Candy Halliday - [Cowboy Country] - A Ranch Called Home p.02

He left the truck, cursing himself for allowing Sara to invade his thoughts even
one second longer. He was losing his edge. Letting his mind wander where it
shouldn’t. Acting like some giddy teenager experiencing his first stupid crush.
He was smarter than that.
Stronger than that.
He had a ranch to run, dammit.
With that thought in mind Gabe headed for the back porch and entered through the
kitchen where the rear stairs would take him to the second floor and his own
bedroom. To his relief, other than the ticking of his mother’s old grandfather
clock, the house was quiet.
He reached his bedroom door without interruption. A sudden urge sent him down
the hallway to check on his nephew—the same way he’d always checked in on Billy
before he turned in himself.
The bedroom door next to his was slightly ajar. Gabe paused.
The room was dark, leading him to believe Sara was already asleep. But when he
reached out to gently pull the door shut, moonlight streaming through the
bedroom window allowed Gabe a quick glimpse inside the room.
The second he saw her, time jerked to a stop.
She was standing in the middle of the room with her back to the door, silently
going through one of her yoga routines he’d overheard her tell Smitty helped her
relax after a long, tiring day. Moonlight captured her poised silhouette, giving
Gabe a mouthwatering view of her exquisite body through the thin material of the
nightgown she wore.
But it was her hair that affected Gabe most.
Finally, he had his answer.
Her hair tumbled down her back in a wave of silky sable, past her waist,
stopping just below her hips. He watched for almost a full minute, unable to
tear his eyes away from her graceful movements until visions of her naked body
hovering over his, that long hair brushing across his face, stirred more than
Gabe’s interest.
Ashamed for spying, Gabe stepped back from the door.
Anger quickly replaced his guilt.
How Sara had the ability to turn him completely inside out was something he
couldn’t explain. He’d expected to have more self-control. But all reason went
right out the window every time he looked at her. Especially when she sent him
one of those damn wide-eyed looks.
Hell, maybe that’s it!
Gabe frowned as he walked down the hallway.
It’s her wide-eyed innocence that makes me so crazy.
And Sara had been completely innocent.
Not once in the three weeks since she’d been under his roof had she treated him
with anything but the same respect he’d tried to show her. And never once had
she given him the slightest indication that she could be even remotely attracted
to a man like him.
Forget her! Gabe told himself and opened Ben’s door. The tiny form snuggled
beneath the covers caused old memories to surface. He’d only been seven years
older than his brother, but he’d always felt this same protective feeling toward
Billy.
Gabe listened long enough to hear the sound of Ben’s even breathing before he
eased the door shut. He had just started down the hallway when Sara appeared.
“Gabe?” she whispered.
Gabe’s mouth went dry.
Again, moonlight from her open bedroom door played havoc with his emotions.
Bathed in the silvery light, her creamy shoulders were bare except for the thin
straps of her nightgown. And though she crossed her arms in an attempt to cover
herself, her actions only made Gabe more aware of the tantalizing cleavage she
couldn’t quite hide.
“I was just checking on Ben,” Gabe whispered.
“Thanks for doing that,” she said as he approached. “I left my door open so I
could hear Ben if he needed me.”
She didn’t move until he was almost close enough to touch her. And he might have
done just that had she not stepped inside the safety of her bedroom at the
precise second he reached her bedroom door.
“Sleep well,” she said as she shut her door.
Yeah, right! There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d sleep at all now.
And that’s why he had to stop running from the situation and face it head-on. No
more late-night drives. No more doubting his ability to handle the situation.
He could do this.
It was time to cowboy up and deal.
Just like he’d always done.
CHAPTER TEN
SARA PUT AWAY the last of Ben’s toys in the den, turned out the light and headed
toward the front staircase. She paused when she saw the light coming from Gabe’s
office. He’d surprised her all week by staying home every night, making Sara
suspect a lover’s spat.
Pressure from Ronnie, no doubt. Insisting Gabe put an end to his phony marriage.
And after her first full month on the ranch, even Sara was beginning to think
putting an end to their marriage might be the wise thing to do. At least where
she and Gabe were concerned.
Oh, they’d managed to tiptoe around each other. They’d been overly polite.
They’d even managed to pretend they weren’t two healthy adults in a most
uncomfortable situation.
But they were two healthy adults.
And Sara hadn’t missed the desire she’d seen in his eyes the night they’d run
into each other in the hallway when Gabe was checking on Ben.
Run while you still can, her gut instinct told her.
Sara would have done that, if, like always, Ben wasn’t her main concern. But in
one short month, she’d watched her five-year-old transform into a little-boy
version of the other men on the ranch, complete with a closet full of western
clothing Smitty had brought home shortly after their arrival.
“Now don’t throw a fit,” Smitty had told her rather condescendingly when he
handed Ben the packages. “The boy needs proper clothing if he’s gonna tag around
the ranch after me. Them shorty pants you put on him ain’t gonna protect his
legs while he’s learning to ride. And them tennis shoes sure won’t protect Ben’s
feet if he gets too close to a horse’s hoof.”
Ben had been so delighted with his new clothes—his cowboy hat and his boots—Sara
hadn’t seen the point in arguing. Especially when Smitty educated her further by
pointing out that tailored western-style shirts wouldn’t hang up on fence posts
like Ben’s assortment of loose-fitting T-shirts, and that the string on Ben’s
new cowboy hat was there for a reason.
“Ain’t got time to chase that baseball cap of Ben’s all over the corral,” Smitty
had said with a snort. “The boy needs a good hat that’ll stay on his head and
keep the sun out of his eyes.”
Of course, the clothing had been one of the many concessions Sara found herself
making where Ben was concerned. Although Gabe had asked her permission first,
Ben now had his very own pony. Ben had promptly named the pony Lightning to go
along with his toy horse Thunder.
And since last week, Sara had pretended she wasn’t aware that Smitty was helping
Ben sneak one of Bess’s pups up to Ben’s room every night after she delivered
her final good-night kiss. Even Bandit seemed to be in on the conspiracy. Not
once had Sara heard the slightest whimper out of the small fur ball. Even when
she went into Ben’s bedroom during the night to adjust his covers, the only
telltale sign that the pup was in the room was a tiny black nose that sometimes
poked out from beneath Ben’s bed.
So no, running like hell wasn’t an option.
At least not yet.
Sara took a deep breath and turned toward the stairs. She was already rehearsing
the casual good-night she planned to offer when she passed Gabe’s office
doorway. She had the word on the tip of her tongue when Gabe called out her
name.
“Got a minute?”
Forcing a smile, Sara entered his office. She took a seat when Gabe motioned to
the chair in front of his desk.
He slid an envelope across his desk in her direction and smiled. “I only do
payroll once a month,” he said. “The check inside belongs to you. The ten-dollar
bill is Ben’s allowance. I made the mistake of telling Ben I got a monthly
allowance when I was a kid. He hasn’t let me forget that.”
Sara stared at the envelope, but she made no attempt to pick it up.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Sara told him. “About the check, I mean. Not about
Ben’s allowance.”
“Family tradition,” Gabe told her. “My mother was of the opinion that she worked
as hard as any man on the ranch and she expected a paycheck once a month like
everyone else. You’ve done a remarkable job making this place livable again,
Sara. If anyone deserves a paycheck for what they do around here, it’s you.”
“Thank you.”
She picked up the envelope, but she didn’t open it. She stuffed it into the
front pocket of her dress, amazed once again over Gabe’s generosity. The week
after they arrived, he’d purchased a new Jeep Cherokee and had given her the
keys as her own means of transportation. She’d only driven it once into town—the
result of another generous offer from Gabe. He’d called ahead and arranged for
his personal banker to assist her in setting up her own bank account so she
could deposit the money she’d been able to save in Conrad into an
interest-bearing account. He’d also handed her a credit card when she’d pointed
out that many of the draperies and most of the towels and the bedding in the
house needed to he replaced. She’d made those purchases online on Gabe’s
computer, since the nearest shopping mall was over one hundred miles away in
Grand Junction.
Offering her access to his computer had also allowed her to e-mail Annie and
Dessie at least once a week to keep in touch. She was always careful to keep
that correspondence focused strictly on Ben and how well he was doing on the
ranch. Not that she thought Gabe would stoop so low as to read her e-mail. But
as life had often taught her, it never hurt to stay on the safe side.
At every turn, Gabe had gone out of his way to provide her with everything she
and Ben needed to transition smoothly into their new lives on the ranch. So why
did she still feel so uncomfortable in this man’s presence?
Sara glanced in his direction again.
He was settled comfortably back in his chair with a booted foot propped casually
on one knee. And that’s when Sara realized her heart knew the answer about why
she was always so nervous in Gabe’s presence whether she was willing to admit it
or not.
Gabe totally captivated her.
Just looking at him now made Sara’s pulse quicken and her heart pound. And when
his blue eyes suddenly met hers, the intense look he gave her affected Sara as
deeply as a sensuous caress against her bare flesh.
“How do you think Ben’s doing?” he asked, snapping Sara’s thoughts back to the
conversation. “Do you think he’s adjusting to the ranch okay?”
Sara laughed. “The way you and Smitty spoil the child? How could Ben not like it
here?”
He laughed along with her. “Ben’s quite a kid,” he said, his expression
displaying the obvious affection he felt for her son. “And what about you? How
are you adjusting to life here?”
Sara blinked at his question.
She and Gabe had daily discussions about everything from Ben’s activities to
household purchases and problems, but he always caught her off guard when he
pointedly asked about her. She started to tell him she’d never been happier.
Until the thought crossed her mind that might not be the answer Gabe wanted.
That, instead, maybe he was hoping she would say ranch life didn’t suit her at
all—that she was even considering leaving Ben at the ranch and starting a new
life on her own.
After all, wasn’t that what Gabe said he wanted that day at the jail? For her to
take Billy’s insurance money and start a new life, but to leave Ben with him?
“Is there a problem?” Sara asked, automatically taking the defensive.
He looked at her funny. “No,” he said, “there isn’t a problem at all. As far as
I’m concerned, things couldn’t be working out any better. I was just worried you
might be bored stuck out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“I have an active five-year-old, and more than enough to keep me busy around
here, Gabe. I don’t have time to be bored.”
He nodded, absently tapping his pencil against his desk blotter. “I realize
that, Sara, but you aren’t a slave to this ranch seven days a week. Feel free to
take time off for yourself whenever you want.”
“Thanks, I will,” Sara said.
He kept impaling her with long, searching looks.
Sara stood, eager to end their meeting. Being in the room alone with him already
had her mind wandering into dangerous territory. But he seemed to have something
else on his mind. And as those blue eyes covered her face again, Sara wondered
if her growing feelings for him were so transparent Gabe might be picking up on
the fact that it was all she could do to keep from taking him by the hand and
leading him upstairs to her bedroom to fulfill the fantasies she had about him
when she was alone.
She needed to get out of there. Now.
“Well, if there isn’t anything else, I think I’ll go to bed,” Sara said,
practically sprinting for the door.
“There is one more thing.”
Bracing herself, Sara turned.
“Saturday is the Fourth of July,” he said, “and Smitty and the boys and I are
always invited over to celebrate with our nearest neighbors Joe and Betsy
Graham.”
“And you want Ben to go with you?” Sara asked, assuming that was the next
question.
“Actually,” he said, “I was thinking about giving Betsy a break from being
hostess this year and inviting the Grahams over here.”
“Here?” Sara echoed.
“I wanted to ask you first, of course,” he added quickly. “I realize there will
be extra cooking involved on your part if we celebrate here. But you can count
on Betsy to bring over enough food to feed an army.”
Sara chewed nervously at her bottom lip. Could she handle this? Taking care of
the ranch hands was one thing, but neighbors? That was something very different.
She finally said, “The Grahams are your friends and this is your house, Gabe.
You don’t need my permission to invite them over whenever you want.”
His expression turned serious. “I realize that, Sara. But I was hoping this was
beginning to feel like your home, too, not someplace you’re just passing
through.”
Sara flinched at his comment.
She’d spent a lifetime just passing through. She wanted to believe things were
going to be different in Redstone. That she and Ben could put down roots. And
that Gabe’s friends would accept them, as he claimed.
But what she didn’t want was to explain any of that to Gabe. At least, not yet.
They’d only survived one month living together as a family. It was much too soon
to let down her guard.
He could still change his mind and ask them to leave.
And so, Sara said, “I’ll start making arrangements tomorrow and put together a
menu for Saturday.”
She was trying not to sound as nervous as she felt about meeting Gabe’s friends.
But a dozen questions were already running through Sara’s mind. How much did the
Grahams know? Did they realize the marriage was in name only? Or were they
expecting to find happy newlyweds waiting to greet them?
It was on the tip of Sara’s tongue to ask.
But Gabe saved her the trouble when he said, “You don’t have to worry about
meeting Joe and Betsy, Sara. They’re good people and they have a son Ben’s age.
Junior will be in Ben’s kindergarten class. I think it will be good for Ben if
he meets a friend before school starts.”
Good for Ben.
Three little words.
But those three words put Sara firmly in her place.
Of course, the Grahams knew why he’d married her. The whole town of Redstone
knew why he’d married her. Ben was Gabe’s only concern—and always would be. The
sooner she accepted that fact, the better off she’d be.
Sara wasted no time saying good-night. But she did wait until she’d closed her
bedroom door before she took the envelope out of her pocket. When she saw the
amount written on the check, her usual self-doubts surfaced to worry her.
Was Gabe paying her five hundred dollars a week because she earned it? Or was he
making sure she had enough money that she wouldn’t have any excuse not to leave
when her six months at the Crested-C Ranch were over?
If her past had any bearing on her future, Sara feared she already knew the
answer to that question.

AFTER SARA LEFT, Gabe let out a worried sigh. He’d tried his best to make Sara
feel welcome. He’d even thought he was making some progress. But their
conversation proved he had a long way to go before he convinced Sara that she
and Ben belonged in Redstone.
Not that he could really blame her.
She’d been betrayed her entire life.
And in a way, Gabe knew he was betraying her, too.
He was urging her to meet friends and start feeling like she belonged. Yet, at
the same time he was still allowing Sara to think whatever she wanted about his
relationship with Ronnie Kincaid.
He wasn’t proud of it.
He knew he should have explained about Ronnie when Sara arrived at the ranch.
But one thing held him back. Ronnie was an obstacle that kept the distance
between him and Sara.
As long as Sara believed he was involved with Ronnie, Gabe knew he was safe. And
as long as Sara kept her distance, Gabe knew there would be no opportunity to
slip up and act on the physical attraction he felt for her.
Physical attraction was one thing.
But being a real husband to Sara was another.
His parents had been a shining example of what a marriage should be. They’d
loved each other completely, body and soul. He simply didn’t have it in him to
offer that kind of love to any woman.
He’d offered Sara a home and security. He’d be her friend. He’d be her
protector. And he’d provide for her and Ben for as long as she would let him.
Responsibility, he could handle.
But that’s where he had to draw the line.
Still, it couldn’t hurt to have the Grahams come over to meet Sara and Ben, even
though the idea had been Smitty’s, not his. And thinking about Smitty took
Gabe’s thoughts back to the slight argument they’d had when Smitty first
mentioned celebrating the Fourth of July at the Crested-C.
They’d been watching Ben ride his pony around the corral, Ben learning to handle
the reins while one of the ranch hands named Slim held on to a tether to keep
the pony under control. Gabe had made an innocent comment about how much Ben had
learned in one short month. And Smitty had taken the opportunity to blindside
Gabe.
“Yeah, Ben’s learned a lot,” Smitty had said. “Too bad he’ll be leaving in five
short months.”
Gabe had known Smitty was baiting him.
But he’d been too afraid Sara had said something not to ask, “Has Sara said
something to you about leaving?”
“Nope. But if you keep ignoring that little gal you married, I guarantee you
she’ll leave.”
“I haven’t been ignoring her,” Gabe had argued. “Sara and I have a business
deal, not a real marriage. And we both agreed that’s all we’ll ever have.”
Smitty snorted. “And that’s what you think it takes to keep a woman happy? A
business deal?”
“Keeping Sara happy wasn’t part of the deal,” Gabe had been quick to remind him.
“You’re wrong. Keeping people happy is always part of any deal. Say you sell a
man a horse, for instance. But he calls you later and says he isn’t happy with
the horse you sold him. If you’re a good businessman you’ll do whatever it takes
to make him happy with the horse he has. Or you’ll offer him a new deal.”
“I’m happy with the deal we have,” Gabe had grumbled.
“But the key is keeping Sara happy with the deal you have. If you’re not willing
to be a real husband to her, then you’d better be sure she makes some friends so
she’ll have a good reason to stay.”
Gabe had been searching for a comeback when Smitty said, “I think we should
invite the Grahams over for the Fourth of July this year. It’s time Sara and Ben
met their neighbors.”
But as Gabe rose behind his desk and headed to bed, he couldn’t help but be a
little worried that forcing Sara to meet their neighbors was pushing her too
fast. He’d seen the panicked look in her eyes when he first mentioned inviting
the Grahams.
His only consolation was knowing he could count on Joe and Betsy to accept Ben
and Sara without question. Joe had been his best friend since they were kids.
Gabe had been Joe’s best man when he and Betsy got married right out of high
school.
Of course, they hadn’t spent much time together since high school, him being
single, them a married couple who later had a child. But now that Ben and Sara
were part of his life, Gabe was actually looking forward to merging the two
families.
Friends, Gabe thought, praying Smitty was right.
Maybe friends would give Sara a good reason to stay.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“THIS IS my new friend, Junior, Mom,” Ben said, and pushed a red-haired,
freckle-faced boy in Sara’s direction.
“And I’m five years old, too,” Junior announced with a wide-toothed grin.
Sara stepped out onto the front porch.
She’d walked to the door when she first heard the truck pull up. But she’d been
waiting while Ben bombarded their visitors with a dozen questions before they
could even get out of the truck.
“I’m glad to meet you, Junior,” Sara said, reaching down to shake the small hand
she was being offered.
When she looked up, a woman with the same striking red hair was hurrying in her
direction. She was tall, skinny as a rail, and her short hair framed her pretty
face in a halo of red curls befitting a cherub.
“And I’m Betsy Graham, Junior’s mother.”
Before Sara could say hello, Betsy grabbed her in a bear hug and gave Sara a
healthy squeeze. “I just can’t tell you how glad we are to have you and Ben in
Redstone, Sara,” she said. “Hardly a day goes by that Junior doesn’t complain
about not having a boy his own age to play with.”
“Well, thank you, Betsy,” Sara managed, completely overwhelmed by the woman’s
enthusiasm.
Betsy put her hands on her slim hips, looked over at Sara and rolled her eyes.
Then she called out to the man who was heading around the house to where the
picnic tables were set up, and where Gabe and the ranch hands were already busy
playing horseshoes.
“Joe!” she yelled. “Act like you have some manners and come say hello to Sara
before you head off with the boys.”
He stopped mid-stride, turned and started back toward the porch. His physique
was that of a football linebacker, but something about him told Sara his
attitude was all teddy bear. He removed his cowboy hat as he walked up the
steps, revealing sandy-blond hair beginning to thin on top. And the deep
crinkles around his eyes said he smiled much more often than he frowned.
Sara liked him immediately.
“Nice to meet you, Sara,” he said.
Sara briefly shook his hand.
“Don’t even think about picking up a horseshoe until you unload the truck and
take the cooler and the other stuff we brought out back,” Betsy said.
Joe put on his hat, looked at Sara and grinned. “You’ll have to excuse me, Sara.
As you can see, my bossy wife just gave me a direct order.”
“I think you mean your beautiful, sexy, intelligent, bossy wife,” Betsy teased.
“And don’t you forget it.”
He gave Betsy a quick kiss on the lips and headed off.
The love between them was obvious. In spite of herself, Sara felt envious.
She quickly turned her attention to the boys. “I made some cookies this
morning,” Sara announced. “Do you boys know anyone who wants to sample them for
me?”
“We do!” Ben and Junior yelled in unison.
The boys bolted through the front door, and Sara ushered her first official
guest into the large Coulter kitchen—a comfortable get-to-know-you-better place.
As she followed Betsy, Sara couldn’t keep from thinking that just a little over
a month ago her playing hostess to a Fourth of July picnic would have been as
unbelievable as being called to the White House as an advisor for a world peace
conference.
Yet, here she was.
And, surprisingly, not as nervous as she imagined.
“Smitty said you’d scrubbed everything around here from top to bottom, Sara,”
Betsy said over her shoulder. “But girl, what you’ve done with this place is
nothing short of a miracle.”
Sara smiled, as Betsy made herself at home and flopped down at the kitchen table
with the boys. She licked her finger and wiped a smidge of dirt from the tip of
Junior’s nose before she said, “You’ve got this place looking like it did back
when Gabe’s mother was alive. I bet Mary is shouting your praises from heaven at
this very moment.”
Sara’s smile instantly faded.
A lifetime of always being on the outside looking in caused Sara to say, “I
think we both know it isn’t likely Mary Coulter would ever sing my praises in
heaven, Betsy.”
A splash of pink instantly dotted Betsy’s cheeks.
She reached out without asking and took two of Sara’s cookies from the plate on
the table. “Why don’t you boys take your cookies outside,” Betsy suggested, “and
go see those new puppies Ben was telling us about.”
When the boys dashed out, Betsy wasted no time saying, “Look, Sara, you
obviously took that remark wrong, and—”
“Surely you realize why I’m on the defensive here. I’m not stupid, Betsy. I know
the whole town is talking about Gabe only marrying me so he could bring his
nephew home.”
Betsy’s face turned solemn. “Maybe I’m the one who should be on the defensive,
Sara. You’ve obviously already made up your mind about me. But if you think I’ve
shown up to get a good look at the woman who had Billy Coulter’s illegitimate
son, I hate to disappoint you. The only reason I’m here is because we both have
boys the same age and I hoped we might become good friends.”
Sara opened her mouth to apologize.
But she burst into tears instead.
In a flash, Betsy was by her side with her arm around Sara’s shoulder. “You go
ahead and cry,” Betsy said, giving Sara’s back a supportive pat. “I’m sure it’s
a luxury you haven’t allowed yourself stuck out here with a bunch of men.”
Betsy ushered Sara to a chair, then took a seat beside her.
“I’m so embarrassed,” Sara said, using the hem of her apron to wipe her eyes.
“And I’m so sorry for doubting why you came.”
“Oh, pooh,” Betsy said. “No reason to be embarrassed or sorry. Who wouldn’t feel
like crying in your situation? You’re in a strange house. In a strange town—”
“Married to a strange man,” Sara said absently.
Betsy laughed. “Well, strange is an appropriate word to describe Gabe, I guess,
but he’s a good man. And I think you already know that or you and Ben wouldn’t
be here.”
“I didn’t mean Gabe was strange,” Sara said, dabbing at her eyes again. “I meant
we’re basically strangers. But you’re right, Betsy. Gabe is a good man. And he’s
totally committed to Ben.”
Betsy looked at her knowingly for a moment. “You just always pictured the man
you married being totally committed to you. Right?”
“Something like that.”
Betsy patted Sara’s hand. “Well, if it’s any consolation, no one around here
gives a hoot how you and Gabe ended up together. You and Ben are Gabe’s family
now. And everyone in town is dying to meet you.”
When Sara sent Betsy a doubtful look, Betsy said, “And if that look has anything
to do with Ronnie Kincaid, then I wouldn’t waste my time worrying about her if I
were you.”
Sara opened her mouth to deny it.
“There aren’t any secrets in a small town, Sara. Everyone in Redstone knows
everyone else’s business. Ronnie’s been chasing Gabe since she got her first
training bra. If Gabe had wanted to marry her, he would have done so a long time
ago. Ronnie knows it. And so does everyone else.”
Sara felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders.
“Thanks for telling me that, Betsy. I’ve felt so guilty worrying that Gabe
sacrificed his own plans for Ben.”
Betsy patted her hand again. “I’ve known Gabe all my life. Gabe Coulter never
does anything he doesn’t want to do. You’re here because he wants you and Ben
here.”
Sara didn’t know what to say.
But she was saved from saying anything when Junior suddenly burst through the
kitchen door with a wiggling black puppy clasped firmly in both hands. Right
behind him was Ben. And right behind Ben was a nervous-looking Bess, unsure of
the little stranger who was holding her pup.
“Look what Ben gave me, Mama.” Junior beamed. “I’m gonna name him Charcoal.”
Sara and Betsy both laughed.
And Sara realized she and Ben had just made their first new friends in Redstone.

GABE STOOD ALONE later that night, sipping a beer and watching the small group
sitting around the campfire on the benches they’d dragged over from the picnic
tables. Smitty was busy helping Ben and Junior load up their roasting sticks
with more marshmallows. Joe and Betsy were sitting together, Joe’s arm around
Betsy’s shoulder. Then there was Sara, sitting on a bench by herself, her own
roasting stick and marshmallow held over the fire.
Sara laughed at something Betsy said, and it made Gabe realize how long it had
been since laughter or having friends over had been a part of his daily life on
the Crested-C. Fifteen years to be exact—too long.
Of course, that hadn’t been the case when his parents were alive. His mother
hadn’t been in her element unless she was surrounded with friends and busy
putting out food for those friends to enjoy.
His gaze returned to Sara.
She was a lot like his mother in many ways.
Sara was easy to be around, always making sure everyone else was taken care of.
She’d been nothing but gracious to the Grahams. Just as she’d made all of the
preparations for the day seem effortless.
But he shouldn’t have been staring at her. Sara sensed it and looked up.
And though Gabe told himself to head for the card game going on in the
bunkhouse, he found himself walking in her direction. He shocked both of them
when he sat down on the bench right beside her.
She moved over slightly.
And Gabe sat up a little straighter.
“Get Gabe a stick and a marshmallow,” Betsy said to Joe, somewhat defusing the
awkward moment.
“No, thanks,” Gabe said, holding up his bottle. “Beer and marshmallows don’t mix
very well.”
“You big wimp,” Betsy scoffed. But she looked directly at Sara and said, “In
case you haven’t figured it out, Sara, Gabe isn’t a risk taker. He never does
anything even remotely risky.”
“That isn’t true,” Gabe said, slightly embarrassed.
“Oh, pooh,” Betsy said. “Of course, it’s true. Name one thing you’ve ever done
in your entire life that was risky.”
Marrying Sara and keeping my hands off her?
Out loud Gabe said, “Our senior year. You and Joe dared me to jump Clayton’s
Gulch with Ricky Smith’s motorcycle and I did it.”
Betsy rolled her eyes and looked at Sara again. “Clayton’s Gulch is a ten-foot
ravine just outside of town where the teenagers still hang out and party. And
yes, Gabe did jump the gulch on Ricky Smith’s motorcycle when Joe and I dared
him. But he’d seen Ricky jump that gulch a million times and he already knew it
was possible. So I don’t call that taking a risk.”
“Gabe still had the balls to do it,” Joe said.
“Joe!” Betsy scolded, elbowing Joe in the side as she nodded toward the other
side of the campfire. “Watch your language in front of the boys.”
“Dammit, that hurt,” Joe grumbled.
Gabe and Sara both laughed.
“Okay, Betsy. You’ve tried to shame me. So tell us something risky you’ve done
that can top jumping Clayton’s Gulch,” Gabe taunted.
Betsy grinned. “I can top jumping Clayton’s Gulch hands down. Joe and I had
steamy sex once on the sofa in the living room while my parents were home
upstairs.”
Joe frowned. “Hey! What happened to watching our language around the boys?”
Sara laughed.
But Gabe didn’t.
Not with Sara sitting so close.
And not with steamy sex floating through his mind.
He stood, looked at Joe and quickly changed the subject. “I came over to tell
you the boys are playing poker for money tonight. Want to help me take some of
that money?”
Joe automatically looked over at Betsy for an answer.
“Oh, go on,” Betsy said, and pushed Joe toward Gabe.
Thanks. I needed that reality check, Gabe thought.
He’d been in a strange mood all day. One minute, wondering what it would be like
if he and Sara did have a real marriage. The next minute, worried that he’d even
had such a troubling thought. But seeing Joe just now, waiting for permission
from his wife to walk twenty yards to play cards, made Gabe realize he would
never be husband material.
No way.
No how.
Not in this lifetime.

WHEN GABE AND JOE walked off, Betsy smiled at Sara. “I think your husband has a
big crush on you.”
“Betsy!” Sara protested. It was her turn to nod toward Smitty and the boys, who
were now totally entranced by the sparklers Smitty had bought for them.
“What?” Betsy demanded. “You and Gabe are married, you know.”
“Only on paper,” Sara said.
“Oh, pooh.” Betsy snorted. “The sexual tension between you two is so thick you
couldn’t chop through it with a wood ax.”
“You keep forgetting Gabe has a girlfriend to take care of his sexual tensions.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Betsy said. “I hear Ronnie’s foreman is sharing
her bed at the moment.”
“I couldn’t care less,” Sara lied. “About Gabe or Ronnie. And especially what
bed they’re sharing.”
“That is such a lie, Sara. And I don’t care what you say, Gabe does have a crush
on you. I’ve watched him all day. His eyes get all dreamy every time he looks at
you.
Sara laughed. “Now that is such a lie!”
But she couldn’t keep from wishing it were true.
She’d thoroughly enjoyed having the Grahams over. She liked playing hostess.
She’d even enjoyed the fantasy that they were a real couple even though she’d
promised herself she’d never fantasize about Gabe Coulter again.
But she just couldn’t help it. Gabe really was her cowboy dream come true.
Reality, after all, could always wait until tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SINCE THE FOURTH of July party, mealtime had become the only time Sara saw Gabe.
According to Smitty, July was one of the busiest months on the ranch, but
something told her Gabe had been avoiding her the past three weeks on purpose.
And that reminded Sara of what Betsy had told her about there being no secrets
in a small town.
Was Gabe upset over Ronnie’s alleged affair?
Or was Ronnie upset over Gabe’s party?
Whatever the reason, Sara suspected they were feuding. And that’s why she’d
asked Gabe if she could talk to him a few minutes after Ben was in bed. He’d
looked surprised at her request. But he’d agreed to wait for her in his office
after she got Ben settled.
Now, Ben was settled.
And Sara was still standing at the top of the stairs, rehearsing what she
planned to say and dreading every minute of it. She finally took a deep breath
and descended before she lost her nerve. Gabe looked up from his computer the
minute she walked into his office.
Sara took a seat in front of his desk.
Gabe smiled slightly, but his expression was pensive.
Sara got right to the point. “Betsy wants me to help her with a fund-raising
booth at the Founder’s Day celebration in town next weekend.”
He let out a loud sigh of relief, and hit Sara with a wide grin. “Is that all
you wanted to talk to me about? Sorry, but you had me worried something was
seriously wrong.”
“That’s what I’m hoping to avoid,” Sara said.
He looked puzzled this time.
“I’m hoping to avoid something going wrong if I do decide to help Betsy at
Founder’s Day.”
He laughed, still not getting her drift. “You don’t have to worry about anything
going wrong with Betsy in charge. She’s been on the Founder’s Day committee
forever. All the proceeds go to Redstone’s volunteer fire department and Joe’s
the volunteer fire captain. There are a lot of nice people you haven’t met yet,
Sara. I’m glad you’re willing to help Betsy. You and Ben will have a great
time.”
“And what about the not-so-nice people in Redstone?”
Sara knew the second he finally got it. His eyes turned a deeper shade of blue.
“Your personal life is none of my business, Gabe,” Sara said. “But I hope you
understand why I’m worried that Ben could be subjected to another temper tantrum
from your girlfriend. Before I tell Betsy I’ll help her, I want your guarantee
there won’t be any trouble from Ronnie.”
“Sara,” he said. “Maybe it’s time we had a talk about Ronnie.”
He stood and walked around his desk.
But his voice had suddenly gone all soft.
And the look in his eyes was, well, dreamy.
Sara popped out of her chair like a jack-in-the-box. She was not up to hearing
talk about that woman—not when Sara herself still hadn’t shaken those silly
dreams where Gabe rode the white stallion and rescued her.
“Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say,” Sara said, quickly backing toward the
door. “I just wanted to warn you that Betsy was trying to recruit me. You know.
So you could ward off any conflict if Ben and I do go into town.”
Sara kept retreating.
Gabe kept advancing.
She could already smell him—fresh hay and leather—and the scent was so
intoxicating it almost made her swoon. Her back bumped the doorjamb, and Sara
flattened herself against it. He was standing much too close for comfort. One
step closer and she’d have her arms around his neck and her fingers tangled in
his sun-streaked hair.
He kept looking at her.
Sara kept holding her breath.
“I should have explained about Ronnie a long time ago,” he said, “but I—”
“I’m not asking you for an explanation, Gabe. Like I said, your personal life is
none of my business. I’m only asking you to keep Ronnie away from Ben. And I
don’t think that’s an unreasonable request.”
Sara could tell Gabe wanted to say something else.
But he didn’t.
And Sara saw her chance. She hurried through the door to safety. But when she
reached the stairs, Sara looked over her shoulder to find Gabe still in his
office doorway. “I told Betsy I would give her an answer,” Sara said. “I’d
appreciate you clearing things with Ronnie as soon as possible.”
Gabe nodded and walked into his office.
And Sara’s heart sank.
How badly she’d wanted him to come after her. How desperately she’d wanted him
to say it was over with Ronnie and that Sara had nothing to worry about.
But he didn’t.
Just as she would never tell Gabe how she really felt about him. Or that the
very thought of him being with Ronnie Kincaid made Sara crazy. That her bed was
where he belonged. And that no one would ever love him as much or appreciate him
more than she already did.

ONLY MINUTES AFTER Sara went upstairs, Gabe lingered outside her bedroom, his
hand poised for a gentle knock. He’d come to finally tell Sara the truth about
Ronnie. He was only one second away from knocking. But, instead, Gabe’s arm fell
to his side.
If Sara opened the door, there’d be no going back. She’d know about Ronnie and
that would eliminate the one solid obstacle between him and Sara. There would be
no reason the two of them couldn’t turn this marriage into a true one.
And Gabe couldn’t help it, but he just wasn’t ready.
Not for love.
Love was a risky business. Love left a man wide open. Disrupted his focus. Kept
him off balance. Handing his heart over to Sara could very well result in her
throwing it right back in his face. And that was a risk he just wasn’t ready to
take.
She’d told him only moments ago that his personal life was none of her business.
That she didn’t want an explanation about his relationship with Ronnie. And
though instinct told him that wasn’t necessarily honest, Gabe had to take her
words at face value.
Better to leave things the way they were.
Honor the agreement they’d made, and stick to it.
His decision made, Gabe stepped back from the door and headed down the hallway
for his nightly check on Ben. Gabe had already decided that he would talk to
Ronnie as Sara had asked him to do.
Sara wasn’t the only one who had no interest in having Ben subjected to Ronnie’s
wrath. And though Gabe hadn’t even seen Ronnie since the day he brought Ben and
Sara home, he’d make sure Ronnie knew that his warning to leave his family alone
hadn’t been an idle threat.
Ben and Sara were under his care now.
Coulters took care of their own.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TWO MONTHS AFTER Sara and Ben’s arrival in Colorado, the Coulters left the
Crested-C for their first official outing as a family. Smitty had gone on ahead
to Redstone with the rest of the ranch hands in Gabe’s truck.
“You’ll have to take the family vehicle to Founder’s Day,” Smitty had teased
Gabe at breakfast. “I need your truck to haul the boys.”
He’d been referring, of course, to Sara’s new red Jeep Cherokee.
Sitting behind the wheel of the Jeep now, Gabe could have passed for the typical
family man, Sara supposed. Except for the fact that this family man also had a
girlfriend. A girlfriend who, according to Gabe, had been pre-warned that he was
taking his new family to the celebration.
Still, Sara couldn’t keep from being nervous about running into Ronnie again.
And the steep gravel road leading down the mountain from the ranch wasn’t
helping the queasiness in her stomach one bit.
“Junior’s gonna show me all the fun things to do,” Ben announced from the
backseat. “He’s been to Founder’s Day before.”
Sara turned sideways in her seat. “That’s fine, Ben. As long as you stay where I
can see you.”
“Aw, Mom,” Ben grumbled, prompting Gabe to laugh.
“You’re forgetting you can practically see from one end of Redstone to the
other, Sara,” Gabe spoke up in Ben’s defense.
“It still doesn’t hurt to be careful,” Sara said. “Ben hasn’t lived here all his
life. He doesn’t know his way around town yet.”
“Do, too,” Ben argued. “Me and Smitty’s walked all over that town, Mom.”
“Smitty and I,” Sara corrected. As far as she was concerned, the subject was
closed.
Of course, Ben getting lost in Redstone was the least of her worries. She’d
tried to take Betsy’s words of encouragement that Gabe wouldn’t let Ronnie cause
a scene to heart. But another run-in with the woman had never been far from
Sarah’s mind. How did the pretend wife address the girlfriend who had a
legitimate claim to the man’s affection? Not something any of Sara’s experience
had prepared her for.
And so Sara forced herself to ask, “What about you, Gabe? Where will you be
while I’m helping Betsy, and Junior’s showing Ben all the fun things to do in
town?”
“Close at hand.”
You’d better be close at hand.
“Betsy never actually told me what she wanted me to do to help her. What type of
fund-raising booths do they have?”
Gabe shrugged. “The usual, I guess. Some booths have arts and crafts. There’s
always plenty of food. And there are some carnival-type booths where the kids
can try their luck at winning prizes.”
“And I’m gonna win lotsa prizes,” Ben declared.
Gabe laughed and said, “Did you bring your allowance, Ben? You have to pay to
play the games.”
Ben grinned and held up his two ten-dollar bills.
Sara had never been to a Founder’s Day celebration. But it did sound like
something she would enjoy. And that’s exactly what she intended to do. She was
going to enjoy herself and have fun without worrying that something bad was
going to happen.
Maybe all the worrying was the real problem anyway. She had a bad habit of
expecting the worst. And the worst was usually what happened to her. Maybe it
was time to expect nothing but the good.
Bring on the good.
It would be a welcome change from a lifetime of bad.

GABE KNEW exactly why Sara had asked where he planned to be during Founder’s
Day—the same reason he’d made a trip to the Flying-K earlier in the week. He’d
told Ronnie he was taking Ben and Sara to Founder’s Day, and he’d warned her
she’d better not start any trouble.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she’d snapped.
But now, Gabe worried his visit had only been the equivalent of waving a red
flag in front of a bull. Ronnie never took any slight—real or imagined—lying
down. And that meant he’d keep an eye on Ben and Sara just in case. What he
wanted most was for Sara and Ben to have a good time, to feel like they belonged
in this town.
He glanced at Sara again, noticing for the first time she was wearing a hint of
makeup today. The mascara emphasized her long, dark eyelashes, and a touch of
pink lipstick made her lips look full and moist.
She glanced over at him.
For once, Gabe said exactly what he was thinking. “You look exceptionally pretty
today, Sara. Doesn’t she, Ben?”
“Mom always looks pretty,” Ben said.
“I agree.”
She blushed slightly.
“Well, thank you both,” she said, reaching up to push a few wisps of hair under
her hair clasp.
Gabe turned his attention to the road, pleased with himself that he could pay
Sara a compliment, she could accept it, and that was that. No expectations, no
declarations of undying love, just a simple observation. He’d been able to get a
grip on his emotions over the past week after that close call of almost knocking
on Sara’s bedroom door.
And what a mistake that would have been.
Sara didn’t need him sending her mixed signals—not when he wasn’t ready to offer
her anything other than the friendship he promised. He’d let his emotions
temporarily override his own common sense. But now he was back in control, and
Gabe intended to keep it that way.
He’d weathered the storm and he’d come through, his old self again. And the fact
that Sara had agreed to go to Founder’s Day led him to believe she was finally
beginning to be comfortable with him and their arrangement. Just as he was
feeling comfortable.
Sara and Betsy hitting it off so well was even more assurance that Sara seemed
to be settling in. And he was definitely glad Ben and Junior had become best
friends. Kids needed other kids around, an escape from the adults who looked
after them. Gabe wouldn’t trade anything for his boyhood days. He hoped one day
Ben would look back on his childhood and feel the same way.
Yes, things did seem to be falling into place.
Sara and Ben had friends to keep them happy.
And Gabe had a ranch to run.
Life was good.
Gabe drove into Redstone and the first person they saw was Betsy waving madly in
their direction. She held Junior’s hand as Gabe pulled the Cherokee up beside
them.
“Redstone Boulevard’s blocked off and Joe’s gone ahead to find a parking place,”
Betsy said. “I was hoping you’d let Sara out here with me. It’ll save time and
we need to beat the crowd to our booth.”
“Sure,” Gabe said, looking over at Sara. “Go on with Betsy. Ben and Junior can
go with me to park the Jeep. We’ll find Joe and catch up with you later.”
Sara sent him a worried look.
And Gabe realized maybe Sara wasn’t as comfortable with him as he’d hoped. For
reassurance, he said, “I’d never let anything happen to Ben. You know that.”
Only then did she open her car door.
Trust, Gabe thought.
Slowly but surely Sara was beginning to trust him.
Provider.
Protector.
Friend.
Sara could count on him to be all those things.

GABE DROVE OFF with both boys and Sara found herself being dragged along by
Betsy, who still hadn’t bothered to tell her exactly what fund-raising booth
needed her help so desperately.
“You look absolutely gorgeous, Sara,” Betsy said. “All wholesome and sweet. Like
a fresh summer day.”
Sara laughed. “I’m sure you say that to all the victims you railroad into
helping you.”
But as they walked down Redstone Boulevard Sara realized even in her simple
white eyelet cotton sundress she was still completely overdressed for the
occasion. Betsy and all of the other women she’d seen so far were wearing jeans.
“I do wish you’d warned me that I needed to wear jeans, though,” Sara said,
thinking out loud. “I’m starting to feel self-conscious in this dress.”
“Oh, pooh,” Betsy said. “You always wear dresses. I bet you don’t even own a
pair of jeans.”
“But I could have bought a pair,” Sara protested.
Betsy looked at her. “Seriously? You really don’t own a pair of jeans?”
“I’ve always preferred dresses,” Sara lied.
She didn’t know Betsy well enough yet to tell her the hurtful things her foster
mother had said when she threw Sara out because she was pregnant. That the
self-righteous woman had accused Sara of being a low-life whore just like her
mother. And that the woman had screamed at her, demanding to know what Sara
expected walking around in skintight jeans and flaunting her body in front of
men to get their attention.
Sara hadn’t worn jeans since.
“I can’t believe you don’t own a pair of jeans,” Betsy said, shaking her head in
disbelief. “I’m sorry, Sara, but that’s just plain wrong. You can’t be a
rancher’s wife and not own jeans.”
“I’ll be sure to jot that down in my rancher’s-wife handbook,” Sara shot back.
Betsy laughed. “You do that. But honestly, you couldn’t have dressed more
appropriately for our fund-raising booth.”
“What type of booth is it?” Sara quizzed.
An older couple approached, delaying an answer.
“Sara Coulter, I want you to meet Marge and Hank Jones,” Betsy said. “Hank and
Marge own Jones Country Store.”
Being introduced as Sara Coulter for the first time addled Sara for a moment,
but she managed to nod and say a polite hello.
“Your Ben is just adorable, Sara,” Marge told her. “And so polite. I told Smitty
the other day how refreshing it was to see a boy Ben’s age with nice manners.”
She winked at Sara. “Proof that he has a good mother.”
“Why, thank you, Marge,” Sara said.
Betsy waited until Hank and Marge walked on down the street before she looked
over at Sara and said, “Good girl.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m bragging on you for accepting Marge’s compliment without reading anything
into it,” Betsy said. “It gives me hope you might eventually lose that Princess
of Paranoia tiara you’ve been wearing.”
Old habits die hard, Sara thought.
Out loud she said, “Oh, pooh!” stealing Betsy’s favorite expression.
They both laughed.
Until Betsy came to a stop.
“Here we are,” Betsy announced happily.
Sara felt the blood drain to her feet.
The booth had two giant red lips painted on the front.
The sign below the lips read: Kisses $10.00.
“Okay, cutie, now get behind the counter and make us lots of money,” Betsy said.
“I’ll round up the business and collect the money. You pucker up and deliver
some smoking-hot kisses.”
Sara remained glued to the spot.
“Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t you dare read anything into why I asked you to help
me. I didn’t even know which booth we’d get until this week.”
“And I’ve talked to you or seen you every day this week,” Sara reminded her,
“and not once did you mention anything about a kissing booth.”
“Would you have helped if I had mentioned it?”
“Absolutely not.”
“And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you,” Betsy admitted with a grin.
The look Sara sent her said she wasn’t appeased.
“Okay, Sara, I apologize for not telling you. But this kissing booth is a town
tradition the mayor insists we include every year no matter how much anyone
protests. Back when Redstone was first founded, women were scarce. The only
chance most cowboys had to get a kiss was at the Founder’s Day booth.”
“You people sure are big on tradition,” Sara grumbled.
“You bet we’re big on tradition,” Betsy said. “But do you know how much money
the kissing booth made last year?” Betsy answered her own question. “Twenty
lousy dollars. We’ve tried to explain to the mayor that cowboys aren’t going to
hand over their hard-earned money to kiss a bunch of women they’ve known since
the cradle. And that’s another reason I didn’t tell you so you could back out.
With a pretty new face like yours I guarantee we’re going to need a wheelbarrow
to haul off all our money at the end of the day.”
“No, we’re going to need the wheelbarrow to haul off your dead body,” Sara
threatened.
“You can kill me after we make tons of money,” Betsy promised. “The fire
department needs new hoses for the truck and those hoses don’t come cheap.”
“And if I refuse?”
Betsy looked at Sara for a long time. “Then you’ll be missing a great
opportunity to show everyone in town that you’re a good sport, Sara. And that
you’re willing to do your part in your new community.”
When Sara didn’t answer, Betsy said, “Come on, Sara. What’s the harm in giving a
few cowboys a kiss on the cheek?”
“Only on the cheek?”
“Only on the cheek,” Betsy assured her. She slid her purse off her shoulder,
fished inside and handed Sara a compact and a tube of lipstick. “Bright red,”
Betsy said, “to match the lips on the sign. Now lather up those lips and get
ready to make us some money.”
Before Sara could argue, Betsy started yelling to the crowd of people walking up
and down the street. “Kisses. Come get your kisses, cowboys. Ten dollars gets
you a kiss from the prettiest lips in Redstone.”
Sara groaned and rolled her eyes.
But she lathered her lips just as Betsy instructed.
A nicely dressed man was the first one to walk up and stop in front of their
booth. His three-piece suit was nicely pressed and his silver hair was
impeccably groomed. He was sixty-something, a little on the chubby side, and he
had the perpetual smile of a lifelong politician.
It didn’t really surprise Sara when Betsy slapped him on the back and said,
“This is our mayor, Gordon Cooper, Sara. Mayor Cooper is always the first
customer in line at the kissing booth on Founder’s Day.”
Sara smiled at the man and said hello.
She noticed people were now gathering around the booth at a mind-spinning pace.
Several people even clapped when the mayor reached into the pocket of his vest
and produced a crisp ten-dollar bill. He closed his eyes, leaned forward and, to
Sara’s horror, produced an absolutely perfect pucker.
“Go for it, Gordon!” someone yelled out.
That’s when Sara noticed Gabe standing at the back of the crowd, a big fat grin
on his face at her predicament. She’d asked him point-blank what types of booths
she could expect at Founder’s Day. And not once had he mentioned anything about
the town’s traditional kissing booth.
So Gabe thinks this is funny, does he?
Sara placed her hands on both sides of the Mayor Cooper’s chubby cheeks and
kissed the poor man so thoroughly she feared he might need the assistance of the
volunteer fire department to resuscitate him when she finally let him go. No one
said a word when the mayor practically staggered away from the booth.
Then one cowboy yelled, “Hot damn! I’m next.”
Within seconds, cowboys from every direction began falling in line. When Sara
looked back at Gabe his big grin was gone. Seconds later, so was he.
Oh, no. What have I done? It was her first official appearance in town, and
she’d obviously embarrassed Gabe thoroughly. Plus she’d almost given Redstone’s
mayor a coronary.
“What part of cheek did you not understand?” Betsy leaned over and whispered.
“We’re close to having a stampede on our hands here.”
“It was Gabe’s cheeky grin,” Sara whispered back. “He was laughing at me. And
I’m sorry, but it made me furious.”
“Jeez,” Betsy said. “I wish you two would just jump each other’s bones and get
it over with.”
“Betsy!”
But Betsy turned back to face the rowdy crowd and do a little damage control.
“Sorry, boys,” she said with a big grin, “but the rest of you only get a kiss on
the cheek. Only Mayor Cooper qualifies for lip service, since that’s what Gordon
gives us most of the time.”
Everybody laughed.
But not a single cowboy fell out of line.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
COWBOY AFTER COWBOY took any type of kiss Sara was willing to give them before
they strolled off down the street, an imprint of her bright red lips on their
cheeks, and a big smile on their faces. Betsy was happy raking in the money. The
crowd cheered the cowboys on. Sara was even getting caught up in the merriment.
Until her worst nightmare became a reality.
From out of nowhere, Ronnie Kincaid slithered up to join the rest of the curious
onlookers, a far-from-friendly smile on her face. Everything about the woman
screamed sex appeal. Black silk shirt, unbuttoned to show her cleavage. Black
skintight jeans and black high-heeled boots. Pouting lips. Bedroom eyes.
She could have been featured in an X-rated movie.
And there stood Sara, looking like Mary Poppins.
Call her the Princess of Paranoia, but Sara knew it wasn’t her imagination that
everyone kept looking at Ronnie, then back at her. They were comparing the dowdy
wife to the sex-kitten girlfriend. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out who
was winning most of the votes.
Ronnie moved a little closer to the booth.
Sara stood a little straighter.
Her first instinct was to call out to Ben, who was running across the street
with Junior to join a group of other children. But she thought better of it when
Ronnie’s cold gaze narrowed in her direction. Better if Ben were safely on the
other side of the street, Sara quickly decided, when another glance around the
crowd proved that Mr. Close-at-Hand was still nowhere to be found.
Sara managed to smile at the cowboy who had just handed over his money, but she
continued to watch her enemy out of the corner of her eye. And Ronnie was sure
laying it on thick—mingling here and there, strutting her stuff, laughing a bit
too loudly.
She was definitely up to something.
It didn’t calm Sara’s nerves when a good-looking cowboy walked up beside Ronnie
and threw his arm possessively around her shoulder. Betsy had mentioned she
heard Ronnie was seeing someone. But Sara suspected Ronnie was only trying to
make Gabe jealous. And when Ronnie whispered something in the cowboy’s ear that
made him throw his head back and laugh, her suspicions were confirmed.
Gabe had brought his fake wife to town.
So Ronnie had decided to bring her fake boyfriend.
“Red alert,” Betsy warned, as if Sara couldn’t already see that for herself. “I
think you’d better take a break until the storm blows by.”
“Thank you,” Sara said, and quickly stepped aside.
“Okay, boys,” Betsy said. “I think it’s time we gave this pretty lady a break.
Pretty lips like hers aren’t used to kissing scruffy faces. But I’m a hometown
gal. Scruffy is all I know.”
A groan of disapproval rumbled through the crowd.
“Forget it, Betsy,” called one of the cowboys in line. “I’m not paying ten
dollars to kiss somebody I kissed for free in sixth grade.”
The crowd clapped and hollered at his comment.
“But I’m a much better kisser than I was in sixth grade, Jim,” Betsy replied.
“Step on up here and find out for yourself.”
More laughs. More clapping.
Sara was beginning to think Betsy had saved the day.
“I’ll pay one hundred dollars for a kiss from that pretty brunette,” the cowboy
standing with Ronnie called out.
Everyone turned to look at him.
“French style,” he added, looking Sara up and down with a leering grin. “Long
and slow.”
Nobody laughed this time.
But even more people began gathering around the booth. Waiting, Sara knew, for
the fireworks to begin.
Damn you, Gabe Coulter, Sara thought at the exact same time an unexpected arm
slid tightly around her waist.
“Are you deaf, Charlie?” Gabe called out to Ronnie’s cohort. “My wife is taking
a break.”
It was so quiet Sara could hear her own heart beating.
“Maybe you should let your wife decide for herself if she’s taking a break,
Gabe?” he said with a satisfied smirk. “She might like it. From what I hear, she
isn’t even getting kissed over at the Crested-C.”
Without warning Gabe pulled Sara to face him.
And he kissed her senseless.
It was a kiss filled with every ounce of passion she’d been trying to suppress.
A kiss that made the world stop, the cheers from the rowdy crowd fade and time
stand perfectly still.
When their lips parted, Gabe looked as shaken as Sara felt. But he kept his arm
tightly around her waist when he sent Ronnie’s troublemaker another deadly look.
“You heard wrong, Charlie,” Gabe said. “But if you’re still looking to get
kissed today, I’d say your best bet is standing right beside you.”
Sara felt her face flame.
Gabe had kissed her. But only to make Ronnie jealous.
Ronnie smacked Charlie’s arm off her shoulder and stomped down the street,
pushing people out of her way. Charlie only laughed and strolled after her.
Sara slowly eased out of Gabe’s grasp. But she was way too angry to pretend that
she wasn’t.
Turning her back to the crowd, Sara snapped, “The next time you decide to make
Ronnie jealous, Gabe, don’t do it at my expense.”
“I thought you said my personal life was none of your business.”
“It isn’t. As long as you don’t put me in the middle.”
“You’re wrong, Sara,” he said. “I was only trying to protect you.”
“Protect me? Protecting me would have been making sure your girlfriend kept her
word and didn’t make a scene.”
Anger flashed in his eyes again. Then he dug into the front pocket of his jeans
and handed over the keys to the Cherokee. “I think it’s best if I ride back with
the boys. You and Ben can take the Cherokee.”
“Gladly!” And she meant it.
Gabe walked away.
But nothing would ever be the same between them again.
Not after a kiss like that one.

CHARLIE GRABBED the driver’s side door of the Suburban before Ronnie could slam
it. “Let go of the damn door, Charlie,” Ronnie warned. “I mean it.”
She tried to pull it shut, but he was stronger.
“Move over,” he said, giving her a push. “I drove you here. I’ll drive you
home.”
Several people had already stopped to watch. Ronnie leveled a she-devil glare in
their direction. They took the hint and hurried on down the street.
Only then did Ronnie give in and move over so Charlie could slide behind the
wheel. But they were well out of Redstone before Charlie finally looked over at
her.
“I’m the one who should be pissed off, you know,” he said. “Gabe was ready to
kick my ass back there.”
Ronnie glared at him. “You could still get your ass kicked if you don’t shut
up.”
He had the nerve to laugh.
“I hate it for you, babe,” he taunted. “But if that kiss didn’t prove how Gabe
feels about his new wife, you need your vision checked.”
“I said shut up!”
“And Gabe does have himself one fine-looking woman,” Charlie rambled on. “No one
can argue about that.”
Ronnie made a lunge for him.
Charlie held her off with one hand.
“She’s just not my type,” he added.
“She’s breathing, isn’t she?” She flopped back against her seat in a huff.
“Yeah, she’s breathing. And she’ll probably be breathing pretty hard later
tonight.”
This time Ronnie’s fist connected up against his jaw.
Again, Charlie only laughed at her.
“No, sir,” he said. “Gabe’s wife isn’t my type at all.” He sent Ronnie a
smoldering look that left no doubt about what was on his mind. “No, I like my
women bold and brassy. Hard to handle. You never know what to expect from a
woman like that. But you can always guarantee one thing. The sex will be
sizzling and leave you begging for more.”
Their eyes locked for a second.
A white-hot heat spread through Ronnie like a flash fire. Charlie always knew
exactly what to say to make her wet—get her hot—and make her want him.
Rough—no holding back.
That’s the way she liked it.
And that’s the way Charlie liked to give it to her.
He made a detour onto a dirt road leading down to the river. And by the time
Charlie pulled the Suburban to a stop in a secluded area, Ronnie had forgotten
all about Gabe giving his silly wife a stupid kiss. Charlie came at her the same
way he always came at her, pulling her against him, devouring her mouth with
his, taking her prisoner.
“Let’s get in the back,” Ronnie moaned when his tongue slid down her neck to
lick the space between her breasts.
Minutes later she was naked and waiting for him on the folded-down backseat. He
took his time climbing into the back of the truck, taunting her as he slowly
unhooked his belt buckle. Finally, he let his jeans drop, giving Ronnie a good
look at just how much he wanted her.
In one swift motion, he flipped her on her stomach.
Ronnie climaxed the second he plunged inside her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IT WAS AFTER TEN on Sunday morning when Gabe tossed the last of his gear into
the back of his truck. He’d skipped breakfast, in no mood to see Sara. And he’d
spent the morning in the bunkhouse making a list of things he wanted done while
he was gone. How long he’d be gone, Gabe wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he
had to put some distance between him and the woman who had his head all screwed
up.
He still couldn’t believe he’d lost control like that. Or that he’d actually
been jealous over some damn silly kissing booth. But when every cowboy in the
county started lining up to kiss Sara, he’d gone from jealous to outright
pissed.
Then rage had taken over when Ronnie’s foreman tried to harass Sara. Gabe should
have just knocked Charlie out and put an end to it. Instead, Gabe had made a big
mistake.
He’d kissed her.
Now there was no turning back.
At least not to the pretend existence he’d been trying to maintain since the day
he brought Sara home. And that’s what had him worried. Taking that giant step
off the cliff called love scared the hell out of Gabe.
Chances were he’d never survive the fall.
“I never thought I’d see the day when someone else’s horses were more important
than your own,” Smitty said as he limped in Gabe’s direction.
Gabe’s scowl didn’t keep Smitty from lumbering up beside him. “I told you,” Gabe
said. “I’m just trying to help a friend out, that’s all.”
And part of his statement was true.
His good friend Rowdy Stancil had called a few days earlier complaining about a
new stallion he couldn’t quite break. Gabe had given Rowdy a few suggestions on
the phone. But it wasn’t until Gabe realized he was head over heels in love that
he decided to pay Rowdy a visit in person.
“Rowdy ain’t much of a friend, if you ask me,” Smitty said, still trying, Gabe
knew, to get a rise out of him before he left the ranch. “Nope. In my book,
friends don’t expect a man to run off and leave his crew shorthanded during the
busiest time of the year.”
Gabe ignored the comment and stomped to the driver’s side. Smitty matched every
step he took, despite the use of his cane. Once inside the cab, Gabe slammed the
door and frowned at Smitty again.
“What’s the matter, old man? You getting too frail to run this ranch without
me?”
Smitty flashed a grin. “Are you too lovesick to stay and run this ranch
yourself?”
Gabe frowned again, but he didn’t bother to deny the accusation.
Gabe’s only reply was to turn on the ignition and leave Smitty standing in a
cloud of dust in the middle of the driveway.
Nosy old buzzard, Gabe thought, and picked up speed.
But it wasn’t until he was miles away from the ranch that he finally relaxed his
grip on the steering wheel and settled into his seat. What he needed was some
good advice from his old friend Rowdy.
Some no-nonsense cowboy advice to be exact. And Rowdy was just the person to
give it to him.
Rowdy always put his ranch first. He took his horses seriously, and there wasn’t
a female alive who had the power to tempt Rowdy Stencil into participating in
some lovesick bullshit.
Love.
How could Gabe possibly be in love with someone he’d only known a couple of
months? But he knew the answer before the question crossed his mind. He’d fallen
in love with Sara the day she’d been standing at the picnic table in Texas,
baring her soul and angry enough to cry.
But Rowdy will straighten me out.
Gabe put the pedal to the metal and headed for Montana.
Maybe they’d even take a few packhorses and head to the high country and get in
a little trout fishing. Sleep out under the stars for a night or two. Get back
to nature, where a man had the freedom to take a good look at his life and
reaffirm his deepest beliefs. The same type of freedom a man lost when his heart
got all tangled up with a woman who could render him defenseless with the turn
of her head.
Gabe switched on the radio and a few minutes later he was whistling along to a
lively country tune, still holding on to the firm belief that all it would take
to clear his head was a little time away from the woman who had somehow managed
to steal his heart.

SARA HAD WATCHED Gabe leave the ranch from the kitchen window. But it wasn’t
until Gabe’s truck disappeared out of sight that she reacted. The sharp pain in
her solar plexus nearly doubled her over.
Save the heartache, the voice inside her head had scolded. Save it for when you
have to explain to Ben why your decision to bring him to Colorado has blown up
in your face.
Sara straightened, pressed a hand to her midsection and called on her inner
strength.
The same as she’d done at the kissing booth after the showdown with Ronnie.
She’d stood there smiling like nothing was wrong and taking the money while
Betsy took over handing out kisses. She’d refused to give Ronnie or Gabe the
satisfaction of spoiling her son’s first—and possibly last—Founder’s Day
celebration.
Gabe had not ventured far from their vicinity the rest of the day, even though
he kept his distance. In fact, their only eye contact after the kiss had been
the curt nod Gabe had given her when Ben took it upon himself to scamper off to
tell his uncle they were leaving and heading for home.
Sara had secretly hoped Gabe would follow.
But he didn’t.
Instead, it was much later when he’d returned to the ranch with Smitty and the
ranch hands. She’d been tempted to knock on his bedroom door and tell him they
needed to discuss the fiasco at the kissing booth but, of course, she hadn’t
done that, either.
She’d kept reassuring herself if she pretended the kiss had never happened,
maybe Gabe would do the same. That maybe everything would blow over and things
would return to normal.
But never once had Sara expected Gabe to leave. If Gabe was willing to abandon
the ranch during the busiest time of the year, there was no going back to
normal. Clearly he was struggling with a decision.
He had a choice to make.
And Sara feared she knew what Gabe’s choice would be.
Pack your things and leave now, she kept telling herself. But only one thing
stopped her. She was not going to give Gabe Coulter an easy way out.
He’d been the one to storm into their lives, spouting clichés about blood kin
and family ties. She and Ben certainly hadn’t come looking for Gabe. He’d even
challenged her to do what was best for her son.
So no, she wasn’t going to leave.
She’d be right here when Gabe returned. And if it turned out Gabe wanted her and
Ben gone, so be it. At least she could leave Redstone with a clear conscience,
knowing she’d lived up to her end of the bargain.
“Got your shopping list ready?” Smitty more or less barked in Sara’s direction
as he opened the screen door and entered the kitchen.
Sara made her way to the opposite counter where the old guy knew full well she
kept her running list of the supplies they needed. Personally, she thought
Smitty’s daily shopping trips were a big waste of time and money. And that they
should buy in bulk for the ranch and stock supplies. But Sara also suspected
without her daily list, Smitty would lose his excuse to spend most of his
mornings in Redstone, hanging out with his cronies at Jones Country Store.
After handing him the list, Sara expected him to shuffle out of the kitchen the
way he usually did. Instead, he poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot Sara
always kept full, out of habit from her restaurant days. When he took a seat at
the table, Sara retrieved the cream and sugar from the counter and placed them
in front of him. He offered her a less than amicable grunt of thanks.
“It ain’t none of my business how you run your kitchen, missy,” Smitty said as
he stirred the milk into his coffee. “But I’ve been meaning to mention that
you’d save yourself a lot of time and hard work if you went back to using them
paper plates and cups, and them plastic forks and spoons like I always used when
I had to cook for the boys.”
Sara held her temper in check, thinking to herself that Smitty would probably be
back to using those paper plates and plastic forks much sooner than he expected.
She said instead, “I guess it’s just a woman thing, Smitty. With all the
beautiful china and silverware in these cabinets, I think it would be a real
shame not to use them.”
“Mary wouldn’t settle for anything but the very best,” Smitty said with a hint
of pride in his voice. “And Luke made sure the very best was what Mary had.”
Aware that Smitty was obviously in the mood for a chat, Sara decided to take
advantage of the situation. If anyone could give her any information about what
was going on inside Gabe’s head, Smitty could. But Sara knew she’d have to
approach the subject cautiously, and only ask if Smitty gave her the
opportunity.
She refreshed her own cup and took a seat beside the old man. “I don’t mean to
pry, Smitty,” Sara began slowly, “but I’ve never known exactly what happened to
Ben’s grandparents.”
He stirred his coffee a few more times before he answered. “It was a real
tragedy. And that’s a fact.”
After a few more sips from his cup, Smitty said, “It was the middle of January
fifteen years ago, but sometimes it seems like yesterday. Luke had taken Mary
into town like he always did on Saturday mornings, and I kept the boys here with
me to round up the livestock. There was a blizzard on the way and we had to get
ready for it.”
He looked at her and said, “You’ll find out soon enough that snow is a fact of
life at this elevation. When it starts flying it never stops. Not until spring.”
Sara wasn’t looking for a weather report—particularly since she might not be
here come winter—but she knew better than to rush him.
Smitty heaved another deep sigh. “The weather bureau predicted the storm
wouldn’t reach Redstone until late Sunday night. But things turned real nasty by
the time Luke and Mary started up the mountain that afternoon. Luke had driven
these roads all his life, and I’m sure he thought he could make it. And he would
have, if it hadn’t already snowed so heavy on the mountain all that week.
“A small avalanche took out twenty feet of the road leading up to the ranch. And
when it did, it swept Luke and Mary to the bottom of the canyon with it.” He
shook his head. “They were buried instantly. The snow was so deep it took two
whole days to dig them out.”
Sara shuddered, thinking how nervous she was traveling on the winding gravel
road leading up to the Crested-C.
“Gabe was only eighteen,” Smitty said, “and Billy was only eleven. But I watched
Gabe Coulter become a man overnight. He took charge of this ranch, and he took
care of his little brother. And he did a fine job of it, too.”
“With a lot of help from you, I’m sure,” Sara said, giving the old man credit
where credit was due.
Smitty shrugged off her comment. “I was around in case Gabe needed me.”
“But what about you, Smitty?” Sara decided to ask. “Don’t you regret not having
your own ranch and a family of your own?”
“Working this ranch is all I’ve ever needed,” Smitty said with conviction.
Just like Gabe, Sara thought.
When Smitty’s face suddenly turned grave with concern, Sara worried she’d
actually said those words out loud.
“With Luke gone, I wasn’t sure we could hold on to the ranch. A good breeder
gets his business from a solid reputation, and at that point, Gabe wasn’t much
more than a snot-nosed kid. I ain’t proud of it, but I pushed that boy day and
night. And all the while I kept drilling it into Gabe’s head that the ranch had
to come first. That emotions were a sign of weakness. And that nothing or nobody
could ever stand in his way if he wanted this ranch to be a success.”
Sara reached out and touched his arm. “You did what you had to do, Smitty. And
it worked.”
“Yeah, it worked,” Smitty said. “Maybe too good.”
Before Sara could ask what he meant, Smitty cocked his head in her direction. “I
don’t mean to pry, either. But I can’t for the life of me figure out why you let
Gabe ride out of here this morning without telling that boy you were in love
with him.”
Sara blushed. “You mean it’s that obvious?”
“To everyone but a stubborn fool like Gabe,” Smitty said. “Don’t you realize
Gabe’s running scared right now because he feels the same way about you?”
Sara was tempted to bring up the subject of Ronnie Kincaid, but her pride
wouldn’t let her go there. Instead, she said, “I do love Gabe, Smitty. But if
Gabe feels the same way about me, he’ll have to make the first move.”
Smitty frowned and stroked his woolly beard. “You know,” he said, “I had two old
mules once that remind me a whole lot of you and Gabe.”
Sara’s eyebrows shot up a notch. “Oh, really?”
“One mule was so stubborn it wouldn’t eat a bite, no matter what type of grain I
tried to feed it. And the other mule wouldn’t drink a drop of water, no matter
how many times I led it to the trough to drink. I’m telling you, those two mules
were a real sad pair. And that’s a fact.”
“So?” Sara asked on cue. “What did you do?”
“I shot them both and put them out of their misery.”
Sara laughed. “And the moral to this story would be?”
The old man pushed himself back from the table and reached for his cane. At the
door, he looked over his shoulder. “Life’s too short to waste it being stubborn,
missy. If you love Gabe, you tell him you love him before it’s too late.”
The screen door banged and Smitty was gone.
But Sara remained sitting at the table, staring into her cup and praying with
all her heart that what Smitty said was true—Gabe was only running scared
because he loved her, too.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
GABE REACHED the Beartooth Ranch on the outskirts of Billings, Montana, just
before nine o’clock Sunday night. The ten-hour-plus trip should have exhausted
him. Instead, Gabe felt pumped up and ready for a little hell-raising. And he
was counting on his old friend to oblige him.
Raising hell was how Rowdy got his nickname.
Gabe brought the truck to a stop in Rowdy’s driveway, unconcerned that there
were no lights on inside the house. Monday morning always started at sunrise.
And like most cowboys, Rowdy restricted his partying to Friday and Saturday
nights only.
Except on special occasions. And this Sunday night was one of those times.
Gabe left the truck and took a long, leisurely stretch before he bounded up the
front-porch stairs and banged his fist against Rowdy’s front door. It took
several moments before a light came on, flashing a golden shadow across the
front porch.
Gabe grinned and banged on the door even harder.
“Hold your horses, dammit! I’m coming,” Rowdy yelled as he jerked the door open.
He stumbled onto the porch wearing nothing but the pair of jeans he was still
trying to fasten at his waist. A big grin spread across his face when he
realized who was banging on his front door.
“Why, Gabe Coulter, you old dog,” Rowdy said. He gave Gabe’s hand a firm shake.
“Why didn’t you let me know you were headed this way?”
“I’ve never needed an invitation before,” Gabe said, and walked in past Rowdy
without being invited. But he’d no sooner stepped inside the door when another
voice rang out from the darkened hallway on Gabe’s right.
“Rowdy, honey? Is everything okay?”
Gabe glanced at Rowdy. Rowdy shrugged and sent Gabe a sheepish grin.
“You go on back to bed now, sugar,” he crooned to the redhead hovering outside
his bedroom door. “Gabe’s an old friend of mine from Colorado.”
Gabe couldn’t believe it. He’d known Rowdy most of his life. And the one rule
Rowdy had always lived by was “never take a woman to your own bed unless you
plan to keep her there on a permanent basis.”
Not Rowdy.
Not his role model.
Not the man who’d vowed he’d remain single for life.
Gabe sent Rowdy a disgusted look. “I guess I should have called first.”
“You mean you came alone?”
“Hell, yeah,” Gabe said. “Why?”
“Just wondering,” Rowdy said, grinning at him. “I thought you might have brought
the new Mrs. Coulter along.”
“And how’d you hear about her?”
“How do you think?”
“Then I’m sure Smitty also told you we only got married for the boy’s sake.”
“Yeah, Smitty mentioned something like that when I called last week,” Rowdy
said. “But when he rattled on about how great she was, I figured even an old
saddle tramp like you would have enough sense to realize you’d lucked into a
pretty good thing.”
Gabe took a playful swing at Rowdy.
Rowdy was quick enough to dodge it.
“I hate to say this, Gabe,” he teased, “but you look like hell warmed over. And
you definitely look like a man who could use a stiff drink.”
“You mean sugar still lets you drink?” Gabe jeered.
It was Rowdy’s turn to take a swing.
They finally settled themselves at Rowdy’s kitchen table with a bottle of
bourbon between them. Gabe glanced at the man who was only a year older,
thinking how people had often mistaken them for brothers. They were practically
the same height and build and, like most cowboys whose time was spent on the
open range, Rowdy’s blond hair was in bad need of a good haircut.
“So, tell me,” Rowdy said after he’d poured them both a second drink. “How bad
do you have it for this woman you only married for your nephew’s sake?”
Gabe picked up his glass and belted down the liquid. “Let’s just say I kissed
her over twenty-four hours ago and even this whiskey can’t wash away the taste
of her lipstick.”
Rowdy let out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”
“That bad.”
“Then what in the hell are you doing in Montana, man?”
“I thought if I spent a few days in Montana with you, it might clear my head.”
“And what if she’s gone when you get back?”
Fear gripped Gabe’s heart. The thought of Sara leaving while he was gone had
never crossed his mind. Why wouldn’t Sara leave? Instead of telling her exactly
how he felt, he’d stormed off like the coward that he was. And he’d left her to
believe he’d only kissed her to make Ronnie jealous.
“So, what’s got you in such a stew, Gabe?” Rowdy leaned forward and filled his
glass again. “Does it bother you that Billy’s the one who met her first?”
“Hell, no,” Gabe said, and he meant it. “She was an innocent kid when she ran
into Billy. And we both know my brother never had any scruples when it came to
women. Sara never had a chance from the minute Billy said hello.”
“So, what’s the problem? Is she butt ugly? Hard to get along with? Dumb as a
fence post?”
“No, dammit,” Gabe said. “She’s beautiful. And she’s smart and easygoing. Sara
is everything a man could want.”
“I see. So this isn’t about Sara. It’s about you. You fooled around and fell in
love. And to put it bluntly, you’re one scared-shitless cowpoke.”
Gabe nodded.
“Exactly what part scares you?”
“Exactly what part doesn’t?” Gabe grumbled.
Rowdy snorted. “Hell, Gabe, I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of not having
anything to keep me warm at night but my own imagination. We’ve both worked
hard. We’ve both paid our dues. And because of it, we’ve become successful
ranchers. But there comes a time in every man’s life when he has to face the
fact that being a lone desperado isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
Rowdy tilted his head toward his bedroom. “If I’m lucky, that little gal in
there is going to marry me. And if you have any sense left in that thick skull
of yours, you’ll head back to Colorado. If you don’t, you’ll be getting a
divorce before you even find out if you like being married.”
When Gabe refused to comment, Rowdy leaned back in his chair and crossed his
arms over his bare chest. “The way I see it, Gabe, it’s the easiest thing in the
world to isolate yourself from life and stay hidden out on the range with a
bunch of horses who don’t demand a thing but a place to graze and a cool stream
to take a drink. But it takes real guts to make a permanent commitment to
another human being. I’ve finally grown up. What about you?”
Gabe didn’t answer right away.
But he finally said, “Maybe I’ve grown up, too, Rowdy. As hard as I try, I can’t
picture the rest of my life without Sara in it.”
When Rowdy grinned, Gabe said, “At least pacify me with one last toast to those
die-hard desperados we both used to be.”
Grabbing the bottle from the middle of the table, Rowdy poured each of them
another drink. “To all the young desperados out riding the open range,” he said,
clinking his glass against Gabe’s. “And to all the old desperados like us who
have finally found their way home.”

“I NEED TWO COOKIES, Mom,” Ben announced late Monday afternoon as he raced into
the kitchen. “One for me, and one for Bandit.”
Sara walked to the cookie jar and handed her son a cookie for each fist, then
steeled herself for the loud bang as the screen door slammed behind him. She
walked back to the stove, pierced her pot roast several times with a meat fork,
then closed the oven door and set the timer. She heard the screen door open
again.
“No more cookies, Ben, and I mean it,” she called over her shoulder. “You’ll
ruin your supper.” Expecting a lengthy argument, Sara turned around.
The meat fork fell from her hand.
“I thought you were in Montana.”
“And I thought you’d be gone when I got back.”
Sara blinked rapidly to clear her eyes. “Is that what you want, Gabe? For me to
leave?”
“God, no.”
He closed the distance between them so fast Sara gasped when he pulled her into
his arms. And the searing kiss he gave her left Sara’s fingers tangled in the
long curls at the nape of Gabe’s neck. When they finally broke apart, all they
could do was stare at each other.
“I love you, Sara,” Gabe said, his gaze searching her face. “I wouldn’t blame
you if you walked out and never looked back. But I’m asking you to stay and let
me prove it to you.”
He took her breath away. There was so much she wanted to say the words backed up
against the lump in her throat. Finally she managed to say, “I love you, too,
Gabe.”
He looked surprised. “You do?”
“Completely.”
Now that she could speak it was time to put all her cards on the table. “My love
comes with only one condition, Gabe. It has to be me. Only me. I won’t share you
with anyone else.”
The lines of his face softened as he met her gaze. “There isn’t anyone else,
Sara. I’ve wanted to tell you that from the beginning. But I was afraid—”
Sara touched his lips with her fingertips.
“Don’t,” she said. “I can’t change my past with Billy. And you can’t change your
past with Ronnie. All I care about is now. And the future I hope we have
together.”
“There’ll never be anyone but you,” Gabe promised.
He took her hand, walking backward as he led her in the direction of the stairs.
When Sara cast a worried glance at the door, Gabe sent her a guilty look. “There
isn’t anyone to worry about,” he said. “I just sent Smitty into town. He took
Ben with him.”
“You were pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?” Sara accused, but she didn’t
halt their progress.
“I was sure I couldn’t stand another minute without showing you how much I love
you.”
“Good answer,” Sara said.
He drew her into his arms again when they reached the top of the stairs. He
kissed her. Longer this time. And with much more urgency. They more or less
stumbled through the door and into Gabe’s bedroom.
She could feel the extent of his need, the hardness pressing against her, and
the pressure of his firm body close against hers left Sara’s mind spinning.
“You are so beautiful,” he said as his fingers tackled the buttons of her loose
cotton dress.
Sara returned the favor and unbuttoned his shirt.
Within seconds, they were both naked.
She should have felt self-conscious standing stark naked in front of Gabe for
the first time in broad daylight. But she didn’t. Not with Gabe looking at her
the way he was now, his eyes filled with love, his face so full of emotion.
He cupped her face in his hands and he kissed her again. Then he reached up and
removed the clip from her hair.
Her hair came loose and tumbled down her back.
Gabe let the long strands slide through his fingers.
“I’ve wanted to do that forever,” he said.
“I’ll wear my hair down more often,” Sara promised.
“No,” he said. “No one sees your hair down but me.”
He swept her up then and carried her across the room. When he placed her on his
bed, Gabe pulled her close and whispered against her ear, “I want to make love
to you, Sara. As my wife. The only woman I want in my life.”
Instinctively, he’d known she needed to hear that.
And it only made Sara love Gabe more.
He took his time. Never hurrying, his eyes never leaving her face as his hands
roamed slowly over her body. Sara tingled each time he touched her bare skin.
And she knew each caress was a pure act of love. He was savoring the moment and
allowing her to do the same. Making their first time together special. Sacred.
Something they would always remember.
“I want to kiss you here,” he said.
His mouth moved to the sensitive hollow of her neck.
Sara closed her eyes and gave in to the sensation.
“And here.” His lips moved down to her hardened nipples.
Sara’s fingers tangled in his hair.
His tongue moved lower, trailing down her stomach.
“I want to kiss you all over,” he whispered.
Slowly, he parted her legs.
Sara’s nails dug into his hard bare shoulders.
She whispered Gabe’s name when his mouth moved lower.

ONLY AFTER GABE FELT Sara give in to pleasure, did he slide his body up the full
length of hers. He paused for a moment, propped up on one elbow, looking down at
the woman he loved with all his heart.
He’d never seen anything more beautiful.
Her long hair fanned out across his pillow, and the sight of her flushed cheeks
and her swollen lips drove him crazy. Still, he was determined to pleasure her
again before he took any pleasure himself. He wanted to take his time, show Sara
exactly what it meant for a man to truly love a woman.
She didn’t give him that chance.
She pulled his head down for a long kiss.
And then another.
Her hand trailed down his stomach.
Her fingers closed tightly around him.
“Make love to me, Gabe. Now.”
Gabe lost all reason.
His hands slid beneath her hips, pulling Sara to him. There was no holding back
now. Nothing to keep them from being swept up in a frenzy of pure driving need.
They both cried out when he slid deep inside her.
Her arms went around his neck. Her legs wrapped around his waist. And Sara
became everything. Everything Gabe wanted. All he’d ever need.
Gabe quickly reversed their positions.
He wanted her on top. Wanted Sara to feel him deep inside her. Wanted to
heighten her pleasure as they rode one glorious wave of ecstasy after another.
She was getting close.
He could feel it.
He could feel her heat. Her wetness. Her muscles tightening around him as he
held on to her hips. He thrust deeper. Moved faster. His own desire mounted as
he pushed Sara closer and closer to the point of no return.
Finally, she cried out and collapsed against him.
Her long hair brushed across his face.
And Gabe lost all control.
Breathless, they clung to each other.
Amazed over what they’d just shared.
Aware this was only the beginning.

“I HOPE YOU REALIZE I don’t intend to spend another night without you,” Gabe
said, kissing the top of Sara’s head.
Sara snuggled closer to him. “I could be persuaded to pay you a visit after Ben
is asleep tonight.”
He tilted her chin up to look at him. Sara worried he didn’t understand.
“You’re right. Ben needs to get used to us as a couple before you move into my
bedroom.”
Sara kissed him.
Gabe grinned. “What was that for?”
“For always thinking about Ben.”
“I’m not thinking about Ben right now,” he teased, and reached for her again.
But the unmistakable sound of the flatbed truck pulling into the driveway forced
them back to the real world.
Gabe left the bed and began pulling on his jeans. “I’ll shower at the
bunkhouse,” he said. “But I’ll buy you some time by stalling Ben and Smitty.”
Once dressed, he started for the door.
“Don’t say anything to Smitty, okay?”
He paused and gave her a quizzical look.
“I know Smitty isn’t stupid,” Sara said, “but he’ll need time to adjust to us
being a couple, too.”
Gabe walked back to the bed and kissed her.
“And what was that for?”
“Because I love you,” he said, and slipped out the door.
Thirty minutes later, Sara had showered and was again busy tending her pot roast
when Smitty limped into the kitchen whistling a happy tune. He placed the sack
of groceries on the table. Sara thanked him as usual and began unloading the
paper sack.
“Why, if I didn’t know better,” Smitty said with an unmistakable gleam in his
eye, “I’d say you look a little flushed this afternoon, missy. You ain’t running
a fever, are you?”
Sara purposely ignored the old rascal’s question.
But Smitty wasn’t too far off his mark.
She was running a fever—a fever that raged through her body every time she
thought about the nights she’d be spending in Gabe’s bed. For the first time in
her life, Sara had everything she’d ever wanted.
Only one pesky thought nagged at the back of Sara’s mind: How can a life so
wonderful possibly last for someone like me?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE next week is Thanksgiving,” Betsy commented as she and
Sara stood in the back of the kindergarten classroom.
They were watching while Junior and Ben led Joe and Gabe around the room,
pointing out pictures of the Pilgrims and turkeys the boys had painted for the
holiday open house. This was what the holiday was all about—family, friends,
tradition—and for the first time in her life, Sara would celebrate in that
fashion. These experiences were like her fantasies. She was overwhelmed.
Gratitude laced with fear that none of it would last dogged her.
“Hey? Are you okay?” Betsy grabbed Sara’s arm.
She managed a nod.
Betsy fumbled through her purse and quickly produced a rumpled tissue that Sara
gladly accepted. She turned her back to compose herself in case Gabe should look
up and notice her tears.
“I know you’ll think I’m silly,” Sara told Betsy, “but it just crossed my mind
that someday Ben will be doing the same thing Gabe is doing now. Walking around
with his own son or daughter and telling them all of the things he remembered
during his first year of school in this very same room.”
Betsy reached out and touched Sara’s arm. “I don’t think that’s silly at all.
It’s a typical mother’s response. Our babies are growing up, and that’s not
always an easy thing to accept.”
“It’s more than that for me,” Sara said. “By the time I was in second grade, I’d
attended four different elementary schools. Thanks to Gabe, Ben will never know
that kind of instability.”
“Don’t you think you should give yourself some credit for Ben’s security, Sara?
I mean, as grand as Gabe Coulter is, the final decision to bring Ben to Redstone
was yours. If Ben has anyone to thank for growing up here, it’s you.”
Sara smiled. “How do you always know exactly what to say to make me feel
better?”
“If I’ve made you feel better, I’m glad. But we’ve become close enough friends
that I don’t intend to let you harbor some ridiculous idea that because you had
a rotten childhood you don’t have anything to offer your son. Security comes
from being loved. Not the ranch. Not the Coulter name. There isn’t any
substitute for a mother’s love, Sara.”
As if to confirm Betsy’s last statement, Ben called out from across the room,
“Hurry, Mom, come look at my desk. I wrote B-E-N right here on top all by
myself.”
“I’m coming.” Sara gave Betsy a quick hug before she hurried across the room
where Gabe and Ben were currently inspecting the small desk that did indeed have
B-E-N written in squiggly letters on a piece of construction paper taped to the
desktop.
“See, Mom. I can write my own name.”
Gabe slid his arm around her shoulder.
“Great job, Ben,” Sara said. “Your letters are perfect.”
Ben beamed with pride and hurried after Junior.
Gabe pulled her closer. “Am I mistaken? Or were you getting misty-eyed back
there?”
“Just a little,” Sara admitted.
It always amazed her at how attuned to her Gabe was, as she was to him.
Over the past few months they’d opened up to each other, filled in the blanks of
their lives, so different, yet surprisingly so similar. Both of them had been
hurt—her never having any family support, Gabe losing the family support he’d
always counted on.
She’d told Gabe how being disappointed time after time by a mother who couldn’t
stay out of trouble had made it difficult for her to trust anyone. And how being
passed from one family to another had made her reluctant to get attached to any
of the foster families, knowing her stay was only temporary.
She’d also told Gabe she’d gone to a maternity group home after her last foster
parents had thrown her out. That she’d been able to graduate high school through
a program the home offered. And that although adoption was strongly encouraged,
once she’d made it clear she had no intention of giving up her child, the
counselors at the home had helped her receive the government assistance she
needed until she could find a job and take care of herself and Ben.
Gabe had made his confessions, too.
He’d told her how devastated he’d been when his parents were killed. And he’d
told her that losing Billy was the type of pain he wasn’t sure he could survive
again. He also admitted he’d often blamed himself for Billy’s death—for not
insisting that Billy stay on the ranch, even though he knew no one could have
talked Billy out of following his rodeo-fame dreams.
Sara knew how hard it had been for Gabe to share any of those feelings with her.
He was kind and affectionate, but he wasn’t the type of man who easily confessed
what was on his mind and in his heart.
She’d mentioned that fact to Betsy once.
“Cowboys are a different breed, Sara,” Betsy had said. “Their actions speak
louder than their words. But you can always count on one thing. Gabe Coulter is
cowboy true to the bone.”
Cowboy true.
The expression described Gabe to a T.
Loyalty came first with Gabe.
Ironically, although Sara admired that trait, it was Gabe’s loyalty that often
fueled her own self-doubts. She didn’t want her relationship with Gabe based
strictly on that level of obligation. She wanted their relationship based on
love. And that’s why Sara found herself clinging to Betsy’s other statement that
actions speak louder than words.
Over the summer, Gabe had surprised her more than once by sneaking back to the
house for a secret lovemaking session. And there had been those long, moonlit
walks they’d taken after Ben and Smitty were sound asleep—more proof that what
Gabe felt for her went beyond loyalty.
The stolen moments they’d shared beneath the shadows of the big spruce pines
surrounding the ranch were some of Sara’s fondest memories. And there were other
precious memories she’d never forget. Sunday cookouts with the Grahams, Ben and
Junior laughing and running across the pasture, Bess, Bandit and Charcoal
yapping at their heels. And the horseback rides she’d taken with Ben and Gabe
over the ranch, riding the gentle mare Gabe had bought for her.
She’d even acquired a pair of jeans.
And, of course, there were times like tonight.
Having Gabe by her side at Ben’s kindergarten open house gave Sara a sense of
completeness no words could fully describe. It also reaffirmed her growing
belief that the three of them really could make it together as a family.
“Can we stop by Junior’s house for dessert before we go home, Mom?” Ben pleaded
as he ran up beside them.
As usual, Junior was following close behind.
“We’re having punkin pie and ice cream,” Junior announced proudly.
When Sara looked to Gabe for an answer, Gabe whispered in her ear, “That’s not
exactly the type of dessert I had in mind for tonight.”
Sara smacked Gabe on the arm.
“Well, can we, Mom?” Ben urged, tugging on the skirt of Sara’s dress to get her
attention again.
“Of course we can, sweetie,” Sara answered. “Go tell Betsy we’ll be happy to
stop by.”
“Traitor,” Gabe teased the minute the boys ran off to tell Betsy the good news.
“You shouldn’t be naughty in front of the children, Gabe.”
“Does that mean can I be naughty when the children aren’t around?”
Sara elbowed him this time.
They both sobered when Ben’s kindergarten teacher approached. Mrs. Grayson
offered a wrinkled smile and said, “I guess you’ve seen how creative Ben can be
with his Thanksgiving drawings.”
Gabe and Sara both laughed.
Gabe said, “If you mean the cowboy hats Ben put on his Pilgrims, then yes, we’ve
seen how creative he is.”
Sara smiled and said, “And don’t forget the Crested-C logo Ben put on the
Pilgrims’ white bibs.”
Mrs. Grayson looked directly at Gabe. “I remember another little Coulter boy who
had a fascination with the Crested-C logo when he was in my kindergarten class.
And if I remember correctly, that same little boy received a good paddling from
me for carving the logo on one of my desks with his pocketknife.”
Sara glanced at Gabe in time to see him blush.
“I’d really appreciate you not mentioning that story to Ben, Mrs. Grayson.”
“Oh, I bet you would, Gabriel Coulter,” the old woman said with a mischievous
smile.
She nodded politely to Sara then strolled away.
Sara looked at Gabe and said, “Don’t you find it funny that we were just talking
about you being naughty before Mrs. Grayson walked up and confirmed how naughty
you’ve always been?”
Gabe said, “What I find funny is that my kindergarten teacher rescued you from
trying to explain why you preferred punkin pie and ice cream to the type of
dessert I had in mind.”
Sara laughed and linked her arm through Gabe’s. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the
kind of dessert you have in mind soon enough.”
“Not soon enough for my liking,” Gabe complained.
Sara giggled and pulled him toward Ben and the Grahams, who were now waiting for
them by the classroom door.

GABE GLANCED in his rearview mirror. The excitement of the open house and too
much pie and ice cream had worn Ben out. He was fast asleep. When he glanced at
Sara sitting on the seat beside him, Gabe smiled.
Sara smiled back and reached for his hand.
Gabe knew without a doubt that he loved this woman and his nephew more than he
ever thought possible. Both Ben and Sara had brought new meaning into his life.
In fact, he was finally beginning to realize that he hadn’t had much of a life
before. What he’d had were l5,000 acres of land and a hundred different excuses
to isolate himself from the very things every human craved most: love and being
loved.
Yes, love was a risky business.
But Gabe was thankful he’d taken that risk. They’d bonded as a real family,
cementing relationships Gabe hoped would last a lifetime. And a lifetime with
Ben and Sara was all Gabe wanted. He’d never wanted anything more.
As they started up the steep incline to the ranch, it crossed Gabe’s mind that
neither he nor Sara had said a word since they left the Graham house. And that
was what total contentment meant in his book—being so comfortable with someone
you never had to say a word.
He squeezed Sara’s hand.
She squeezed back.
Only one thing bothered Gabe. Sara still hadn’t moved her things into his
bedroom. He suspected she was waiting until their six-month trial period was
officially over. He hadn’t pushed her to give up her own bedroom. He’d held
back, giving her time to make that decision on her own.
But it didn’t keep him from worrying.
Having his own family had shown him what the love of a good woman and a child
could bring into a man’s life. Gabe didn’t want to lose that.
And with that thought in mind, Gabe said, “I was only teasing earlier, you know.
As crazy as I am about that sexy body of yours you mean far more to me than just
nightly dessert.”
Sara sent him an impish grin. “What’s the problem, cowboy? Is that your way of
trying to back out of dessert tonight?”
“Oh, I’m ready for dessert,” Gabe said, sending her a sultry look. “You can
count on that.”
“Can I have more dessert, too, Mom?” a groggy voice called out from the
backseat.
Gabe and Sara both laughed.
But the meaningful look they exchanged said it all.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“IF I EAT another bite,” Gabe said, “I’ll never be able to get out of this
chair.”
Sara smiled when Gabe pushed himself back from the dining room table with a loud
groan. He’d accused her lately of trying to fatten him up. But as hard as Gabe
worked on the ranch, Sara knew it would take more than her Thanksgiving turkey
to put even a pound on his rock-hard frame.
The rest of the men gathered around the dining room table never took their eyes
from their plates.
“Not me,” Smitty said. “I could use one more piece of that pecan pie, missy.”
Sara gladly passed the pie in Smitty’s direction. Watching these men enjoy the
first Thanksgiving meal she’d prepared for her new family meant more to Sara
than any of them realized.
“And I want more chocolate-affair cake, Mom,” Ben announced, causing all seven
men to laugh.
“It’s chocolate éclair cake, Ben,” Sara corrected, but she didn’t miss the fixed
stare Gabe was sending her.
It constantly amazed her that something as innocent as a slip of the tongue had
the power to send shock waves vibrating through both of them. In fact, the
intensity of their passion almost scared Sara sometimes. When their eyes locked
again, Sara thought she could actually feel the heat pass between them.
But their silent communication also reminded her she was running out of excuses
about moving into Gabe’s bedroom permanently.
Ben and Smitty had long since gotten used to them as a couple. She and Gabe were
openly affectionate with each other in front of both of them. Still, something
held her back. And try as she may, Sara couldn’t put a finger on it.
“What’s really wrong, Sara?” Gabe had asked her point-blank when she’d moved to
go to her own bedroom last night.
She hadn’t missed the hurt in his eyes. And she knew he hadn’t liked her answer
when she told him she wasn’t sure, only that she needed more time. He’d agreed,
but she was well aware that Gabe’s patience was beginning to wearing thin.
She chewed absently at her bottom lip as she passed another pie to one of the
ranch hands.
At first she’d told herself she was only holding back because their six months
weren’t officially over. But this was the end of November, and as Gabe had
reminded her last night, there were only a few days left until the six-month
deadline lapsed.
Maybe after Christmas she would finally let herself believe she and Gabe had a
real marriage and would stay together forever. Maybe putting an end to this year
and starting a brand-new one would make her feel better about moving her things
into his bedroom on a permanent basis.
Maybe then she’d feel as if she really belonged.
“No, it was Sara’s marble pound cake, not the chocolate éclair cake, that won
her first prize at the county fair,” Smitty argued, snapping Sara back to the
conversation going on around the table.
“I like her sticky buns best,” one of the hands said.
Sticky buns.
Sara looked up. Gabe had one eyebrow arched.
“Maybe Sara should open her own bakery,” Slim mentioned, sending Sara a shy
look. “Redstone’s never had a bakery before.”
Sara laughed. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Slim, but like everyone
else around here, I’m too busy to take on an outside job.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Smitty agreed. He turned to Gabe and said, “Speaking of
being busy, do you still want me to deliver those two horses to Denver
tomorrow?”
Gabe nodded. “And I’ll need you to pick up a few pieces of equipment I’ve
ordered, too. Take the flatbed truck to pull the horse trailer. And take someone
with you to help load the equipment.”
“Guess that means we’ll be staying overnight, then,” Smitty said. “You know I
don’t like driving these roads after dark once the snow starts.”
“Ben and I are going to be gone tomorrow, too,” Sara reminded Gabe. “I told
Betsy I’d drive to Grand Junction.”
“Yeah, Uncle Gabe,” Ben said. “Santa’s coming to the mall to see me and Junior.
And Junior’s gonna pull his beard to see if it’s fake.”
Everyone at the table laughed.
A few minutes passed before Gabe looked at Sara and said, “Maybe you and Betsy
should think about spending the night in Grand Junction and starting back on
Saturday, too. Smitty’s right. It isn’t safe driving these roads with so much
snow on the ground.”
Sara’s heart instantly went out to Gabe. She knew exactly what he was thinking.
“I’ll call Betsy as soon as I clear the table,” Sara promised. “I’m sure she’d
love to spend the night in Grand Junction. That will give us more time to do our
Christmas shopping.”
“Wow!” Ben chimed in. “Do me and Junior get our own room, Mom?”
“Junior and I,” Sara corrected. “And no. We can all stay in one room together.”
“Cool,” Ben said. “Motels are fun.”
Sara looked back at Gabe.
Motel had turned up the heat one more notch.

THE MORNING AFTER Thanksgiving Sara sent a wary look toward the black Suburban
parked in front of Jones Country Store where she needed to stop for gas. The
menacing Miss Kincaid, however, didn’t appear to be anywhere in sight.
They’d crossed each other’s paths several times since Founder’s Day, but, other
than a few mean looks, Ronnie had kept her distance. Still, Sara suspected that
a face-to-face showdown between them was inevitable at some point.
Gabe had, after all, chosen her. No woman took that kind of rejection lightly.
“Maybe we should get gas farther down the road,” Betsy said, following Sara’s
gaze to the Suburban.
“No,” Sara said, pulling the Cherokee up to the pumps. “I don’t intend to spend
the rest of my life trying to avoid her. If she still has a problem with Gabe’s
decision to marry me, it’s her problem, not mine.”
“You go, girl,” Betsy said, but she nodded toward the backseat. “Still, I think
the boys and I should wait in the Jeep. Just to be on the safe side.”
“Not a bad idea,” Sara agreed, glancing in the backseat. To her relief, Ben and
Junior both seemed to be unaware of anything except the two Game Boys that had
their full attention.
Sara pumped her gas without incident.
When she headed into the store to pay, Hank Jones looked up from the newspaper
he had spread on the counter and greeted her with a wide smile. “I heard you and
Betsy were going to Grand Junction for a little Christmas shopping,” the old man
said when Sara stopped in front of the counter. “And it’s a good thing you’re
getting an early start.” He looked down at his watch. “You’ll be in Grand
Junction by the time the mall opens and before the crowds get heavy.”
It amazed Sara at how even the most trivial information seemed to be big news in
Redstone.
“I wouldn’t have even considered going to the mall the day after Thanksgiving if
Santa wasn’t making his big appearance. But the boys wore us down.”
“Good thing you’ve decided to stay over tonight, too,” Hank said. Sara sent him
a surprised look so he added, “Smitty was in here earlier. Said Gabe told you to
come back tomorrow. After what happened to Luke and Mary, Gabe has good reason
to worry about you and the boy driving up that road with so much snow on the
ground.”
Sara forced a smile, but she made a mental note to speak to Smitty about being
more discreet with the personal details of their lives. Though Sara doubted it
would do any good. She accepted her change with a quick nod and hurried for the
door before the man had an opportunity to pry even further.
“You be careful, now,” Hank called out after her. “And watch out for those crazy
drivers in Grand Junction. They’ll run you right off the road if you let them.”
“Thanks for the warning. And tell Marge I said Happy Holidays.”
The second Sara slid behind the wheel of the Cherokee, Betsy said, “Well?”
Sara shook her head. “No problem. Hank was the only one in the store.”
After they pulled away, Betsy said, “I was just thinking. If you’re getting
brave enough to take Ronnie on, it must mean things are going pretty well with
you and Gabe.”
“Please don’t jinx me, Betsy. I’m so happy sometimes I pinch myself to make sure
I’m not dreaming.”
Betsy raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
“No. I haven’t moved my things yet.”
“But Sara, that’s just plain silly,” Betsy said. “What’s the problem?”
“I swear, Betsy, I don’t know.”
“Well, if limiting your husband to a quickie every night doesn’t suck the
romance right out of a relationship, I don’t know what will.”
Sara sent a nervous look in her rearview mirror.
The games still had the boys’ full attention.
“I know I’m pushing Gabe to the limit, Betsy. And I know he isn’t happy about
it. But—”
“You know what your problem is?” As usual, Betsy answered her own question. “You
and Gabe have never had the luxury of being completely alone with no one else to
worry about. You said yourself you always have one ear open listening for either
Ben or Smitty.”
“True,” Sara agreed. If it wasn’t Ben needing one more glass of water, it was
Smitty banging around in the kitchen late at night for some warm milk for his
insomnia.
“And that’s what you and Gabe need. One night alone together. No interruptions.”
“And you know that isn’t possible.”
“But didn’t you say Smitty was spending the night in Denver tonight?”
“Yes,” Sara said, “and we’re spending the night in Grand Junction, remember?”
Betsy grinned. “How are you at power shopping?”
“Excuse me?”
“I say we take the boys to see Santa. We power shop our heads off. Then we head
right back to Redstone. You can’t miss this opportunity, Sara. Who knows how
long it will be before Smitty is out of town again.”
“And what about Ben?”
Betsy turned in her seat. “Hey, guys,” she said. “Instead of staying in Grand
Junction tonight, how would you like it if we come back home after you see Santa
and Ben stays with us for a sleepover?”
“Wow. Can I, Mom?” Ben asked. “I’ve never been to a sleepover before.”
“Please, Miss Sara,” Junior chimed in.
Sara looked over at Betsy. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”
“Oh, pooh,” Betsy said. “I insist.”
The boys gave each other a high-five.
Betsy leaned toward Sara and whispered, “By the time Ben and Smitty get home
tomorrow, I guarantee you and Gabe will be sharing the same closet.”
Sara blushed.
“Speed up, girlfriend. We’ve got to get you back to the Crested-C in time to
give Gabe an early Christmas present.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SARA CHECKED the oven one last time and glanced at her watch. She had thirty
minutes to make herself presentable before Gabe and the boys returned from the
northern border of the ranch. She knew they’d intended to spend the day checking
for damage the heavy snowfall might have done to the fences.
By dusk, they’d be back.
Thankfully, everything was ready and waiting for Gabe to arrive. Her crown
roast—Gabe’s favorite—was almost done. The champagne was chilling. And since she
had already intended to stay in Grand Junction overnight, she’d loaded down the
bunkhouse refrigerator the night before with enough Thanksgiving leftovers to
last a full week.
That meant the ranch hands would all go straight to the bunkhouse when they
returned. And Gabe would find more than a cold turkey sandwich waiting for him
when he walked through the door.
Sara smiled, thinking how surprised Gabe would be. She’d even thought to park
the Cherokee at the back of the house so Gabe wouldn’t see it from the barn.
He’d come through the door thinking he was entering an empty house. And what
he’d find instead was her, dressed in the skimpy little black dress she’d bought
in Grand Junction.
Walking into the dining room, Sara checked the table one last time, pleased with
her candlelit dinner-for-two preparations. She reached out and rearranged the
bottle of champagne, then ran her fingers over the delicate roses etched into
the ornate silver ice bucket that had belonged to Gabe’s mother.
“Roses were Mary’s favorite,” Smitty had told her once, making Sara think of the
framed wedding portrait of Luke and Mary in Gabe’s office. Before she headed
upstairs, Sara went to look at their picture.
How young and full of hope they both seemed. Luke tall and proud. Mary beaming
from the knowledge that the man she married had stood before God and everyone
else and pledged his life to her alone.
According to Smitty, the whole town had attended the ceremony. He’d told Sara
about the wedding during one of the chats that had become their morning routine
when he came in for his grocery list.
“Biggest wedding ever to hit Redstone,” he’d said. “Luke and Mary were married
out on the front lawn.” He’d reminisced about how Mary had ridden up the long
driveway in a horse-drawn carriage decorated with pink and white roses.
“Everyone said Mary was the most beautiful bride they ever saw. And that’s a
fact.”
Stepping closer to the portrait, Sara couldn’t help but admire the
Victorian-style wedding dress Mary had made herself. The dress was carefully
stored in a cedar chest in Sara’s room. She would have loved to have worn that
dress the day she married Gabe.
But there was no point in idle wishes.
Nor did it serve any purpose dreaming of things that weren’t meant to be. Better
instead to focus on what she could have—an intimate dinner alone with the man
she loved completely, followed by an entire night of blissful and totally
uninterrupted lovemaking.
Untying her apron, Sara walked out of Gabe’s office and right into her worst
enemy.
“What are you doing here?”
Ronnie’s mocking smile was lethal. “I was about to ask you the same thing. I
thought you were staying in Grand Junction tonight.”
Panic seized Sara for a moment.
But reason calmed her back down. “Are you implying Gabe invited you here?”
“Are you stupid enough to believe that he didn’t?”
It was on the tip of Sara’s tongue to tell Ronnie to leave. To get out of her
house and never come back. She tried, but Sara couldn’t spit the words out. And
the longer she stared at Ronnie, the more clear it became why she couldn’t. This
wasn’t her house. It was Gabe’s house. And it would never be her house as long
as she settled for being Gabe’s afterthought wife.
“I am stupid enough to believe Gabe didn’t invite you here, Ronnie. I just
didn’t realize how stupid I’ve been about everything else.”
Sara took a step forward.
Ronnie took two steps back.
“If you’re smart you’ll leave before Gabe gets home,” Sara told her. She shoved
her apron into Ronnie’s midsection, pushed past Ronnie and headed for the
kitchen.
“And if you’re smart you’ll stay gone!” Ronnie yelled.
Sara never looked back.
She grabbed her coat and purse from the coatrack. She lifted the keys to the
Cherokee from the rack. She slammed the kitchen door behind her. But she didn’t
let herself cry until she reached the gateposts marking the entrance to the
Crested-C Ranch.
Turning off the ignition, Sara sat there for almost thirty minutes, tears
streaming down her cheeks. She knew what she had to do. And she knew the big
risk she’d be taking if she found the courage to do it. How am I ever going to
explain to Ben if we have to leave?
Before her heart betrayed her, Sara turned the ignition, then drove decidedly
through the gates of the Crested-C Ranch.