt-orange appliances and curling wallpaper. A pop-up table was built into the wall, collapsing flat when not in use. Two wooden chairs hung on pegs from the wall to prevent overcluttering the space. To say furniture was minimal was an understatement. The only additional piece was a large recliner. She could function with her closet-sized bathroom. At least there was a teeny-tiny shower stall, a toilet and a sink that dripped. None of that was the problem.

What bothered her was the view.

This was the sad cabin she’d spied from Lynnie’s back porch. Now, Lynnie’s house occupied the majority of one window. Not just any window either. If she lay on her big comfy bed, that was her view.

“No curtains?” she asked Scarlett.

“We’ll head into town and shop.” Scarlett shook her head. “Might as well start a list.”

“I’ll stay here and hold down the bed,” Renata offered, collapsing into the armchair.

Banshee sniffed his way around the perimeter of the room and sat, staring at her.

“Pass inspection?” she asked Banshee. “No rats? Or snakes?”

“Or armadillos,” Scarlett added. “I hate armadillos.”

Banshee’s tail thumped.

“Doesn’t look like it. Good news,” Tandy said, rubbing her dog behind the ear and refusing to look out the window. Here she was, surrounded by an ocean of waving gold grass and wildflowers and rugged cliffs. Yet, just beyond the barbed-wire fence sat Lynnie’s house. And Click’s large gray truck.

“Lightbulbs,” Renata said, pointing at the ceiling fan overhead. The light fixture was bare.

“And candles,” Scarlett said, looking under the sink. “I’m thinking you’ll lose power whenever a storm rolls through. Candles are cheaper than batteries.”

Tandy grinned. Leave it to her ridiculously wealthy cousin to be cost-conscious. “Candles sound good. And matches.” She opened the small wood-burning stove built into the far wall. “Wood, too, I guess.”

“How about we bring in your gear and see what’s missing,” Renata said from the chair. “And when I say we, it’s understood that I’m not moving from this chair.”

Tandy laughed.

“Maybe you can bring in the bedding first?” she groaned, draping an arm across her eyes.

Scarlett giggled. “That’ll teach you.”

“Oh, I’ve learned my lesson, I promise,” Renata moaned. “No tequila. And no men. We should start a club.”

Tandy shook her head. “I’m getting my stuff.” She propped the front door open and headed for her truck, Banshee at her heels. “What do you think?” she asked him. “Lots of room to run. Peace and quiet—”

Banshee whimpered, staring at the fence line.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, following his gaze.

The hot West Texas wind carried the distinct sound of crying to her. A baby crying. She slowed, glancing at Lynnie’s house. Click was there, slowly making his way around Lynnie’s porch with Pearl in his arms. He was bouncing her, almost dancing with her—but Pearl kept right on crying.

Banshee whimpered again. He loved kids—loved them. Tandy had taken him to every babysitting gig she’d had, so it was a natural development. Somehow the dog had determined that, since he lacked a herd to care for, his job was wrangling babies and children. And now there was a baby in need. The dog stared at her, golden eyes shimmering.

“Hate to point this out, but you’re my dog,” she said. But poor Pearl was wailing. Her dog wasn’t the only one with a weakness for children. She sighed and gave up. “Go on.”

Banshee took off, his tawny coat a flash in the tall grass, knocking wildflowers flat as he made a beeline for Pearl. Tandy waited. The minute Banshee reached Lynnie’s porch, he barked and ran around Click’s long legs. Pearl’s wails came to an abrupt stop.

And Click laughed.

She swallowed hard and turned back to her truck, tugging her bag from the back with so much force, she wound up falling on her butt. She sat there, fighting laughter—and tears—taking slow calming breaths.

“What can I carry?” Scarlett asked. “You okay?”

She pushed off the ground. “I’m fine. A dork, but fine. Grab what you can.” She grinned. “Bedding is in that suitcase.”

Scarlett reached inside for the bag. “You sure you’re going to be okay out here?”

“It’s not so bad,” Tandy said, inspecting the small cabin. Truth be told, it would be nice to have the space.

“I’m not talking about the cabin.” She nodded at her neighbors. “What if he stays?”

Tandy shook her head, impersonating her uncle Woodrow as she said, “Let’s not put the cart in front of the horse.”

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Renata said from her spot, leaning against the door frame.

“It was scary good,” Scarlett agreed.

Tandy smiled, hooking her backpack over one shoulder and lugging a large suitcase with the other. She’d lived too much of her life worrying over Click Hale. That was going to stop, now.

* * *

CLICK SHIFTED PEARL to his hip and unhooked the gate between Lynnie’s and Woodrow Boone’s properties. A gate he had put in years before. It was rusty after sitting so long, but a solid push had it swinging open. How many times had he and the girls met up after the moon was high? They’d been damn lucky never to have run into a rattlesnake or javelina—or any other trouble. Those were happy memories. When he came to Lynnie’s, he’d pretend that this was his home and life was easy and carefree.

“Da-gee,” Pearl said, reaching for Banshee and kicking her little legs.

“Doggie.” Click nodded, repeating her words.

She smiled at him. “Da-gee. Do-gee. Da-gee.”

He laughed. “You like that doggie?”

Banshee stopped, looked back at them and took off.

“He wants us to follow him,” Click explained. He didn’t know enough about babies to know if Pearl listened or not. Half the time he thought she understood everything he said. Others, not so much. Like when he was trying to rock her to sleep at 2:00 a.m.

“Da-gee?” she asked, leaning forward in his arms, searching for Banshee.

“He’s over there,” Click said, pointing. “Right there. Banshee,” he called.

Banshee came trotting back.

“Da-gee!” Pearl squealed.

Banshee barked, making Pearl jump. Click smiled at her wide, startled eyes.

“Doggie said hi,” he said. “Say hi, Pearl.”

Clearly, his daughter wasn’t sure she liked the barking part of the dog. Her little mouth was puckered. The excited kicking and hand waving had stalled out, too.

“Hi, doggie,” he repeated, smiling. “Hi.”

She looked at him. “Hee, da-gee.”

Banshee barked.

“See, he likes it.” Click nodded.

Pearl nodded. Whether she was agreeing with him or doing what he did, he wasn’t sure. But she wasn’t crying, so he was satisfied. How she’d react to leaving Banshee with Tandy was another matter. How something so little could make such a loud noise was beyond him. Pearl had champion lungs.

“Howdy,” Scarlett said.

He nodded. “Banshee showed up. Didn’t want Tandy worrying over him.”

“I sent him,” Tandy said, patting the dog on the back. “Sounded like Pearl needed some distracting. He loves kids.”

Click couldn’t have been more surprised. “You sent him?”

She glanced his way, barely. “He gets upset when he hears a baby cry.”

“That makes two of us,” he said.

Did she smile? A small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

He knelt, holding Pearl’s hands while she found her footing. Banshee ran up, sniffing her up one way and down the other. Pearl thought this was hilarious—even when she ended up sitting in the grass.

“Banshee.” Tandy’s tone was soft. “Gentle.”

Banshee looked at Tandy and sat, then resumed staring at Pearl.

“He’s smart.” Click was impressed.

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