THE TEXAS TATTLER

All the news that’s barely fit to print!

“Wrong” Baby Rescued

Will the Real Father Please Stand Up?

A sigh of relief turned into hysteria earlier this week when a child recovered by the FBI and thought to be the abducted Bryan Fortune was actually an unidentified boy of roughly the same age. Blood tests and the distinctive crown-shaped birthmark confirm that the child is, however, a Fortune. Scandalous! Kidnappers remain at large.

The mystery child, “Taylor,” is being cared for at the jaw-drop-ping 500,000-acre Fortune “Western paradise,” but no word yet on the identity of the child’s father. Looks like one Fortune boy’s past just caught up to him—and is wearing a diaper.

Now, is this any time for company at the Double Crown Ranch? Insider sources verify that unwed Savannah Clark, college chum to Vanessa Fortune, arrived on the mansion doorstep yesterday hefting luggage and carrying a secret…in her belly. Better make that room for two more! Is there another undisclosed daddy in the house?

About the Author

MARIE FERRARELLA

is a RITA® Award winner and USA TODAY bestselling author with over 140 titles for Silhouette Books.

Marie was born in Germany, raised in New York City and currently lives in Southern California with her husband, their two children and a German shepherd named Rocky. She holds a Masters of Arts with a concentration in Shakespearean comedy from Queens College. Her interests include old movies, old songs and musical theater, and her motto is Always Be Prepared. (She sewed her own wedding dress and made it wash-and-wear “just in case”!)

Expecting…in Texas
Marie Ferrarella

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Meet the Fortunes of Texas

Cruz Perez: The carefree cowboy has never imagined himself as the baby-powder-and-diaper type, but honor demands he propose to the mother of his unborn child. Trouble is, the expectant beauty insists she doesn’t want to become a wife….

Savannah Clark: The mom-to-be isn’t eager to build a marriage for her baby’s sake. She wants love—and is determined to show her cowboy how passion can lead to the promise of forever.

Rosita Perez: Everyone knows the Fortunes’ housekeeper has a penchant for seeing the future. But when she envisions a connection between Maria Cassidy and the mysterious recovered baby, will anyone heed her premonition?

Maggie Perez Randall: The single mother has finally returned home to the bosom of her Texas family. Will the Double Crown Ranch be the place to make a new life for herself and her son?

To Melissa Jeglinski,

With love and appreciation

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

One

Her baby’s father was here, somewhere, amid the throng of people who had turned out at the Double Crown Ranch to see Vanessa Fortune pledge her hand and her heart to the tall, good-looking FBI special agent Devin Kincaid.

Would there be a wedding like this for her someday? Savannah Clark wondered as she came to the end of her short journey down the aisle and stepped to the side. Would there be a man waiting for her someday, looking the way Devin did right at this moment? A little dazed, a little dazzled, and very much in love?

God, but she hoped so.

Just as Savannah turned and the Wedding March swelled, she saw him.

Cruz Perez had been looking at her. Their eyes met, touched, and she saw his smile. Felt his smile. That wide, sexy, scintillating smile that had made her lose her head, and perhaps her heart, for the space of a night three months ago at baby Bryan’s christening party.

And perhaps, for even more than that.

Just as before, Cruz made her feel as if she were the only one there besides him. A very neat trick, considering just how many people had arrived at the ranch northwest of San Antonio to be crowded in neat rows of folding chairs set up before the altar. They were there to see the wedding of one of Ryan Fortune’s twin daughters.

With a supreme effort, Savannah looked away from Cruz and toward the bride—her best friend from college. But she could still feel his intense gaze upon her. Color rose to her cheeks, but she kept her eyes riveted to the back of the house, where Vanessa was making her entrance.

Looking like a dapper, proud lion Ryan Fortune solemnly walked down the aisle with his daughter on his arm. But it was Vanessa who immediately stole everyone’s attention, in her beautiful, formfitting long white lace gown with its delicate Spanish lace veil that eloquently trailed after her. The handmade veil represented something borrowed as well as something old. Cruz’s mother Rosita, the Fortune’s housekeeper had worn it herself forty years ago, when she had married Ruben. It had been a gift to her from Vanessa’s own mother, Janine Fortune— Ryan’s late first wife.

Now it was a tradition, Savannah mused. A lovely tradition. Vanessa would probably pass it on to her daughters when the time came.

And what would she pass on to her child? What sort of tradition could she give to a baby who was starting out life with only one parent, its very identity a secret that couldn’t be shared?

Not now Savannah ordered herself sternly.

This wasn’t the time for sad thoughts, only happy ones. She wished her hormones would stop swinging back and forth like a pendulum running amok, and just settle down to an even tempo. Pregnancy was making her lose her bearings; she wasn’t accustomed to being like this.

Savannah stepped a little further to the side as Vanessa reached the altar that Cruz and his father had finished erecting only hours earlier. Vanessa gave up her bouquet to Savannah, a look filled with friendship and memories passing between them. Savannah was surprised to discover that Vanessa’s fingertips were icy. She couldn’t picture Vanessa afraid of anything.

Marriage was a big step and even if you were sure, you were still nervous, Savannah suddenly realized.

“Good luck,” she mouthed. Vanessa brightened.

The soft buzzing behind them stopped, and the legion of guests fell silent as Reverend Callaway began to speak the words that would forever seal Vanessa and Devin to one another as husband and wife.

Savannah felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she listened to the precious vows—promises of a lifetime together. She remembered eyes that had made promises to her.

Promises that completely undid her that passionate, wonderful day, three months ago.

Savannah’s mind had heard and understood the risks of falling for someone like Cruz. But her heart, well, her heart had been a completely different matter.

She tried to protect her heart now by holding back the memories, but they came anyway, like a flood that no barrier could hold at bay….

“Would you like to dance?”

Five simple words, tendered politely, that were destined to seal Savannah’s fate. They had come floating to her, uttered by a voice that had just the smallest whisper of a Mexican accent.

All around her, couples were having a good time, dancing at Bryan Fortune’s christening party. Savannah had always loved music, but had never had the time to learn how to dance. She was content now to stand on the sidelines and listen.

But she never got a chance to refuse Cruz. Even as she turned around to face him, he was taking her hand in his and leading her to the dance floor that he had helped construct.

A small wave of panic swept through her. She hated looking like a fool. “Wait, I didn’t say yes,” she protested.

Facing her, Cruz was already taking her into his arms. “Oh, but you did. With your eyes.” He fitted her body against his in a provocative move that was smoother than silk. Resting her hand against his chest, he smiled into her eyes. “I always pay very close attention to a lady’s eyes. They tell me things she doesn’t trust her mouth to say.”

Savannah could feel her pulse accelerating and wondered if it was because of the wine she’d had, or the man she was with. For now, it was enough just to savor the thrill.

“Such as?”

The smile that curved his full, sensuous mouth cut clear down to her bones. “Such as— Yes, I would love to dance with you instead of standing here, only swaying to the music.”

He was right, but she felt as if she had to protest. “I was not swaying.”

His eyes laughed at her, and instantly she found herself being charmed. “Oh, but you were. I’ve been watching you for a while now.”

She tried very hard not to be flattered but knew that the effort was doomed to failure. After all, he could have been with anyone yet, he’d made his way to her without any encouragement on her part. She would have been less than human if some of the pride that her recent broken engagement had shredded so badly hadn’t responded to that.

Even though she could feel electricity humming between them, she tried to keep the moment light. Amusement tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Nothing better to do than to watch a woman keeping time to the music?”

Cruz leaned his head against hers. “Nothing.”

He breathed the word so enticingly that every nerve ending along her body stood up in response. Savannah felt as if she were floating, not just across the floor, but all around. She felt as if everything within her had suddenly come awake again after a very long, troubled sleep.

Awake and aroused.

She struggled very hard to keep things in perspective, but even then she sensed she was doomed to lose.

They danced several dances together—danced and talked. With each new dance, he subtly moved her farther away from the crowd. And closer to him.

“Tell me, why does a lovely woman like you find herself alone at such a lavish party?”

“But I’m not alone.” Feeling suddenly very light-headed, and maybe just a little giddy, she decided to play along and match Cruz, move for move, on a chessboard designed for sensuality and verbal foreplay. “I’m with you.”

“Yes, yes, you are,” he agreed heartily. “Perhaps I should have asked why you arrived alone.” His eyes studied her for a fleeting second. “I seem to have touched something hurtful. I’m sorry.”

God, what was the matter with her? A handsome hunk of a man was flirting with her, and she was letting her ex-fiancé Reese Culhane intrude and mess things up. Reese—who could look at her after she’d been with him for so long, after she’d given her heart to him, and say without a qualm that he’d fallen in love with someone else.

She shook her head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It’s not your fault.”

“Perhaps. But what I said reminded you of the wound, and for that, I apologize.”

She’d come to the christening party to forget about Reese and the years she’d wasted loving him. He wasn’t worth a memory, not now when she realized how very shallow he actually was.

Savannah placed her fingers to Cruz’s lips, silencing his apology. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

His hand covering hers, he lightly kissed her fingertips. “Then we won’t. We’ll enjoy the music.” He looked into her eyes so deeply that she was certain he’d touched her soul. “And the company.”

Looking back later, Savannah knew that was the moment—the precise moment—when she fell completely under Cruz’s spell. That was the moment when she decided to forget everything that troubled her—the heartache that had come along with her on this trip—so she could witness the christening of her best friend Vanessa’s nephew. She made up her mind to live for the moment.

And the moment had been touched by Cruz.

“I’ve completely forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Cruz Perez,” he whispered against her ear. And it was as if his very name was a magical cure to heal a heart that had been so badly misused.

Enjoying the warmth that shimmied up and down her spine, Savannah smiled to herself. “Yes, I know. I asked Vanessa about you. I’m Savannah Clark.”

It wasn’t a very sophisticated thing to admit. Saying it, Savannah fully expected Cruz to look at her like a male peacock whose vanity had been stroked. Instead, there had been an amused, partially obscured look in his eyes when he turned them on her.

As if her admission surprised him.

“You did?”

She nodded her head, excitement picking up pace. “Yes.”

“And what is it she told you?” He cocked his head, waiting for her reply.

Vanessa’s exact words came back to her. And looking at Cruz, Savannah could see why they had more than a kernel of truth to them. The man had incredibly disarming eyes and an equally disarming, wicked mouth.

“That mothers lock up their daughters when you’re around.”

He merely laughed at the warning. The sound wound its way deep into her system.

“Locked doors are really not an obstacle if someone is determined to get out.” His eyes glinted with mischief and sensuality. “Or get in.”

Looking into his eyes, Savannah had to remind herself to breathe. It took longer for her to find her tongue again.

“Vanessa says that you’re the best horse trainer the ranch ever had,” she said, abruptly steering the topic to safer ground. As she heard the words come out of her mouth, Savannah upbraided herself for sounding as stilted as a first-grade composition.

He smiled, looking over toward where Vanessa was standing. “Vanessa is known for her kind tongue.”

Savannah was the first to agree that Vanessa had a huge heart. But she was also honest. “Yes, but she doesn’t exaggerate.” And Vanessa had been very adamant about Cruz’s abilities—just as adamant about them as she’d been in her warning.

The band took a well-deserved break, and Savannah found herself alone with Cruz—farther away from the house than she’d realized.

It was as if the air had suddenly stopped moving around her, freezing everything except the two of them. Her eyes trapped by his, Savannah felt her heart hammering wildly.

As he leaned in to kiss her, she turned her head away at the last possible moment. She felt his lips brush against her hair. It was all she could do to take half a step back. Her mind scrambled for something to say. “Show them to me.”

Cruz blinked. “Excuse me?”

Savannah swallowed. She probably sounded like a complete idiot. “Your horses. I’d like to see your horses.”

Cruz paused, seeming to asses her motivation. “They aren’t mine.” He hesitated. “But maybe they’re more mine than anyone’s.”

He took her hand in his. “You’re not exactly dressed to go tramping through the stables.”

When he looked at her like that, as if he knew every thought in her head, every feeling in her heart, she found it difficult to think coherently.

“Dresses can be cleaned,” she finally managed to get out.

His eyes washed over her slowly, making her warm, making her tremble inside—without so much as a word. And then, he laced his fingers through hers and turned away from the party.

And toward the stables.

“Well, what do you think?”

Hellfire was easily the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. It seemed fitting that the animal belonged to someone like Cruz. Both proud, magnificently regal—they belonged together. He told her that Vanessa had presented him with Hellfire for his twenty-fifth birthday.

Murmuring words of endearment, Savannah gently ran her hand along the horse’s muzzle, stroking it. “I think she’s beautiful.”

Leaning against the stall, Cruz laughed. “It’s a he, not a she. You can tell the difference by—”

“Yes,” she said quickly, before Cruz felt called upon to go into an anatomy lesson. “I know exactly how to tell the difference. I was raised on a ranch.”

Flustered, the color came rushing to her cheeks as she stepped away. It had been too crowded in the stall at first for her to clearly view the golden quarter horse. Now that she did, the gender was obvious.

His laughter continued. Savannah could feel her color deepen on her cheeks. “Don’t laugh at me.”

Guiding her away from Hellfire, Cruz drew her toward an empty stall. “Oh, but I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at how impossibly sweet and innocent you seem.”

Stung, she raised her chin in protest. “I’m not innocent.”

His laughter melted into a wide, sensuous smile. “Oh, excuse me. But of course, you’re very worldly.”

Her parents were worldly. In an effort to be less like them, she had avoided all their trappings. Maybe, in the long run, that left her a little naive.

She shrugged, looking away. “Well, all right, not very, but—”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, drawing her attention back to him. And the moment. Savannah lost the thread of her protest.

The wide smile was gone, replaced by a smaller, more intense one that curled her toes. With the tip of his finger, he toyed with a wisp of hair that fell against her cheek.

“And as a worldly woman, you wouldn’t be offended if I kissed you?”

Was he asking for permission? Savannah’s mouth went dry.

“If you—what?” she barely whispered.

His hands tightened ever so slightly on her shoulders as he brought her closer to him. “I prefer showing to talking.”

She held her breath. Cruz slipped his hands from her shoulders up along the sides of her throat until his fingers gently framed her face. She felt every movement, vibrated with every heartbeat.

Waiting.

Anticipating.

This was so completely out of character for her that, for a brief moment, Savannah was convinced she was actually standing on the sidelines, watching, just like with the dance.

But she wasn’t on the sidelines; she was in the heart of the dance. In the heart of the seduction as it unfurled around her, bit by heated bit.

She melted the moment his lips touched hers, a snowflake unable to keep its shape when it was blown into the path of a sunbeam.

The moan that escaped her lips was a sound of pure surrender.

He deepened the kiss, assaulting her mouth again and again. Savannah shivered as he tugged at the zipper that ran the length of her back. As he drew it all the way down, she felt the dress move away from her body.

And at that moment, she knew there was nothing she could refuse him.

Savannah couldn’t get her bearings. Everything melted into everything else. The stable, the horses, the hay within the stall—all faded from her consciousness. All that there was, was Cruz. Cruz—with his thick, dark hair that flowed to almost the tops of his shoulders. Cruz—with his heartstopping smile, his deep brown eyes that undid her, and his hard, sleek body that quickened her pulse. Cruz—who had the ability to reduce her to a mass of molten desire.

She’d never behaved this way before, never abandoned herself, her common sense, her ethics before. She didn’t believe in casual affairs—in casual anything, for that matter.

Yet here she was, giving herself to a man she’d only danced with. Wanting a man she’d barely met. Feeling as if she’d known him her entire life.

It made no sense. And yet, it was happening.

Each place he touched her quivering body seemed a revelation to her, leaving her bewildered, anticipating, yearning. Though not completely inexperienced, she knew she was merely a dazed novice at his hands. A novice with a thirst for learning.

He made her feel beautiful, like a queen beneath his hand, a wild woman beneath his questing mouth. It was as if every fiber of her body was on fire, and he was fanning the flames.

Explosions racked her body as Cruz skillfully moved his fingers, his lips and his tongue over her. There were points along her body she’d thought harmless, certainly not centers of passion.

Until now.

The skin behind her knees, the space inside her elbow, the hollow of her throat—all these he teased, all these he turned into places of heated desire. And when he moved lower, when he finally drove himself into her, she thought herself too weak, too spent to react.

She was wrong.

Everything that came before was but a warm-up act for a finale that left Savannah sobbing his name, biting her lower lip for fear of screaming and bringing everyone here—to this stable where she felt reborn.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The words uttered by the minister abruptly drew Savannah back to the wedding. What was wrong with her? This was Vanessa’s moment. She was here to share it with her, not relive one night of passion best forgotten.

Two

“You came back.”

Only ten minutes into the wedding reception, Savannah’s stomach merged with her heart and both instantly raced for her throat. She wasn’t sure just which won the narrow space for its own as she turned around to face Cruz for the first time since that heated encounter in the stables.

Dressed in a black, embroidered western jacket and a light blue shirt that made his complexion that much more romantically olive, Cruz was standing behind her, a glass of punch in each hand.

It must have been her stomach that won the race, Savannah reasoned. Because her heart had stopped. Completely.

Cruz nodded toward the glasses, his smile unfurling like warm brandy sipped slowly on a cold day. “I seem to find myself with two glasses. Would you like to help me out and take one?”

She became aware that she was smiling in return. Widely. Savannah reminded herself that there was absolutely no reason for her to behave like a tongue-tied adolescent. Yes, he was beautiful, and yes, they had made wild, wonderful, passionate love together. But in the greater scheme of things, that meant nothing.

Nothing, except that their night of lovemaking had produced a baby. A baby she wasn’t ever going to let Cruz know was his. Because she would never tie him to her. Not with bonds—like her parents—forged out of guilt.

Savannah inclined her head as she took the glass. “I guess I could, just this once.”

She looked at the way the red punch caught the sun within it and gleamed invitingly. Almost as invitingly as Cruz’s eyes had that night.

And now.

She raised her eyes to his. “And why wouldn’t I come back for my best friend’s wedding?”

“No reason.” He shrugged. His eyes traveled over the soft contours of her face. Savannah felt as if he were actually touching her. “Except that you left so quickly the last time we were together. When I woke, you were gone. I thought that perhaps it was something I’d said. Or done.”

His smile was so sensual that she struggled to keep her mind on the conversation.

Yes, it was something you’d done. You completely unraveled me, made me behave so that I didn’t even recognize myself. And then made me want more.

Savannah took a long sip before she spoke, her throat suddenly too parched to house dust.

“I had to get back.” She purposely looked past his head as she spoke. “I had papers to grade. It was the end of the semester—the end of the year,” she corrected, silently chastising herself for stumbling.

But while she’d always been very self-assured in her chosen professional life as an elementary school teacher, her personal one, especially since Reese had left, was another matter entirely. Even before Reese had broken her heart by breaking off their engagement, she had never been very experienced when it came to men.

That was probably why he’d strayed and ultimately left, she had come to realize. Because she wasn’t exciting enough to hold him. All he’d wanted, apparently, was a woman who was as empty of mind as she was well endowed of body.

But Savannah had always been praised more for her mind than her looks. She was not the type who instantly attracted men. That was part of the reason she’d been so flattered by Cruz and his attention. He could have had any woman—and there had been plenty at the party. Yet he’d singled her out.

She couldn’t help wondering why.

“Good.” Pleased, he nodded his head. “Then it wasn’t me. What about now?”

She didn’t understand. “Now?”

“Will you be leaving tomorrow?” He raised one eyebrow, as if he could see right through her excuse, right through her. “More papers to grade?”

Was he asking her because he wanted to be sure that she wouldn’t be around to become a problem? Or was he asking because he wanted to know whether she’d grown up a little, become a little more sophisticated?

Savannah couldn’t make up her mind which it was. Not when she was being so distracted by the look in his eyes, by the way his lips moved when he spoke. There was no doubt about it— Cruz Perez was raw sex and sensuality, served up on a section of delicious toast.

It was a crisp September afternoon. There was even a bit of a chill in the wind. Yet she felt so warm, as if the air around her were heated by his presence.

It took a moment, but she finally found her voice, and with it a little bit of conviction. “No, no papers to grade.”

“Oh. Right. It’s too early.” He looked at her knowingly. “You’re one of the nice teachers.”

“One of the nice teachers?” she echoed, not sure what he was driving at. Was he referring to some sort of exclusive club? Whatever it was, he’d called her nice, and she liked that. Liked thinking that he’d meant it. “What makes you say that?”

“Instinct,” he said, sounding sincere.

His mother was the “seer” around here, the one who had dreams she claimed came true. It was only so in about a third of the cases, although no one went out of their way to point the fact out to her. But even so, if there was a scrap of truth about her abilities, maybe they were passed on. Maybe he’d inherent a smattering of it himself. Because he was beginning to sense things about Savannah Clark, things that he found enticing and pleasing.

Casually, Cruz threaded his arm around her shoulders.

He had no way of knowing how intimate that felt to her, Savannah thought. Or maybe he did, and that was the whole point of it. She struggled not to enjoy the feeling as much as she did. Allowing herself to venture deeper into the trap really wouldn’t help anything in the long run.

But logic didn’t seem to be working for her today, she thought. Magic was. His magic.

“I always used to hate it when the teachers would give long assignments the first week of school,” he confided. “I couldn’t shake the feeling that they did it to get back at us because they had to return from their vacations and work again.”

Habit made her protective of her vocation. “That’s not true. It’s to get students back into a thinking mode after they’ve been playing all summer.” And Savannah didn’t have to ask to know that Cruz had been one of those students who had played the hardest and the longest.

“There’s nothing wrong with playing.” His mouth curved a little more deeply, drawing her in further still. “It can be hard work, too.”

Not for him, she thought. For him, it came naturally. Like breathing. Like kissing.

“Maybe you’re right.”

His face turned toward hers, Cruz lightly touched the outline of her pearl drop earring and sent it swaying ever so slightly.

“So,” he asked softly, “you like to stimulate your students?”

Her blood was beginning to roar through her veins, like Indy-500 stock cars revving up their engines. She had to concentrate on each word to get it out.

“Getting them to think for themselves is always a good thing.”

He smiled to himself, seeing the effect he was having on her. That it heightened his own excitement was a bonus in the bargain.

“And you are an expert on that?” he teased. “On thinking?”

Her knees felt like water. Which made her knees and her mind a perfect set.

Savannah licked her lips. “Not an expert, but—”

She stopped. Cruz was making her feel flustered, and he knew it. She could tell by the look in his eyes. Why couldn’t she resist him? Why couldn’t she be sophisticated like Vanessa or one of her other friends, and just exchange teasing phrases?

He moved slightly to stand in front of her, his brown eyes challenging her. “Tell me, Savannah, what am I thinking now?”

He’d never called her by her name before. It seemed to float to her on his tongue, making her feel even warmer than she already was. She was beginning to wish fervently that the bridesmaid dress had been sleeveless instead of having tight, long sleeves that ended a little over her wrists. She had a feeling even that wouldn’t help to cool her off.

After a moment, she found her breath. “That you’d like to dance with me.” It was a stab in the dark, and probably wrong, but it was the only thing that came to her.

The deep, lusty laugh enveloped her as Cruz obviously enjoyed her answer.

That was definitely not what had been on his mind. He was thinking of the way she’d looked, with only the moonlight sneaking into the stables. She’d looked soft and pliant, with the sheen of lovemaking still fresh on her firm, nude body and seeing her like that had made him want to make love to her all over again.

“All right,” he agreed amiably. “We can do that if you’d like.”

She’d been right. Dancing hadn’t been on his mind. But she was afraid to think what had been. Afraid to think because she might be right.

More afraid because she might be wrong—and disappointed.

Taking the glass from her hand, Cruz placed it on the first available flat surface, then gently took her into his arms.

She tried not to let the warmth of Cruz’s body seep into hers. She might as well have tried to breathe under water. It couldn’t be done.

Savannah felt like a princess, just like the first time they had danced.

“I looked for you, you know. The morning after,” he added when she looked up at him questioningly. “I was surprised that you had gone so quickly.”

She’d gone because the reality of what she had done had suddenly hit her with the force of a two-ton truck. She’d been embarrassed and somewhat ashamed, as well. And more than that, she’d been afraid that he would laugh at her, at how easily he’d been able to seduce her. She couldn’t have faced his laughter. Better to walk away with a lovely memory than to deal with aftermath and reality.

Except that now she had to.

She studied his face, looking for an answer, trying not to let herself be distracted. “Why would you look for me?”

“Why does any man look for a woman?”

She lifted one shoulder beneath her gown in a half shrug. “For a very long list of reasons,” she murmured evasively as he spun her around.

“Shorten it,” he whispered against her hair.

Urges began to grow, to multiply within her.

No, not this time, Savannah warned silently, trying hard to steel herself. She couldn’t allow herself to give in again.

No matter what she wanted, she had to maintain a barrier. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to stay here. And the Double Crown was her last hope. She’d been “released” from Pierce Academy after the principal had discovered she was pregnant. Out of sympathy and kindness, Vanessa had offered her a job and a place to stay at the ranch for as long as she wanted it.

Savannah had no other options. She absolutely refused to turn to either of her parents. They had already done enough for her by getting married in the first place to give her a name. For that, they’d each paid dearly and continually suffered one another’s company in a union that should never have been allowed to take place. She’d left home as soon as she was old enough, unable to stand the guilt of knowing she’d inadvertently ruined two people’s lives just by drawing breath.

It was a fate she was determined that she was never going to bequeath to her child.

Putting on her most carefree face, Savannah turned it up to him. “Is it your sworn duty to seduce every woman under the age of fifty?”

He saw the smile playing on her lips and realized she was teasing rather than being coy. With Savannah, there was a difference.

“Only the beautiful ones.”

“Oh, I see.” Beautiful. It was a word she’d never heard applied to herself, and she didn’t cleave to it now. “Then you’re just practicing on me.”

“Practicing?” For a second, Cruz didn’t understand, then he realized that perhaps she was being coy after all. “Querida, I don’t need practice. And you are the prize.”

She laughed shortly. She’d been an ugly duckling as a child, a fact that only added to her parents’ misery. Neither could believe that they had created such a plain child between them, when they were both regarded as extremely good-looking in their circles.

“I’m hardly that.”

He cocked his head, looking at her. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

The subject made her uncomfortable. She’d heard enough taunts as a child to instinctively brace herself for a punch line at her expense. “I don’t think about the way I look at all.”

“It’s a lie.” Cruz called her on it, looking amused. “Every woman thinks about how she looks—if she is exciting, if she makes a man’s head turn, his mouth water, his—”

Savannah was afraid to let him go any further. “I don’t.”

His eyes narrowed. “Then you are even more unique than I thought.”

He doesn’t think I’m unique—it’s a line, she told herself.

A line she wished with all her heart she could believe.

Becoming defensive, Savannah raised her chin ever so slightly.

“I’m not unique, I’m stable. Sensible.” She ticked off terms that she’d heard applied to herself over the course of her life.

Cruz made a face at the last word. “Sensible is for shoes.”

He made it sound as if it were a bad thing. She didn’t think so. Maybe it wasn’t a very exciting quality, but she was proud of being sensible—even though what she had done that night in the stable was as far from sensible as the earth was from the moon.

“Not if you work for a living.”

Savannah had struck a chord. Cruz looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment as they whirled around on the floor.

“Maybe you are at that. Sensible,” he added in case she’d lost the thread. “But you are still beautiful,” he insisted.

“It’s the dress.”

“You can put a beautiful gown on a warthog,” he pointed out. “But in the long run, you still have a very ugly animal in a dress.”

She laughed. “You’re very colorful.”

If the compliment pleased him, he gave no indication. “I read.”

The admission caught her interest, appealing to the teacher within her. “A lot?”

He shrugged, perhaps uncomfortable at the confession. “Whenever I get the chance.”

It wasn’t something he often admitted, but he read everything he could get his hands on, determined not to just work with his hands, but with his mind as well. He couldn’t afford to go to college, the way Ryan Fortune’s children had, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t continue learning.

He looked around at the others dancing around them. “I want to know as much as these hidalgos do. More.” That was the whole point of it. They took their education for granted, something that was handed to them. To him, knowledge was a special thing, even if he didn’t readily talk about it.

“Hidalgos?”

“It means—”

“I know what it means,” she interrupted, wanting to get at the heart of his feelings before he changed the subject. “Do you see them that way? The Fortunes?”

He began to laugh off his words, then stopped abruptly. Maybe the role of the smiling, easygoing cowboy was getting to him. God knows he was tired of it, of its confining web.

“There is no other way to see them. Some are kinder than others, to be sure, but all of them see themselves as above the people who work for them.” Chunks of memories crowd his mind. Memories that weren’t always pleasant. Memories that would probably surprise someone like Savannah Clark with her education and her upper crust private school. “When I was growing up, my mother took care of the Fortune children, and my sisters and I played with them. But their father made sure that none of us would ever forget that there was a line between us.” Bitterness infused his smile. “Master and servant.”

“But Vanessa’s not like that,” Savannah protested. She couldn’t picture Vanessa ever putting anyone in their so-called place. Especially not because of the whimsy of fate and financial circumstances. And Vanessa’s brother Dallas wasn’t like that, either. She knew that for a fact.

“No,” Cruz agreed. “She is not. But she is different from them.” He looked pointedly at Savannah. “And different from me.” After a small pause, a smile teased his mouth. “Come, this is far too serious a topic for a wedding, and you are here to have fun.”

But her eyes held his. “That doesn’t mean I can’t learn something.”

“Maybe we can both learn something,” he remarked playfully as he whirled her around the floor once more.

Savannah had the uneasy feeling that she’d just been put on notice.

Three

“Mind if I cut in?”

Cruz looked over his shoulder to see Dallas Fortune standing behind him on the dance floor.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say, yes, he did mind. Because it was, Cruz swallowed the words, a little disturbed that they should have been the ones to rise in response. After all, it wasn’t as if he had any claims on Savannah, or even wanted any. She had just aroused his interest—temporarily.

They’d spent the last few hours together, dancing and talking. He had to admit that he hadn’t realized just how much time he had spent in her company; it had passed so quickly. They had even discussed his plans for a ranch of his own, something he wasn’t in the habit of talking about with anyone outside the family. Even with his family, he remained guarded, using his words sparingly.

But talking to Savannah had been different. Easy. The plans, the dreams, had somehow just been coaxed out by the expression on her face, the light in her eyes.

He’d talked too much. It was high time for him to turn his attention elsewhere, Cruz decided. There were a great many other attractive single women at the party besides Savannah.

There was really no reason for him to stagnate here. No reason at all.

“Be my guest.” Cruz released Savannah’s hand from his and stepped away, giving Dallas a clear field.

His intention was to turn immediately away and seek out the first pretty, unattached woman he came across. But something held him where he was. He watched as Dallas slipped his hand around Savannah’s waist and drew her to him.

A strange, hot feeling rose quickly in Cruz’s chest. He waited for it to fall back down, to fizzle out.

When it didn’t on its own, Cruz banked it down, and was surprised at the effort it took. He didn’t know just what the hell was going on, but he wasn’t about to waste time mulling over it.

He looked around—everywhere but where Dallas and Savannah were dancing—searching for his next companion. Seeing a woman who he thought might provide him with a little diversion, Cruz lost no time crossing to her.

Looking in his direction, the woman smiled a warm invitation.

Cruz returned it. He was glad Dallas had come along to free him up when he did. Maybe Cruz had lost track of time there for a little while, but he was back on track now. It was way past time to change partners.

The song was slow, and Savannah let herself drift with it. The tingling sensation had disappeared. At least her body would have a chance to get back to normal, now that Cruz was no longer holding her.

She rested her head against Dallas’s shoulder. Vanessa’s older brother had always been kind to her, and she liked him. When she and Vanessa had attended college together and Dallas had come up for visits, he’d always made a point of treating her as if she were his sister, too. It had earned him a permanent soft spot in her heart.

“Are you having a good time?” His voice drifted into the contented haze forming around her.

Savannah didn’t bother lifting her head. “Very.” For perhaps the first time in three months, she mused. Since the last time she’d been here.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed by everything.”

Savannah raised her head to look at him. “Overwhelmed?”

Dallas nodded. “We Fortunes have a habit of steamrollering over people—quite unintentionally. Vanessa tells me that you’ll be staying on at the ranch as a bookkeeper.”

How much did he know about that? Self-conscious, Savannah looked away, avoiding his eyes.

She saw Cruz dancing with another woman. Disappointment mushroomed through her even as she tried to subdue it. Cruz was free to do whatever he wanted, be with whomever he wanted. She had no claims on him. None, at any rate, that she was willing to make.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Vanessa didn’t talk you into it, did she?”

The question caught her attention, and Savannah looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Dallas laughed softly. “Well, I know you’re a teacher at that private school. Pierce Academy, isn’t it?”

So he didn’t know that she’d been asked to leave. Relieved, Savannah nodded. This put an entirely different light on the conversation.

“I just wanted to be sure that Vanessa hadn’t twisted your arm to get you to agree to work on the ranch. I know she wasn’t happy that you were so far away.” He smiled at her. “She missed you a lot.”

It was nice to know that someone did. Savannah supposed it was the state she found herself in, but of late she’d felt part misfit, part outcast—and completely vulnerable.

“And I’ve missed her,” she confided. A smile bloomed as she looked up at him. He really did act like a big brother sometimes. She appreciated that the way only an only child could. “That’s very sweet of you, Dallas, worrying about me. But Vanessa didn’t talk me into anything. There have been…cutbacks at the school,” she said evasively. Right now, she didn’t really feel like admitting the truth. She’d have to deal with that soon enough if things worked out and she remained. “I just discovered that I was being let go a few hours before I flew out. Your sister was kind enough to offer me a position here. Luckily, I had some bookkeeping experience in college.”

One song ended and another, its tempo much quicker, began. Dallas gave no indication that he was about to retreat. Instead, his step quickened in time to the music as he swept her around the floor.

“Kind, nothing.” He laughed at the thought. “If you work at the Double Crown Ranch, I guarantee you’ll earn your pay. My father doesn’t let anyone coast along, not even his own kids. Especially his own kids,” Dallas amended. But there was no bitterness in his voice. “A little hard work never killed anyone, but I did want you to know what you were getting yourself into.”

“Information duly noted,” Savannah said, growing a little breathless. Dallas was far more taken with the execution of fancy footwork than Cruz, had been. With Cruz she’d been more aware of bodies moving than flying feet.

He looked down at her face. “In that case, may I be the first to welcome you aboard, Savannah. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other. I’ve had to temporarily move back into my father’s house while my roof damage is being repaired.”

The room began to spin just a little, and she held onto his arm as much for support as for form. “I’m sorry about your house, though it will be nice to spend some time with you. But don’t I have to get approved by your father, first before the bookkeeping job is officially mine?”

Dallas shook his head. “Just technically. Nothing more than rubber-stamping at this stage,” he assured her. “He trusts Vanessa’s judgment. We all do.”

“Then I guess I’m hired.” One huge weight off her shoulders, she thought. At least for the time being. The rest of the future was just going to have to take care of itself.

As the pace picked up again, Dallas glided her around another couple. “I guess you are.”

Savannah was smiling at Dallas. Now she was laughing at something he’d just said. Cruz found himself taking in every movement. The woman in his arms was vivacious and had eyes only for him, but he was oblivious to her and her blatant attempts to snare his interest.

His attention was on the couple across the floor. His grip on the woman’s hand tightened slightly as he watched Dallas bend his head and whisper something into Savannah’s ear. She laughed in response, the sound muted by the music. Cruz heard it in his head, anyway.

What the hell were they talking about?

Again he found that he had to bank down the strange, hot feelings that threatened to take control of him. He muttered an oath under his breath, turning his partner so that he could get a better view of Savannah and her companion.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” the woman purred. “You look like your mind’s a million miles away.”

Cruz looked at his partner. The lopsided grin that followed covered a thousand transgressions. “Just thinking of you and the night ahead, Gia.”

The blonde snuggled against him, her sigh warm on his chest. “Tell me more.”

Watching Cruz and the blonde who hermetically adhered herself to his body, Savannah struggled not to let a new wave of sadness engulf her. For now, things were as good as they could get. Better than she’d hoped.

She was just going to have to content herself with that.

Savannah had no idea why she couldn’t.

Pride filled Rosita Perez’s ample bosom as she watched Vanessa dance on the arm of her new husband. It was the kind of pride a mother might feel on the day of her daughter’s wedding. The kind of pride Rosita had felt watching her own daughters when they were married.

Her body swaying ever so slightly in time with the music, Rosita continued watching from the sidelines. Vanessa Fortune might as well have been her daughter. She had helped raise the girl and her twin sister, Victoria, from the time both were babies. She’d stepped in on a full-time basis when the twins’ mother, Janine, had died, filling the huge gap as best she could so that the Fortune children would always know that there was someone around who cared for them.

Ryan Fortune did care, of course, she thought as she helped herself to a small canapé, but he was only a man, and men were inept when it came to showing their feelings for their children. And then, of course, he’d made the mistake of marrying that woman, Sophia. His second wife had gotten her hooks into him, and the children had become more Rosita’s than ever.

Rosita delicately wiped her mouth with a napkin. Even her husband Ruben could have shown his feelings more, although he was better than most. No, in her generation it was the women who felt, the women who cried and encouraged and guided. It had always been second nature to her.

Rosita only hoped that she’d infused some of her values into the current generation of Fortunes, so they would be freer to show their feelings, freer to love those who deserved loving…. Like this small baby whom God had directed into their home, Rosita mused as she looked toward the ornate bassinet that was butted up against the side of one of the banquet tables.

When Claudia and Matthew had discovered that the baby whom Devin and Vanessa had rescued wasn’t their own precious kidnapped Bryan, they had taken it upon themselves to care for the little mystery baby. Taylor, as they were calling him, had the hereditary crown-shaped birthmark, thus proving he was indeed a Fortune. The only trouble was that none of the Fortune men had claimed responsibility for fathering the little angel. Regardless, the family had come to love the boy in the short time he’d been with them.

The bassinet could be seen from anywhere in the room. Afraid of a repetition of the awful kidnapping at the christening, Matthew and Claudia had made certain that the baby remained well in sight during the whole reception. They didn’t want to lose him, and perhaps lose the only real connection they still had to their own lost son. Though the FBI and Sheriff Grayhawk were still working on finding the kidnappers and baby Bryan, all leads were cold. At least the media weren’t hounding the Fortunes; the story was being kept quiet out of fear of tabloid exploitation.

Still, Rosita knew the kidnapping was placing a serious strain on Matthew and Claudia’s marriage. They’d moved back into Ryan’s home, and Rosita saw them daily. She could cut the tension between them with a knife.

Poor lamb, Rosita thought looking down at the baby. Who is it you really belong to?

Filled with sympathy for the child, for his real mother, who could be desperately searching for him even now, and for Matthew and Claudia and their continuous anguish, Rosita made her way over to the bassinet.

She noted that Lily Cassidy, Ryan Fortune’s long-lost love, and Lily’s daughter, Maria, were already there. Lily and Ryan had been lovers once. Lily had recently reentered Ryan’s life and the difference in the man could be seen instantly. About time the man was happy again, Rosita thought. She noticed that the baby began to fret as she approached. Rosita saw Maria lift the baby and take him into her arms with a practiced ease. Usually rebellious and embittered, Maria seemed oddly self-confident as she held the child. The baby quieted instantly.

Rosita paused, studying the younger woman.

Seeing her, Lily smiled a greeting to Rosita. “You must be very proud.” Her eyes indicated Vanessa.

Rosita nodded. Lily was a fine lady, and genteel in the traditional sense of the word. Lily understood that Vanessa was like a daughter to her. Ryan would do well to make her his wife, Rosita mused. Lily would undoubtedly bring honor and style to the family.

Not like Sophia. She’d never been a Fortune—not truly.

“She does make a beautiful bride,” Rosita agreed with genuine pride. “And more than that, she is a beautiful person.” She looked at Maria and the baby. “Would you like me to take him for a little while? That way you and Ms. Lily can feel free to have a good time.”

Maria merely scowled in response.

“That’s very sweet of you, Rosita,” Lily responded, covering for her daughter’s rudeness. Lily rose from her chair. “I guess it doesn’t take all of us to guard one small baby.” She passed her hand lightly over the infant’s downy head. There was affection in her eyes when she looked at Taylor.

Rosita saw a strange expression pass over Maria’s face as Lily spoke. It looked suspiciously like fear. Was she worried about the baby, too? Everyone at the ranch had fallen in love with this little waif, who laughed and already seemed to have a zest for life. But it was out of character for Maria to care about anyone, even a small baby.

“Perhaps a little of both.” Rosita reached for the baby, but Maria stepped back, unwilling to relinquish her hold. Rosita looked at her quizzically.

“That’s all right, I don’t mind,” Maria said quickly. “I like holding him, and he seems to be happy right now. Why don’t you just go and enjoy yourselves?” It was more of a dismissal than a suggestion.

Lily pressed her lips together. “Maria, you really should get out and mingle a little. I was hoping that—”

Maria’s face clouded over. “Yes, Mother, I know exactly what you were hoping.” Her eyes strayed toward Matthew before she turned her back on her mother. Her attention became centered on the baby. “But I’m happy here, just holding the baby. Why can’t you just accept that?”

Rosita looked away, embarrassed for Lily and not wanting to cause her any further discomfort. Her own daughters would never speak to her this way, especially not in front of someone else. It seemed a shame that such a fine lady like Lily had to put up with such rude behavior.

“I had better see if they have enough wine.” Rosita nodded toward some of the trays scattered about on the surrounding tables. “It looks as if we are gathering too many empty glasses.”

“Oh, there you are.” Coming up behind Lily, Ryan slipped his arms around her, hugging her to him. “I haven’t had a chance to claim a dance with you in the last hour. Baxter Cordell is talking my ear off about some infernal idea. Something about a dude ranch, of all things. Come save me,” he urged the woman who shared his heart and his bed, and would someday soon, God willing, share his name as well.

Turning around in his arms so that she faced him, Lily pretended to sigh. “All right, if I must.” Some of the tension began to leave her brow as she let Ryan lead her away.

“I saw you hovering by Taylor.” Ryan curled her hand in his.

“Just being wistful,” Lily admitted. She looked back toward her daughter holding the baby. It made for a pretty picture. “I can’t wait until one of the children makes me a grandmother.”

Ryan laughed and shook his head. “You’re far too young looking, Lily, for anyone to think of you as a grandmother.”

Her laughter, light and airy, mingled with his. “That’s part of the joy of it.”

Rosita looked thoughtfully over at Maria. Perhaps you already are one.

It was 3:30 a.m. All the guests had gone. Darkness and quiet enveloped the Fortune family home. Bolting upright, Rosita cried out in surprised anguish before her eyes opened to admit the darkness within her bedroom.

Lying beside her, Ruben roused himself. Though he was not a stranger to these kinds of outbursts from his wife in the middle of the night, it took him a moment to orient himself and pull himself together.

Half asleep, still lying in bed, he managed to thread his arms around her waist. “Shh, Rosita, it was just a bad dream.”

“Yes,” she agreed breathlessly, her pulse still beating erratically. “No,” she declared suddenly, as things began to focus in her brain. “Not a bad dream, an omen. A sign.” Excited, breathless, she shifted, looking at her husband. His eyes were half closed. Rosita shook him by the shoulder. “It was a sign.”

Ruben opened his eyes reluctantly. “What are you talking about?”

It was all still jumbled in her head, but bits and pieces were becoming clearer. A feeling of urgency filled her, although she didn’t know why. “I dreamed that Lily was nursing a baby.”

“What baby?”

“I’m not sure.”

Ruben turned on his side. His arm under his pillow, he snuggled against it. He was anxious to get a little more sleep before dawn and hard work met him. “That’s nice.”

Upset by his reaction, Rosita leaned over her husband, talking directly into his ear. “Don’t you want to hear the rest of the dream?”

Ruben struggled against irritation and tried to maintain his hold on sleep. “Why would I want to hear what indigestion has made you dream of?”

He was always blaming her visions on indigestion. But he was a man and knew little about things like visions. “Not indigestion.” She shook his shoulder again. “Listen to me, old man.”

He sighed, knowing that he was waging a losing battle. But he was bound to try anyway.

“The middle of the night is the time for sleeping, not listening.” His eyes shut, he willed her into silence—as if that ever worked. “I will listen in the morning.” When he fervently hoped all this nonsense of hers would be forgotten. He supposed that made him a bit of a dreamer, too.

But Rosita was determined to talk about her dream now, while the pieces were all still fresh in her mind. “I was watching Maria with the baby at the wedding today.”

More awake than asleep now, Ruben sighed again. “You had nothing better to occupy yourself with?” he mumbled into his pillow.

She ignored the question. “The baby seemed to recognize Maria.”

Ruben turned toward her. This had to stop. He couldn’t sleep if she insisted on talking. “How could he recognize anyone? He is only, what? Three months old perhaps? And besides, he has been here for only a few weeks.”

Vindicated, Rosita held up a finger for emphasis. “That is my point.”

She had lost him. It was nothing new. Ruben had learned a long time ago not to try to keep up with the way his wife’s mind worked. It only led to frustration in the end.

“Your point is dull, my love. Now, please, for the love of our children, let me get some sleep before I fall off my horse tomorrow.”

He was turning away from her. In a moment, she knew he would be asleep. The man was infuriating. “But you haven’t heard my dream yet.”

Ruben sighed again, louder this time. It was a sigh of resignation, if not surrender. There was no talking her out of it.

“All right.” Turning, he faced her squarely, his eyes wide open—the way they probably would remain for the rest of what was left of the night, he thought mournfully. “Tell me your dream and then maybe we’ll both get some sleep.” Although he sincerely doubted it.

Victorious, Rosita proceeded slowly now, for effect and drama. “I dreamed that Lily was nursing a baby.” She paused significantly. “Suddenly, the baby transformed into a scorpion and stung her!”

“Definitely indigestion,” Ruben pronounced. Having done his duty, he turned away from her again. “All right, you have told me. Now let’s get some sleep.”

Disappointed, Rosita glared at him. What did she expect? He was a man and didn’t understand these things. “You are impossible.”

“No, only tired.”

The sentence came out in a soft sigh. Ruben was asleep before the last word was out of his mouth, leaving Rosita to lie beside him, upset and fuming.

And convinced that her vision contained more than an ounce of truth….

“Are you sure?” Cruz looked at his sister, surprised and maybe just a little more pleased than he wanted to let on, even to himself. Maggie had come knocking on his door this morning with the news just as he was about to head toward the stable.

It had stopped him in his tracks.

Maggie grinned at her older brother. So, she’d been right. There was something going on between Cruz and Vanessa’s friend. Watching him last night, she’d sensed that something was up, but she hadn’t been sure until just this moment.

“Of course I’m sure.” She fell into step with him as he went to get his horse.

“Do you know how long she’ll be staying?”

Cruz’s curiosity tickled her. He’d always been so very fickle before, going through women like a man leafing slowly through the pages of a magazine. This time, it looked as if he’d stopped to read the story that went along with the pictures.

About time, Maggie thought.

Cruz had spent the better part of the reception in Savannah Clark’s company. That had to mean something since he normally divided his time with no less than five women during the course of one of these parties.

But to say so, Maggie knew, would be to annoy him. She decided to save that little observation as ammunition for some future time. She never knew when she might need it.

“Indefinitely.” Maggie watched Cruz saddle his horse, his face impassive. She knew him better than that. He wouldn’t be asking questions if he wasn’t interested. He wasn’t one for idle gossip. “It seems the school where she was teaching had to let some of their staff go. She needed a job and Vanessa offered her one. She’d going to be the ranch’s new bookkeeper.”

So, she’d be working for the Fortunes. That put her on the same level as he was. Cruz wondered if Savannah thought of that as a step down. He knew from experience that the Fortune family and their hired help did not readily mix, no matter what magnanimous words might be said to the contrary or what invitations were extended. The bottom line was that the Fortunes were above them and would always continue that way.

Tightening the saddle cinch, he looked at his sister. “So she’ll be staying on.”

Maggie nodded. “Looks that way.” Maggie made no attempt to hide the fact that she was taken with his reaction. “Are you interested?”

Yes, he thought, he was interested. For all her shyness, Savannah had been a very satisfying lover and he wanted to lure her back to his bed. Just to assure himself that he’d over-glorified the night in his mind.

But he’d missed his chance to find out last night. After Dallas had cut in on them, other members of the Fortune family had followed and gone on to monopolize Savannah’s time. So he had distracted himself with the woman he’d been with.

Or tried to. But his heart hadn’t been in it and he’d gone back to his cabin alone, to fall into a restless sleep that had left him more tired than refreshed when he woke up this morning.

The tangle of dreams he’d had had faded the moment he’d woken up, but they had left him weary. And more restless.

“Are you interested?” Maggie repeated, peering at his face.

Cruz shrugged, absently looking over toward the house. “No more than usual,” he finally said.

But Maggie had her doubts about that.

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