# Wyoming Winter

Diana Palmer

There's something about those Wyoming men… New York Times bestselling author Diana Palmer returns with a brand-new tale of desire and deception Working his vast Wyoming ranch is all security expert JC Calhoun wants now. His land is the only thing the betrayed rancher cares about after discovering his fiancée is pregnant by another man. But all cynical JC holds dear becomes compromised when a lost little girl leads him to Colie Jackson, the woman who ruined his life.Colie stops at nothing to protect the people she loves. Years ago, she left JC for his own good. Now, for the sake of her daughter, she must depend on the hard-headed man who won't forgive her. As ruthless criminals track their every move through the freezing Wyoming winter, Colie and JC will be forced to confront the lies that separated them – and the startling truth that binds them forever…

Praise for the novels of New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author

DIANA PALMER

“Lots of passion, thrills, and plenty of suspense… a top-notch read!”

Romance Reviews Today

“Diana Palmer is a mesmerising storyteller who captures the essence of what a romance should be.”

Affaire de Coeur

“Diana Palmer is one of those authors whose books are always enjoyable. She throws in romance, suspense and a good story line.”

The Romance Reader on Before Sunrise

“A delightful romance with interesting new characters and many familiar faces.”

RT Book Reviews on Wyoming Tough

Also available by Diana Palmer

Wyoming Men

Wyoming Tough

Wyoming Fierce

Wyoming Bold

Wyoming Strong

Wyoming Rugged

Wyoming Brave

Wyoming Winter

Untamed

A Husband for Christmas

Invincible

White Christmas

Undaunted

And in e-Book:

Hunter

To Have and to Hold

Miss Greenhorn

Reluctant Father

Betrayed by Love

His Girl Friday

Hoodwinked

Heart of Ice

Blind Promises

Diamond Spur

Eye of the Tiger

Champagne Girl

The Morcai Battalion

The Morcai Battalion: The Recruit

The Morcai Battalion: Invictus

Wyoming Winter

Diana Palmer


www.millsandboon.co.uk

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The prolific author of more than 100 books, DIANA PALMER got her start as a newspaper reporter. A multi–New York Times bestselling author and one of the top ten romance writers in America, she has a gift for telling the most sensual tales with charm and humour. Diana lives with her family in Cornelia, Georgia.

Visit her website at www.DianaPalmer.com

Contents

Cover

Praise

Booklist

Title Page

About the Author

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

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

COLIE THOMPSON WAS in a mild panic. Her brother, Rodney, was bringing over his friend J.C. Calhoun. J.C. was thirty-two, pretty much at the end of his Army Reserve service—the cutoff age was thirty-two. He and Rodney had met in Iraq, almost four years ago. Both men were with the same Army unit. Rodney was serving his first tour of duty. J.C.’s Army Reserve unit had been called up for limited duty, and he was assigned to the same area as Rodney. In one of those wild coincidences, they started talking and discovered that they lived in the same Wyoming town, J.C. having taken a job with another Catelow resident, Ren Colter, whom he’d met during his first tour of duty. Rodney looked up to J.C., who was a little older. The older man had been a police officer before he went into the Army the first time, almost twelve years earlier.

Rodney left the Army before his tour of duty was officially up, never saying why. He’d been home for several months. After J.C. finished his overseas duty, he came home with him sometimes, although they’d grown apart since Rodney started a new job. They still went around together, but not often. One memorable visit to the Thompson home was on Colie’s birthday, when J.C. had unexpectedly given her a cat. It was the high point of her recent life. She named the huge Siamese cat Big Tom and it slept on her bed every night.

Even though he didn’t come home with Rodney much, Colie often saw J.C. around Catelow, which was a small and very clannish town. There were only a couple of restaurants, and Colie, whose real name was Colleen, worked as a receptionist and typist for a law firm downtown. Inevitably, she saw J.C. from time to time, occasionally with her brother. And since he was single, and handsome, and mostly avoided women, he was the subject of much gossip.

He always made time to talk to Colie if he saw her. He was polite, teasing, friendly. He made her glow inside. Once, when he brought Rod home after his car had quit, J.C. had helped her into her jacket when she was going outside to get the mail. Just the touch of his hands was like an explosion of pleasure. The more she saw of him, the more she wanted him.

Rodney had invited J.C. to come to supper before this, but he’d always had an excuse. This time, he accepted. It had been just after Colie had started walking back to the office, in the snow, and J.C. had stopped and given her a ride the rest of the way. Sitting with him, in the cozy warmth of the big black SUV he drove, she’d been hesitant to get out again. They’d talked about the upcoming presidential election, the state of the country, the beauty of Catelow in the snow. He’d teased her about wearing high heels to work instead of sensible boots, with snow already piling up, and she’d retorted that boots would hardly complement the pretty pantsuit she was wearing. He’d pursed his lips and looked at her, long and hard, and said Colie would look good in anything. She’d gone inside the law office, reluctantly, flushed and beaming after the unexpected pleasure of his company.

J.C. worked full-time locally, but he went back overseas periodically to train troops in Iraq in police procedure. He was supposed to go back in a few months to do it all over again with a new group. J.C. worked as security chief for Ren Colter, who had a huge cattle ranch, Skyhorn, outside Catelow, Wyoming. Ren was ex-military as well, and he had somebody fill in for J.C. while he accommodated a former commander by drilling new recruits.

Giving orders was something J.C. was very good at. He was also gorgeous. He had jet-black hair, cut short, and eyes so pale a gray that they glittered like silver. He was tall and muscular, but not like a bodybuilder. He had the physique of a rodeo cowboy, lithe and powerful. Colie liked to just sit and look at him when she had the opportunity. She’d never known anybody quite like him. He had a unique background, about which he rarely spoke. Rodney had told her that J.C.’s father was a member of the Blackfoot nation up in Canada. His mother had been a little redheaded Irish woman. Quite an uncommon pairing, but it had produced a handsome child. J.C. never spoke of his father, Rodney added.

Colie wanted a family of her own, badly. She and Rodney had lost their mother two years previously to bone cancer. It had taken her a long time to die, but even then, she’d been cheerful and upbeat around her children and her husband. Colie’s father was a Methodist minister, a pillar of the community. Everybody loved him, not just his own congregation. They’d loved Colie’s mother, too. The little woman, named Beth Louise but called Ludie, had always been the first to arrive if there was a sick person who needed caring for, or a child who needed a temporary home. She’d even fostered dogs that were picked up by the local no-kill animal shelter while they waited for an adoptive family.

All that had passed, along with her. The house was suddenly empty. Jared Thompson, Colie’s father, had been almost suicidally depressed after his wife’s death, but his faith had pulled him through. It was, he told Colie, not right to mourn someone who had lived such a full life and had gone on to a happier, more wonderful place. Death was not the end for people of faith. They simply had to accept that people died for reasons that were, perhaps, not quite clear to those left behind.

Colie and Rodney had grieved, too. Rodney had been overseas for almost four years, with only brief visits. He couldn’t come home for his mother’s funeral, although he Skyped with his father and sister after the services. He was a sweet, biddable boy until he went into the service. When he came home, he was...different. Colie couldn’t figure out why. He became fixated on fancy cars and designer clothes, neither of which fit in his small budget. He’d obtained a job at the local hardware store when he came home, because it was owned by a friend of the reverend Thompson. Rodney seemed to be a natural salesman. But he complained all the time about getting minimum wage. He wanted more. He was never satisfied with anything for long.

The one thing that bothered Colie most was that her brother wasn’t quite lucid much of the time. He had red-rimmed eyes and sometimes he staggered. She worried that he might have been hurt overseas and wasn’t telling them. She knew it wasn’t from alcohol, because Rodney almost never took a drink. It was puzzling.

During Rodney’s tour of duty in the Middle East, J.C. and Rodney hung out together when Rodney was off duty. Rod didn’t write often, but when he did, he mentioned things he and J.C. had done overseas during the time J.C. was there. They went out on the town when Rodney was on liberty. Odd thing about J.C., Rodney had commented. He never drank hard liquor. He’d have the occasional beer, but he didn’t touch the heavy stuff. Like Rodney. But the brother who used to tease her and bring her wildflowers and watch television with her seemed to have gone away. The man who came back from overseas was someone else. Someone with a darkness inside him, a lust for things, for material things.

He’d been vocal about the old things in the house where he lived with his sister and father. It was primitive, he scoffed.

Colie didn’t find it so. It looked lived-in. The small house was immaculate, Colie thought as she looked at her surroundings. The sofa had a new cover, a pretty burgundy floral pattern, and her father’s puffy armchair had a solid burgundy cover. The spotless wood floors had area rugs, which were beaten clean by Colie on a regular basis. There were no cobwebs anywhere. The marble-topped coffee table that her father had found at an antiques shop graced the living room, where an open fireplace crackled with orange flames and the smell of burning oak.

Colie didn’t look too bad herself, she reflected, glancing in the hall mirror at her wavy collar-length dark brown hair. It never needed curling. It was naturally wavy. She had an oval face, sweet and pleasant, but not beautiful. Her eyes were large and dark green under thick lashes. Her mouth was a perfect bow. She had an hourglass figure, with long legs always clad in denim jeans. She had only a few dresses and a couple of nice pantsuits, which she wore to church and to work at the local attorney’s office where she was a receptionist and typist. Around the house, she wore jeans and boots and pullover sweaters. This one was a nice medium green, long-sleeved and V-necked. It showed off Colie’s small, firm breasts in a nice but flattering way. She never wore low-cut things or suggestive dresses. After all, her father was a minister. She didn’t want to do anything that would embarrass him in front of his congregation. She didn’t even curse.

Rodney did. She was constantly chastising him about it.

Just as she thought it, he walked in the door, stomping snow off his big boots on the front porch as he stood in the open doorway, letting in a flurry. He closed it quickly behind him.

“Damn, it’s cold out!” he swore. “Snowing like a son of a...”

She interrupted him. “Will you stop that? Daddy’s a minister,” she groaned. “Rodney, you’re such a pain!”

He had her dark green eyes, but his hair was straight and thick and a shade lighter than hers. He was tall, with perfect teeth and a rakish smile. No choirboy, Rodney, he was always in trouble throughout high school. Presumably, he’d been better behaved in the military, since he was discharged early.

“Daddy can curse,” he retorted. “Haven’t you heard him?”

“Yes, Rodney, he says ‘chicken feathers!’ That’s how he curses.” She glowered at him. “That’s not what you’re saying when you lose your temper.” He lost it a lot lately, too.

He shrugged her off. “I have issues,” he said easily. “I’m working on it. You have to remember that I’ve been around soldiers for several years, and in combat.”

“I try to take that into account,” she said. “But couldn’t you tone it down, just a little bit? For Daddy’s sake?”

He made a face at her. “God, you’re hard to live up to, do you know that?” He sighed, exasperated. “You’ve never put a foot out of line. Never had a parking ticket, never had a speeding ticket, never even jaywalked! What a paragon to try to live up to!”

She grimaced. “I just behave the way Mama taught me.” The thought made her sad. “Don’t you miss her?”

He nodded. “She was the kindest woman I’ve ever known. Well, besides you.” He chuckled and hugged her, and just for a minute, he was the big brother she’d adored. “You’re just the best, sis.”

She hugged him back. “I love you, too.” She sniffed and her nose wrinkled as she drew back. “Rodney, what’s that smell?” she asked, frowning as she sniffed him again. “It’s like tobacco, but not.”

He let her go and averted his eyes. “Just cigarette smoke. Some of that imported stuff. I have a friend who gets them.”

“Not J.C. He doesn’t smoke,” she said, curious.

“Not J.C.,” he agreed. “This is a guy I know from Jackson Hole. He and I pal around sometimes.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “Sorry. I thought it was marijuana.”

He raised both eyebrows. “If I smoked marijuana in this house, Daddy would call Sheriff Cody Banks and have him lock me up in the county detention center in a heartbeat! You know that!”

“Well, yes, I do.” She didn’t add that plenty of men did smoke that awful stuff, and managed to keep their parents from suspecting. She’d had a girlfriend in high school who even bragged about it.

Colie had never used drugs of any sort, especially not any kind that had to be smoked. She had weak lungs. She didn’t smoke, period.

“Didn’t you say J.C. was coming to supper?” she asked after a minute, trying not to sound as excited as she felt.

“He is,” Rodney said, pursing his lips as he saw the excitement she was trying so hard to hide. She was an open book, especially about his best friend. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. He had to run an errand for Ren.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ve still got leftover turkey from Thanksgiving that we have to eat, and mashed potatoes and a green salad, with apple pie for dessert. He does like turkey, doesn’t he?” she added worriedly.

“He’s not fussy about food,” he said, smiling down at her. “Actually, he said snake wasn’t bad if you had enough pepper...”

“Yuck!” she burst out.

“He was spec ops, back when he was in the Army,” he laughed. “Those guys can eat anything, and have, when they’re out on a mission. Bugs, snakes, whatever they can catch. There was this guy attached to his and Ren’s unit overseas, years ago, who cooked an old cat for them when they couldn’t find anything else.”

“Oh, that’s heartless,” she said, wincing.

“It was a very old cat,” he replied. “They were starving.” He hesitated. “He said it tasted awful, and they got sick.”

“Good!” she returned enthusiastically.

He laughed and hugged her again. “You softy,” he mused. “You’re just like Mama. She loved her cats.” He frowned, looking around. “Where’s Big Tom?”

“Out back, chasing rabbits,” she said. The big seal point Siamese cat loved the outdoors. He slept inside at night, because there were predators all around, including bears and foxes and wolves. The Thompsons’ home was outside Catelow, nestled in a forest of lodgepole pines, with no really close neighbors except Ren Colter. Ren’s ranch ran right up to the Thompson property line, but he didn’t run cattle close enough to worry any of the residents.

“Funny,” Rodney mused, thinking about Big Tom.

“What is?”

“J.C. giving you a cat,” he remarked.

It had touched Colie, that unusual gift from J.C. It had been a birthday present, the cat he’d found wandering around near his cabin. He’d had the vet clean him up and give him his shots, and he’d brought him over to Colie, who was a sucker for stray animals. Big Tom turned out to be housebroken and he never used his claws on the furniture. He was a lot of company for Colie while her father was visiting his congregation, which he did often. Rodney had been away in the military, so there was just Colie in the small house. Well, Colie and Big Tom.

“He’s a very nice cat,” she remarked.

Rodney laughed. “J.C.’s not big on animals, although he likes them. He’s good with cattle. Even Willis’s wolf will let him pet him. That’s an accomplishment, believe me,” he added with a huff. “Damned thing nearly took my hand off when I tried it...”

“Rodney!”

He ground his teeth. “Oh, hell.”

“Rodney!”

He let out a breath. “Set up a jar,” he said with resignation, “and I’ll put a nickel in it every time I forget.”

“If I do that, we can have a Tahiti vacation in a month,” she accused.

He laughed. “Not nice.”

“I’ll find a big jar,” she returned. “And you’ll put a quarter in. Every time.”

He drew in a long breath and just smiled. “Okay, Joan of Arc.”

She chuckled and walked back to the kitchen to check on her apple pie in the oven.

* * *

J.C. LOOKED INCREDIBLY handsome in a shepherd’s coat, jeans and boots, with snow dusting his thick, black, uncovered hair.

“You never wear a hat,” Colie mused, trying not to let her hands tremble as she took the coat to hang up for him. He was so tall that she had to stand on her tiptoes to pull it back off his shoulders.

“I hate hats,” he remarked. He glanced at her as she put the coat on the rack in the hall, his pale gray eyes narrow and appraising on her slender, sexy body. She dressed like a lady, but he knew all about women who put on their best behavior around company. She was just out of school; college, he was certain, because she had to be at least twenty-two or twenty-three. Catelow had several thousand people, and J.C. didn’t mix with them. He only knew what Rodney told him about his sister. And that wasn’t much.

“I noticed,” Colie said as she turned, smiling.

His eyes flickered down to her pert breasts and he fought down a raging hunger that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He had women, but this one stirred him in a different way. He couldn’t explain how, exactly. It irritated him and he scowled.

“It wasn’t a complaint,” Colie added quickly, not understanding the scowl.

He shrugged. “No problem. What are we eating?”

“Leftover turkey with cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, salad and apple pie.” She hesitated, insecure. “Is that okay?”

He smiled, his perfect white teeth visible under chiseled, sensuous lips. “It’s great. I love turkey.” He chuckled. “I like chicken, too, although I usually get mine in a bucket.”

Her eyes widened. “You put it in a pail, like you milk cows with?” she asked, shocked.

He glowered at her. “There’s this chicken place. They sell you chicken and biscuits and sides...”

She went red as fire. “Oh, gosh, sorry, wasn’t thinking,” she stammered. “Let’s go in! Daddy’s already at the table.”

Rodney went ahead, but J.C. slid a long finger inside the back of Colie’s sweater and gently stopped her. He moved forward, so that she could feel the heat and power of him at her back in a way that made her heart run wild, her knees shiver. “I was teasing,” he whispered right next to her ear. His lips brushed it.

Her intake of breath was visible. Her whole body felt shaky.

His big hands caught her shoulders and held her there while his lips traveled down the side of her throat in a lazy, whispery caress that caused her to melt inside.

“Do you like movies?” he whispered.

“Well, yes...”

“There’s a new comedy at the theater Saturday. Go with me. We’ll have supper at the fish place on the way.”

She turned, shocked. “You...you want to go out with me?” she asked, her green eyes wide and full of delight.

He smiled slowly. “Yes. I want to go out with you.”

“Saturday?”

He nodded.

“What time?”

“We’ll leave about five.”

“That would be lovely,” she said, drowning in his eyes, on fire with the joy he’d just kindled in her with the unexpected invitation.

“Lovely,” he murmured, but he was looking at her mouth.

“Colie? Supper?” her father’s amused voice floated out from the dining room.

“Supper.” She was dazed. “Oh. Supper! Yes! Coming!”

J.C. followed close behind her, his smile as smug and arrogant as the look on his face. Colie wanted him. He knew it without a word being spoken.

He seated Colie, to her amazement, and then pulled out a chair for himself.

“Good to have you with us, J.C.,” the reverend said gently. “Say grace, Colie, if you please,” he added.

J.C. felt stunned as the others bowed their heads and Colie mumbled a prayer. He wasn’t much on religion, but he did bow his head. When in Rome...

* * *

IT WAS A pleasant meal. Reverend Thompson seemed shocked at J.C.’s knowledge of biblical history as he mentioned a recent dig in Israel that had turned up some new relics of antiquity, and J.C. remarked on it with some authority.

“My mother was from southern Ireland. Catholic,” he added quietly. “She was forever asking the local priest to loan her books on archaeology. It was a passion of his.”

“She couldn’t get them off the internet?” Rodney queried.

J.C. laughed. “We lived in the Yukon, Rod,” he told him with some amusement. “We didn’t have television or the internet.”

“No TV?” Rodney exclaimed. “What did you do for fun?”

“Hunted, fished, helped chop firewood, learned foreign languages from my neighbors. Read,” he added. “I still don’t watch television. I don’t own one.”

“Do you hear that?” Reverend Thompson interjected, pointing to J.C. “That’s how people become intelligent, not from watching people take off their clothing and use foul language on television!”

“It’s his soapbox,” Rodney said complacently. “He only lets me have satellite because I help pay for it.”

“The world is wicked,” the reverend said heavily. “So much immorality. It’s like fighting a tsunami.”

“There, there, Daddy, you do your part to stop it,” Colie said gently, and smiled.

He smiled back. “You’re my legacy, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re so like your mother. She was a gentle woman. She never went with the crowd.”

“I hate crowds,” Colie said.

“Me, too,” Rodney added.

J.C. just stared into space. “I hate people. The best of them will turn on you, given the opportunity.”

“Son, that’s a very harsh attitude,” the reverend said gently.

J.C. finished his turkey and sipped black coffee. “Sorry. We’re the products of our environment, as much as our genetics.” He glanced at the older man with dead eyes. “I’ve been sold out by the people I loved most. It doesn’t encourage trust.”

“You have to consider that we all have a purpose,” the reverend said solemnly. “I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives when they do, for a reason. Some bring out good qualities in us, some bring out bad. Life is a test.”

“If it is, I’ve sure failed it already.” Rodney sighed. He nodded toward Colie. “She’s got a big jar. Every time I swear, I have to put in a nickel. I’ll be bankrupt in days!” he moaned.

Reverend Thompson laughed wholeheartedly. “Now, that’s creative thinking, my girl!”

“I’d take a bow, but the pie would get cold,” she teased, as she served it up.

She noticed that J.C. seemed to love his. He glanced at her, saw her watching him and grinned. She flushed and fumbled with her fork.

The reverend watched the byplay with amusement and concern. Colie was an innocent. He knew things about J.C., who was vocal about his distaste for family life and children. Colie would want marriage and kids. J.C. wouldn’t. It was a mismatch that could lead to tragedy for his daughter. He saw the danger ahead and wished he could stop it.

They had relatives in Comanche Wells, Texas, a small town in Jacobs County. He could send Colie there. She’d be away from J.C...

Even as he thought it, he realized how impractical it was. Colie had a good job. She loved Catelow. And if her continual sighing over J.C. Calhoun was any indication, she was already halfway in love. She’d never dated much, except for an occasional double date with an older girlfriend who’d later married and moved to Billings. She didn’t go out these days. She worked and cooked and cleaned and read books. Even the reverend realized it wasn’t much of a life for a young woman, who should be out learning about life.

It was just that she was going to learn things that he disapproved of. He looked at J.C., saw the way the man was watching Colie, and something inside him tightened like a rope around his throat. He averted his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. He only knew that Colie was headed for disaster.

* * *

COLIE WALKED J.C. out onto the porch, where a small light burned overhead. Snow was falling softly.

“They say we’re looking at six inches of snow,” she remarked with a long sigh.

He smiled. “I can drive in six feet of snow,” he mused. “If the theater is open, we’ll get there. If it isn’t, you can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to play chess.”

Her lips parted on a rush of excitement. He really wanted to be with her. He wasn’t teasing. She looked up into narrow, pale silver eyes and wanted nothing more in the world than to be in his arms.

He saw the look. It amused him. She had her act down pat. Playing innocent, showing all the right sort of excitement for a woman headed for her first love affair. He didn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d had too many experienced women tease him with displays of innocence, only to become wildcats once he had them in bed. It was a trust issue, he supposed. He didn’t trust women. He had good reason not to.

But he was willing to play along. In fact, he knew tricks that Colie might not know. He moved closer, taking her gently by the waist and holding her away from him just a little.

“You’ll get cold,” he whispered, bending his head so that his mouth was just above hers, not touching, but taunting.

“It’s not that cold,” she whispered back, her voice unsteady as she looked up at his mouth, focused on it with all the pent-up hunger she’d been saving for the right man, the right time, the right place.

“Isn’t it?” His voice was deep, dark velvet. He brushed his nose against hers, while his big hands smoothed up and down her rib cage, almost brushing her taut breasts—but not touching.

Her lips parted. They felt swollen. She felt swollen all over. She didn’t know enough about men to understand what he was doing to her. It was a game. A very old game. Tease and retreat, to make a woman hungry for more.

“I have to go,” he whispered, his breath mingling with hers, he was so close.

“Do you?” She was standing on her tiptoes now, almost begging for the hard, chiseled mouth so close to hers. She could almost taste the coffee on it.

“I do.” He brushed his nose against hers again, teased her mouth without touching it, and suddenly put her away from him. “Don’t stay out here. You’ll catch cold.”

“O...kay,” she said. She was disappointed, frustrated.

He saw that. It delighted him. He smiled at her. “I’ll see you Saturday. Five sharp.”

She nodded. “Five sharp.”

“Good night, Colie.”

He went down the steps before she could reply and back to his black SUV. He got in, started the engine, backed out and drove away. He didn’t look back. Not once.

* * *

COLIE WENT BACK INSIDE, frustrated and cold. Why hadn’t he kissed her? She knew he wanted to. His eyes had been hungry as they stared at her parted lips. But he’d pushed her away. Why?

She wished she had a really close girlfriend, somebody she could trust, to talk to about men and their reactions. Well, there was Lucy, at work, the closest thing she had to a friend. But she’d be too embarrassed to ask Lucy, who was married, questions about men and sensual techniques. Lucy would know why she wanted to know, and she’d tease Colie, who was too shy to invite the attention. Still, she wondered why J.C. had been so hesitant to kiss her, when she knew he wanted to. Muffled gossip, movies and explicit television shows hadn’t really educated her about how men felt and why they behaved in odd ways.

She started clearing the dining room table.

“J.C. get off all right?” her father asked.

She nodded and smiled. “It’s snowing again.”

“I noticed.” He was still sitting at the table, with his second cup of black coffee. He took a breath. “Colie, I know how you feel about J.C.,” he said unexpectedly. “But you have to remember that he’s not a marrying man.”

She stopped what she was doing and looked at him. Her expression made him wince.

“You’ve never really been exposed to anybody like him,” her father continued quietly. “Most of the boys you dated were like you, innocent and out of touch with the modern world. J.C. has seen the elephant, as the old-time cowboys used to say. He’s well-traveled and he’s lived among violent men...”

“I know all that, Daddy,” she said softly. “It’s just that...” She bit her lower lip. “I’ve never felt like this.”

“You’re nineteen,” he replied. “Such feelings are natural. But you should also remember that despite what you see in social media, people of faith live by certain rules. Ours teaches that we get married, then we have children. We don’t encourage intimacy outside marriage.”

“I remember.”

“It’s natural to feel such things. We’re human, after all. But just because a lot of people do something immoral, that doesn’t make it right. Any man who truly loves you will want to marry you, Colie, have kids with you, go to church with you. If you interact with a man who has no faith, you risk falling into the same trap that many young women do. I’ve seen the result of broken relationships where illegitimate children were involved. It is not something I want my daughter to experience.”

She wanted to mention that there was such a thing as birth control, but she bit her lip. Her father, like many of his congregation, saw things in a different light than the rest of the world. He was out of touch with what was natural for young women today.

She wanted J.C. Why was it so wrong to sleep with someone you loved? It was as natural as breathing. At least, she imagined it was. She’d never been intimate with anyone. One date had fumbled under her blouse, but his efforts to undress her had been interrupted and Colie hadn’t been sorry. She was curious, but the boy hadn’t stirred her with his kisses.

J.C., on the other hand, made her wild for something she’d never had. She wanted him. Her body burned, for the first time. He felt the same thing for her, she was sure of it. Except she didn’t understand why he’d drawn back so suddenly, why he hadn’t kissed her. It was disturbing.

“Think of your mother,” the reverend added, when he saw that his arguments were having no effect.

She lifted her eyes. “Mama?”

“She was the most moral human being I ever knew,” he said. “She waited for marriage. So did I, Colie,” he added surprisingly. “I loved her almost beyond bearing.” He lowered his eyes. “Life without her would be empty, except for my faith and my work. I carry on, because that’s what she’d want me to do.” He looked up. “She’d expect you to live a moral life.”

Yes, she would, Colie agreed silently. But perhaps her mother hadn’t been as hungry as Colie was, as much in love. Her parents had been together in a different time, when things were less permissive in small towns. Goodness, half the young people in town were in relationships. Few of them actually married.

“If you live with someone, you get to know them and you find out if you’re suited enough to get married,” she ventured without looking at him.

He drew in a slow breath and sipped his coffee. “It’s your life, Colie,” he said gently. “You’re a grown woman. I can’t tell you how to live. I can only tell you that many people who live in an open relationship don’t eventually marry. There’s no real commitment. Not like there is in marriage, where you bring children into the world and raise them. J.C. doesn’t want children.”

“He could change his mind,” she said.

“He could. But I doubt he will. He’s how old, thirty-two? If he still feels that way, at his age, he’s unlikely to change. There’s something else,” he added quietly. “You can’t involve yourself with someone with the idea that you can change things about them that you don’t like. People don’t change. Bad habits only grow worse.”

“Not liking children,” she began, moving silverware around on an empty plate. “That might change, if he had a child.”

He closed his eyes and winced.

Colie saw that. It wounded her. “Daddy, I can’t help how I feel,” she ground out. “I’m crazy about him!”

He drew in a long breath. “I know.” He looked up at her and saw her stubborn resolve. He finished his coffee and got to his feet. He brushed a kiss against her cheek. “I’ll always be here for you. Always. No matter what you do. I’m your father. I will always love you.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. She put down the plates and hugged him, tears bleeding from her eyes.

He patted her on the back and kissed her hair, as he had when she was very small, and hurt, and she ran to him for comfort. It had always been like that. She loved her mother very much, but she was Daddy’s girl.

“It will all work out,” he said, trying to reassure both of them.

“Of course it will,” she replied, fighting more tears.

CHAPTER TWO

COLIE WAS DRESSED and ready to go by three o’clock on Saturday, and so nervous that she could hardly settle anywhere. J.C. had said they’d eat at the fish place, but she didn’t know if he’d want her to wear a nice dress or jeans or what. She’d never seen him in a suit or even a conventional jacket, so she assumed he’d wear jeans, as he always did.

She wore jeans, nicely laundered, with lace inserts on the side from the hem up to the knee, with a pretty white blouse, also with lace inserts. Against her dark hair and light olive skin, she looked exotic. The excitement made her green eyes sparkle. She looked almost pretty, even without gobs of makeup, which she detested. She had a naturally smooth complexion, which she touched up with just a little face powder and a glossy lipstick. She couldn’t abide mascara. In fact, she was allergic to most of it. But she had thick, black lashes that looked as if she used it.

Her hair had a natural wave. All she did was wash it and comb it. She grinned at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look half-bad, she thought. Maybe J.C. would kiss her. She caught her breath at the anticipated pleasure. J.C. had been around. He’d know how to kiss. Hopefully, he’d teach her, because she hadn’t a clue.

“Primping?” Rodney teased as he joined her in the hall. “You look fine, sis.”

She laughed. “Thanks.”

“You know, J.C. isn’t big on family,” he said unexpectedly. “He doesn’t have any left. His mother is dead, and he and his father don’t speak. I’m not sure he even knows where his old man is.”

She turned and looked up at him. “Why?”

“He doesn’t talk about it,” he said. “He let something drop, just once, about a family that adopted him when he was ten. A man and wife, up in the Yukon. She was a teacher. So was his mother, so maybe they knew each other or something. Anyway, he lived with them for a while. Tragic thing, there was a fire. Both of them died. J.C.’s been alone for a long time.”

“He has you,” she said.

“We’re not that close,” he replied. “You can’t get close to him. He doesn’t trust people. He doesn’t share anything.” He frowned. “I know how you feel. Maybe that could change,” he added when he saw her pained expression. “Just don’t let him hurt you, okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“He had this really bad experience with a woman. He didn’t tell me. I heard it from one of the guys he taught with overseas, who was in basic training with him. She was a call girl. He didn’t know. At that time, he’d had very little to do with women and he was naive. He fell head over heels for her. Then he heard her talking about him to another man, laughing at how he’d bought her so many fancy things and he thought she was innocent. She said she’d worked at that pose for years, because so many of her paying customers liked it. J.C. went wild. They said he wrecked a bar and put another man in the hospital afterward. When he left the military, the guy said, he was so different that he hardly knew him anymore,” he added quietly. “He’s had some knocks.”

“Poor guy,” she said softly.

“So forewarned is forearmed,” he added. “J.C.’s attitude toward women changed after that. He’s no playboy, but he does have women.”

She ground her teeth together. She’d suspected it, but she was learning things about J.C. that were very disturbing. “A lot of men are that way. Aren’t they? They still get married and have families...”

“Don’t count on it,” he returned. “J.C. does a job that invites violence, haven’t you noticed? He heads up security for Ren’s ranch, and he goes overseas all the time to help train policemen, in areas where insurgency is high. He likes risk. That doesn’t mesh with grammar schools and birthday parties, sweet girl.”

She was feeling sicker by the minute.

Rodney saw that and winced. “I know how you feel about him,” he said in a gentler tone. “That’s why I’m saying these things. You already know that Daddy doesn’t move with the times. He lives in a fantasy world of happy-ever-after, because he and Mama had that. It doesn’t work that way for most people. We take what we can get and move on.”

“You mean, we enjoy what we can and don’t look ahead,” she said in a hollow tone.

“Something like that.” He drew in a breath. “Colie, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just want you to know what you’re up against. J.C.’s my friend. But you’re my sister. He doesn’t respect women. Not anymore.”

She moved her shoulder restlessly. “You think I shouldn’t go out with him.”

He hesitated. There were reasons why he wanted to keep her away from his best friend that had nothing to do with her well-being. J.C. was a stickler for law and order. Rodney was into some very bad things. J.C. knew that he used drugs, and it was why they didn’t spend as much time together as they had overseas. He knew other things about Rodney that he didn’t want his father finding out, too. J.C. wouldn’t rat him out because he didn’t know what was really going on. But his baby sister would, if she had any inkling. He needed to prevent her from becoming close to his friend.

On the other hand, he cared about her, in his way. “Honey, you do what you think is right,” he said after a minute. “I’m on your side. Whatever you decide to do. Okay?”

She hugged him impulsively, her cheek resting on his chest so that she missed the agonized look on his face.

“Thanks, Rod.” She drew back. “Daddy said he’d always be here for me, whatever happened.” She looked up. “He thinks I can’t resist J.C.”

“No woman can resist him, if he wants her,” he said. He caught himself and clenched his teeth.

“It’s okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “He likes variety, they say.”

“He does, now,” he replied. “Before, that guy told me, he was Mr. Conventional. That changed after the call girl took him for the ride of his life.”

“Somebody should give her a taste of her own medicine.”

“Women like that don’t feel anything, honey,” Rodney told her. “They’re cold as ice inside. A woman who prostitutes herself usually does it because it’s easy money. Maybe there are control issues, as well. It gives a woman power over a man, when she sells a service.”

She just nodded. It was a world she’d never seen.

“Maybe you’ll change J.C. back to the way he was,” he said gently. “Who knows?”

She smiled. “Right. Who knows?” She sniffed him. “Honestly, Rod, you reek of smoke...!”

“My buddy from Jackson Hole came up to visit. He’s staying at a local motel. I have to go see him tonight, so I’ll be late. Very late. We’re talking to another man he knows, from the West Coast.”

She frowned. It sounded odd.

“Hardware store business,” he said quickly. “It’s samples of tools.”

“Oh! I see.” She laughed and turned away. She missed Rodney’s quickly erased look of guilt.

* * *

J.C., AS SHE’D SUSPECTED, was wearing jeans with hand-tooled boots and a long-sleeved blue plaid shirt and a shepherd’s coat. He smiled when he saw her pretty but casual clothing.

“I hoped you’d realize it isn’t a formal date,” he chuckled. “I should have said so.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” she assured him. “I read minds.”

His dark eyebrows arched.

“Really,” she said, green eyes sparkling.

“If you say so,” he returned. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yes.”

Her father came out into the hall, glanced at J.C. and smiled. He had a book in his hands. “Have fun. Don’t be too late, Colie, please?”

“I won’t, Daddy.” She kissed him. Even though he smiled, there was concern in his whole look as he turned back to his study. He hadn’t said a word to J.C.

“Daddy’s not comfortable with people,” Colie defended him when they were settled in J.C.’s big black SUV headed for town. “It’s funny, for a minister, because he has to be available to his congregation when they need counseling or comfort.”

“I noticed.”

“It isn’t that he doesn’t like you.” She was trying valiantly to explain something that wasn’t really explainable.

He glanced at her and smiled. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Don’t sweat it.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

“Do you like fish?”

“Oh, yes. Fried, poached, grilled, any way at all. Do you?”

He chuckled. “I grew up in the Yukon. There are lakes and rivers everywhere. My grandfather taught me to fish when I was about four years old.”

She noticed that he didn’t speak of his father, and she recalled what Rodney had told her. “My grandfathers were both dead when I was born,” she said. “I only had one grandmother living, and she died when I was in grammar school.”

“That’s sad. I had my grandfather until my mother died. He was a grand old fellow. Blackfoot,” he added with a smile. “His family came from Calgary.” He noticed her puzzlement. “It’s in Alberta. Western Canada. Have you ever heard of the Calgary Stampede? It’s a rodeo they hold every year. My granddad rode in it.”

“Gosh! Yes, I’ve heard of that.”

“My father didn’t care much for rodeo, but he was bulldogging with grandad when he saw a pretty little redheaded Irish woman in the stands, cheering him on. He found her after the event and started talking to her. He was fascinated with her coloring. She was an anthropology student, and she was fascinated with First Nation people, like my father. They dated for a week and got married.”

“It fascinates me that you had a redheaded mother,” she said, staring at him. His hair was coal black, his eyes that odd, beautiful shade of pale silver.

He chuckled. “It doesn’t show, does it?”

“Not really.”

“I get my eyes from her. They were pale gray, like mine.”

“You loved her.”

He stared ahead at the snow-lined road. “Very much. She was always there for me. She took terrible chances to keep me safe.” He drew in a long breath. He’d never spoken of these things, even to Rodney. There was something about Colie that drew his confidence. “I lost her when I was ten. I went to live with an adoptive family.” He forced a smile. “They were good, kind people. They had no kids of their own, so I was pretty much spoiled rotten.” His face hardened. “They died in a fire. I was just getting home from school. I got there just before the ambulances and fire trucks did.” He averted his eyes. The memory still hurt. “I couldn’t get them out. The whole structure was involved by then.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said gently.

The sympathy twisted something inside him, something he’d hidden for years. “I couldn’t get past the flames at the front door,” he gritted. “I tried. A neighbor pulled me back and sat on me until the fire trucks got the hoses going. They were good people.”

Her face contorted. She could only imagine standing helplessly by while people she loved died.

He glanced at her, saw the sympathy that wasn’t feigned. “You don’t push, do you?” he asked after a few seconds, his attention turning back to the road. “You just let people talk when they want to.”

She smiled sadly. “I’m not interesting,” she said. “I listen more than I talk.”

“I noticed that about you, when I first met you, that you listen more than most people do. Rod used to talk about his kid sister who sat and daydreamed and played guitar. You still play?”

“Not often. I don’t practice as much as I used to. I have a full-time job and I’m taking night courses in business two days a week.”

“You work for Wentworth and Tartaglia, don’t you?” he asked, naming a well-known law firm in Catelow.

“I do. I went to work for them just out of high school.”

“That was a while back, I guess,” he chuckled.

It was six months, but he didn’t know her real age, apparently. Rod must not have mentioned it. She wasn’t going to, either. If he knew she was barely nineteen, he might not want to take her out. He was thirty-two; Rod had told her. Just as well to let him think she was more mature than she was. She couldn’t bear the thought that he might not want to keep dating her.

“I guess,” she replied with a smile.

He settled down. He’d never asked Rod how old his baby sister was. He knew there were a few years between them, but not how many. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to get serious. He just wanted someone cute and responsive to spend time with. She didn’t seem the sort of woman who’d cling, and that suited him very well.

* * *

THE FISH PLACE was crowded, but J.C. found them a table that was just being vacated and captured it before another young couple. They laughed as he grinned at them.

“Wow,” Colie mused, letting him seat her. “That was a nice takeover.”

“Thanks. I can do it with enemy positions, too,” he chuckled.

She cocked her head and laughed. “You really do have a flair for it.”

“I’m hungry and the place is crowded. What do you see that you like?”

She wanted to say “you” but she was far too shy to flirt overtly. She settled down with the menu and made her choices.

* * *

THEY ATE IN a comfortable silence.

“Do you fish?” he asked.

She paused with her fork in midair. “Well, yes,” she said. “I used to go with Daddy. We’d sit on the dock for hours waiting for something to bite. Not much ever did.”

“Come spring, I’ll take you fishing.”

Her heart jumped. That was a long-term invitation. She was touched. “I’d love that,” she said, with her heart in the eyes that slid over his face like exploring hands.

“Me, too,” he said softly.

He held her gaze for so long that her heart ran wild and her fingers trembled. She dropped the fork into her plate with a clatter that stunned her. She dived for it, flushing.

He chuckled. Her headlong reaction to him was delicious. He couldn’t remember a time when a woman had appealed to him so much in ways beyond the purely physical. He hated the memory of the call girl who’d shattered his pride and his ego. But that was in the days before he became experienced and sophisticated. That was before he learned to turn the tables, to make women beg for him and then walk away from them.

His pale gray eyes narrowed on Colie’s face. Could he do that to her? Make her beg, make her do anything he liked, and then just walk away? The thought of giving her up was troubling, even at this very early stage in their relationship. Better not to dwell on it. Live for the moment.

He smiled at her. “How’s the fish?” he asked, to relax the tension.

“It’s great,” she said. “I love the French fries, too. They make them fresh. No frozen stuff here.”

“I noticed. I’m partial to a good French fry.”

“I make them for Daddy sometimes. He likes fish and chips.”

“Your father doesn’t like me.”

“It’s not that.” She struggled for words. “He’s protective of me. He always has been. I go to Sunday school and church, I sing in the choir, I teach primary classes in Sunday school.” She gnawed her lower lip. “I guess that sounds painfully conservative to someone like you, who’s traveled and is sophisticated. But around here, it’s pretty much the normal thing. Not everyone is conservative,” she confided. “We have people in our congregation who live together and aren’t married, we have people who do drugs, we have people who have babies out of wedlock, stuff like that. Daddy never judges, he just tries to help.”

His eyes fell to his plate. He wasn’t in the market for a wife. Did she know?

“I know you’re not the settling-down kind, J.C.,” she said out of the blue. “But I like going around with you.”

His eyes lifted. He laughed shortly. “You really do read minds, don’t you?”

She grinned, green eyes twinkling. “I tell fortunes, too, but not where Daddy can hear me,” she whispered. “He thinks it’s witchcraft!”

He grinned back. “My father’s mother could see far,” he said. “She had visions. I suppose a doctor might say she had aura from migraines and was hallucinating, but her visions were pretty accurate. She saw the future.”

“Did she ever tell yours?”

He nodded. He scowled as he finished his meal and lifted the coffee cup with cooling black coffee to chiseled, sensuous lips. “Yes, but it made no real sense.”

“What did she say?”

He put the cup down. “She said that one day I’d want something out of my reach, that I’d make bad decisions and cause a tragedy that would hurt me as much as it hurt the other person. She said that a third person would suffer the most for it.” He paused and then laughed at her puzzled expression. “Sometimes she was vague. I was very young at the time, too. She said that I was too young to understand what she was telling me.” His face hardened. “I lost her at the same time I lost my mother. I lost touch with my grandfather. By the time I was old enough to search for him, he was long dead.”

“I’m really sorry,” she said quietly. “I know how it feels to lose people you love. At least, I still have Daddy and Rod.”

He understood what she wasn’t saying. She was saying that J.C. had nobody. She was right.

His big hand reached for hers and closed over it. “You have a knack for pulling painful memories out of me,” he said quietly. “I’m not sure I like it.”

She felt her heart soaring at the touch of his hand on hers. It was like tiny electric shocks running through her. She loved the way it felt to hold hands. “You don’t let people get close. I’m that way,” she confessed hesitantly. “But we’re different, because I trust people and you don’t. I’m shy, so I keep to myself.”

His thumb smoothed over her soft, damp palm. He studied her quietly. “I enjoy my own company.”

She nodded. “So do I.”

“But I enjoy yours, as well.”

She smiled. She beamed. “Really?”

“Really.” His fingers tightened. “We’ll have to do this again.”

“That would be nice.”

“Dessert?”

“I don’t really like sweets,” she confessed.

He chuckled. “Something else in common. Okay. Movie next.” He picked up the check, pulled out her chair and they left.

* * *

THE MOVIE WAS FUNNY. Colie thought she’d probably have enjoyed it, but her whole body was involved with the feel of J.C.’s arm around her in the back of the theater, in one of the couple seats. His fingers brushed lazily over her throat, her shoulder, down to her rib cage, in light, undemanding brushes that made her heart race, made her body feel swollen and hungry.

His cheek rested on her dark hair while they watched the screen. The theater wasn’t crowded, despite the great reviews the movie had gotten. There was an usher. He went up and down the aisles and left.

“Alone at last,” J.C. teased at her ear, and his lips traveled down her neck to where it joined her shoulder, under the lacy blouse.

She felt just the tip of his tongue there and she shivered. She’d never had such a headlong physical reaction to any man she’d ever known. The boys in her circle of friends were just that: boys. This was an experienced man, and she knew that if he ever turned up the heat, there would be no resisting him.

J.C. knew that, too. It should have pleased him. It didn’t. She wasn’t the sort of woman he was used to these days. She was like his grandmother. His mother. They were conservative, too. Neither of them had ever been unfaithful to their mates. His mother once spoke of being so naive that she hardly knew how to kiss when she married his father. They were women of faith, although his mother had been Catholic and his grandmother a practitioner of her native religion. They were the sort of women who loved their men and had families with them. J.C. didn’t want any part of that.

But he loved the feel of Colie’s soft body beside him. He wanted her, desperately. There were so many reasons why he should just walk away, cut this off now, while there was still time.

Her cheek moved against his hair. He could almost feel her heart beating. Her breath was shallow and quick. She was trembling.

He had to fight the surging need to push her down on the floor and have her right there. It was the first time in his life he’d ever wanted anyone that badly.

Because it shocked him, he drew away a little. He had to slow things down. He needed time to think.

She looked lost when he moved away. He caught her hand in his and held it tight, tight.

She relaxed. It was as if he was comforting her, cooling things down. She appreciated it, because she’d sensed his need. Perhaps he’d been alone too long, she thought, and he was hungry. That disturbed her. She couldn’t do what he wanted, not without some sort of commitment. She couldn’t shame her father in a town so small that gossip ran rampant.

She forced a smile and tried to concentrate on the movie.

* * *

J.C. DROVE HER HOME, still holding her hand. He liked her a lot, but he was getting cold feet. This was going to be a mistake if he let it continue. He should have left her alone. She was getting emotionally involved and he couldn’t afford to. He liked his freedom too much.

He walked her to her door. “It was a pretty good movie.”

“Yes, it was,” she agreed, thinking privately that she couldn’t remember a single scene.

He turned her to him and he was solemn in the porch light. “It’s unwise to start things you can’t finish,” he said after a minute.

Her heart sank, but she understood. He didn’t want involvement. She’d known that. It still hurt.

She forced a smile. “Still, it was nice. Fish and a movie.”

He nodded. He looked troubled. His big hand touched her cheek, felt its warmth, its smooth contours.

“You live in a conservative household,” he began. “You work at a conventional job. I don’t. I like risk...”

She reached up and put her fingers over his mouth. “You don’t have to say it, J.C.,” she said softly. “I understand.”

He caught the fingers and kissed them hungrily. Then he put them away. “You’re a nice woman,” he said after a minute.

“Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” he said sardonically.

She laughed.

He drew in a breath and shook his head. She was a puzzle.

He stuck his hands in his coat pockets, to keep from doing what he wanted to do with them. He cocked his head and studied her through narrowed eyes. “What am I thinking?”

“That you’d love to kiss me good-night, but you think I might become addictive, so you’re going to rush out to your truck and go home,” she said simply.

His eyebrows arched. It was so close to the truth that it made him uncomfortable.

She laughed. “Now you’re thinking that I’m a witch,” she mused.

His breath rushed out in a torrent.

“And now you’re shocked,” she continued. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. One of the Kirk boys married a psychic. I’m not nearly in her class, but she said people wouldn’t even come into an office where she worked because they were afraid of her.”

“I’m not afraid of seers,” he replied.

“You’re just uneasy, because it’s one of those spooky things people keep hidden,” she said.

He burst out laughing and shook his head. “My God.”

“I don’t usually talk about it around people. I wouldn’t want my bosses to fire me because clients ran for the hills.”

“It’s a rare gift,” he said after a minute.

“It can be,” she said, but her face clouded.

His eyes narrowed. “You see things you don’t want to see.”

She nodded. “I know when bad things are going to happen to people I love,” she said sadly. “I knew when my grandmother was going to die. She had the gift, too.”

“What did she tell you?”

She shifted her purse in her hands. “She said that my life was going to be a hard one,” she replied. “That I’d make a very bad decision and I’d pay a high price for it. She said that I’d marry, but not for love, and that tragedy would stalk me like a tiger for several years. But that I’d have a happy, full life afterward.”

He was surprised at the commonality in the predictions his grandmother and hers had given for both of them.

“It is odd, isn’t it?” she asked, as if she’d read the thought in his mind. “I mean, that your grandmother would have told you almost what mine told me.”

“Odd,” he agreed.

“On the other hand, maybe they were both just rambling,” she said, and smiled. “Predictions are just that. Predictions. I don’t read the future at all. I just get cold, hollow feelings when something bad’s going to happen. Mostly when it concerns Daddy.”

“I’ve never had that.”

“Lucky you,” she said. She searched his lean face. “You’ve had a hard life, J.C. I don’t even have to know about you. It shows. So much pain...”

“Stop right there,” he interrupted, his jaw taut.

“Overstepped the boundaries, did I?” she asked, and smiled. “Sorry. I just open my mouth and stuff my foot in, all the time.”

That amused him and he laughed.

“It was a nice night out. Thanks,” she said.

He shrugged. “It was nice,” he agreed. “But we’re not doing it again.”

“Of course not,” she agreed, hiding the pain.

“I’m not in the market for a picket fence, no matter how attractive the accessories.”

It took her a minute, but she got it. She laughed. “Okay.”

“You’re quick.”

“Not so much.” She sighed. “It was fun.”

“It was fun. Good night.”

“Good night.”

“Tell Rod I’m still on for the poker game, if he is. He’ll understand,” he added as he turned to leave.

“I’ll tell him.”

He forced himself to walk to the SUV, open the door, get in and crank it. He didn’t look at her. If he had, he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave.

* * *

COLIE WATCHED HIM drive away. He didn’t wave. He didn’t look back. She felt a sense of terrible loss. But he was right. They had no future. Their outlooks were far too different. Still, he needed somebody. He was so alone, so tormented.

She opened the door and went inside. Her father was just coming out of his study. His quick glance showed him that it had been a conventional date, and that nothing had happened. He tried to hide his sense of relief.

“Have fun?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” she said, grinning. “It was a great movie. We had dinner at the fish place. I love their fries.”

“They’re good,” he said, nodding. He cocked his head. “Going out again?”

She shook her head. “He’s very nice, but he hates picket fences,” she said.

He moved closer. She was putting on a show, and he knew it. She was in pain. “Daughter,” he said gently, “there’s a reason for everything, a plan behind whatever happens to us. You have to let life happen. You can’t force it to be what you’d like it to be.”

She smiled and hugged him. “And we can’t get involved with people who aren’t like us. I know all that. It’s what he said, too.” She closed her eyes. “It still hurts.”

“Of course it does. But pain passes. Everything does, in time.”

“Yes. In time,” she agreed.

* * *

BUT IT DIDN’T PASS. Every time Rod mentioned J.C., Colie felt it like a stab in her heart. She knew that J.C. was totally wrong for her. It didn’t help. She wanted him. Loved him. Hungered for him.

She went to work, came home, cooked and cleaned, read books, went to bed. She got up the next day and did the very same things. But she felt as empty inside as a tennis ball.

* * *

SHE DIDN’T KNOW IT, but J.C. was having the same problem. Every day, he went to work and was haunted by the soft twinkle in a pair of loving green eyes. He was used to women who wanted him. But one who loved him...that was new. It was frightening.

Could he take her and walk away afterward? Could he not take her and live? He agonized over it.

His boss, Ren Colter, noticed his preoccupation while they were inspecting a downed fence on the edge of the property.

“That tree needs to come down,” Ren remarked.

“I’ll tell Willis,” J.C. replied. Willis was the foreman.

“What’s eating you?” Ren asked suddenly, and from the standpoint of the friend he’d been for years. “You’re not yourself.”

“Just a few sleepless nights, that’s all,” J.C. lied.

“Umhmmm. And it wouldn’t have something to do with Colie Thompson...?”

J.C.’s pale gray eyes flashed. “Listen, just because I took her to a movie...!”

“Oh, can it,” Ren said shortly. “You’ve been mooning around here for a week, like a ghost trying to find a place to haunt. I hear she’s doing the same thing.”

“She is?” J.C. asked.

The other man’s expression was like a statement. Ren chuckled. “You have to take the path to see where it leads. Ask yourself, are you happier now?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you do something about it?”

J.C. clenched his jaw. “Her father’s a minister and I don’t want to get married.”

“You don’t have to propose just because you take her out on dates,” was the reasonable reply. “Do you?”

J.C. sighed. “It will complicate things.”

“Life is too short to avoid complications.”

J.C. studied him. After a minute he laughed shortly. “I guess it is, at that.”

* * *

COLIE WAS JUST getting into her old beat-up pickup truck in the parking lot of the law firm where she worked when a big black SUV pulled into the spot beside her.

She turned and J.C. was getting out of it.

He stopped just in front of her. He looked angry, conflicted, worried. He drew in a breath. “The hell with it,” he said curtly.

“What?” she began.

He pulled her into his arms and bent his head. “We’ll take it one day at a time,” he whispered as his mouth burrowed softly, slowly into hers.

She would have questioned him, but a shock of pleasure ran the length of her body and left her trembling. She reached up and held him, hung on for dear life, while he made a five-course meal of her soft, eager mouth.

CHAPTER THREE

IT WAS A long time before J.C. lifted his head. The kiss had filled a hollow place inside himself that he hadn’t even known about. Colie’s face was flushed, her pretty bow mouth swollen, her green eyes soft and drowsy with feeling. It puzzled him that she didn’t kiss him back so much as she allowed herself to be kissed. Perhaps, he thought, her other boyfriends hadn’t cared about foreplay. He was used to experienced women who didn’t care much for it, either. They were usually so hungry, so eager, that they just went at it.

He gave one last thought to his suspicions about her, but Rod was a rounder and he was a minister’s son. J.C. figured that Colie was probably as sexually active as her brother, but she put on a good show for her father. She certainly wasn’t protesting.

J.C. had her so close that she could feel how aroused he was. She’d never felt a man like that, but she was a great reader. She knew from her romance novels how men’s bodies changed when they wanted a woman. It thrilled her that J.C. wanted her so much.

She didn’t want to discourage him, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to live with what he was certainly going to want from her. She’d lived a moral life, she’d never put a foot wrong. And yet here was temptation and sin, wearing blue jeans and dying for her.

She sighed. “That was nice.”

“Nice.” He chuckled, looking around as he moved a step back. “Lucky thing that there isn’t much traffic on this side street at this time of the day.” He leaned close. “I was starving.”

“I noticed,” she whispered, and flushed.

He ruffled her hair. “I’ll come get you in an hour. Long enough for you to serve something up for your father and Rod?”

“Oh, yes,” she lied. She’d manage something. There were leftovers that she could reheat. “Where are we going?”

“To Jackson Hole,” he said with a grin. “I’m going to take you to a nightclub. Got a flashy dress?”

Her face fell.

Damn! He’d forgotten. Her father wouldn’t be encouraging that sort of thing. She probably didn’t own an evening gown.

“Change of plan,” he said abruptly. “Wear jeans and we’ll hit a casino over near Lander. I’ll teach you how to play the machines.” He grinned.

She laughed. “I don’t own an evening gown. I guess it showed, huh?”

“We’ll have to do something about that,” he began.

“No, we won’t,” she replied curtly. “I pay my own way. Just in case you were thinking you’d buy me one.”

His eyebrows really arched now. “It’s just a dress...”

“I pay my own way,” she repeated. She had a stubborn look on her face.

He recognized it, because he had one just like it. He chuckled. “Okay, Miss Independence. We’ll do things your way.”

She smiled. “Fair enough. I’ll be ready and waiting.”

She was still flushed. He loved her reaction to him. No coy withdrawal, no teasing; she just went in headfirst when he touched her. It boded well for the future. He had one slight twinge of conscience, but it passed quickly. She was old enough to know the score, and he was certain he wouldn’t be her first man. Why did that disturb him? It was stupid. He’d never been the first man.

“I’ll see you in an hour,” he told her.

“Okay.”

She watched him leave. She got into her old, beat-up truck that guzzled gas and looked at herself in the rearview mirror. She looked...loved. Her breath caught as she relived the hungry, passionate kiss, the first of its kind she’d ever had. She was in love with J.C. And he must feel something for her, because he’d come back when he said he wouldn’t.

She smiled all the way home. She only stopped when she had to tell her father she was going out with J.C. and saw the disappointment and sorrow on his face.

* * *

ROD WAS STILL away when she got ready for her date. She’d fixed a meager supper for her father. She wasn’t hungry. Excitement robbed her of any appetite.

“Where are you going?” her father asked gently as he finished the impromptu meal.

She ground her teeth together. “To Lander,” she said with a forced smile. “It’s over near Jackson Hole...”

“Casinos,” her father said with a deep sigh. He studied her guilty face quietly. “It’s your life, Colie. I won’t interfere. But you’re headed down a path I wouldn’t wish for you. I think you already know that J.C. isn’t a person of faith.”

“I know that. People can change,” she said stubbornly.

“They can. But most don’t,” he said, uncharacteristically negative. He locked his hands around his coffee cup. “Try not to let him influence you in bad ways. You were raised to have principles. Don’t discard them for a man who’ll never marry you.”

“He’s not a bad man,” she began.

“I didn’t say that he was. I’m only saying that he’s used to a very different lifestyle than you are.” His eyes were old and wise as they met hers. “People of faith are very challenged in the modern world. It’s hard to hold on to ideals when so many people live without them.”

“I know that, Daddy. But I’ll still be myself, whatever decisions I make.”

He knew that further argument would be futile. He could see in her eyes that she was already too much in love with J.C. to deny him anything.

He managed a smile. “You’ll always be my daughter, whatever choices you make, and I’ll always love you. I’ll be here when you need me.”

“I know that.” She felt her regrets deeply. She was disappointing him, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted J.C. more than she wanted to go on living. “I love him, Daddy,” she said simply.

“I know that, too.”

“It will be all right,” she said. She only wished that she could believe that.

She fed Big Tom, who rolled around her ankles with such fervor that she laughed, picked him up and kissed him before she left.

* * *

THE CASINO WAS big and noisy. The place was run by the Eastern Shoshone tribe, and it was a huge boon to the economy of the Native people. Located near Lander, and the Wind River Range, the view must have been spectacular. It was dark by the time J.C. and Colie arrived, but the beautiful, colorful glitter of lights out front lessened her disappointment in not getting to see the view.

“It’s so...glittery,” she enthused, holding tight to J.C.’s hand as they walked around the huge room.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head,” he teased. “Sinful gaming! I expect your father had a lot to say about this trip.”

“Enough,” she confided. “But it’s my life. I have to make my own choices.”

He glanced down at her. He did feel a pang of regret. She was so sheltered, in so many ways. She didn’t live in the real world, in his world.

She looked up in time to catch that expression. She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t look so guilty. You’re not leading me astray.”

“Feels that way,” he said softly. He searched her soft green eyes and felt a shock of pleasure all the way down to his toes. He smiled reluctantly. “On the other hand, maybe you’re leading me astray,” he mused. “I don’t like attachments.”

“I’ll never send you an email that has any,” she promised.

He chuckled and pressed her hand tight. “Torment.”

“I brought five dollars,” she said, glancing around. “Let’s see how long it lasts!”

He was privately of the opinion that she’d lose it in the first three minutes, but he only nodded.

* * *

AN HOUR LATER, she was still playing.

“This has to be some sort of record,” he said when the fruits lined up on the screen for her.

“I’m lucky,” she said, distracted. She glanced up at him. “Otherwise, I’d never be here with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re gorgeous, J.C.,” she said softly, and her eyes echoed it. “You could have any woman you wanted, but you’re going around with me.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Everything,” she said miserably. “I’m not pretty.”

He scowled. “Of course you’re pretty,” he said curtly. “You have wonderful qualities. You’re kind and sweet and you never complain, even when you should.”

She flushed.

“I mean that,” he added, sketching her face. “You remind me of my mother, in a way. She had that incurable optimism.” His face hardened. “She was almost too kind and forgiving.”

She wanted so badly to ask what had happened to his mother, but the machine sang out and she laughed and threw up her hands. “Look! I won again!”

He glanced at his watch. “And I hate to break this up, but it’s a long drive home. Your father won’t appreciate it if I get you home in the wee hours of the morning. I’ve probably gotten you in enough trouble, just bringing you here.”

She stood up. “It was my choice, too,” she told him. “Daddy doesn’t interfere. He counsels, which is a different thing.”

He drew in a long breath. “We come from very different backgrounds,” he said after a minute.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It might, one day,” he replied. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to get mixed up with you.”

“Gee, thanks, I like you, too,” she mused.

“I wish I could just walk away,” he said huskily. He touched her face with long, gentle fingers. “I can’t.”

Her heart jumped up into her throat. It was the most encouraging thing he’d said to her so far.

“You may wish that I had, Colie,” he said quietly. “I meant what I said. I’m not interested in white picket fences and babies.”

“You said that before. I’m not trying to change you, J.C. You really can’t change people,” she added.

“That’s my point.”

She just stared at him, so much in love that she wondered if her feet were really touching the floor as she met his searching gaze and felt her breath suspended as her heart ran wild.

He ground his teeth together. “We should go. Let’s collect your winnings and call it a night.”

She was delighted with her small win. It was only about a month’s salary, but it would help catch up on some bills and let her add a few minutes a month to her phone messaging.

She said so.

J.C., who had money stashed away in offshore accounts as well as his local bank, frowned.

She saw the look. “I make a nice salary, but it doesn’t go very far,” she told him. “I help with the bills and I pay for my cell phone. It’s not top of the line, but it has a few features. I pay for gas for my old truck that has mechanical issues every other week. I pay for the internet because I’m the one who uses it, mostly. Rod helps, because he games. He does love his console life.”

“He always liked gaming,” he replied. He didn’t tell her that Rodney had changed a lot with his overseas duty. That happened to men who were raised with solid beliefs. It was challenging to retain them when you saw so much death and torture in the military.

“What are you thinking about so hard?” she wondered as they drove back home down snow-lined roads toward Catelow.

“I was remembering my service overseas, with Rod,” he said. “It isn’t something I talk about. I don’t imagine Rod shared any of it with you, either.”

“Not really. He had nightmares when he first came home. He didn’t say why. He and Daddy talked about it, but not in front of me.” She glanced at him. “Daddy fought in the first Gulf War,” she added. “He was a chaplain, but he was on the front lines.”

“That must have been hard on him,” he said.

“Very hard. He said it challenged his faith, seeing the misery of the people he encountered.”

“Life challenged mine,” he said shortly. “I lost what little I had when I was ten.”

She was curious. Very curious. But she didn’t speak.

He drew in a breath. “My father worked in mining, after he and my mother married,” he began. “It was hard work. Not what he’d planned for himself. He wanted to own a ranch. He thought if he worked hard and saved his money, he’d be able to buy land, build a house, start a herd of cattle. But it didn’t happen.” His eyes stared straight ahead as the windshield wipers slid rhythmically over the windshield, wiping away flurries of snow. “He was trapped. Mom got pregnant with me, and suddenly there were doctor bills and all the debt that comes with a baby. There was nothing left over every week. Mom couldn’t work, because there was nobody who could take care of me, and they couldn’t afford help.”

“There are government agencies,” she began.

He laughed shortly. “My father was a proud man,” he returned. “He refused to even speak of it. He tried to get my mother to contact her people and ask for a loan. She wouldn’t do it.” He glanced at her. “They disowned her when she married my father. They had deep prejudices.”

What he’d said, about the differences between his parents, suddenly made sense. “That was sad.”

“Prejudice doesn’t have a home,” he said simply. “So they soldiered on. Mom said he started drinking soon after I was born. Dreams die hard. He couldn’t bear the loss of his.” His big hand gripped the steering wheel hard. His free hand found hers and linked her fingers with his. It helped the pain. “She wanted to go to a meeting at the local school that I attended, for parents. I was ten and I was watching a movie on television. I didn’t want to go. She said I could stay home, it didn’t matter. My father complained because he didn’t want to go, but she pleaded. She got in the car with him. He’d been drinking all day.”

She tightened her fingers in his.

“He took a curve too fast and went off into the river. She drowned while he swam to shore.”

“Oh, gosh,” she ground out.

“I didn’t know until the local police came to the door. My father ran for his life. He’d have gone to jail without a doubt, under the circumstances. My mother was dead. Something inside me died with her. I haven’t seen my father or spoken to him since,” he added curtly. “I was placed in state custody until I was adopted by a kind older couple who didn’t have any kids of their own. They were well-to-do. I was spoiled. But it didn’t quite make up for what I’d lost. And I didn’t live with them long, just until the fire that took their lives.”

“What about your mother’s people?” she wondered.

“Dead,” he said icily. “I wouldn’t have known, but I turned out to be the only legal heir they had. I inherited their estate.” Which amounted to a few million dollars, but he didn’t say so.

“I’m really sorry,” she said softly. “I can only imagine how hard that would have been for you. But at least you had somebody who loved you, J.C. A lot of people don’t even have that.”

“I know.”

Her fingers tightened on his. “You’re still living in the past,” she said, her voice tender. “You can’t do that. Life doesn’t have a reset button.”

He laughed shortly. “Tell me about it.” He took a breath. “I lived in the Yukon Territory in Canada, but I was born in Montana. My folks were visiting a cousin who lived near Billings when Mom went into labor. So I have dual citizenship. When I was old enough, I joined the American Army,” he added, skipping over much that had happened to him in between. “I served overseas, in Special Forces, which is where I met Ren and your brother.”

“Were you in the Army a long time?” she asked.

“Somewhat.”

So there were still secrets. He didn’t trust her enough to tell her. But he’d told her things she was certain he hadn’t shared with any other woman. It was flattering.

“Then there was her,” he added coldly, and his fingers became bruising.

“Her?”

“Cecelia,” he said through his teeth. “I was just out of basic training. I’d never been to a town larger than Whitehorse, up in the Yukon. Just a few thousand people, an isolated community,” he added. “I wound up in New Jersey on liberty. I didn’t smoke or drink, so I always had pocket money, even before I inherited my grandparents’ estate. Cecelia knew one of the boys in my unit, and he said I was loaded. So she came looking for me.”

“Oh, dear,” she said, because she could guess where this was going.

“I didn’t know that, of course. I thought it was an accidental meeting, when one of my friends in basic introduced me to her. I didn’t know she’d arranged it.” He stared straight ahead. “She was beautiful. The most beautiful human creature I’d ever seen. She was poised, sophisticated, talented.” He grimaced. “I thought she was perfect. I fell head over heels in love the first night. She could turn me inside out. She was like a drug, an addiction. I’d never known so much pleasure.”

She was jealous, but she didn’t let on. She just listened.

He was lost in the past, drowning in misery. “We went around together for weeks. I took her to the opera, the theater, to symphony concerts. Even to a rock concert. I bought her designer clothing and diamonds. She really seemed to love me. I certainly loved her.”

His fingers were hurting, but she didn’t move, didn’t speak.

“It was her birthday. I’d bought her a sapphire necklace she’d admired at a high-end jewelry store and I went to her apartment to give it to her. The door was open. She was talking to a male friend who was with her. She was talking about me, about how stupid and gullible I was, about how she’d scammed me into buying her all sorts of expensive presents. She thought it was hilarious. I didn’t even have enough sophistication to realize that she was a call girl, that she sold her body for money.”

“What a miserable human being,” she said quietly.

He laughed. It had a hollow sound. “She was right. I was naive. But I grew up very suddenly. I opened the door and walked in. She was wearing a negligee, almost transparent, and her companion had on nothing except his underwear. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she saw me and realized what I’d overheard. I didn’t say a word. I turned around and walked out.”

“Did she try to call you?” she wondered.

“She asked one of my friends to tell me she was sorry and that she’d like to start over. I told him where she could go, and how fast. I never saw her again.”

“I really do live a sheltered life,” she remarked after a minute. “I didn’t know there were people like that in the world. I don’t really understand greed. I’ve never felt it.”

“I noticed that about you.”

She smiled. “I like simple things. Flower gardens. Kittens. Just walking in the woods. Stuff like that. I’ve never liked diamonds or fancy jewelry, or fancy clothes. It’s not me.”

He loosened the tight grip of his fingers. They became caressing. “You’re nothing like her.”

“Thanks.” She hesitated. “I think.”

He laughed. “It was a compliment.”

“Okay.”

He glanced at her curiously. “I’ve never talked about her. Or about my parents.”

“I never repeat anything I’m told. I work as a legal administrative assistant,” she added. “Even though I just basically answer the phone and take dictation, I’ve been trained to keep my mouth shut. I guess it carries over to my private life.”

“I guess.” He smiled. “You’re a good listener.”

“Sometimes people just need to talk. That’s what Daddy says. He went to see a man who was suicidal. The man put down the gun he was holding and walked out of the room with Daddy. The place was surrounded with police, even a SWAT team. They all just gawked. They asked Daddy how he talked the man out of it, and he said he didn’t say a word. He just listened. That was all the poor soul needed, somebody to just listen. He’d lost his wife and child in a wreck and he didn’t think he could go on. He had nobody to talk to. So Daddy just listened.”

“You listen, too, Colie. It’s a bigger help than you realize.” His mouth pulled to one side. “I don’t have anyone of my own,” he added quietly.

“Yes, you do,” she said boldly, and curled her fingers around his, without looking at him.

He couldn’t have imagined anyone getting a hold on his heart this quickly, but she’d managed it. She’d become the color in his life, in a space of only weeks. For her own sake, he should let her go. But he couldn’t.

* * *

HE WALKED HER to her door. The porch light was on. There was still a light burning in her father’s study. He’d be working on Sunday’s sermon, she knew. He spent days putting just the right words together.

“Your dad’s waiting up for you,” he mused.

She laughed. “Not really. He works on his Sunday sermon a little every night, until he has it the way he wants it.”

“He looks out for you, too, though.” He touched her short, wavy hair. “I’ll bet he’s never taken a drink in his life,” he said, with more bitterness than he realized.

“No,” she agreed. “He doesn’t drink or smoke. He says addictions are much too dangerous. It’s better not to acquire them.”

“He has a point.” He bent and rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t drink or smoke, either. Well, I have a beer occasionally. Never any hard liquor.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted liquor,” she confessed.

“Just as well.” He bent and brushed his mouth gently over hers. “I enjoyed tonight.”

“I did, too.”

He drew back all too soon. He put his hands on her shoulders and just looked at her. “I’m going to be out of town for several days.” His mouth pulled to one side. “Ren signed me up for a gadget convention—new toys for ranch security. I have to go.”

“Where?”

“Just Denver,” he said. “Not too far away. Stay out of trouble until I get back.”

She laughed. Her eyes lit up when she did that. “Okay.”

“Not that you ever get in trouble in the first place,” he mused.

“I wouldn’t dare,” she said in a stage whisper, indicating the house behind her.

He smiled. “We might see a movie when I come back.”

“There’s that new science fiction one opening next week,” she pointed out. They’d discussed it on the way to Lander.

“We’ll go, then. See you.”

“See you.”

He walked away. She noticed that he never looked back. She wondered why. It seemed to be a long-standing habit.

She went inside and put up her coat and purse. She tapped on the door of her father’s study and opened it.

He looked up from his notes. He smiled. “Did you have a good time?”

“I did. I won enough to catch up the bills.” She grinned at his expression. “I know, it’s sinful money. But it will be very useful for the electric bill.” She struck a pose. “If it wasn’t meant to happen, I’d have lost every penny.”

He laughed. “All right. I won’t say anything.” He was looking at her intently. After a minute he turned his attention back to his notes. “Sleep good.”

“You, too. Night.”

She closed the door.

Her father was wise enough to notice that she hadn’t indulged in any heavy petting with J.C. Such signs were quite visible. It gave him a little hope. J.C. might not turn out to be as bad an influence as he’d feared.

* * *

THE WEEK DRAGGED BY. Colie typed up briefs, printed them out, took dictation, scheduled clients, helped open mail and generally buried herself in work to keep J.C. out of her mind.

“You’re daydreaming, girl,” Lucy, her coworker teased. “It’s that handsome man from the Yukon, isn’t it?”

She didn’t deny it. “Small towns,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“Well, my cousin runs the filling station where J.C. buys gas and he mentioned he was going to Lander with a friend. Since he doesn’t have any friends...” Lucy trailed off.

“He does so. He has me.”

Lucy grinned at Colie’s mischievous expression. “Anyway, we figured he was taking you over to the casino. Win much?”

“I won enough to pay the light bill,” Colie said. “And get a few extra minutes a month on my phone. It was nice.”

“I know what you mean. I had to give up bowling for two nights because I blew a tire and had to replace it,” the other woman sighed. “Ben’s so understanding. I ran over a piece of metal in the road. I wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t even blink. He just kissed me and said he was grateful that I didn’t get hurt. That’s what I call a nice husband.”

“You two really are great together,” Colie said. “You’re the same kind of people. You come from similar backgrounds.”

“And we’ve known each other since kindergarten,” was the droll reply.

“Did you ever think of just living together?” Colie asked, trying not to sound as curious as she was. She was thinking ahead, in case J.C. ever brought it up.

“Not really,” Lucy confided. “My dad’s a pharmacist. Good luck trying to get birth control in Catelow without him finding out. Besides that, he’s a deacon in your father’s church. People around here are clannish, and they don’t move with the times. Maybe we have couples who sneak around at night to motels over near Jackson Hole, but we really don’t have many who just live together. They get married and raise kids.”

“I’d love to have kids,” Colie said softly. “I can’t think of anything in the world I want more.”

“So do Ben and I,” Lucy said. “But we’re just starting out. We figure we’ll have a couple of years to grow together better before we start on a family.”

“That’s wise.”

“We think so.” She cocked her head. “What about you and J.C.?” she asked. “I’m not prying.”

“I know.” She hesitated. “I don’t know, Lucy,” she said honestly. “He’s already said he’s not the pipe-and-slippers type, and he doesn’t really want children.” She bit her lower lip. “You can’t change people. You have to just accept them the way they are.” Her face was drawn with pain. “I keep thinking, if I’d refused to go out with him...”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” Lucy said wisely. “People fall in love. I don’t think they get a choice about who they fall in love with.”

Colie laughed. “No. It’s like your family. You don’t get to choose them, either.”

Lucy grimaced. “Your father would give you a real hard time if you tried to move in with J.C. To say nothing of the rest of the community. There’s barely a thousand people who live in and around Catelow. You couldn’t hide it.”

“I’ve worried about that. I’d like to think I’d say no. But...”

“He might turn out to be conventional,” Lucy ventured. “He knows how your father feels.”

“It wouldn’t matter. I don’t think J.C. had much of a home life,” she confided. “He was more or less orphaned in grammar school.”

“That’s tough.”

“You mustn’t repeat that,” Colie said.

“You know me. I work for lawyers,” she whispered, pointing down the hall. “They’d barbecue me on the front steps if I ever talked about what I know!”

“Same here,” Colie said, laughing. The smile faded as she shuffled papers on her desk, across from Lucy’s. “He doesn’t know what it’s like to have a settled, happy home. That might explain the way he is. He doesn’t like attachments.”

“He’s obviously attached to you,” her friend said.

“So far,” Colie sighed. “I don’t know how long it will last. We’re very different.”

“May I make a suggestion? Stop trying to control your life and just live it.”

Colie drew in a long breath. “That’s what I keep telling myself. Then I remember how Daddy looked when I said I was going out with J.C. and I feel guilty all over again. He reminded me that J.C. isn’t a person of faith. In some circumstances, that can be a huge drawback.”

“People compromise,” Lucy said. “Ben and I have. You and J.C. will find a way to be together that works for both of you.”

“I hope so.” She lowered her eyes. “I can’t give him up, Lucy,” she whispered. “I love him too much, already.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’m here. And I’m not judgmental,” Lucy reminded her.

Colie smiled. “Thanks.”