Candy Halliday - [Cowboy Country] - A Ranch Called Home p.03

SIX MONTHS EARLIER Ronnie would have been thrilled that Sara stormed off the
Crested-C because of her. But now, Ronnie found Sara’s leaving a hollow victory
at best.
And that’s what she got for listening to town gossip.
And for letting her pride get the better of her.
Damn Hank Jones! Ronnie fumed.
The old fart had purposely needled her in front of a store full of customers.
Throwing it in her face that Gabe was so in love with his new wife he’d told her
to stay in Grand Junction rather than risk her driving icy roads at night. Yet,
as Ronnie walked into the dining room, she couldn’t for the life of her
understand why Hank’s teasing had made her so angry earlier.
She hadn’t even thought about Gabe in months.
She’d been too busy.
Busy with her own life—and with Charlie.
Thinking about Charlie struck a chord of fear deep inside Ronnie’s soul. What if
he didn’t believe that she never would have shown up if she’d known Sara was
home? Or that the only reason she’d even stopped by the Crested-C was to rattle
Gabe’s chain a little—to pay him back for…
Ronnie swallowed.
Pay him back for what? would be Charlie’s first question. Funny, but she didn’t
even have an answer. Not anymore. Not after months of lying in Charlie’s arms
every night and experiencing for the first time what it truly meant to be loved
by a man.
She’d acted on a stupid whim.
And now she was in deep shit.
With Gabe. But more importantly, with Charlie.
Ronnie grabbed the champagne bottle from the ice bucket. She didn’t even flinch
when the cork made a loud pop. She reached for a glass from the table and filled
it all the way to the brim. But she couldn’t keep her hand from shaking slightly
as she brought the glass to her suddenly parched lips.
In typical hell-bent fashion, she’d screwed up. Only this time, she had
everything to lose.
All because of blind ambition that made no sense whatsoever when she thought
about it. Merging their two ranches had been a ridiculous idea from the start.
Gabe would never leave the Crested-C any more than she would move off her land.
The Flying-K meant everything to her. It was where she was born and the Flying-K
was where she intended to die.
Gabe had never been the right man for her.
She needed a drifter like Charlie.
A man with no ties to pull him anywhere else.
Pouring another glass of champagne, Ronnie took a long sip as she carefully
weighed her options. She could stay and apologize—definitely not her strong
point. Or she could leave before Gabe got home and tell Charlie Sara simply got
the wrong idea when she stopped by.
So? Why in the hell did you stop by? would be Charlie’s next question. And that
brought her right back to where she started. There simply wasn’t any excuse that
would ever be good enough to justify what she’d done.
Ronnie poured her third glass of champagne.
She might as well get drunk.
Drunk was the only state in which she could even imagine apologizing to Gabe.

“LOOKS LIKE you’ve got company, boss,” Slim said as they topped the ridge
overlooking the house.
Gabe swore at the sight of the black Suburban. He nudged his spurs into
Bruiser’s sides, forcing the big steed into a full gallop. A few minutes later
he pulled Bruiser to a stop with a quick jerk of the reins, Slim on his horse
right beside them. Gabe hopped off Bruiser, tossed Slim the reins and headed for
the kitchen door.
He’d allowed himself to believe Ronnie had given up on her threat to cause him
trouble. But now Gabe cursed himself for being that dense. If Sara found out
Ronnie had shown up on their doorstep…
Gabe stormed into the kitchen and wasted no time yelling Ronnie’s name.
“In here.”
He found her sitting at his dining room table, pouring champagne into one of his
mother’s long-stemmed crystal glasses. She smiled and held her glass up in a
toast.
“What in the hell are you doing here?”
Her smile instantly evaporated.
Gabe glanced around the dining room for the first time. The elaborately set
table had Sara’s name written all over it. Two place settings. The candles. The
champagne Ronnie was drinking.
He took a threatening step in her direction. “What have you done, Ronnie? Tell
me now.”
“I haven’t done anything,” she said, standing to face him. But the fear in her
eyes called her a liar.
“Where’s Sara?” Gabe demanded. “Answer me, dammit!”
“To hell with Sara!”
She tossed her champagne in Gabe’s face, then threw her glass against the wall.
“Can I help it if that silly bitch you married got the wrong impression?” she
yelled. “I only came by to ask you a favor. She’s the one who stormed out of
here, mumbling something about being stupid.”
Gabe lost it.
He grabbed Ronnie by the arm so fast she stumbled, losing her balance. He pulled
her to her feet, then dragged Ronnie across the dining room and into the
kitchen. When they reached the door, Gabe opened the door and pushed Ronnie
through it.
“If you ever come near Sara again,” Gabe warned, “I won’t be responsible for
what I do. And that isn’t a threat, Ronnie. That’s a promise.”
“You go straight to hell, Gabe Coulter. Do you hear me? Straight to hell.”
Gabe slammed the door in her face.
He’d never been so angry.
Gabe also had the sickening feeling Ronnie wouldn’t be the only female giving
him those same directions before the night was over.

“YES, SARA’S HERE, Gabe,” Betsy said into the phone. “But maybe it would be
better if you wait and come over tomorrow.” She sent an apologetic look in
Sara’s direction. “I’m sorry, Sara. He hung up on me. I’m sure that means Gabe
is on his way over here now.”
“It’s okay, Betsy,” Sara said with a sigh. “The sooner we get things settled,
the better it will be for all of us.”
Betsy shook her head sadly. “You’re really scaring me. You’re much too calm
about this whole thing. I can’t imagine how I’d be reacting if Ronnie showed up
at my house when she thought I wasn’t home.”
Sara didn’t answer. But she was relieved her demeanor was calm and collected on
the outside. She’d had a lifetime of hiding her true feelings. She was a master
at it. And she needed to appear in control when Gabe arrived.
How funny that a visit from Ronnie Kincaid had finally opened Sara’s eyes. Her
only hope now was that Gabe would listen to what she had to say and understand
why she’d left the ranch instead of asking Ronnie to leave.
“I’ll go up and check on the boys and give you and Gabe some privacy,” Betsy
said when the sound of a vehicle in the Grahams’ driveway snapped Sara from her
thoughts.
Sara thanked her then headed for the door. She opened it the minute Gabe stepped
foot on the porch.
“Are you okay?” Gabe asked.
Sara nodded.
He reached out and pulled her to him in a full embrace. She refused to sink into
him, to let his strength soothe her. Eventually he released her.
“We need to talk.”
He let out a long sigh, but he followed her into the living room. Sara took a
seat on the sofa, while Gabe remained standing.
He raked a hand through his hair, looking at her with a worried expression on
his face. “I can only guess what happened before I got home,” he said. “But you
have to believe me, Sara. I didn’t invite Ronnie to the ranch tonight.”
“Give me a little credit, Gabe,” Sara told him. “I know you didn’t invite
Ronnie. I know you wouldn’t do that.”
He sat beside her, obviously puzzled. “Then I don’t understand. If you knew I
didn’t invite her, why didn’t you tell Ronnie to leave?”
Sara prayed he would understand. “I didn’t have the right to ask her to leave.”
Gabe frowned. “Of course you did. It’s your house.”
Sara shook her head. “No, Gabe. The house belongs to you and Ben. Just like the
ranch belongs to you and Ben. Gabe Coulter and Ben Coulter, the two owners of
the Crested-C.”
He looked even more confused.
And Sara couldn’t blame him.
She knew she was rambling. She kept grasping for the right words to explain. But
sitting this close to Gabe was distracting. She stood and walked away. And when
she turned around, Sara crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly as she
gathered the courage to say everything she needed to say.
“You know I’ve been holding back, Gabe. But I honestly didn’t know why I
wouldn’t move into your bedroom permanently until Ronnie walked through the door
tonight. The minute I couldn’t ask her to leave, I knew. As much as I’ve tried
to convince myself it doesn’t matter how we got together, it does. I don’t want
to spend the rest of my life wondering if you truly love me, or if you just
settled for loving me because it was best for Ben.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “What am I supposed to say to that, Sara? I can’t
change how we got together. And neither can you.”
“Say we can start over,” Sara told him.
Hope flashed across his face.
Then Sara said, “Have the marriage annulled like you promised.”
The hope was replaced by anger. But Sara knew she couldn’t back down now.
“And that’s your idea of starting over?” he mocked. “By putting an end to our
marriage?”
“Our fake marriage, Gabe,” Sara reminded him. “I want the real thing. And if you
decide to ask me to marry you again, I want you to ask me for one reason and one
reason only. Because you love me. Not to fulfill your obligation to Ben.”
He kept staring at her as if she were crazy. She clenched her fists to stop
their trembling.
“I’d never take Ben away from Redstone, Gabe,” Sara said softly. “I wouldn’t do
that to Ben or to you. But I think Ben and I should move into town and give you
some time to think things over and decide what you really want.”
He frowned. “I already know what I want. Do you?”
Sara nodded. “I told you. I want to start over.”
“Are you kidding me? You go your way? I’ll go mine? And if we happen to meet up
again along the way, you’ll be satisfied we were meant to be together?” His
laugh was bitter. “Why don’t you just come out and say what you really mean,
Sara? You’re not sure you love me.”
“That isn’t true,” Sara protested. “I do love you. I love you with all my heart.
But I want it all, Gabe. I want to be wooed first, like any other woman. And
when you propose, I want you to do it because you can’t live without me. I want
a real wedding, not a fake one. I want to wear your mother’s wedding dress. I
want to ride up the driveway to the Crested-C in a horse-drawn carriage filled
with roses. And I want the whole town standing on the front lawn when you tell
the world I’m the one you want for the rest of your life.”
When he kept staring at her, Sara said, “I’m sorry. I want to be wanted for me,
for who I am. I want a real marriage. Not a marriage of convenience.”
“A marriage of convenience?” He laughed again. “Don’t you have that backward? If
anything, this has been a marriage of inconvenience for both of us. I wasn’t
ready for a wife. And you weren’t looking for a husband. But somehow through all
the insanity we still managed to fall in love. And if that isn’t good enough for
you, Sara, then I’m the one who’s sorry.”
He stood, and the look on his face said she’d hurt him deeply.
“I’ve tried to prove I love you every way I know how. But if you expect me to
jump through hoops like some trained poodle, you’ve picked yourself the wrong
damn cowboy.”
“Obviously, I have,” Sara snipped. She couldn’t help it, she didn’t like his
tone. And she sure didn’t care for his superior attitude.
“So?” he said. “Where does that leave us?”
He kept staring at her.
Sara kept holding his gaze.
“If you aren’t willing to start over,” Sara said, “I guess that leaves me no
choice but to move to Redstone.”
“Dammit! I didn’t say I wasn’t willing to start over.”
“As long as we start over on your non-poodle terms, you mean?”
“Now you’re twisting my words around,” he accused.
“Is it really too much to ask, Gabe? Can you really not understand why the
relationship we have now isn’t going to work for me long-term?”
“Stop beating around the bush, Sara. Is it over between us, or isn’t it?”
Sara wasn’t ready to give up. “We started out trying to do what was best for
Ben, Gabe. All I want is to do what’s best for us now.”
“What’s best for all of us is for you to go upstairs and get Ben and come home
with me,” Gabe shouted.
Lord, that was the one thing she couldn’t do.
“No,” she said. “I’ve told you how I feel. If you can’t understand that, then
Ben and I will move.”
She’d never seen him so angry.
Not even at the Founder’s Day kissing booth.
“Then you do what you have to do, Sara,” he said, his jaw set and rigid. “And
I’ll start the divorce proceedings. But it isn’t fair to spoil Ben’s Christmas.
At least stay at the ranch until Christmas is over.”
It isn’t fair to spoil Ben’s Christmas.
His words hit Sara with the force of a tidal wave.
She’d gambled that Gabe loved her—and she’d lost.
It had been all about Ben in the beginning.
It was still all about Ben now.
She was standing here, pouring her heart out, and begging him to save their
relationship. And all Gabe cared about was not spoiling Ben’s Christmas.
But damn if she’d let him see how much he’d hurt her.
“You’re right,” Sara said, her voice so calm she scared herself. “It isn’t fair
to spoil Ben’s Christmas. We’ll stay at the ranch until after Christmas. That
should give me enough time to find a place in town.”
Gabe walked out of the Grahams’ living room.
He never looked back.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE SHORT DRIVE from the Grahams’ house back to the Crested-C was only five
miles. But it was the longest trip Gabe had ever made. He arrived home to an
empty house, except for the smoke-filled kitchen that greeted him the minute
Gabe opened the back door. Gabe waved away the heavy smoke, grabbed an oven mitt
from the counter and managed to pull Sara’s surprise dinner from the oven.
He threw the burned pan out into the yard.
The same way Sara had thrown away their future.
Holding the kitchen door open wide, Gabe let the smoke clear for a good ten
minutes. The frigid Colorado night air didn’t even faze him. Sara’s words had
already left him too numb inside to feel a damn thing.
What a fool he’d been. He’d opened his heart again. And love had brought him
right back to his knees.
But he’d never make that mistake again.
Finally closing the door, Gabe turned off the oven and started in the direction
of the back stairs. He stopped when he remembered the dining room and the
intimate dinner he and Sara should have shared.
The thought should have saddened him.
Instead, it only made Gabe mad as hell.
He spent the next hour in a full-blown fury removing all signs of the private
party that would have been a magical night for both of them. And only after
everything had been disposed of and put away did Gabe feel that some semblance
of order had been restored to his life. He switched off the light the same way
he intended to switch off his feelings. He only wished he could dispose of other
reminders of Sara as easily.
But the next few weeks were going to be pure hell.
And Gabe knew it.
He’d put on a good front for Ben’s sake. But if Sara had any sense, she’d stay
out of his way. He’d handed her his love, his heart and everything else he owned
on a goddamn silver platter. And tonight she’d thrown it all in his face with
the flimsy excuse about wanting it all.
Well, he had news for Sara.
He’d given all he had to give her.
And if that wasn’t enough, to hell with her.
He was going get a good night’s sleep. And he was going to be out on the open
range where he belonged when Sara came back to the ranch tomorrow.
In his bedroom Gabe jerked off his shirt and his thermal undershirt and threw
them to the floor. He kicked off his boots, and he pulled off his jeans. But
instead of sleeping nude, waiting for Sara to come warm his bed for a few hours,
Gabe told himself with certainty that having nothing but his thermal underwear
bottoms to keep him warm in the winter would suit him fine.
Hours later as he tossed and turned in bed, however, more serious thoughts began
running through his mind. Like maybe it would be better if Sara did move on. Let
her find a man willing to ask How high? the minute she said Jump. That wasn’t
the kind of marriage he wanted. Marriage was a fifty-fifty deal, dammit. And by
God, he’d done his part.
Sara was the one who wouldn’t commit.
Rolling over on his side, Gabe punched his fist deep into his pillow, more
convinced than ever that he was right and Sara was wrong and that any man
willing to go along with her ridiculous demands was a damn idiot. Ben certainly
didn’t deserve such a roller-coaster ride—married…not married…married again.
Bullshit. That’s what it was.
The whole point in bringing them to Colorado had been to provide some stability
in their lives. He thought he’d done that—until tonight.
Gabe rolled onto his back again, staring at the ceiling. Of course, now that he
and Sara wouldn’t be trying to juggle a romance, at least Ben would be their
main focus again. So maybe all hadn’t been lost. Ben would still have his
mother’s love and support. And Gabe would still be here to give Ben the
direction any young boy needed.
They’d just do it separately.
“I’m fine with this,” Gabe told his empty room.
Liar! the four walls yelled back.

SARA PURPOSELY WAITED until she was sure Gabe had left the ranch before she
headed to the Crested-C the following morning. And thanks to Betsy’s generous
offer, Ben had stayed behind to play with Junior. Betsy would drop Ben off
later, giving Sara a little more time to regroup and pull herself together.
She drove up the driveway with a heavy heart. She spied Bandit hovering near the
back porch, his head bent over a scorched baking pan lying in the yard.
“My crown roast!” Sara groaned.
In all the confusion, she’d forgotten the oven.
Rattled at the thought of how easily she could have burned down the whole house,
Sara jumped out of the Jeep and shooed Bandit away from his findings. She
hurried into the house with the seared pan under her arm, relieved to see that
other than the stench of stale smoke, everything in the kitchen seemed intact.
She stopped dead still, however, when a trip to the dining room found no remains
of her preparations. In an instant, Sara knew it was Gabe’s way of telling her
he’d wiped the slate clean. He wanted no reminders of what might have been. No
telltale signs that the previous night could have been special. His actions had
made everything crystal clear. Gabe wasn’t willing to give her anything more
than he already had.
Sara took a deep breath, then turned her back on the dining room.
The same way Gabe had turned his back on her.
She had just placed the scorched pan into a sink of suds and hot water, when the
back door opened and Smitty hobbled in. His grunt matched the sour look on his
face.
“Dang-blast it!” he barked in Sara’s direction. “I leave this ranch for one
stinking day, and the whole damn place goes to hell in a handbasket. What’s all
this nonsense about you and Ben moving to town after Christmas?”
Sara shot Smitty a warning look. “Don’t start with me, Smitty. If you know Ben
and I are moving to Redstone after Christmas, then I’m sure Gabe filled you in
on the rest of the story.”
The old man snorted. “Yeah, Gabe told me his side. Now I’m ready to hear yours.”
Sara let out a long sigh as she looked at the old man she had grown to love
despite his irritating personality. Sara motioned for him to take a seat at the
table then started making coffee. Once she had the brew perking, Sara sat beside
him.
“I’m sure my version isn’t any different from the one you’ve already heard from
Gabe.”
Smitty frowned. “And you’re really willing to let some loony tune like Ronnie
Kincaid tear your family apart?”
“This isn’t about Ronnie,” Sara said. “Gabe and I have both been fooling
ourselves. We started out trying to do what was best for Ben, and somehow got
caught up in the silly notion that our marriage could turn into the real thing.”
“You mean the two of you won’t let your marriage turn into the real thing,”
Smitty argued.
Sara shook her head in protest. “No, I mean exactly what I said. Gabe and I were
doomed from the beginning. I think it will be best if Ben and I find our own
place to live.”
“And I think you and Gabe both deserve a hard kick in the backside for letting
your own stubbornness destroy this family,” Smitty declared.
“And did you inform Gabe of that fact?”
“You bet I did.”
“And Gabe’s response?” Sara asked hopefully.
“What do you think?” Smitty grumbled. “Gabe told me to mind my own business.”
Sara covered his wrinkled hand with hers. “Then I guess there’s no reason for me
to repeat that suggestion, is there?”
“No,” the old man mumbled. “But when it comes to Ben, I intend to make this my
business.” He sent Sara a pleading look. “Don’t you have any idea how much I
love that little boy of yours?”
Sara sniffed. “Of course I know how much you love Ben. Just as I know how much
Ben loves you and Gabe. And that’s why I’d never leave Redstone. Ben needs all
of us. There simply isn’t any way I can continue living this charade.”
“It seemed to be working pretty well, if you ask me.”
“Only on the surface, Smitty,” Sara said. She rose, filled two cups with coffee,
then returned to her seat. “I want what Luke and Mary had,” Sara told him. “And
if Gabe can’t feel that way about me, I need to move on. For his sake and for
mine.”
A few moments of silence passed between them.
Smitty sent her a disheartened look. “So? Have you given any thought about how
you’re going to support yourself?”
Was Smitty kidding?
She’d spent her entire life thinking about how she was going to support herself.
She’d always been a backup-plan kind of person out of sheer necessity. Just as
she’d always known in the back of her mind playing the role of Gabe’s wife
wouldn’t last forever.
Still, how tragic.
It hurt to admit she’d been right all along.
“Well,” Sara said, “Betsy mentioned the old Blake house in town was empty. And
that the last people who lived there ran a small restaurant in the lower level.”
Smitty snorted. “Yeah, and that’s why those people aren’t there now. Redstone
already has two restaurants. Even with the tourist overflow we get from the ski
resorts, Redstone isn’t big enough to support three full-time restaurants.”
“But Redstone doesn’t have a bakery.”
Smitty looked at her for a moment, then he grinned. “No, Redstone doesn’t have a
bakery. And that’s a fact.”
“Does that mean you think a bakery might have a chance of making it in
Redstone?”
“The way you bake? I wouldn’t be surprised if people came all the way from Aspen
for one of your apple turnovers.”
Sara laughed. “No one would drive sixty miles for an apple turnover.”
“Sure they would,” Smitty said, “if they were fresh from the oven.”
“Fresh from the oven,” Sara repeated slowly.
She leaned over and kissed the old man on the cheek.
Smitty blushed scarlet. “Now why’d you go and do that?”
“For naming my new bakery,” Sara told him.
They talked a little longer, with Smitty promising to check around and find out
what he could about the Blake house. After he left, Sara took their coffee cups
to the sink and dropped them into the soapy water.
Once again, she was starting over.
But as frightening as that thought was, in her heart Sara knew she had no other
choice. She had to take the first step toward healing the type of self-doubts
that had never allowed her to believe she was worthy of love or happiness. She
had to learn to believe in herself—to reach out and embrace happiness knowing
she deserved it. Only then would she ever be able to give her love to Gabe or
anyone else completely.
It was time to make her own place in Redstone.
No more just passing through.
No more being the outsider.
All of it—or nothing.
That was Sara’s new motto.

GABE REMOVED Bruiser’s saddle, but he spent more time than usual grooming the
big steed. He’d been in a somber mood all day, dying a little inside one minute
at the thought of Sara and Ben leaving the ranch, and consoling himself the next
minute with the knowledge that things could have been worse.
Sara could have gone back to Texas.
At least he could still be a part of their lives.
He spent a little more time than needed straightening up the tack room before he
reluctantly headed for the house. He wasn’t looking forward to putting on a
brave face for Ben. And he definitely wasn’t looking forward to seeing Sara for
the first time since their big fight. But if she expected him to walk through
the door with a hangdog expression, trying to make her feel sorry for him, she
was wrong. He’d told her at the beginning he’d annul the marriage if she wanted
out.
A man was only as good as his word.
And his word had never been half-assed.
The minute Gabe opened the kitchen door, Ben bounded out of nowhere and jumped
straight into his arms. “Me and Junior saw Santa, Uncle Gabe, and I made sure
Santa knew how to find me here at the ranch.”
Gabe gave his nephew a big hug. He looked over the top of Ben’s head and forced
a smile in Sara’s direction. “It sure smells good in here.”
A look of relief washed across her face.
Sara had obviously been dreading this moment as much as he had. She mouthed
Thank you, before saying, “Supper should be on the table in about twenty
minutes. You boys have plenty of time to wash up first.”
She turned back to the simmering pots on the stove.
Gabe lowered Ben to the floor. “Ready, partner? You can tell me all about Santa
while we wash up.”
“Junior didn’t pull Santa’s beard,” Ben said as he vaulted up the stairs ahead
of Gabe. “He was too scared he wouldn’t get any presents.”
Gabe laughed and followed Ben to the upstairs bathroom. Their time together in
the evenings while they washed up for supper had become a nightly ritual.
Once inside the bathroom, Ben dragged the small stool Smitty had made for him
out of the linen closet. He propped himself against the sink while Gabe opened
the medicine cabinet and took out his shaving gear.
“Will you and Smitty be moving to town with me and Mom after Christmas, Uncle
Gabe?”
An innocent question, but it hit Gabe like a hammer.
“Mom says the road to the ranch gets real retcherous in January, and a big boy
like me needs to be in town so I won’t miss any school.”
So that had been Sara’s explanation. She sure hadn’t wasted any time telling
Ben.
But Gabe knew Sara was only giving Ben plenty of time to adjust. It would make
it much easier on Ben when it came time for them to leave.
Gabe squirted a small dab of his shaving cream into Ben’s outstretched hand
before he said, “Your mother’s right. The road to the ranch can be treacherous
during January. And big boys like you can’t afford to miss any school. But
Smitty needs to stay here at the ranch and take care of the livestock. And so do
I.”
Ben patted his baby cheeks with the white foam before he sent Gabe a concerned
look. “You won’t give my room to anyone else while I’m gone, will you, Uncle
Gabe?”
Another innocent question—straight to the gut.
“No way,” Gabe said. “That room belonged to your daddy, and now it belongs to
you and no one else.”
Gabe picked up his razor and raked it down his cheek.
“But what about Bandit? Can Bandit live with me in town? Or will he have to stay
here at the ranch?”
Gabe rinsed off his razor before he said, “Well, I’m not sure Bandit would enjoy
being away from the ranch, Ben. But that doesn’t mean he can’t go to town for a
visit now and then.”
“And will you come to town for a visit now and then, Uncle Gabe?” Ben pressed.
The questions were killing him.
“Sure. And on weekends when there isn’t any school, I don’t see why you can’t
come here.”
Ben’s eyes widened. “For a sleepover? Just like at Junior’s?”
Gabe reached out and ruffled his nephew’s hair. “Just like at Junior’s.”
Satisfied with his uncle’s answer, Ben reached for the old bladeless razor
Smitty had given him and went about his own version of shaving. Once they had
both rinsed their razors in the sink, Ben looked up at him and said, “I’m really
going to miss you, Uncle Gabe.”
A searing pain this time, straight to the heart.
Gabe lifted Ben off the stool and waited until Ben returned the stool to the
closet before he said, “I’m going to miss you, too, Ben. But sometimes we have
to do things we don’t like because it’s the best thing for us to do.”
“Like when Mom makes me eat those green peas I hate?”
Gabe laughed. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
He swung Ben onto his shoulders for their trip to the dining room. And after
placing Ben in his chair, Gabe took his own seat at the opposite end of the
table from Sara. Everyone automatically bowed their heads for Ben’s nightly
prayer.
Except Gabe.
He sat rigid in his seat, listening to Ben’s small voice echo through the room,
and fully aware of how empty life was going to be when Ben and Sara moved to
Redstone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RONNIE GLANCED at her bedside clock and frowned. It was ten o’clock and Charlie
still hadn’t come to her. The thought of his hard, naked body on top of hers
drove her crazy most of the time. The same way the thought of his hard, naked
body on top of hers was driving her crazy right now.
She’d told herself for months that what she felt for Charlie was purely
physical, but she’d secretly known it was more than that. It was a million
different things, when she thought about it. Charlie could be rough and crude
when she was in the mood for rough and crude, or he could hold her so tenderly
it almost brought tears to her eyes. And to her, tears were as foreign as ballet
lessons.
Charlie accepted her for who she was and didn’t try to change her—not that it
would have done him any good to try. He loved her. And he told her he loved her
often. The big surprise was Ronnie liked being loved.
So where the hell was he?
Ronnie glanced at the clock again. Now it was ten-fifteen. She threw the covers
back, left the bed and was dressed in minutes, then started her hunt for her
tardy lover. She found Charlie in the bunkhouse playing cards.
He barely glanced in her direction when she stormed in.
“Meet me outside,” she ordered.
“I’m busy.”
No one at the table said a word.
They knew better.
“Then get unbusy,” Ronnie told him.
Charlie cursed and threw down his cards.
Ronnie marched out of the bunkhouse. She was halfway across the yard when
Charlie caught up with her. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.
“What’s your damn problem?”
Ronnie was livid. “Don’t you ever embarrass me in front of my ranch hands like
that again.”
He laughed. “You’re a fine one to talk about embarrassing somebody. Do you think
I haven’t heard about the visit you paid Gabe Coulter last night when you didn’t
think his wife was home? How embarrassed do you think I am right now? Everybody
knows I’ve been sharing your bed.”
Ronnie lifted her chin. “Nothing happened.”
“Only because Gabe threw your ass out!”
“That’s his version,” Ronnie yelled. “I wouldn’t wipe my feet on Gabe Coulter.”
Charlie stuck a finger under her nose. “And you’re through wiping your feet on
me.”
He stomped toward the barn.
Ronnie marched after him.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Charlie whirled to face her. “Exactly what I said. I’m done, Ronnie. You did
what you set out to do. Gabe’s wife is leaving him.”
Ronnie’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it,” Charlie said. “Just don’t expect me to stick around for Gabe’s
sloppy seconds. I’m leaving in the morning. And I won’t be back.”
He marched off again.
“Come back here, dammit!” Ronnie called out as she followed.
If Gabe hadn’t acted like such an ass when he stormed into the dining room, she
would have apologized as she’d planned. But Gabe had looked at her with such
contempt in his eyes that a lifetime of rejection had thrown her into a
full-blown rage. She’d lashed out in anger—the only way she knew how.
And now it was costing her everything she wanted.
“Dammit, Charlie. Stop and listen to me for a minute.”
Charlie didn’t stop until they reached the barn. When he did turn around he
grabbed Ronnie by the shoulders and shook her so hard her teeth rattled. “No,
you listen to me. Only God knows why I love you, Ronnie. You sure as hell aren’t
an easy person to love. But I know you. Gabe’s free now. And you’ll never be
able to leave him alone.”
“Yes, I will,” Ronnie vowed. “I swear it.”
Charlie pushed her away.
But Ronnie grabbed his arm. “I want you, Charlie.” It was the closest thing to
begging Ronnie had ever done when she added, “Please. Tell me. What can I do to
convince you of that?”
He jerked his arm free, unimpressed. “Patch things up with Gabe and his wife.
Until you do, don’t come looking for me.”
He spun around and headed to the bunkhouse.
Ronnie stood there, too shocked to move.
Gabe and Sara Coulter both hated her guts and Charlie damn well knew it. He’d
picked the one thing he knew she couldn’t do. And he’d done so on purpose.
“Screw you, Charlie Biggs!”
The loud bang as Charlie slammed the bunkhouse door only made Ronnie more angry.
She stomped across the yard, stormed into the house and slammed her front door
even harder.
Let Charlie leave. Good damn riddance!
Gabe’s wife might be a twit, but the woman wasn’t stupid. She’d make Gabe squirm
and threaten to take the kid away from him, but they’d be back together by the
end of the week. Then who was going to feel like a first-class fool? That’s
right. Charlie.
The slam of her bedroom door only fueled Ronnie’s fury. She kicked off her
boots, ripped off her shirt and wiggled out of her jeans. She threw her right
boot at the mirror over her dresser, shattering glass all over her bedroom
floor. Her left boot sailed through the air and knocked the picture of her
sitting on her first pony off the wall with a loud thud.
Charlie would be back.
She was sure of it.
But when he did come crawling back begging her forgiveness, she had news for
Charlie. She’d laugh in his stupid, good-for-nothing face.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SARA AND BETSY WAITED until the pretty real estate agent in the bright gold
blazer unlocked the door to the Blake house and ushered them inside. The blonde,
Karen, had driven from Aspen to show them the property. And she’d brought her
high-rent-district attitude along with her.
“The lease is fifteen hundred a month,” Karen said. “A little steep for a town
the size of Redstone, but it’s the price you pay for being on the main street.”
Sara walked across the sizable front room.
“The kitchen is right through those doors, and there’s plenty of living space
upstairs.”
Sara peered into the spacious kitchen.
“The homey atmosphere should be perfect for a bakery,” Karen assured them.
“Atmosphere, after all, is what most tourists are looking for when they come to
a quaint little town like Redstone. Add a few rustic tables and chairs in here
and it’ll look perfect.”
“The place does have charm,” Betsy agreed.
“Yes, it does,” Sara said, “but it’s been sitting empty well over a year. And
even with it being on Redstone Boulevard, it’s still on the lower end of town.
That makes me doubt the location. I also have to consider the improvements I’d
have to make before I could open the bakery. The floors are scarred, the walls
need painting, and this is just the downstairs. We haven’t even seen the
upstairs yet.” Sara glanced at Karen.
She forced a smile and said, “But the upstairs isn’t something you would have to
worry about immediately. You could postpone any improvements you wanted to make
until the bakery began showing a profit.”
“True,” Sara said, “but I still can’t justify paying fifteen hundred a month for
a place I’ll have to fix up. Not when I’ve already been offered a suitable space
for the bakery for only nine fifty closer to the other shops.”
“Nine fifty?” Karen repeated, obviously shocked.
Sara nodded.
Karen flipped through her notebook. “You know,” she mused, “nine fifty might not
be out of the question. You’re right about the place standing vacant for so
long. And it is farther from the rest of the other shops.” She tapped a
manicured finger against a page. “Why don’t I just run out to my car and give
the owner a quick call on my cell? Nine fifty might be doable in this
situation.”
“Sorry,” Betsy drolled, “I’m afraid your cell is useless in this quaint little
town. You’ll have to use the pay phone at Jones Country Store.”
Karen looked perturbed then scurried out the door.
Betsy burst out laughing. “What space are you talking about? I didn’t know
anything else was for rent on Redstone Boulevard.”
Sara sent Betsy a sly smile. “You’re forgetting I’ve been on my own a long time,
Betsy. I learned how to bargain for the best price at a very early age.”
“You mean you really are interested in this place?”
“Let’s see what the agent comes up with first,” Sara said with a worried look.
“My loan at the bank has already been approved, although I suspect Gabe had
something to do with that. And even though I’ve saved almost every penny Gabe’s
paid me over the past six months, my finances are still strained. It’ll be
expensive getting a business off the ground. And I’ll have to think about
furniture, too. Both for the bakery and for upstairs.”
“Leave the furniture to me,” Betsy said. “When Joe’s folks died a few years ago,
we stored more furniture than I care to think about in my attic and out in the
barn. With a little elbow grease, we’ll have this place looking so quaint, all
of those rich folks from Vail and Aspen will think they’ve traveled back in time
to the Old, Old West.”
Sara smiled. “What would I ever do without you?”
“Don’t worry,” Betsy teased, “I have an ulterior motive in making myself so
useful.”
“And what would that be?”
“Let’s just say I expect a huge discount on all the pastry my heart desires.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Sara agreed as Karen swept back in, giving Sara
the thumbs-up sign.
“Well, it looks like you’re in business.” Betsy beamed.
Sara let out a long sigh. “Yes, I guess it does.”
But her excitement was overshadowed by two major concerns. One, spending every
nickel she had on a business that could easily fail. And her second was knowing
once she committed to leasing the property, there was no turning back on her and
Gabe.
“Are you really sure you want to do this, Sara? Going out on your own is a big
step. Shouldn’t you stay at the ranch and try to work things out with Gabe?”
“Going out on my own is the only way I can work things out with Gabe, Betsy.”
“And does Gabe understand this?”
Sara shook her head. “Of course not. He thinks I’m leaving because I’m not sure
how I feel about him.”
When Betsy didn’t comment, Sara asked, “Is that what you think, too, Betsy?”
Betsy sent her a sympathetic look. “I believe you love Gabe, Sara. But Gabe’s a
black-and-white kind of guy. You either love him or you don’t. No in between. No
if you do this, I’ll do that. If you leave the ranch, there’s a big chance you
could lose him. I just want to make sure you understand that.”
“I do understand that,” Sara said. “But I’d rather lose Gabe completely than
spend the rest of my life wondering if Gabe only settled for loving me because
it was best for Ben.”
And before she lost her nerve, Sara walked across the room where the real estate
agent was holding out a pen so Sara could sign the lease on the big chance she
was willing to take.

“WELL, I SURE HOPE you’re happy.”
Gabe stopped cleaning out the stall and turned to find Smitty standing behind
him, leaning on his cane. “Happy about what?”
“About letting Sara walk out of your life,” Smitty said. “She just told me she’s
signed a lease on the old Blake house in town.”
Gabe frowned. “And why does that surprise you? You told me the other day Sara
was planning to go look at it.”
“It surprises me, because I thought the two of you had patched things up,”
Smitty said. “The past few days butter wouldn’t have melted in your mouths the
way you’ve been acting around each other.”
“And you think if I act like a jerk and refuse to talk to Sara, she would change
her mind and want to stick around?”
“No. But I think if you march into that house right now and tell Sara you love
her, it might put an end to this foolishness.”
Gabe tossed the pitchfork aside and faced Smitty with his hands at his waist.
“I’ve already tried that approach, remember? It wasn’t good enough for her.
Leave it alone, old man. It’s over between us.”
Smitty didn’t leave it alone. “What are you saying, Gabe? That you don’t love
Sara enough to ask her to stay?”
“Maybe I love Sara enough to let her go.”
“Well, that’s just plain bullshit.” Smitty hobbled off.
Gabe picked up his pitchfork and went back to work.
So. It really was final.
Sara was still determined to leave.
And he was still determined to let her go.

SARA HAD BEEN so busy cleaning her new place from top to bottom, and hauling
furniture from the Grahams’ over the past few weeks, Christmas had sneaked up on
her like a thief in the night. She stood alone in the darkened den, mesmerized
by the twinkling lights on the giant fir tree, and finding it hard to believe it
was already Christmas Eve.
One more day then she and Ben would move to Redstone.
Sara reached out and touched one of the slender branches, thinking back to the
day Gabe had asked her to go with him and Ben in search of the tree. It had been
such a glorious December day—the sunshine turned the heavy snow into a blanket
of sparkling white glitter, the sky above them so clear and blue it took her
breath away. It had also been the only day she’d spent any time with Gabe since
the night Ronnie strolled through the door and changed the course of their
lives.
On the way up the mountain, they’d stopped to make a snowman in the middle of
the forest, adorning the chubby character they created with a variety of bells
and cones covered with wild bird seed as a Christmas present for their feathered
neighbors. Ben had instigated a fierce snowball fight, which Gabe eventually
won, despite the fact that she and Ben had teamed up against him.
It was Ben who had first spotted the tree farther up the slope where Gabe had
taken them. Watching Gabe’s patience with Ben—holding the ax but allowing Ben to
help cut the tree—had only deepened Sara’s love for him.
Gabe loved Ben unconditionally.
Sara would never doubt that.
Too bad he didn’t feel the same way about her.
In fact, Gabe had become a stranger to her. He’d been pleasant enough, but
guarded. He’d made sure there were no chance touches between them. No brushing
of their shoulders. And not once had he sent her a meaningful glance, offering
her even a glimmer of hope that he still loved her.
They’d reverted to the initial roles they’d played when she first moved to the
ranch, as if the intimate moments in each other’s arms had never happened. At
times, Sara wondered if their brief love affair had only been a figment of her
imagination.
“Sara.”
She turned to see Gabe standing right behind her.
He handed her one of the cups he was holding. “I thought you might like some
more hot cider.” He looked at the tree, rocking back on his heels before
clearing his throat. “I wanted to talk to you alone before tomorrow morning.”
Sara issued a silent prayer that Gabe was going to ask her to stay. Yet in her
heart she knew he’d already allowed things to progress too far if he’d had any
doubts about her leaving.
“You’re right,” she said. “Things are going to be pretty hectic in the morning.
I can’t decide who’s more excited—Smitty or Ben.”
“Yeah,” he said, glancing at the parcels around the tree. “It’s been a long time
since we had any reason to have a tree or presents around here.”
Sara winced at his comment. But dammit, she wasn’t going to cry!
She sat on the floor in front of the tree.
Gabe surprised her by sitting beside her.
On impulse, Sara reached out and grabbed a brightly wrapped package. “This is
for you,” she told him. “From me.”
He hesitated for a moment, but took the package. He tore off the shiny silver
paper, opened the lid then lifted out the expensive pair of leather chaps from
the box. The look in his eyes immediately softened. “You obviously knew how much
I needed these,” he said. “Thank you.”
He surprised her again with a quick kiss on the cheek. Then he pulled an
envelope from his shirt pocket.
“I didn’t wrap your present in fancy paper,” he said, “but Merry Christmas,
Sara.”
Sara opened the envelope and looked inside to find three neatly folded
documents. Removing the first one, she leaned closer to the tree lights to read
it. She gasped when she realized she was holding the deed to the Blake house.
“Gabe—”
“I offered you money once for the wrong reason. Let me give you something now
for the right reason. Those landmongers in Aspen would have raised the rent on
your next lease the minute your bakery started showing any profit. That deed
will keep the profit in your pocket.”
Sara still willed herself not to cry. She couldn’t pull it off.
When she took the second document from the envelope, Gabe said, “I bought the
Jeep for you when you came to the ranch and I want you to keep it. That’s the
title. And that’s another thing I won’t argue about.”
Reaching up, Sara swiped at her cheeks. She took the final document out of the
envelope.
But before she could unfold it, Gabe pulled her to him for a long, final kiss.
When he released her, Sara didn’t miss the moisture in his eyes.
“Be happy, Sara. You deserve it.”
Then Gabe was gone.
And Sara was left sitting by the Christmas tree alone, staring at the papers
that would put an official end to Gabe and Sara Coulter’s marriage of
inconvenience in ninety short days.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
FRESH FROM THE OVEN officially opened for business the third weekend in January,
which coincided with the annual Sled Dog Races. Everyone in town agreed Sara
couldn’t have picked a more perfect time to launch her new business.
People from all over the country made the trip to join in the festivities. It
was a big business weekend for the whole town of Redstone. And to Sara’s
delight, her new establishment became an instant hit with everyone who walked
through the bakery’s front door.
“Please tell me we can call it a day,” Betsy pleaded on Sunday evening. “It’s
officially six o’clock, my feet are killing me and I vote we lock up.”
Sara took the keys from her apron pocket and tossed them to Betsy. “You lock up,
I’ll bring coffee.”
She turned back to the pile of dirty baking pans stacked in the sink and
actually smiled. She’d been so busy during the last day of the dog races that,
other than a few lonely blueberry muffins left in the pastry case, everything
had been sold out.
Dirty dishes or not, it had been a good day.
By the time Betsy locked the front door, Sara was holding two cups of coffee.
She shooed Betsy over to one of the tables in the front room.
As the snooty real estate agent had envisioned, a variety of rustic tables and
chairs now provided more than enough atmosphere for jet-setting tourists in
search of a quaint Old West bakery. Betsy’s shabby-chic decorating ideas
couldn’t have been more perfect. An assortment of antique cooking utensils
adorned the newly-painted walls—rolling pins, biscuit cutters, even a
wooden-handled mixer.
Another of Betsy’s contributions had been from her greenhouse. Large clay pots
filled with bright-faced pansies were everywhere, perking up the room.
“What we need now is a fairy godmother who will have that kitchen cleaned up by
the time we finish our coffee.” Betsy heaved a sigh of relief when she flopped
onto one chair and propped her feet up on another.
“You’ve already been my fairy godmother,” Sara told her. “I never would have
survived this weekend without your help, Betsy. Thanks for ignoring my offer to
send you home where you belonged.”
Betsy shrugged off the compliment. “This wasn’t my first dogsled weekend. I knew
it would be a madhouse in town. I just never expected people to be lined up on
the sidewalk waiting to get inside a bakery.”
Sara grinned. “I think people really were impressed with the pastry, don’t you?”
“Impressed? Are you kidding? I saw two little old ladies rolling around on the
ground fighting over a piece of your baklava.”
Sara laughed. “I realize this is not going to be my typical business weekend,
but I did have several different business owners from Glenwood Springs approach
me about supplying them with fresh pastries every week.”
“That could really be a lifeline,” Betsy agreed. “If you cater to a few of the
big hotels and restaurants, you could build up a steady clientele.”
Sara took a sip. “I’m just not sure how I could swing it this soon, Betsy. I
can’t keep imposing on you, and I’m not in the position to hire someone to look
after the bakery while I make deliveries to Glenwood Springs every week.”
“Then recruit a deliveryman,” Betsy said with a twinkle in her eye. “You know.
Someone who would love to ride over to Glenwood Springs once a week and get
caught up on all the juicy gossip in the county.”
“You mean Smitty?”
“I can’t think of anyone better suited for the job.”
“And wouldn’t Gabe just love that? Smitty’s already spent more time here than he
has at the ranch over the past few weeks helping us pull things together. I can
only imagine what Gabe would do if he found out I’d recruited Smitty.”
Betsy shrugged. “You never know. After all, Gabe did drop by for a minute
yesterday.”
“Only to pick up Ben and take him to the dog races.”
“Yeah, but he did stop by. Maybe Gabe will turn out to be more supportive about
your move to town than you think.”
Sara took another sip. She wasn’t pinning any false hopes on Betsy’s assessment
of the situation. Gabe had stopped by at the absolute busiest part of her day,
and he’d stayed only long enough to collect Ben and offer a brief nod in her
direction. It had been Smitty, not Gabe, who had brought Ben back later that
night.
What Sara also hadn’t told Betsy was that Gabe had turned her down both times
she’d asked him over for supper shortly after she and Ben had moved to town.
She’d wanted him to see her in a different light. Wanted him to realize she was
a smart, resourceful woman perfectly capable of running her own business and
supporting her son—and not the charity case she’d been when Gabe first met her.
But he hadn’t given her that chance.
Instead, both times he’d come up with some lame excuse about being tied up at
the ranch. He’d also shown no interest whatsoever in what she’d been able to do
with the living quarters upstairs. On the two occasions he had stopped by for
Ben, Gabe had managed an exceedingly quick exit. Sara had a sickening feeling
things weren’t going to change anytime soon.
“Mom?” Ben yelled down from the top of the stairs. “Me and Junior’s hungry.”
“Junior and I,” Sara yelled back.
“Can you bake us a pizza, Mom?”
Sara looked over at Betsy.
Betsy looked back at Sara.
“Oh, no, he didn’t,” Betsy said. “Please tell me that child did not have the
audacity to even utter the word bake to you.”
Sara laughed.
Betsy narrowed her eyes. “Shall you go up and strangle him, or shall I?”
“You go strangle him,” Sara said. “I’ll put a pizza in the oven.”
“No, I’ll spare his life this time,” Betsy said. “But only because the boys have
been such angels to stay upstairs and play all afternoon.”
“Did you hear me, Mom?”
“We heard you,” Betsy responded. “You want pizza.”
“Fresh from the oven,” Sara quipped.
She pulled her weary self up from her chair and headed for her less than tidy
kitchen.

GABE FROWNED at the pitiful group gathered around his dining room table. “Would
you guys stop acting like Smitty just served you a plate of poison? I remember a
time when you inhaled anything he put in front of you.”
“Yeah, but that was before Sara spoiled us with all her good cooking,” Slim
muttered.
“Yeah,” another hand spoke up. “I’d kill for a big plate of Sara’s meat loaf and
that homemade gravy of hers about now.”
“Things sure ain’t the same around here without her,” Smitty chimed in. “And
that’s a fact.”
Gabe slammed his fist on the table.
Every paper plate fluttered when he did.
“Do you think it might be possible to get through at least one meal without
someone moaning and groaning because Sara is gone?”
Gabe pushed his chair back from the table. And stormed out of the room.
He grabbed his jacket from the coatrack next to the kitchen door, left the house
and headed for the barn. He was as frustrated over the whole situation as the
rest of them. But most of all, he was angry with himself for taking that
frustration out on Smitty and the boys.
Dammit!
Didn’t they realize they weren’t the only ones who missed Sara. His heart ached
every time he looked across the table and saw her vacant chair.
Gabe stomped into the barn and walked toward Bruiser, who immediately trotted to
the front of his stall, bobbing his head up and down for Gabe’s attention. “At
least you don’t try to make me feel guilty about Sara leaving,” Gabe told the
horse as he rubbed Bruiser’s nose.
Bruiser nuzzled against his hand, and Gabe reached into a feed bag hanging by
the stall for a handful of oats.
“What do they expect me to do?” Gabe asked when Bruiser began lapping up the
oats. “Run to Redstone every night with a bouquet of flowers and a box of
chocolates in hand? Don’t they realize I gave it my best shot when Sara was
living right here under my own roof, and that wasn’t good enough for her?”
Bruiser snorted in agreement with Gabe’s tirade.
He got another handful of oats for his loyalty.
“And all this calling me up and inviting me over for supper. What’s that about?
Doesn’t Sara realize it tears my heart out to be in the same room with her? That
it’s everything I can do to keep my hands out of her hair? Doesn’t she have any
idea that I love her more than I ever thought I could love anyone or anything
else in the world?”
Bruiser gave Gabe’s shoulder a sympathetic nudge.
In return, Gabe patted the big horse’s neck and rubbed him affectionately
between the ears. “You and I have the type of relationship I can understand,”
Gabe told the horse. “I take good care of you, and you don’t doubt my
intentions. You don’t second-guess my motives. You instinctively know that you
can always depend on me. And that’s the way a relationship should be. Just like
the one I have with you.”
He gave Bruiser a final pat, walked to the barn door and looked out at the
silver snowcapped mountains illuminated by the moonlight. He’d been worried from
the beginning that Sara might have trouble settling into a solitary life on the
ranch. And when he thought about it, he couldn’t really blame her for preferring
town—even one as small as Redstone—to the isolation that surrounded them at the
Crested-C.
It took a special kind of woman to live on a ranch and cook three meals a day
for a bunch of hungry men. And although Sara had never once complained about her
chores, he hadn’t missed the excited glow on Sara’s face Friday when he’d
stopped by the bakery to pick Ben up for the dogsled races.
Surrounded by the crowd of the people crammed into the bakery, Sara looked
happier than he’d ever seen her. And although he couldn’t help but feel more
than a little jealous, in his heart, Gabe was pleased.
Sara had started her new life, and from every indication it would be a huge
success. It was time now to get his own life back on track and stop grieving for
what might have been.
Gabe closed the barn door, ready to apologize for the tantrum he’d thrown
earlier. Smitty and his ranch hands had stood by him through the good times and
the bad.
And accepting life without Sara, Gabe knew, was going to be an extremely bad
time for many more months to come.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
SARA KEPT the bakery closed on Sundays. She needed at least one day set aside
for Ben. They’d also started attending church with the Grahams. She was waiting
for Gabe to bring Ben home now. Gabe had promised to have Ben back by eight so
he wouldn’t miss Sunday school at ten.
She hurried to her bedroom window when she heard the truck stop out front. Then
Sara flew back to her dresser for a final look in the mirror before she went
downstairs. Pushing a few stray hairs into her hair clip, she couldn’t help
thinking that it would serve Gabe right if she took the clip out altogether.
But she’d never do that.
Taking her hair down was special to Gabe.
He considered it sensual—and private.
By the time Sara reached the door, Gabe and Ben were already walking up the
steps. Ben bolted into the room with the gusto of a soon-to-be six-year-old,
slipped off his backpack and thrust it in Sara’s direction.
“Hi, Mom,” he said as Sara bent down for a kiss. “I had a great time. Some of
the boys came up to the house last night and played music. And every time Smitty
blew his old harmonica, Bandit howled like this.” Ben threw his head back.
“Woo-woo. Wooooooooooooooo.”
Sara laughed and helped Ben off with his coat before she smiled at Gabe. “Would
you like a piece of pie and some coffee, Gabe?”
He was still standing on the porch. And the look on his face said he wasn’t
coming in.
“Better not,” he said, patting his stomach. “I’ve dropped a few pounds eating
Smitty’s cooking. I’d like to keep it that way.”
If his comment was meant to hurt her, it worked.
But Sara wasn’t ready to give up yet. “Just coffee, then?”
Gabe shuffled from one foot to the other.
Ben reached out and grabbed his uncle’s hand. “Come on in, Uncle Gabe. I want
you to see my bedroom.”
Removing his Stetson, Gabe stepped inside the door and allowed Ben to pull him
across the room to the stairs. When the two of them started to the upper level,
Sara followed. But she held back when they reached Ben’s bedroom, leaning
against doorjamb instead of entering the room herself.
“I guess my room’s okay, but it’s not as good as my room at home,” Ben
announced, producing, Sara noticed, a slight smile from his uncle at the
knowledge that Ben still considered the ranch home.
“Well, I think this is a great room, Ben,” Gabe said as he inspected some of the
drawings Ben had taped on the wall beside his bed.
“That’s Bess and Bandit,” Ben said proudly, pointing to two shapes that slightly
resembled man’s best friend. “And that’s Lightning,” he informed Gabe, pointing
to a rather legible drawing of a white pony.
“What about this one?” Gabe asked.
“That’s you and Smitty sitting on the corral fence.”
“Is my nose really that big?” Gabe teased.
Ben giggled.
“Gabe,” Sara interrupted, “if you change your mind about something to eat or
drink, I’ll be downstairs.”
“No thanks, Sara. I really need to get going.”
He said it without even turning to look at her.
He swung Ben high into the air, then he dropped Ben feetfirst onto the bed.
“Excuse me?” Sara said before she could stop herself.
“Uncle Gabe lets me jump on the bed sometimes when I stay over,” Ben quickly
explained.
“Troublemaker,” Gabe whispered behind his hand.
Ben giggled again and gave his uncle a final hug.
Sara moved out of the doorway when Gabe walked in her direction. “Thanks for
letting Ben spend the weekend with you, Gabe.”
“Thanks for letting him come,” Gabe said.
He started down the hallway. But when he disappeared down the stairs, Sara
hurried after him before she lost her nerve. “Gabe, wait.”
He turned at the bottom of the stairs. “You got the final annulment papers,
right?”
Sara nodded and started down the steps. She’d cried all day when she got them.
During the three long months since she’d left the ranch, she’d tried everything
possible to keep the channels of communication open between them. She’d extended
invitations he never accepted. She’d stopped by the ranch on numerous occasions
to leave baskets of goodies for him and the boys. She’d even swallowed her
pride, like she was doing now, begging for his attention.
Nothing had worked.
And Sara had finally come to the end of her rope.
By the time she came to a stop on the last step, tears she couldn’t hold back
were streaming down her face. “I’ve lost you, haven’t I, Gabe?”
He frowned at her question. “Don’t do this, Sara. It’s too hard on both of us.”
Sara reached out to touch his arm.
He moved out of reach.
“Don’t, Sara,” he said again.
He walked out her front door and never looked back.
Sara whispered, “Goodbye, Gabe.”
He’d answered her question.
She’d lost him—forever.

DURING THE WEEKS that followed her final plea to Gabe, Sara was forced to accept
the fact that her decision to leave the ranch had been the right choice. Gabe
had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her. All he’d ever cared about
was Ben. And since she wasn’t putting any restrictions on letting Gabe see Ben
whenever he wanted, he had no use for her at all.
Sara no longer called extending invitations he wouldn’t accept. Nor did she take
time out of her busy schedule and drop by the ranch to get a glimpse of him. She
didn’t even hover in the doorway on those Sundays when Gabe brought Ben back to
town, hoping he would stay and visit. Instead, a casual wave from the porch when
Gabe drove up with Ben was the extent of any face-to-face contact between them.
Just like today, Sara thought as Ben bounced up the steps alone while Gabe
pulled away from the curb and drove off down the street. Ben had called her
early that morning, begging to skip church so he could be at the ranch when a
new foal was born.
“The baby foal is so cute, Mom,” Ben said. “I named him Starfighter. He has a
white star on his forehead.”
He only grimaced a little when Sara gave him a hug. Her little boy was growing
up fast.
“Are you hungry?” Sara asked as Ben dumped his gear inside the door.
“I’m real hungry, Mom. Me and Smitty worked real hard. We had to hold Matilda’s
head while Uncle Gabe helped her birth her baby.”
“Smitty and I,” Sara corrected, thinking back to Gabe’s concern that the
Crested-C wouldn’t mean anything to Ben unless he grew up on the land. Her son
might not be living at the ranch at the moment, but Sara had a new understanding
of what it meant to be blood kin.
The Crested-C meant everything to Ben.
“The snow’s melting real fast now, Mom,” Ben said as they walked into the
kitchen. “Can we go home soon?”
His question broke her heart.
Hoping to avoid the subject until she could figure out exactly what to say, Sara
said, “So how hungry are you, sweetie? Hungry enough for a big cheeseburger?”
“With extra, extra cheese.”
Later, after Ben was occupied with his extra, extra cheeseburger, Sara took a
seat beside him. “You know, Ben, I’m not sure we’ll be moving back to the ranch
anytime soon.”
Ben stopped chewing and gave Sara a concerned look. “You mean ’cause you and
Uncle Gabe got nulled?”
Sara raised an eyebrow. “Where did you hear that?”
“Junior said you and Uncle Gabe got nulled. What’s nulled, Mom? Does it hurt?”
More than you’ll ever know.
“The word is annulled, Ben. It’s a legal term for what happens when you end an
agreement. Uncle Gabe and I agreed to stay married for six months. Our six
months were over, so we ended our agreement.”
Ben thought it over and said, “Junior said I didn’t have a family anymore. But
when I asked Uncle Gabe about it, he said we’d always be a family, no matter
what.”
His words turned Sara inside out.
“Your Uncle Gabe was right. You’re a Coulter, remember? And whether you live at
the ranch or in town, you’ll always be a Coulter and Gabe will always be your
family.”
Ben swiped away his milk mustache with the back of his hand. “Are you still a
Coulter, too, Mom?”
Sara shook her head. “No, honey. I’m not a Coulter anymore.”
She almost added, I never really was.
“Uncle Gabe said when school’s out you might let me stay at the ranch longer
than just on weekends so I can learn to take care of Starfighter all by myself.”
He sent her a pleading look. “Would you, Mom?”
“We’ll see,” Sara answered.
Ben smiled.
The words slipped right out of Sara’s mouth. “Did your Uncle Gabe say anything
else about me?”
“Like what, Mom?” Ben asked innocently.
“Forget it, honey, it isn’t important,” Sara said, immediately ashamed of
herself for tying to pump her own son for information about a man who didn’t
love her.
“Uncle Gabe did say something about you this morning.”
Sara held her breath.
“He said—” and Ben mimicked Gabe’s deep voice “—you’d better get out of that mud
puddle, Ben, or your mom will skin both of us alive.”
Sara sent Ben a pretend mean look and said, “And I will skin you both alive,
young man, the day you come home looking like you’ve been playing in the
pigsty.”
Ben giggled at Sara’s response.
Sara left Ben to finish his cheeseburger. But her heart was filled with an
incredible sadness. It was over between her and Gabe. The sooner she accepted
that fact the better. One day Gabe Coulter would look just as good driving away
from her house as he did driving up to the curb.
Comforted by that lie, Sara headed for the kitchen to check on the orders Smitty
would deliver to Glenwood Springs tomorrow morning. Against her better judgment,
Smitty had assumed the role of her deliveryman, though it had been Betsy, not
Sara, who had recruited him for the job. As Betsy predicted, Smitty had jumped
at the chance to make a weekly trip out of Redstone so he could broaden his
horizons in the gossip arena.
Smitty’s assurance that it was none of Gabe’s business, however, didn’t qualm
Sara’s concern that Gabe disapproved of Smitty’s new job. And if she hadn’t
needed Smitty’s help so desperately, she would have vetoed the idea from the
very beginning.
But her catering orders had actually put her over the top as far as her finances
were concerned. And although the bakery had done much better than she originally
hoped, the catering income would make it possible for her to pay off her loan at
the bank sooner than she expected.
As soon as the loan was paid off, she intended to start making mortgage payments
to Gabe. And that was something she wasn’t going to argue about.
Satisfied her orders were complete, Sara heard Ben’s footsteps on the stairs,
then waited until the music from his favorite video game filtered down from his
bedroom. Ben being home had put an end to the deadly silence that often consumed
Sara. But even Ben’s presence on Sunday evenings didn’t lift Sara’s blue mood.
Sunday evenings had once been private time with Gabe.
Of course, Betsy reminded Sara on a regular basis that her solitary life was her
own choosing. And that she owed it to herself to accept some of the offers she’d
received from the good-looking cowboys who made a special trip to the bakery to
have an excuse to talk to her.
“Give Gabe a run for his money,” Betsy had urged Sara time and again. “Let Gabe
know he’d better come to his senses before someone else takes his place.”
In time, maybe Sara would date someone else. And comforted by that lie, too,
Sara cleared Ben’s plate from the table, placed the dishes in her industrial
dishwasher and switched off the kitchen light. She wandered upstairs and, after
making a quick check on Ben, Sara seated herself on the sofa in the spare
bedroom she’d turned into a den.
Absently flipping through the television channels, she stopped when she found
one of her favorite programs: From Eats to Sweets with Don Inglehorn. The famous
food critic lived in Denver, but he traveled nationwide. And his viewers had the
privilege of tagging along with him as Don toured the country looking for the
best restaurants, bistros and bakeries to review.
“Next month in May,” Don Inglewood said smiling into the camera, “I’ll be
visiting one of my favorite places in my home state of Colorado. And you can
count on me to be looking for the best Glenwood Springs has to offer—from eats
to sweets.”
Sara was so excited she could hardly contain herself.
She grabbed the portable phone sitting on the end table beside her and hit Speed
Dial. “You aren’t going to believe this,” Sara breathed into the phone, “but I
just heard on television that Don Inglehorn is going to be in Glenwood Springs
next month.”
“Don who?”
“The famous food critic, Betsy! How hard do you think it would be to find out
where he’ll be staying in Glenwood Springs?”
“Oh. My. God.” Betsy gasped. “Please tell me this guy is so hot you’ve forgotten
you even know Gabe Coulter.”
Sara laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you. Don is in his fifties and he’s obviously
gay. But I want a basket filled with goodies from Fresh from the Oven waiting
for him when he arrives at his hotel.”
“Well, I guess we could call around and ask.”
“You’ll help me find out where he’s staying then?”
“Oh, pooh,” Betsy said. “What a silly question.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SMITTY SAT perched on the back of the flatbed truck late Thursday afternoon
while Gabe wrestled with a bale of barbed wire that was currently getting the
better of him. It irked Gabe every time the old man jammed his hand into a bag
of doughnuts that had Fresh from the Oven written in bright pink letters across
the front of the bag.
“Did you hear that big food critic from Denver is going to bring his television
crew to Redstone next month and give Sara an exclusive interview on his
program?”
Gabe stiffened at the sound of Sara’s name. But he went back to work unraveling
the length of wire he needed from the bale.
“Yeah,” Smitty said, “it seems this Don Inglehorn makes a trip once a year to
the Hotel Denver over in Glenwood Springs for a mineral bath in that natural hot
springs pool they have. The guy had such a fit over Sara’s marble pound cake
last week he drove straight to Redstone and asked Sara to be on his television
program.”
“Maybe he’ll want to interview her damn deliveryman, too,” Gabe grumbled, and
gave the fence post a sound thud with head of his mallet.
“The whole town’s excited over the exposure Redstone’s gonna get,” Smitty
rambled on. “The mayor’s arranging a big celebration while the camera crew’s in
town. He’s gonna block off Redstone Boulevard and have an old-fashioned square
dance. Everyone agrees we need to do all we can to promote Redstone with the
whole nation watching.”
Gabe sent Smitty a mean look. “Would you stop yapping and bring me those wire
cutters?”
Smitty abandoned his doughnuts, slid off the back of the truck and hobbled over
to Gabe with the wire cutters in his hand. Gabe cut the wire. But when he drew
back to give the fence post a final hit, Smitty said, “I heard those cowboys who
hang around the bakery are already fighting over who’s gonna take Sara to the
dance.”
The mallet landed on Gabe’s left thumb.
“Dammit!” he cursed, and dropped the mallet.
Smitty leaned over and looked at the ugly gash.
“That’s gotta hurt, Gabe. And that’s a fact.”
Gabe stuck his thumb into his mouth. The look he sent Smitty was lethal.
Smitty only grinned. “There’s some duct tape in the glove box of the truck. Want
me to get a piece and bandage your thumb?”
“I’ll get it my damn self,” Gabe fumed. “And maybe if I put a piece of duct tape
over your mouth we might get a little work done around here.”
Gabe stomped off toward the cab of the truck.
But he wasn’t smarting from his injured thumb nearly as much as the sound of
Smitty’s satisfied chuckle over being able to get him riled up.
“Like I give a damn who takes Sara to the dance,” Gabe mumbled as he used his
teeth to tear off a piece of the silver tape. “Sara can square-dance down
Redstone Boulevard naked for all I care.”
Gabe folded the tape gently over his thumb.
“But she won’t find me standing on the sidelines watching her do it,” Gabe
vowed. “And that is a damn fact.”
“Did you say something, Gabe?” Smitty called out.
Gabe kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot. When he stomped around the
truck, Smitty was still standing beside the bale of wire, a mocking grin on his
whiskered face.
“I said if you’d put forth as much effort being a ranch foreman as you did
delivering doughnuts, we might finish repairing this fence before dark.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” Smitty kept grinning at him.

“YOU LOOK SO PRETTY in that red dress with your dark hair and brown eyes, Sara,”
Hazel Cooper said on Friday afternoon. “Marge showed me the material you picked
out for the pioneer dress she’s making you. And now I understand exactly why you
picked that gingham print. Red is definitely your best color. And you’re going
to look gorgeous in your television interview. I just can’t tell you how pleased
the mayor is that everyone is willing to dress in Old West costumes for the
square dance while Don Inglehorn’s in town. Don’s program is broadcast coast to
coast, you know. And we’ll be bringing a taste of the Old West right into living
rooms all across the nation. Why, the mayor said he wouldn’t be surprised if our
tourist business more than doubles by the end of the summer.”
Sara smiled when Hazel finally completed her run-on sentences. The mayor’s wife
was a robust woman, always impeccably dressed like the mayor was himself, and
Hazel always referred to her husband as the mayor since she and her dearly
beloved were the only two people in Redstone impressed with his title. Hazel
could also tell you who’d been in town on any given day, and what time of day
they arrived and what time they left.
Sara just wished Hazel would hurry up.
Thirty minutes of endless chatter was enough.
Plus, it was Friday and she had to get Ben’s clothes ready to go to the ranch
for the weekend. Gabe wouldn’t arrive until later, after Ben got home from
school, but the bakery had been so busy all morning she was running way behind
schedule. And the last thing Sara wanted was to give Gabe the impression she’d
delayed packing Ben’s things on purpose in order to have an excuse to talk to
him.
Those days were long gone and Sara intended to keep it that way.
Hazel finally pointed to the bakery case. “And I’ll take a dozen of those
scrumptious blueberry tarts. They’re the mayor’s favorite, you know. And that’s
something you might want to mention in your interview, Sara. I don’t know if you
realize it or not, but it’s amazing how much influence political figures have
over the public. I read once that after President Jimmy Carter mentioned he ate
a certain brand of cereal for breakfast, sales for that brand increased fifty
percent.”
“You don’t say,” Sara mumbled as she plopped the last of the blueberry tarts
into the bag with the doughnuts, the apple turnovers and the cream puffs, and
handed it across the counter. After giving the woman her change, Sara smiled and
said, “Tell the mayor I hope he enjoys these.”
“Oh, the mayor always enjoys anything I bring him from your bakery, Sara. In
fact—”
The incessant babbling suddenly stopped.
Sara looked up as Ronnie Kincaid walked into the bakery.
Hazel sent an anxious look at Sara, but she smiled when Ronnie walked up beside
her. “Why, I was just telling the mayor the other day that you hadn’t been to
town in ages, Ronnie.”
Ronnie sent her a bored look. “And you would know, wouldn’t you, Hazel?”
Hazel’s face flushed. “Well!” she huffed. “What a positively rude thing to say!”
Hazel marched out the door.
Ronnie turned her attention to Sara. “I didn’t want an audience for what I came
to say.”
Sara straightened her shoulders. “Then you were rude to Hazel for no reason. I’m
not interested in anything you have to say, Ronnie.”
“Too bad. We need to talk about Gabe.”
“Gabe and I are over.”
Ronnie laughed. “Don’t insult me. We both know it won’t be over for Gabe until
you and your brat leave Redstone.”
Sara’s hackles rose at the nasty reference about Ben. But a glance at the
bakery’s front window reminded Sara she needed to say calm. At least half of the
other shop owners and a dozen or more locals were already sending nervous
glances in their direction. In the midst of it all was the mayor’s wife
chattering at the top of her lungs.
“My son and I aren’t going anywhere,” Sara said, looking back at Ronnie. “And I
think you should leave before you draw a larger crowd than the one standing
outside there now.”
Ronnie sent a brief glance over her shoulder. She sneered at Sara when she
turned around. “Do you really think those idiots out there give a damn about
you? Because they don’t. They’ve all been waiting to see me kick your ass since
the day you brought Billy Coulter’s bastard home to Redstone.”
Sara paled and felt the closest she’d ever come to slapping anyone.
“Your insults aren’t going to work on me, Ronnie. If I let you bully me into a
fistfight like some common tramp, those people out there will assume everything
they’ve ever thought about me behind my back is true. But I’m not like that. And
you’re not worth me looking cheap now.”
Sara stepped around from behind the counter. “I’ll show you your way out.” She
walked over to open the front door.
“Sara, look out!” someone screamed.
Sara turned around in time to see a chair sailing through the air. It missed her
completely. But it hit the bakery’s plate-glass window with a thunderous bang.
Glass exploded in every direction.
The crowd outside scattered like a flock of pigeons.

RONNIE WALKED calmly out of the bakery and down the front steps. She ignored the
angry stares and the nasty insults people hurled in her direction and continued
across the street to her Suburban. Her next stop would be to the pay phone at
Jones Country Store. Then she was headed to Crested Butte where she intended to
give Charlie Biggs a huge piece of her mind.
“Stupid people,” Ronnie mumbled a few minutes later as she hopped out of the
Suburban and headed for the phone booth.
And she was talking about Gabe, Sara and Charlie.
She’d tried to wait them all out for six long months. She’d waited for Gabe and
Sara to patch things up on their own. And she’d waited for Charlie to get his
head out of his ass and come home to the Flying-K where he belonged.
But she wasn’t waiting any longer.
Not after she’d heard through the cowboy grapevine that Charlie was drinking his
life away in Crested Butte where some little blond barmaid had her eye on him.
And not after she heard some big-shot food critic was coming to interview Sara
at her bakery next month.
Gabe might be a fool, but Ronnie wasn’t.
If she hadn’t caused that scene in the bakery, she and Gabe would have ended up
all alone playing solitaire like her father, while Charlie settled down with the
blonde and Sara moved off to Denver to be the idiot host on some worthless
television baking show.
Sliding behind the wheel again, Ronnie headed for Crested Butte, pleased with
herself whether anyone else appreciated what she’d done for Gabe and Sara or
not. Not that she’d ever admit she’d only caused a scene so Gabe would come
running to Sara’s rescue. Let everyone rush to console poor, sweet little Sara
after big, bad Ronnie threw a chair through her window. The whole town could
think whatever they wanted.
But Ronnie would tell Charlie the truth.
He’d told her not to come looking for him until she patched things up between
Gabe and his wife. Ronnie intended to remind Charlie that he didn’t say a damn
thing about being nice and polite when she did it.

EVERYONE HAD RUSHED toward Sara the minute Ronnie drove away. And thirty minutes
later when Sara looked around, it appeared half of Redstone was still crowded
into the bakery to assess the damage and offer help.
“Don’t worry about that window, Sara,” Hank assured her. He turned to the man
standing beside him. “Right, Harve?”
The owner of the hardware store nodded. “We’ll all pitch in and put some plastic
over your window,” Harvey Miller said. “And I’ll order the new glass first thing
in the morning.”
Someone else handed Sara a glass of water that she eagerly accepted. She had
just taken a long sip from the glass when the mayor’s wife hurried inside.
“I just talked to the mayor,” Hazel said, slightly out of breath, “and he
insists that you press charges, Sara. Ronnie’s been nothing but trouble from the
day she was born, and—”
“No,” Sara said, stopping the woman’s prattle mid-sentence. “I appreciate
everyone’s concern, but I don’t intend to keep a feud going by pressing charges
against Ronnie. She and I had a disagreement. It’s over. And I intend to keep it
that way.”
When the crowd began to break up, Sara heard someone say, “Sara’s a better
person than I am.”
“Me, too,” someone else agreed. “I’d have me a lawyer before the sun went down.”
After the bakery finally emptied, Sara let out a long sigh. She’d known Ronnie
would force a showdown sooner or later. She was just thankful Ronnie had decided
to do it while Ben was at school. One more week and school would have been out
for the summer and Ben would have heard every ugly thing Ronnie said about him.
Even the thought made Sara shudder.
She headed to the kitchen for a dustpan and broom. She couldn’t help but think
about something else Ronnie had said—that it wouldn’t be over for Gabe until
Sara left Redstone. It made her wonder if maybe she should leave so both of them
could finally get on with their lives.
She had just knelt down to sweep up the jagged pieces when she heard another set
of heavy footsteps on her front porch steps. When Sara looked up Gabe was
standing in the doorway, his face as white as the Stetson hat he always wore.
“Are you okay?”
It was all Sara could do to keep from running straight into his arms. Instead,
she said, “I’m fine,” and went back to sweeping the glass into the dustpan.
He removed his hat and took a step in her direction. “Someone called the ranch
and said Ronnie took out your front window with a shotgun.”
Sara stood up. “You know how people in this town like to exaggerate. Ronnie had
her say. She threw a chair through my window. And that’s the end of it.”
Sara turned and headed into the kitchen.
Gabe followed, hat in hand.
Sara ignored him and dumped the glass into the trash. But when she turned around
he was standing way too close for comfort. Only inches were left between them.
He placed his hat on her kitchen counter, looked at her and said, “I know I’ve
been a real jerk, Sara—”
“Don’t, Gabe,” Sara told him, fighting back the tears. “Like you told me once,
it’s too hard on both of us.”
Sara tried to push past him.
But Gabe grabbed her hands, forcing her to stay.
“Just hear me out,” he begged. “Please.”
Sara wanted to tell him no. That she wasn’t interested in anything he had to
say. Just like she had that first day she met him.
But in spite of everything, Sara still loved him.
“I came to make sure you weren’t hurt,” he said, still holding both of her
hands. “But I also stayed up all night rehearsing what I wanted to say to you
when I came for Ben tonight. The stunt Ronnie pulled got me here a little
sooner.”
Gabe dropped down on one knee.
“I love you, Sara. You’re the most important thing in my life and I can’t live
without you. I want you to wear my mother’s wedding dress. I want you to ride up
our driveway in a horse-drawn carriage filled with roses. And I want the whole
town standing on our front lawn when I ask you to be mine forever. Just say I’m
not too late. Say you still love me and that you’ll marry me.”
Sara pulled Gabe up and threw her arms around his neck.
Gabe hugged her against him. “Is that a yes?”
The long kiss Sara gave him answered his question.
Gabe kissed her again.
And again.
Until more footsteps echoed through the bakery.
Ben ran into the kitchen at full speed. “Wow, Mom. What happened to the front
window?” But he looked even more surprised when he saw Gabe. “What are you doing
here already, Uncle Gabe?”
Gabe put his arm around Sara and pulled her close.
“Hey!” Ben protested. “And why are you guys doing all that mushy stuff today?”
“We’re doing all the mushy stuff,” Gabe said with a big grin, “because your mom
just agreed to marry me.”
“Forever this time?” Ben asked.
Gabe looked at Sara for an answer.
“Forever this time,” Sara said.
Ben didn’t hesitate. He ran and jumped into Gabe’s outstretched arms. “Can we go
home now, Mom?”
Sara looked at Gabe for an answer.
“Not until after the wedding, Ben,” Gabe said, and smiled at Sara. “I have some
wooing to do first.”
“Wooing like Bandit does?” Ben threw his head back. “Wooooooooooooooooooo.”
Sara and Gabe both laughed.
But Sara knew her fairy-tale romance was finally about to begin.

RONNIE DROVE down the main street of Crested Butte and slowed to a stop when she
saw Charlie’s truck parked in front of a bar called McAdoo’s. She parked the
Suburban three doors down and took her time walking up the sidewalk.
If she found Charlie all hugged up with the blonde, Ronnie wouldn’t be
responsible for her actions. But if she didn’t, she intended for Charlie to be
with her when she left Crested Butte.
She took a deep breath and walked into the bar. She breathed a sigh of relief
after her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Charlie was sitting at the bar.
Alone. But Ronnie’s eyes narrowed when the perky little blonde behind the bar
suddenly sidled over and practically pushed her boobs in Charlie’s face.
Ronnie marched across the room and slid onto the stool beside him. The deadly
look she gave the blonde sent the bimbo skittering off to the far end of the bar
to attend to another customer. Charlie, however, refused to even acknowledge
Ronnie’s presence.
She looked over at him and said, “Some cushy job you must have if you’re
drinking this early in the day.”
“I’m between jobs at the moment.”
Ronnie reached over, picked up the glass of whiskey sitting in front of him and
drained every drop. “I still need a foreman at the Flying-K.”
“That’s your problem,” he said, and signaled to the blonde. “Jack on the rocks
again, sweetheart.”
The blonde sent Charlie a go-to-hell look.
“Boo-hoo,” Ronnie mocked. “Sweetheart looks pissed.”
Still, Charlie ignored her.
He also ignored the blonde when she slammed his drink down a few minutes later.
He reached for his drink, his eyes still focused straight ahead. “What are you
doing here, Ronnie?”
Ronnie shrugged. “Well, you told me not to come looking for you until I patched
things up with Gabe and his wife. I did that earlier today. So here I am.”
“Right,” he said, and brought the glass to his lips.
“Of course, I had to cause a scene in town so Gabe would have reason to come
running to the rescue. I threw a chair through the bitch’s window at her
bakery.”
Charlie sputtered in his drink.
“But you know me,” Ronnie said, and sighed. “That’s just the type of woman I am.
Bold. Brassy. Always hard to handle.”
Charlie lowered his glass to the bar.
“Yeah,” Ronnie said, “you never know what to expect from a woman like me. But
you can guarantee one thing. The sex will always be sizzling and leave you
begging for more.”
Charlie looked at her for the first time. But it wasn’t lust Ronnie saw in his
eyes. Charlie loved her—he always had. And what he needed now was to hear her
say out loud that she felt the same way about him.
“I love you, Charlie. I want you to come home.”
Charlie grinned. “All you had to do was ask, babe.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
SARA STOOD in Betsy’s upstairs guest bedroom, admiring Mary’s wedding dress in
the full-length mirror. Like the picture of Mary on her wedding day, Sara wasn’t
wearing a veil. Instead, Betsy had entwined a sprinkle of baby’s breath through
her dark, upswept hair. Sara touched the delicate lace across the bodice,
wondering if her own daughter-in-law would want to wear this dress one day.
Or possibly a daughter—if she and Gabe decided to have children. They’d agreed
not to make that decision until later, after they’d had a chance to enjoy being
a real husband and wife.
The bedroom door opened and Sara turned. She smiled when Betsy, Annie and Dessie
filed into the room.
“You look beautiful, Sara,” Dessie said.
“Absolutely perfect,” Betsy agreed.
“Breathtaking,” Annie said, tossing her long, blond hair over one shoulder and
looking pretty breathtaking herself in the pale pink dress she was wearing.
Annie would be her maid of honor. And Smitty, of course, would be Gabe’s best
man. Ben would do his part by walking Sara down the aisle and giving his mother
away.
Sara held her arms out.
They all came together for a group hug.
“Having my three best friends here is what makes everything perfect,” Sara told
them. “Each of you has been there for me through some of the most difficult
times in my life. I can never thank you enough for that.”
“And now we’re here for the most wonderful time in your life,” Betsy said. She
looked down at her watch. “But if we don’t get moving Smitty is going to kill
me. I promised him I’d have the bride to the ranch on time.”
“That Smitty sure is a bossy old cuss,” Dessie said.
“And that’s a fact,” Sara and Betsy said in unison.
Everyone laughed.
“Your dress qualifies as something old, Sara,” Annie said. She reached out and
fastened a pearl bracelet around Sara’s wrist. “This is something new from me.”
“Annie, it’s beautiful,” Sara gushed.
“And I brought you something borrowed,” Dessie said. “When you told me your
dress was Victorian, I knew this would be perfect. It belonged to my
great-grandmother.”
Sara’s eyes filled with tears as Dessie pinned a pink and ivory cameo brooch on
the delicate lace at her throat. “I’ll take good care of it today, Dessie.”
“And did you remember your something blue?”
Sara answered Betsy’s question by pulling up the hem of the dress to display the
lacy blue garter Betsy had bought for her.
“Then let’s go get married,” Betsy chirped happily.
As they started down the stairs, Dessie said, “I’m so glad you aren’t going to
give up your bakery, Sara. Married or not, a woman needs a little independence.”
As they started out the door, Sara said, “I have Betsy to thank for keeping the
bakery. If she hadn’t agreed to become my partner, running the bakery and taking
care of things at the ranch would have been too much.”
“Oh, pooh,” Betsy said. “The town never would have forgiven me if I’d let Sara
close the bakery. Fresh from the Oven put Redstone on the map after Sara’s big
TV interview. Tourists make a beeline for it the minute they hit town.”
As they headed toward Sara’s Jeep, Annie said, “And to think all of this started
because of me and my big mouth.”
“Now wait just a minute,” Dessie said. “I was the one who told Sara she should
come to Colorado with Gabe.”
Annie and Dessie were still arguing over who was responsible for Sara’s new life
when they got into the Cherokee. But Sara knew the truth. Gabe was responsible
for her being on the way to her wedding. Over the past three months Gabe had
wined her and dined her and wooed her until she often felt silly for making such
a request.
But she deserved it.
Sara could say that now and truly believe it.

GABE STOOD beneath the arched trellis the florist had set up on his front lawn,
trying to pretend standing in front of the entire town didn’t make him nervous.
He was the first one to see the carriage top the hill and start down the long
driveway leading up to the house.
Smitty was at the reins in his Sunday best. And the woman Gabe loved, more
beautiful than he’d ever seen her, was sitting in the carriage, wearing his
mother’s wedding dress and surrounded by a sea of pink and white roses.
His heart was so full, Gabe feared it might burst.
He loved Sara more than life itself. And over the past six months he’d realized
how wrong he’d been about what it meant to be married and in love. Love and
marriage wasn’t some fifty-fifty deal where you only had to contribute your half
to make the relationship work. Love and marriage demanded one hundred percent of
everything you had to give one hundred percent of the time. And Gabe intended to
give Sara one hundred percent each and every day for the rest of their lives.
“Here comes the bride,” someone shouted.
Everyone stood.
And Gabe stood a little straighter. A big smile spread across his face when his
bride’s carriage rolled to a stop.
Sara waved and blew him a kiss.

“I NOW PRONOUNCE you—” the pastor stopped when Ben suddenly left his place
between Gabe and Sara and motioned for the man to bend down.
Whispers skipped across the waiting crowd.
When the pastor straightened, he winked at Ben and said, “I now pronounce you
husband and wife forever this time.”
Everybody clapped and cheered.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
This time, Gabe did kiss his bride—thoroughly.
Sara couldn’t have been happier as she took Gabe’s arm and walked down the long
aisle between the two sections of folding chairs lining their front lawn. Ben
ran on ahead. Eager, Sara knew, to show Junior the large feast waiting behind
the house and, of course, the wedding cake.
But she felt Gabe stiffen when they reached the last row of chairs. He
whispered, “What’s she doing here?”
Sara pulled him along until they were far enough ahead of the crowd following
not to be overheard. “I invited Ronnie and Charlie to the wedding,” Sara
confessed. “In fact, I delivered the invitation to the Flying-K in person.”
Gabe laughed. “Only to gloat, I hope.”
“Maybe just a little,” Sara admitted. “But no one in town has spoken to Ronnie
since the day she broke my window. I wanted to put an end to that nonsense. I
know what it’s like to be the outsider, Gabe. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
Not even Ronnie.”
Gabe pulled her to a stop, the expression on his face filled with more love than
Sara had ever seen. “I love you, do you know that?”
“Yes,” Sara said, “and I’ll never doubt it again.”
She was a Coulter.
At last, she was home.