Crazy for the Cowboy

Crazy for the Cowboy [Love at the Crazy H Series] by Cindy Spencer Pape The Wild Rose Press www.thewildrosepress.com ...

Author: Pape Cindy Spencer

29 downloads 732 Views 561KB Size Report

This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
Report copyright / DMCA form

DOWNLOAD PDF

Crazy for the Cowboy [Love at the Crazy H Series] by Cindy Spencer Pape

The Wild Rose Press www.thewildrosepress.com

Copyright ©2007 by Cindy Spencer Pape

NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

Distributed by Fictionwise.com

2


"You said that last night was your first time." He spoke slowly and quietly, but she didn't miss the slight hesitation as he said the words. He was uncomfortable too, which for some reason made her feel better. "Can I take that to mean that you're clean, disease-wise?" "Yeah." That one was easy, if just a tiny bit insulting. "I give blood regularly, so I've even been tested in the last three months." "Good." His broad shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch. "I'm clean, too. Department policy requires a check-up every six months, and there hasn't been anybody since the last one." He paused for a second. "And I give blood, too. As often as I'm allowed." Of course he did. He was Mr. Responsible, after all. She'd never doubted for a moment that he was disease-free. Not from the first conversation they'd had this morning, anyway. Ree knew this conversation was necessary, knew it was part of the modern-day sexual etiquette that she'd never had reason to practice. But she was still too embarrassed to meet his eye. "Thanks," she mumbled instead. "But there's something else we need to get out in the open." The tiny crack in his voice over the word 'else' was the only sign she had that he was at all rattled. And he'd probably blame that on his cold, if pressed. "Last night, neither of us was exactly thinking clearly..."

3


Praise for The Cowboy's Christmas Bride, Book One of "Love at the Crazy H" "What an unbelievable book this is! I am so glad to have been privileged to read it! I loved the concept, the plot, the flow of the characters, and the outcome. I literally read this in less than one day; it was so good I just could not put it down."—The Romance Studio "The genuine emotions emanating from the characters had me both laughing and crying. Ms Pape has me yearning for more of this intriguing family."—Romance Junkies "Cindy Spencer Pape sure knows how to tempt a person to be stranded with a cowboy!"—Fallen Angels Reviews "Recommended Read: I stayed up with toothpicks in my eyelids so I could finish The Cowboy's Christmas Bride, because I couldn't put it down."—Author Judith Rochelle

4


Love At The Crazy H Crazy For The Cowboy by Cindy Spencer Pape

5


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. Love At The Crazy H: Crazy For The Cowboy COPYRIGHT © 2007 by Cindy Spencer Pape All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Contact Information: [email protected] Cover Art by Tamra Westberry The Wild Rose Press PO Box 706 Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706 Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com Publishing History First Yellow Rose Edition, February 2007 Print ISBN 1-60154-043-4 Published in the United States of America

6


Dedication For Wayne Arthur Spencer, 1951-2005. Because big brothers rock.

7


Chapter One It was a miserable end to a miserable day. Fitz Hall stumbled up the stairs to his apartment over the book store, but turning on a light switch was more than he could manage. It was after three in the morning; it was five below zero, and there were thirty-mile-an-hour winds howling through the streets. His bad cold had gotten even worse, so his head was pounding and his body was racked with chills. To top it all off, he'd just finished dealing with a four-car pile-up on the interstate. Fitz hated accident scenes. They were the absolute worst part of working in law enforcement. Give him a good, old-fashioned shoot-out any day of the week. Those at least made some sort of sense. Car accidents killed far too many kids. He fumbled his key into the lock on his apartment door and wriggled it open. Once he got inside, he kicked the door shut and headed straight toward his bedroom, shedding his clothes as he went. Since his fingers were still stiff from the cold, the buttons and zippers fought back some, but Fitz didn't care. He pulled his uniform shirt over his head, not even registering the rattle of popped buttons bouncing around on the hardwood floor. Inside his bedroom, he got his belt undone and put his sidearm in the nightstand drawer. After two tries, he got his pants unzipped, then stopped to toe off his boots, and kick off his pants before falling into bed. He passed out before his head even hit the pillow. **** 8


Ree Jakobowski was having the best dream ever. She'd always wondered what a sex dream was like, and now she knew. It felt warm and solid. It smelled like smoke and sweat, and tasted like stale coffee. Wow, who knew dreams came with taste and scent? While most of her brain was enthusiastically returning her dream man's feverish kisses, some small corner of her consciousness was sitting back and taking stock of the details, hoarding them to replay over and over on lonely nights. There were no streetlights casting their glow through the window, and the storm clouds blocked any light from the moon or stars. The utter blackness was disorienting to a city girl like Ree, unused to total darkness, but she focused on her other senses till she got her bearings. Sure enough, even in her dream she was in the slightly lumpy king-sized bed in her great-uncle's apartment. The antique quilt was pushed down around her waist, and her cheek still rested on the softness of the worn flannel pillowcase. She still wore the oversized Wayne State University tee shirt she'd had on when she'd crashed after finally getting Uncle Harry's clothes packed up. Everything was exactly as it had been when she'd fallen asleep. Except that now she wasn't alone. She was absolutely sure she had been when she'd gone to bed. Therefore, this had to be a dream. Even if it was the hottest, clearest, most realistic dream she'd ever had.

9


The warm, hard body beside her stirred, and Ree quit thinking altogether. Long, strong fingers curved around her waist, drawing her closer to the source of the heat. She went, blessing whichever goddess of dreams had chosen to send her this particular model. Her feet were tangled around his knees, so he had to be tall. His smooth, damp skin covered well-sculpted, rock-hard muscles. Ree buried her nose into the valley between his pecs, wrapped her arms around his neck, and held on for dear life as his big hands began to explore the curves of her back. When he nuzzled her hair and moaned, she lifted her face for his kiss. Wow, what a kiss! His lips were soft and pliable, but they moved across hers with strength and dedication to purpose. When he teased her lower lip with his tongue, she opened her mouth and welcomed him in, instinctively opening her legs at the same time, and shifting to lie on her back. With out breaking stride for a moment, he came down onto her, his hips cradled between her thighs, his long, thick erection pressing hard against her. She could feel her pulse pound in time with his as her body begged to be filled. By him. He still hadn't broken the kiss, but he lifted himself up on one elbow so that his other hand could roam. Talented fingers found her breast, cupping and shaping it. She'd always considered them way too full and droopy, but judging by his soft hum of pleasure, he didn't mind. Of course, that's probably because it was her dream, but it made her feel sexy and attractive nonetheless. He drew little circles with his thumb, gradually drawing closer and closer to the nipple, which had been standing at attention, desperate for his touch. 10


She whimpered, a little high-pitched sound that would have embarrassed her if this was real. Her dream man, however, must have approved. He pulled his mouth away from hers and murmured, "Oh, yeah," in a husky, raspy voice that skittered along her nerve endings like another caress. Before she could pull his head back down to hers, he'd shifted just slightly, and was kissing his way down her throat. Hmmm. Maybe she'd let him keep going after all. Her subconscious apparently knew what her body wanted. He sucked lightly at the base of her throat, and streaks of lightning shot all the way through her. Then he moved even lower. The first touches of his tongue were gentle swirls, and Ree had never experienced a feeling so beautiful. She tangled both hands in his thick hair and held his head to her breast as he licked, then slowly, gently drew her nipple between his lips. A small series of tremors shuddered trough her body. Was that an orgasm? The shock brought her fully awake; her eyes popped open, though she still couldn't see in the darkness. But he was still here. She almost screamed. Who was this man whose talented mouth was making her writhe beneath him on the bed? Then he switched to the other breast, treating it to the same thorough attention. And she wasn't sure she cared. His erection was prodding between her legs, sliding against her wet curls, and her hips were lifting, angling for something more. Something deeper, more fulfilling. 11


Ree believed in Fate. She didn't know why this man was here, in her bed, but she was sure, somehow, that this was supposed to happen. It was just—well—right. This wasn't a rape; she was sure of that much. His actions had nothing to do with power or domination. He was obviously a gift. And if she rejected that gift right now, she might never have another chance. She refused to think about consequences, moral or physical. She was twenty-nine years old and a virgin. In a few minutes, she wouldn't be. She slid her hands down his back to his waist, lifting her hips off the bed to meet his. He must have gotten the message, because he moved up and off her a little, then slid one hand down her body. "Yes," she moaned, desperate for his touch. He stroked gently, exploring her with his fingers. She spread her legs wider, drew her knees up. She could feel him shake, knew he wanted this as much as she did. "Please," she murmured. "I need this. I need you. Now." He feathered kisses on her cheeks and forehead while he used his hand to position himself. She felt the pressure, wondered for one long moment if he was actually going to fit. Somehow it seemed bigger than she'd expected. She closed her eyes, gripped the flannel sheet tight with both fists, and raised her hips. Then in one powerful surge, he shoved inside. **** The scream woke Fitz fully out of his semi-sleep. Where in the hell was he, and who in the hell was he with? 12


Make that who the hell was he in? Because he seemed to be buried deep inside someone warm and soft and sexy. Whoever she was, she had her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. There was something nagging at his brain, something not quite right about the sounds she was making, but his wavering consciousness couldn't quite get a grip on it. Judging by the way his head was pounding, he was going to have a massive hangover tomorrow, but the way this lush little thing felt beneath him, it was probably going to be worth it. She was whimpering a little, and wriggling beneath him. She was unbelievably tight, and the snug clench of her muscles around him was enough to overpower any worries on his mind. He groaned in pleasure and withdrew partway. She cried out again when he thrust back in, a little deeper this time. "Oh, yeah," he moaned, speeding up. He wasn't going to last long, which was probably good, since his head was still fuzzy. He didn't want to embarrass himself by passing out on her. She was probably a little tipsy too, he thought, if they'd been drinking together. She faltered now and then, as if she didn't know what to do. He didn't speak, just kept up the steady glide. Out slow, in hard. It took her a while to catch on to the rhythm, but once she did, she was a firecracker, wrapping her legs around him and holding on, meeting him thrust for thrust. She was practically crying by the time her body stiffened. Her nails dug into his shoulder and her breathing started to fracture. Fitz knew he was close himself, so he speeded up, 13


then bent his head and nipped the tender skin where her shoulder met her neck. She screamed and shattered. When she convulsed around him, he was done for, and he pumped into her with everything he had. Then the world started to spin and he fell back to the pillows, managing to twist so he didn't squish her. He really hoped that by morning he could remember her name. **** Well. That hadn't been what she was expecting. Of course, she wasn't sure exactly what she'd been expecting, but having her partner pass out on her was definitely not on the list. Ree lay there on her back, her legs still tangled with the longer limbs of the man who had just made such passionate love to her and then fallen asleep. Oh, Lord, what had she just done? She closed her eyes, blinking back tears, as a wave of nausea swirled through her stomach. She'd just had sex with a total stranger. Really great sex, by her estimation, but then again, she had nothing to compare it to, except for the little silver dolphin vibrator her friend Lindsay had given her for Christmas two years ago. Flipper paled in comparison to the real thing. More to the point, she'd just had unprotected sex. With a stranger. A new pinnacle of stupidity, even for her. 14


The stranger shifted onto his side, and pulled Ree closer into his arms. He still felt wonderful, though she wasn't used to snuggling, and was a little too warm. She kicked the quilt back and tucked the sheet around her breasts, leaving her shoulders bare. She was tired, she told herself, and this might be her one chance to sleep with a sexy, naked male. It would be a shame to waste it. Her worries would still be there in the morning. She lay with her back spooned up against him, her head tucked under his chin. Maybe, she thought wistfully as she drifted off to sleep, maybe she'd wake in the morning to discover it had all been just a dream after all. **** It hadn't been a dream. Ree woke up next to the stranger, feeling hot, sticky, and sore. Uh-oh. Dreams didn't usually hurt. She sat up, looked down at her legs, which she'd apparently kicked the sheet off of in her sleep. Well then. That settled it. Dreams definitely didn't leave blood smeared on your thighs. Most importantly, dreams weren't still snoring roughly and tossing restlessly in the bed bedside you after you woke up. Nope, no doubt about it, the red-hot lover of the night before was still in Ree's bed and was still putting off enough heat to melt an igloo. Well, Rhiannon, you're no longer the world's oldest virgin. 15


Cautiously, Ree eased herself away from him. She didn't really want to move, but she had to get her head together, and she had to go to the bathroom. Her whole body ached from the unaccustomed exercise, and the area between her legs stung more than a little. She hobbled across the room and snagged her great-uncle's fleece bathrobe from the hook on the closet door as she passed. It was way too long, and printed with little moose, or deer, she wasn't quite sure, but since it had looked so cozy and still had the tags on it, she hadn't boxed it up for charity with the rest of his clothes. Though a long, hot bath sounded appealing, she didn't want him to wake up and find her naked. So she settled for a quick shower, washing away at least the outward evidence of the night before. Then she dried off with one of the thick blue towels from the linen closet. Her uncle had apparently had good taste in linens, so she hadn't bothered to unpack her own well-worn pink ones. She wrapped a second towel around her damp hair, and tiptoed back into the bedroom to check on her guest. Still asleep. Good. Ree had no idea how to handle a morning after. What were you supposed to say? Sorry I didn't get your name didn't seem like the best possible choice. She padded over to the tiny galley kitchen. It was open to the living room, which was small, but pleasant and functional. She was glad the furniture was nice, since she was pretty sure she couldn't afford new. Of course, she wouldn't even know exactly what she could afford till she talked to her uncle's attorney, and that wouldn't be till tomorrow morning. Nothing in this town, it seemed, was open on the weekend. 16


She shook herself. Time to move, Rhiannon. Tea was a necessity. She started hot water, using her own kettle since her uncle hadn't seemed to own one. The apartment had been very much a bachelor pad. She'd spent all day yesterday boxing up her uncle's clothes and cleaning his toiletries out of the bathroom. She'd left the books and the collection of country music CD's, as well as a few other personal items. Even though he was gone, she felt a powerful need to get acquainted with this relative she'd never known she had. As she waited for the kettle to boil, Ree paced and fretted. Finally, she decided that breakfast would be a good icebreaker, so she opened the pantry and reviewed her supplies. The grocery store in town had been open yesterday, but their selection hadn't been exactly what Ree was hoping for. Still, she had flour and eggs and some dried blueberries she'd splurged on. Since there had been real maple syrup in the fridge and a large cast-iron griddle was hanging over the stove, she guessed pancakes were the order of the day. Cooking always helped her relax, as long as nobody was looking over her shoulder and criticizing how she did it. She was even humming by the time she pulled the first batch off the griddle, stacked them on a chipped ironstone plate, and popped them in the oven to stay warm. An hour later, she wasn't humming. She'd eaten two of the pancakes herself, washing them down with her favorite emotion-soothing herbal tea. He still hadn't woken up. She wandered into the living room, and put her ear to the bedroom door. He was still snoring. All her clothes were in 17


there, so she hesitated, wondering what to do. While she debated, her eyes roamed around the tidy living room she'd spent all day yesterday cleaning. The clothes on the floor had to be his. She'd been so zoned this morning that she hadn't noticed the trail of garments leading from the front door into the bedroom. A dark leather jacket with a fur collar lay on the floor right beneath the row of hooks. Apparently he'd gone to hang it up and missed. A dark brown Stetson hat hung crookedly above it. Without conscious thought, she stepped over to the door and picked up the coat. It was big, heavy, and still damp. Acting more on instinct than thought, she lifted it to her nose and sniffed. Nope, no question who this belonged to; the scent of the man had been imprinted on her brain. Smoothing out the wrinkles in the leather, she hung it on the hook, then blinked when she saw the brass badge attached to the front. Crow County Sheriff's Department. Holy cow, she'd slept with a cop! Turning back toward the bedroom door, she followed the trail of discarded clothing. It looked like he'd peeled it off while making a beeline toward the bedroom. How had he known she was there? Come to think of it, how had he gotten in? She could have sworn she locked the door. Could cops pick locks? She guessed it made sense. The next garment was a uniform shirt. Buttons had been torn off, like he'd stripped in a hurry. His nametag was still attached, and it clearly identified him as Sheriff F. F. Hall. Great, he was the big cheese, himself, not even a lowly deputy. Well, now she knew his name, or at least part of it. She folded the shirt, then got down on her hands and knees 18


to collect the buttons. She found three, but by counting the buttonholes, it seemed that one last button still eluded her. She tucked the buttons into the pocket of her robe, then eased open the bedroom door. Sure enough, there was the rest of the trail. A thermal undershirt was tossed between the door and the bed, followed by a pair of very large cowboy boots. Finally, she collected heavy wool socks and a pair of flannel-lined pants of heavy khaki denim, with a pair of cotton boxers and a set of long johns still tangled up inside. She gathered the garments quickly, hardly daring to look at the inert figure on the bed, before moving back out into the living room. Judging by the length of the clothes, he was every bit as tall as she'd imagined in the dark. Maybe even as tall as her uncle had been. She'd noticed that as she'd packed up his clothes. She sat down hard and gasped as a terrible thought struck her. What if they were related? What if the man she'd just slept with was actually her cousin? She squeezed her eyes shut against a brief wave of nausea. It couldn't be. Her uncle had made no mention of a son in his will. Surely that meant he didn't have one. Maybe they just grew them tall out here. No! She wasn't going to think about it. Not now. Now at least she had something to do. There was a small washer-dryer combo in the bathroom. He could at least have clean underwear and dry pants when he left. She snuck out of the bedroom without disturbing him, thank heavens. When the clothes were dry and he still wasn't awake, she started to get worried. She twisted open the bedroom door 19


and peeked in again, this time to find him half-sitting in bed, face drawn and eyes closed. Then he let out a racking cough and nearly doubled over. She stepped closer, waited till he was finished. When he collapsed against the headboard, she laid her palm against his forehead. "You're burning up." "No kidding." His voice was a hoarse rasp, then he broke into another bout of coughing. She stood by, helplessly, till he was done. "Is there someone I could call?" she asked, sitting beside him on the bed. When she noticed him shivering, she tugged the comforter up from the foot of the bed and watched as he burrowed into it. "I could drive you to a doctor's office." If there was one open on Sunday in this town. "No, it's all right. It's just a cold." "Maybe. And maybe not. That cough sounds pretty bad." "Asthma when I was a kid," he rasped. "Colds always get me in the chest. Some decongestants, some aspirin, some sleep, and I'll be fine." "I don't have any decongestants or aspirin," she told him. "I could go get you some." "In the medicine cabinet," he told her. "I'll get 'em in a minute. I need to use the facilities anyway." Hmmm, apparently he was more disoriented than she'd thought. "Would you mind grabbing me a pair of sweats out of the top drawer? I have vague memories of seeing you naked last night, but it's kind of cold in here for streaking." 20


"I'm sorry," she said, trying for the soothing tone she'd used on her grandmother during her crankier days. "I'll get you a robe." She gestured to where she'd draped the printed fleece over a chair. "Why not the sweats?" "I don't think you understand, Sheriff Hall. There are no sweatpants in the dresser. This is my apartment." He started to speak, broke out coughing again. When the spasms subsided, he looked up at her with a suspicious glare. "Look, miss, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but it isn't going to work. I may be sick, but I'm not delirious. This is my bed, my furniture, and that's my butt-ugly bathrobe. In short, who are you, and what the hell are you doing in my apartment? **** Fitz closed his eyes, wondering briefly if his head was liable to actually explode. It felt like a herd of elephants was tapdancing on the inside of his face, and his chest felt like he'd inhaled a barrel of acid. He needed to go to the bathroom, he needed a shower, and he needed some cold meds. But most of all he needed to know what the hell was going on. The woman in his bedroom was cute, very cute, but he had no idea how she'd gotten here. He remembered coming home last night after working the accident scene. He'd definitely come home alone. But he also remembered something about having those soft curves beneath him. So who was she, and what was she up to? 21


"It can't be," she argued. "I had a key. The lawyer sent it. And I've been here for two days. I'd have seen you before now." Her words were swirling around in his brain, faster than he could follow them. And he really had to go. He held up a hand. "Wait. Robe. Bathroom. Then we talk." She opened her mouth like a fish, but didn't make any sound. Finally she nodded and handed him the robe. Then she turned her back and fled. He noticed the stacks of boxes in the living room as he passed through, but he didn't have time to stop and examine them. His bathroom looked like a hurricane had hit it. A decidedly feminine hurricane. Bottles of pink goo lined the edge of the tub, and strange tubes and implements were scattered across the sink. The towels were still his, but that was about it. A quick look in the medicine cabinet proved his worst fears. All his stuff had disappeared. No aspirin or cold medications to be seen. No toothbrush or deodorant, either, for that matter. Damn! He needed a shower desperately, but he didn't trust the pink stuff, since he didn't want to smell like a flower garden. Rummaging through the linen closet, which now held a strange mix of his belongings and somebody else's, he unearthed a wrapped bar of Ivory soap, so he used that to wash everything, including his hair. There was also an unopened toothbrush, so he helped himself to that as well, wincing at the taste of the all-natural baking soda toothpaste. 22


His uniform was neatly folded and still warm atop the dryer. The shirt was missing some buttons, so he left it hanging open over his thermal undershirt. He skipped the long johns, but having his own pants gave him back a tiny bit of dignity. By the time he was dressed, he'd exhausted all his available energy. He'd also come up with a good guess about the identity of the woman he'd left in his kitchen. He wasn't up to dealing with it now, but he didn't really have a choice. She was curled up on his sofa, nibbling on her lower lip, her vivid green eyes as wide as dinner plates. Rich auburn curls tumbled past her shoulders, almost to her lap. He tried for a reassuring smile before he flopped into his recliner. Thank god she hadn't got rid of that. Probably hadn't had time. He closed his eyes against the pounding in his skull. "I made you some tea," she offered softly. "I'll go get it." She slipped away, then returned from the kitchen with a mug of something green. Fitz eyed it suspiciously. "It's got lungwort and pennyroyal in it," she told him. "And chamomile. It will help with your cough, make your throat feel better." Herbs. Great. He should have figured, based on the 'all natural' junk in the bathroom. Not only was he here with a stranger, she was obviously a new-age nut-job stranger. Still, he was thirsty, so he cautiously sipped the brew. It wasn't too bad. Or maybe his taste buds were just out of whack from the cold. Either way it was warm and wet, and felt good on his inflamed throat. He took another sip. "My grandmother had emphysema. I used to give her that all the time." 23


"Yeah, but did she actually drink it?" His voice was still rough, but his throat did feel a little better. Unwilling to admit that the stuff might actually work, he attributed the improvement to the steam from the shower. A ghost of a smile flitted across her elfin features, as she toyed with one long coppery curl. "Sometimes," she admitted. "She only threw it at me once or twice." He saw a rueful grin twist her lips as she added, "a week." That startled a laugh, which turned into a cough. He set the mug down to avoid spilling it. "You really should be back in bed." She looked worried, with her forehead all wrinkled up. Either she was truly concerned or she was a great actress. Unfortunately, he had to assume the latter, at least till he had more information. "You planning on staying there with me?" Her blush was instant and total. Even though her sweater and skirt covered everything from the neck down, he'd bet that the red went all the way to her toes. Her skin was milky pale and lightly dusted with freckles, so the flush showed brightly against it. "Look, sheriff—" "I'm sorry, miss—" They spoke at the same moment, stopped simultaneously, too. Her face was downcast, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were turning white. Fitz shifted uncomfortably. "About last night," he continued, forging ahead. "It must be the fever, but I've got to admit, I don't remember much about what happened." 24


"I'm not very sure myself," she admitted in a tiny voice. "But there's one thing I've gotta know, before we go any further." She looked up at him with those big, green, puppy eyes, and Fitz had to look away, clear his throat before he could finish. "I didn't, well, force you, or anything, did I? Whatever happened, please tell me it was consensual!" **** She was so stunned by his question that at first she couldn't speak. That was what he was worried about? As soon as she found her voice, she hastened to reassure him. "No. No force. Not at all." His shoulders dropped and he sagged back in his chair. Ree gulped a big breath, the forced herself to continue. "I'll admit, that at first, I was asleep, and I sort of thought you were a dream." She looked into his deep brown eyes, which were as sinfully rich as Belgian chocolate. They were bright with fever, but she could see his exhaustion in the dark circles beneath. She had to look away before she could admit to the truth. "But only for a minute or two. I was awake for the rest, and, to my eternal embarrassment, I was a very willing participant." He sighed long and loud. "Thank God!" Then he scrunched his eyebrows together. "But I'd swear I remember a scream." She felt her skin flush again, cursed her too-ready blushes. "I'm—sorry. It just sort of stung for a second." "God, I'm sorry!" Then he thought for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. She could tell he was still muzzy 25


from the fever. "Jesus, there was some blood. I really hurt you didn't I? Are you all right?" "I'll be fine," assured him, playing with the pleats of her broomstick-style skirt. "It was just..." She closed her eyes, swallowed hard. "It was just my first time, that's all." "Your what?" He'd probably meant it to come out as a bellow, instead his last word was more of a croak. He gulped some more of the tea as he glared at her. "My first time." Her own voice was little more than a squeak. "I'm sorry," he repeated, hanging his head, and rubbing his hand across his dark crew-cut. "All I can figure is that you were already asleep when I got home, and I was too out of it to notice somebody else in the bed. Then, somewhere in the middle of the night, we just sort of woke up in bed together and nature took its course." She nodded. "I think that's what happened. But how did you get in? I know I locked the door." "It's my apartment," he insisted. "I have a key." She shook her head. He was obviously still delirious. "I'm sorry, but this can't be your apartment. It's mine." To her surprise, he nodded instead of arguing. "Before we go into this any further, seems like we ought to at least know each other's names. Mine's Fitz." He reached out one long arm to shake her hand. She took it, ignoring the tingle that she felt when her skin touched his. "Ree. Rhiannon Jakobowski." "I kinda thought so," he murmured. "You just inherited the store from Harry Broome, didn't you?" 26


"Yeah," she admitted. She supposed that as sheriff, he might have a good grasp on local gossip, or something. "How did you know?" "Harry was a friend of mine," he told her, and the look of sadness that flitted across his craggy features leant credence to the words. Thank heavens, at least he wasn't her long-lost cousin! "I'm sorry," she told him, meaning it. "He was my greatuncle, I guess, but I never knew him." The sheriff—Fitz—seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding. "Harry talked about you. A lot. Believe me, he wanted to meet you, wanted it very much. But he'd made a promise not to contact you." "You're kidding, right? Who would want him to promise that?" "Have you met with his attorney yet?" "No." She shook her head. "I only got here Friday afternoon, and apparently he's out of town till Monday." "I'm pretty sure that Harry left you a letter. One that should explain everything." This just kept getting weirder. "Okay then." "But one thing you need to know now." His scratchy voice was getting weaker, and she knew she'd just about worn him out. Intruder or not, she was putting him back to bed for a while. They could talk later, when he didn't look like death warmed over. "What's that?" "Harry didn't live here," he rasped. Ree's jaw dropped. "He lived down the road with his lady-friend, Lily. He rents this 27


place to me."

28


Chapter Two It really was his apartment. Sort of. Of course, it was also sort of hers. She owned it, after all. She mulled that over while he slept the afternoon away. It had taken her a while to convince him to go back to bed, but after calling his office and eating a short stack of the stillwarm pancakes, he'd finally given in to the fatigue and fever, and crawled back under the covers. He hadn't even kicked her out into the snow. Yet. Though she could tell he'd been tempted. Ree had never been more humiliated in her life than when she'd had to admit to throwing out all his toiletries. At least his clothes and dishes were just boxed up. Thankfully, she hadn't had time to find the local charity thrift store. What was she supposed to do now? She'd had enough business law classes to know that if he had a lease, she'd have to honor it. That meant she'd have to find another place to live for however long the lease ran. But Shirley, Wyoming was such a little town, and she was sure she hadn't seen any apartment buildings while she'd been looking for the bookstore. What she ought to do was unpack his belongings, and put hers back in the boxes. The problem was that most of the things went in the bedroom, and she didn't want to disturb Fitz while he slept. She went into the kitchen and began methodically layering waxed paper between the pancakes. When that was done she 29


divided the pile into smaller stacks and placed them in plastic bags before popping them in the nearly bare freezer. Considering the vacant state of the pantry and fridge, she didn't think the sheriff did a lot of home cooking. Hmm. He was certainly in no shape to go out for food today. Faced with a purpose at last, Ree set to work. There was nothing more relaxing than pounding the daylights out of a pile of bread dough; she'd learned that during her years of nursing her grandmother. While the bread was rising, she chopped and sliced, glad she'd at least stocked up on veggies at the market yesterday. **** Waking up was like wading through a thick fog. None of his senses were working right and everything hurt. The only thing that registered was the sound of two female voices. Since there wasn't usually even one female in Fitz's apartment, the wrongness was enough to wake him even in his present miserable state. He was awake enough to make sure he was covered before he left his bedroom. A quick check proved that he was wearing his long johns, both top and bottoms, and a pair of his thick wool socks. Damn, he must be sick if he'd gone to sleep in all that. Convinced that he was decently if not respectably clad, he crossed to the door and opened it to find a pair of females going toe-to-toe in his living room. "Look, lady, I don't give a damn who you think you are..." his deputy, Nell Larsen was saying in her loudest, meanest cop voice. "I want to see Fitz and I want to see him right this 30


minute." She glared down at the petite red-head from her sixfoot-one height. "He's asleep," his temporary roommate hissed, totally undaunted by the larger woman in uniform. "He's sick, he needs to rest. When he wakes up, I'll have him call you." "Little late for that," Fitz rasped, crossing his arms over his chest. "Though I appreciate the effort." His macho pose was ruined by a wracking cough. When he finished he leaned against the door jamb, trying to make it look casual and not as though he need the support. "Sheriff..." Both women jumped when he spoke, called out at exactly the same time. Fitz would have laughed if he could've managed it, instead he just smiled. "It's okay, Ree," he told the little firebrand, oddly touched by her protective determination. "Nell works for me. I imagine she drew the short straw and got nominated to come make sure I was still among the living." The deputy nodded. "And to bring you food." She held up a paper sack bearing the logo of his favorite diner. "Everybody knows you never have anything to eat in this place." Ree bristled. "I made soup. And bread!" Fitz looked over at Nell. "What'd Ruthanne send?" The local café owner had taken on herself to make sure Fitz ate at least once a day. If he failed to show up by three, she usually sent her daily sandwich special over to his office. "Turkey and cheese." "Cool." He took the bag from his deputy and handed it to Ree. "Tell her thanks. And tell Doris to send over a pile of 31


paperwork for tomorrow. I should be back in the office by Tuesday." "Got it," Nell agreed. "You gonna be all right here with your—um—friend?" He shot her a look. "Not your business, deputy." Nell had the grace to blush and look away. "No, sir. Anything else you need, sir?" He thought about asking her to run to the store for cold meds, but he didn't want to explain why he was out. Besides, Ree had said she'd pick some up. Maybe she already had. He shook his head. "Just more sleep. Everything under control at the office?" "Two speeding tickets and one domestic dispute that turned out to be nothing but Ida Roberts smashing Jake's liquor bottles." "Again." Every time she got in a snit she smashed the bottles and screamed, scaring the neighbors. "Jake hiding out up in the hay loft again?" "Yup. Says he'll come down Tuesday, after his Social Security check arrives." Fitz nodded. Also par for the course. "Call if there's an emergency. Otherwise, send someone over in the morning with that stack of reports off my desk." He nodded at the door. "Thanks, Nell." "No problem, boss." Nell cast one more curious glance at Ree, then turned on her boot hell and headed out the door. Fitz waited till he heard the door at the bottom of the stairs open and close behind Nell. Then he turned to Ree. 32


"Actually soup sounds great. Could you stick this in the fridge while I get some pants on?" She took the sack he held out and nodded. "There are some sweat pants and sweatshirts in the box right next to your foot. I'm afraid I threw out the ones with holes in them." Of course she had. Well, it was nothing his sister Harper wouldn't have done if she were here. He picked up the cardboard file box. "Don't suppose you magically found my drug supply?" "Sorry. I took the trash out to the dumpster last night before I went to bed. But if you make a list, I'll go get you whatever you want, after dinner." "Fine." He paused to cough before backing into the bedroom and toeing the door shut. Why was she being so nice to him? Was she just sucking up so he wouldn't hold her to his lease? Or did she have some other ulterior motive that his fevered brain wasn't figuring out? He supposed it was even remotely possible that she just felt guilty about throwing out his stuff. Time would tell, he supposed. Since he was pretty sure she wasn't going to poison him or hold a pillow over his face while he slept, he supposed the rest could wait for later. Right now, a bowl of soup really did sound like heaven. He glanced at the clock as he pulled a pair of sweats and a Colorado State sweatshirt on over his long johns. Maybe he'd even have a cup of her funky herbal tea. It had eased his cough more than he liked to admit, since he'd apparently slept for five straight hours. **** 33


One taste of the soup had him rethinking his position on her poisoning him. It wasn't bad, exactly. It just wasn't anything he'd been expecting when he thought of the word "soup." For one thing, there was no meat. None. Not even in the broth. Growing up on a cattle ranch, he'd gotten used to beef, even in the vegetable soup. But this had none. The broth was sort of vaguely tomato colored, and there were lots of chunks of hearty veggies. With his cold as bad as it was, he couldn't really taste much anyway. But what threw him were the large, unidentifiable cubes of something white and rubbery. "Tofu," Ree told him as he stared at the clump on his spoon. "It's a healthy protein source." It figured. Went with the candles she'd already stuck all over his apartment and the herbal teas. As though he'd conjured it with his thoughts, she placed a steaming mug in front of him then took a seat across the table with her own bowl of soup. Thick slabs of fresh whole-grain bread sat on a plate between them, and Fitz wished devoutly that his sense of smell were working. He hadn't had homemade bread since Christmas. Since she was eating the soup, he figured it was at least safe. He broke off a chunk of the bread and floated it in the liquid before spooning some up. The bread hid the texture of the tofu, and he couldn't taste anything funny, so he ate some more. "Thanks for cooking," he told her between bites, finally remembering his manners. His English grandmother would 34


have twisted his ear off for being rude to a guest, even an uninvited one. He could have sworn she blushed, but maybe it was just the steam from her soup. "I like to cook," she responded quietly. "And I honestly had no idea what else to do. I didn't want to wake you, so I couldn't pack up my clothes." "No rush," he replied. Wait a minute, where the heck had that come from? It was his apartment, and he wanted her out of it ASAP. Didn't he? Just thinking about it made his head start throbbing again. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "There's willow bark in the tea," she told him. "That's the same chemical compound that's in aspirin. It should help your headache." He grunted, but took another sip. He knew that a lot of drugs were derived from plants, and right now he was desperate enough to graze if that's all that was available. It sure felt good going down his irritated throat. "Why is your tea a different color?" he asked a little later. His voice sounded smoother than it had, soothed by all the hot liquids. "Different blend. Mine is green tea with chamomile, peppermint, with a few other herbs. Yours is my cold and flu blend." "You keep special blends for different things?" He managed to keep from rolling his eyes. Harry had never mentioned that his descendent was crazy. "I keep a handful of basic blends," she admitted. "One that helps me sleep, one for upset stomachs, and so on. I also 35


keep the individual ingredients on hand, and mix up custom blends when I need to." "Where do you buy this stuff?" She grimaced. "Well I did buy it at a health-food store near my apartment in Detroit. Now I suppose I'll have to have it shipped." "No, I'm pretty sure you won't find much of this stuff in Shirley. Maybe some at the farmer's market in the summer. Some people grow cooking herbs and such." Not that he thought she'd be here by summer. Fitz knew first hand that you could take the girl out of the city, but you couldn't keep her there. Sooner or later they always ran back to the bright lights. No, he figured that little Miss Rhiannon would be here just long enough to sell the bookstore and collect her check, then she'd be on her way back to Detroit. "Thanks, I'll check that out." She toyed with a tiny bite of bread and a few sips of soup. For someone who claimed she liked to cook, she sure didn't seem to eat much. "So what do you do back in Detroit?" She'd gone to all this trouble for him, after all. He could at least make polite conversation. "I work—worked as an office temp," she replied. "I just finished my business degree in December, and I hadn't settled into a permanent position yet." That's right, during one of their talks, Harry had mentioned that she'd gone back to college after her grandmother's death. Well, he'd give her credit for that, at least. It couldn't have been easy working and going to school full-time. 36


"How did somebody as young as you end up being sheriff?" she asked him after several long moments of silence punctuated only by the sounds of his slurping soup. "Where I come from, that's an elected position, more political than police work. Our sheriffs are usually fifty, bald, and paunchy." Fitz chuckled. "It's elected here, too, but since it's a much more hands-on job in a small community, it usually goes to someone within the department. When the old sheriff retired two years ago, I was his chief deputy, and he backed me in the election." He'd actually been unopposed. That's just the way things went sometimes in Shirley. "Have you always been a cop?" She asked a little later, after a few more bites. He dipped his head to the side. "More or less. I did a fouryear hitch in the army right after college. As soon as I got out, I came home and joined the department." Her big eyes, which were almost exactly the color of newmown grass, studied him for a bit. "It suits you," she announced cryptically. Then, as if sensing his confusion, she went on. "You look like a man who's comfortable in his own skin, like someone who's where he's supposed to be." He almost spit out his soup, but he managed to contain his laugh. She was right, for what it was worth. One thing Fitz knew was that being sheriff of Crow County was exactly where he belonged. And he guessed it didn't take any newage nonsense to tell he was content. "You're lucky, you know. Knowing what you want, and being able to do it. That's a luxury not everyone has," she continued, almost wistfully. Those clear green eyes had gone 37


a little misty. Hmmm. He knew she'd stayed home after high school to take care of her grandmother, but Harry had always believed that was voluntary. Before he could reply, she'd gotten up to fetch him more tea. When she sat back down, she was bright-eyed and cheerful again, asking him about the town and his experiences as sheriff. She also kept up a subtle but steady flow of food. By the time he was finished he realized he'd eaten two bowls of soup, half the loaf of bread, and two oversized oatmeal-raisin cookies, still warm from the oven. Now he was ensconced in his leather recliner, while Ree cleaned up the kitchen. He'd offered to help, of course. "You're sick," she reminded him. "Go put your feet up, please. This won't take a minute." And it hadn't. Or else being stuffed to the gills had caused him to doze off again. It seemed like mere seconds later that she carefully placed a fresh mug of tea on the table next to him. She set her own mug on the coffee table before curling up on the end of the couch with her bare feet tucked up under her brightly patterned skirt. She looked tired herself, he noticed. Her skin was milky white and translucent, with just a hint of freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose. Dark circles were beginning to form beneath her eyes. She'd had a rough day herself, he thought, trying to ignore the pang of guilt he felt at his own role in that. "Can I sleep on your couch, just for tonight?" He looked up at her in surprise, so she continued. "You said you have a lease, and I believe you. I know I'll need to 38


find another place to stay, at least till your lease runs out, but I couldn't find anything on Sunday afternoon. I did try. I made some calls while you were asleep, but the only hotel was already full. Something about a snowmobile race." Of course! He'd forgotten all about the race, though he had his staff working extra shifts for crowd control. It was probably over by now, but most of the participants wouldn't leave till morning, or depending on how much they drank tonight, afternoon. For tonight, of course she'd need someplace to sleep. And there was an annoying little voice in his head that wanted to invite her to share his bed, instead of just the apartment. He ignored it. "No problem," he replied instead. "Thank you," she sighed with what looked like genuine relief. "I have an appointment with Uncle Harry's attorney tomorrow at eleven. I'll ask him to help me find an apartment or something. Hopefully, there's something around here that isn't too expensive." Why was she concerned about that, Fitz wondered. He was sure Harry had left her a comfortable sum. Besides, he'd always understood that the grandmother had been pretty well off, too. Surely Ree didn't need to worry about paying the rent. "Anyway, I got most of my stuff boxed back up," she told him. "I put the boxes downstairs in the back room of the store. I'll switch the clothes back, now that you're awake. I didn't want to disturb you earlier. And, of course, I'll pay to replace everything I threw away. I'm really, really sorry about 39


that." She gushed through it all in one breath, as if trying to finish before he could chew her out. He looked around then, noticed that her colorful candles and fluffy throw-pillows had, indeed, disappeared, making the place look a little less cheerful than it had this morning. He was puzzling over that when he caught her last words. "Don't sweat it," he replied. It was no big deal to pick up a new toothbrush and a stick of deodorant. He spared a thought for his stash of Jamaican blue coffee beans, but even those were easily replaceable. He looked around and realized that he had very little in this place that actually mattered. There were a few pictures of his nieces and nephews, a couple of odds and ends from either his siblings or his staff, but for the most part, anything he cared about was still in his childhood bedroom back at the family ranch. They settled into silence again, but all the things they weren't talking about sat in the room between them like a whole herd of hunter-orange elephants. Fitz tried to convince himself that he was too sick for serious conversations, but whether it was the extra sleep, or her goofy herbal tea, he really was feeling better. He could justify waiting till she saw the lawyer to talk about Harry, but there was one more important discussion they needed to have, and this one had nothing to do with the attorney. At least he sure as hell hoped not. He cleared his throat, made sure his voice was working. "About last night..." he began. ****

40


Ree jumped about a foot off the couch. She'd drifted into the nicest daydream, one that involved her, the sheriff, and a big dish of whipped cream, the really thick, high-fat kind. This time they were both wide awake and conscious of what they were doing. Oh she knew it was crazy, knew it would never happen. There was no way such a handsome, successful man would ever want anything to do with someone like her, but, hey, that's why they called them dreams. His voice, still a bit husky, but much stronger than it had been this morning, jolted her out of her fantasy with an almost audible thump. "I'm sorry, sheriff." She tried not to look guilty for the salacious thoughts she'd been having about him. "What did you say?" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he looked up and regarded her steadily, his dark eyes almost black with intensity. "We need to talk about what happened last night." "Rats!" That's what she'd been afraid he'd said. She squeezed her own eyes shut. "Can't we just forget the whole thing? Pretend it never happened?" Sure, she'd remember the beauty of that experience every day for the rest of her life, but she wasn't about to admit that to him. "As much as we both might like to ignore what happened," he began again. "There are a few things we need to get settled before we do." "Oh." Of course he was determined to be responsible about all of this. That's what she got for sleeping with a cop. She wrapped her arms around her updrawn legs and rested her chin on her knees. "Okay, shoot." 41


He winced, and she realized that that was probably the wrong word to use with a man who carried a gun for a living. But he let it go and studied her intently. "You said that last night was your first time." He spoke slowly and quietly, but she didn't miss the slight hesitation as he said the words. He was uncomfortable too, which for some reason made her feel better. "Can I take that to mean that you're clean, disease-wise?" "Yeah." That one was easy, if just a tiny bit insulting. "I give blood regularly, so I've even been tested in the last three months." "Good." His broad shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch. "I'm clean, too. Department policy requires a check-up every six months, and there hasn't been anybody since the last one." He paused for a second. "And I give blood, too. As often as I'm allowed." Of course he did. He was Mr. Responsible, after all. She'd never doubted for a moment that he was disease-free. Not from the first conversation they'd had this morning, anyway. Ree knew this conversation was necessary, knew it was part of the modern-day sexual etiquette that she'd never had reason to practice. But she was still too embarrassed to meet his eye. "Thanks," she mumbled instead. "But there's something else we need to get out in the open." The tiny crack in his voice over the word 'else' was the only sign she had that he was at all rattled. And he'd probably blame that on his cold, if pressed. "Last night, neither of us was exactly thinking clearly..." "Or thinking at all," she whispered, humiliated. 42


"I know we didn't use any physical means of protection." He stated it calmly, a fact rather than an accusation. She studied the tiny pleats in her skirt, pinching them into even tighter folds. "Rhiannon, I need you to tell me. Are you..." He only hesitated a moment before he went on. "Are you using anything? Pills, shots, whatever? Are you on any form of birth control at all?" This time his cracking voice betrayed him. The big, tough sheriff was as terrified as she was. Or at least close. That gave her the courage to look up at him. But she still had to swallow hard before she could croak out an answer. "No." He closed his eyes again, lowering his face into his hands. Ree almost shivered as she remembered those long, powerful fingers on her skin, but she caught it in time. Not at all appropriate under the circumstances, she chided herself. That kind of feeling is what got you into this mess in the first place. She dropped her own eyes back to her skirt. "How's the timing?" he asked, finally. "Any idea what kind of odds we're looking at?" She shook her head. "I'm not really sure." She struggled through a wave of panic and self-disgust. Her grandmother had told her nearly every day of her life that Ree was too stupid to survive on her own. It really stunk to think that the old biddy might have been right. "Well, when was your last period?" "A couple of weeks ago, I think." She knew it sounded lame. How could she not know? He must think she was a total space cadet. "I never really kept track because I never 43


needed to." She blinked hard, determined not to give in to the tears that stung the insides of her eyelids. "Because you've never been sexually active," he finished for her, his voice sounding almost kind this time. She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. "So we have to assume that there is a possibility that you're pregnant." His words, though softly spoken, filled the room like crashing thunder, echoing off the walls and ringing in her ears. She blinked again, but this time one stubborn tear escaped, to trickle own her cheek as she nodded. "Okay," he breathed. "So we both know what we're looking at." Then his voice hardened. "I need you to keep me in the loop on this, Ree. The minute you know something, anything, either way, you call me. Got it?" He didn't even pause. "Hell, if you even suspect something, you let me know, understood?" That seemed fair. Though she firmly believed that anything to do with her body was her decision, she could agree with keeping him informed. She nodded miserably again, keeping her head down to hide that rotten tear, as well as its companion that had appeared somehow on her other cheek. He moved so swiftly and smoothly that she felt his hand on her chin before she even saw him stand. He used one palm to tip her chin up, while he smoothed away her tears with the pad of his other thumb. "And Rhiannon, I want you to understand something. If you are pregnant, we will be getting married. I'm not asking you; I'm telling you. So start thinking about what you want to 44


wear to your wedding."

45


Chapter Three "Oh, you have got to be kidding!" He didn't look like he was, but it was all Ree could do not to laugh at his dramatic proclamation. "No, actually, I've never been more serious in my life. If there's a baby, there's going to be a wedding. It's that simple. Afterwards, you can leave if you want, but any child of mine is going to carry my name, and be born within the confines of marriage." "What do you think this is, nineteen-fifty-three? Lots of people have babies outside of wedlock!" Ree couldn't believe what she was hearing. How did he think he was going to enforce his edict, anyway? Was Wyoming so primitive he could get away with dragging her off by her hair or something? "Maybe other people do." He gave her a dark, cryptic look. "But you and I won't. So consider this fair warning. And let me know the minute you find out, one way or the other." He dropped his hand from her chin and stepped back to his chair, then dropped heavily into it. "I don't suppose there's any chance my bottle of Scotch survived your cleaning frenzy, is there?" She knew he shouldn't drink with his virus, but she couldn't lie to him, and she supposed that this conversation had been enough to drive anyone to drink. "It's in the kitchen cupboard," she admitted. "I thought maybe I could use it for cooking, or something." She bolted for the kitchen before he could move. 46


When she returned, she handed him the three-quarters full bottle and a glass. He smiled a brief thanks, lines of fatigue and stress bracketing his eyes. "Want some?" "No." She was tempted, but she shook her head. "I shouldn't, should I? Just in case..." "Yeah." He poured two inches in the bottom of the glass. "Right." Then he raised the glass to her, before tipping it back and swallowing the contents in one long gulp. A few seconds later, he filled the glass almost to the top before capping the bottle and setting it on the table next to his tea cup. "I assume you know where the blankets and pillows are." His mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Probably better than I do myself at the moment." She nodded. She knew exactly where they were in the freshly-aired linen closet. "Then I'll leave you to your own devices, if you don't mind." He stood and moved toward the bedroom door, still holding the glass of amber liquid. He paused at the last minute, and turned to face her. "Thanks for the food, and everything," he told her, just a little stiffly. "And I'm sorry your trip to Wyoming got off to such an—unexpected start. Good night, Ree." "Goodnight, sheriff," she replied. "I hope you feel better in the morning." "I'm sure I will." He smiled briefly, gave a polite nod. "And, Ree, given the circumstances, don't you think maybe you should be calling me Fitz?" With that, he stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. 47


Ree stared at the closed door for a moment. What the heck had just happened? Surely he hadn't just told her that if she was pregnant she would have no choice but to marry him? That just didn't happen in today's world, did it? She had no doubt he'd get over the idea eventually, of course. He was probably still a little out of it because of his cold. She slid a hand down her stomach and wondered. Was she pregnant? It was certainly a possibility. She knew that ovulation occurred somewhere in the middle of the cycle, but she wasn't sure exactly when. Just like she couldn't remember whether two weeks ago was when her last period had started, or when it ended. Did that make a difference? Maybe tomorrow she'd be able to go on-line and do some research. Her laptop wasn't connected to an internet provider, and his computer was in the bedroom. She didn't think it was a very good idea to ask to borrow it right now. She retrieved the spare bedding from the closet and made up the hide-away bed that unfolded from the sofa. It felt so weird to be reduced to a guest in the apartment she'd come to think of as hers for the last two nights. Too restless to sleep, she padded into the bathroom and ran a hot bath, dumping in a hefty amount of her home blended bath salts. Then she added lavender and vanilla oils for stress relief, letting the aromas fill the air in the tiny bathroom while she dug a lavender-scented candle out of her suitcase. Finally, she turned off the light, stripped to the skin and sank gratefully into the warm, scented water. After taking several deep, cleansing breaths, she relaxed against the back of the tub, and gave her thoughts permission to roam. 48


And roam they did. Starting with the room right across the hall. How had she wound up entangled with a man like that? Well, she knew how, logically. She just had no earthly idea why the fates had chosen to mix together a plain little pigeon like herself with an eagle like that. But Ree had learned a long time ago that life just wasn't fair, and the only way to get through it in one piece was to accept the things you couldn't change. She'd been given a brand new start out here with this surprise inheritance, and she wasn't about to goof it up over one night of mind-blowing sex with the local sheriff. If she did turn out to be pregnant, she'd simply have to make adjustments to her plan. That was all there was to it. Actually, she was kind of excited by the possibility. Ree had always loved children, and very much wanted one of her own someday. She hadn't planned on it quite this soon, but surely now that she had her own business, she'd be able to support a child. She didn't put any real stock in Fitz Hall's decree of marriage. He'd get over that idea as soon as he was thinking straight. Everybody knew that forced marriages never worked out. Ree's own parents had been ample proof of that. But if he really wanted to be involved in his child's life, Ree didn't think she'd have a problem with the concept. She was planning to stay here in Shirley after all. She'd taken one look at the book store the day she'd arrived, and utterly fallen in love. There was no doubt in her mind that this inheritance had been a gift from fate. She'd never felt the kind of instant rightness she'd experienced the moment she'd walked into the cheerful, cluttered shop, and known it was hers. She still 49


wasn't sure how she'd ended up with a great-uncle that none of her uncles or cousins had known about, but she was absolutely certain that it was Fate's way of answering her needs. Tomorrow she would meet with the attorney and find out more about her inheritance, more about her mysterious relation. She'd also have to see about finding an apartment, and learn when she'd be able to re-open the store. Then she could take the time to use the shop computer to go on the internet and see what she needed to know about pregnancy. She didn't drink or smoke, and her diet was healthy, so she figured if she was pregnant she had a head start in that respect. And no matter what, there was one thing of which Ree was absolutely, unequivocally certain. If there was a baby, it would always know, everyday of its life, that it was wanted and loved. No stuffed-shirt relations and no high-andmighty sheriff were ever going to be able to change that. If Ree Jakobowski had a child, it was going to be the most damned wanted child in the history of the universe. **** Fitz knocked lightly on the bathroom door, waited a moment, and then knocked again louder. Was she okay? She'd been in there for close to an hour, making no sounds whatsoever, and he was starting to be more than a little bit worried. He'd given up waiting half an hour ago, and trundled down to use the restroom in the shop. Now he just stood by the door to his bathroom, feeling like an idiot. 50


"Ree," he called, knocking again. "Ree, are you all right?" He jiggled the door handle, debating on whether to find a blade to pop the lock, since he'd never had a key for the darned thing. "Ree!" He heard a shriek, a thump, and a splash, in that order. "You okay in there?" "I'm fine!" He heard some rustling in the tub, then the drain being released. "I just fell asleep. Sorry!" How could she be so careless as to fall asleep in the tub? Didn't she know a person could drown that way? He backed away from the door, pacing nervously. Of course, being six foot six, Fitz had never considered using the undersized tub as anything other than a shower stall. "Good thing the tub's so short I was wedged into a sitting position." Her tone was ridiculously cheerful as she chattered through the door. Well then, that was better he supposed. It wasn't that he was particularly attached to her, but nobody wanted to fish a drowning victim out of his own bathtub. There was more rustling, then the bathroom door opened to reveal a very warm and rosy woman. Her curly hair was bundled up on top of her head with a plastic clip and a soft yellow T-shirt clung damply to her curves while a pair of plaid flannel pajama pants rode low around her hips. He took a step back, just so he could keep his hands to himself. "I'm sorry for hogging the bathroom. I honestly thought you were asleep." "'Sokay," he muttered, feeling like an embarrassed eightyear-old. "Just wanted to make sure you were all right in there." 51


Her brilliant smile lit up her face, transforming her from cute to stunning. "That's so sweet. Thank you!" Then she did the last thing he ever expected. She stood up on her tiptoes, and pressed a soft kiss on his chin. Considering the way his body had already been responding to the thought of her in the bath, it probably wasn't the safest move in the world. She didn't seem aware of the danger, though. She just stood there and kept on smiling at him. "Your fever is down." Her brows knit together as she laid her hand on his neck. His skin must have been cool, because her touch burned like a branding iron. "Are you feeling better?" He nodded, his tongue too thick to frame a response. "Good. You still need some rest, though. You aren't going back to work tomorrow, are you?" He had no earthly clue why she should care, but she obviously did. He shook his head and made his lips work to answer. "No. I'll just do some paperwork here at home." "Oh, that's right, you told your deputy to bring them. Good. Your body needs time to recover." Not really, he thought. All the relevant parts seemed to be working just fine. "Anyway, the bathroom's all yours. I hope you don't mind that I took a bath. There's nothing like a hot soak for sore muscles or stress." "No problem," he repeated, wincing internally as he thought about those sore muscles of hers. Some of that was his fault, and she hadn't whined at him once all day. He imagined most women got flowers, or at least a little affection 52


and pampering the morning after their first time. Instead, she'd spent the whole day taking care of him. "You okay?" he asked. "Not hurting too much, or anything?" She blushed a fiery red and shook her tousled curls. "No. I'm fine." Unable to resist a small gesture of support, he laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "You should probably get some sleep, too. You've got a busy day tomorrow." "Yeah." She sent him another sweet smile. "You too, okay?" "Deal." He nudged her toward the sofa-bed, turning out the bathroom and hallway lights before turning to follow. When she crawled under the blankets, he reached down and tucked them up around her chin. "Goodnight, Ree." "G'night." Her eyes had fluttered shut and her breathing leveled out before he even left the room. His own bed seemed awfully big and empty without her. The pillow she'd been using still smelled of her flowery shampoo, and he bunched it up beneath his head, burying his face in her scent. This was a really bad idea, he thought, lying there awake, but he didn't let go of the pillow. What was he going to do about Ree? He was still pondering that problem when his battered body finally overruled his brain and dragged him back into a deep, healing slumber. **** Ree dressed her best for the meeting with her uncle's lawyer. It wasn't her first time having to deal with estates and 53


inheritances, but it was her first time dealing with it alone, and the first time as a major beneficiary. Her small bequest from her grandmother had been handled by her uncles. If she was going to be honest with herself, she'd have to admit that lawyers scared her to death. So she was glad, really, that she'd had Fitz to fuss over in the morning. He hadn't been exaggerating when he'd told her that a day of rest would make a dramatic improvement in his health. When he woke Monday morning, his fever was completely gone and his eyes were perfectly clear. A slight stuffiness to his speech and an occasional coughing spell were the only reminders of how sick he'd been the day before. Still, Ree was glad he'd agreed to take one more day off of work to recover. She didn't want to see him back in bed because he'd pushed himself too hard. "You don't need to look like you're headed off to a firing squad," he told Ree over breakfast. Obviously she wasn't concealing her nervousness as well as she'd hoped. "Lee Wilkerson's a decent guy. He doesn't eat little girls for lunch." Little girl! Hah! Like she didn't know she had an extra twenty-five pounds she needed to drop. Still, she appreciated his concern and support. Since it seemed like the thing to do, she told him so. And then she could have sworn he blushed. He really didn't like being caught being a good guy, which struck her as being kind of odd for a cop. Weren't they all supposed to have hero complexes? She supposed she shouldn't judge all of them by her uncles. Nobody had ever accused any member of her family of being normal. 54


She'd set her crock-pot going the night before with a double batch of slow-cooked oatmeal, stuffed with cinnamon, walnuts, and dried cranberries. Fitz had taken one look at it and started wolfing it down this morning. How did someone who ate so much stay so lean? She couldn't help remembering the smooth, solid muscles hidden under his baggy sweatshirt, and she turned back to her own breakfast before he caught her blushing this time. The attorney's office was just a short walk down Main Street, so she bundled her puffy yellow coat over her charcoal gray wool suit and black dress boots. The suit was a good one, if a little on the traditional side for Ree's taste. She'd bought it and the boots at a designer consignment shop as a graduation present to herself, hoping to wear them for job interviews. Hopefully, there'd be a place to leave the coat in an outer office before going in to meet the attorney. It kind of ruined the image. This man could have a huge influence on the rest of her life, and Ree was desperately determined to make a good first impression. The street, which had been quiet over the weekend since Ree arrived in town, was busier now. Not crazy-bustling like she was used to in Detroit, but there were people dressed in everything from business suits to coveralls. They moved from store-front to store-front, or stopped to chat in front of the hardware store, which was three doors down from the book shop. She saw a group of elderly gentlemen gathered in the café, and mothers with small children were scurrying to and fro. Altogether, it was a pleasant scene, and several people even smiled or waved at Ree as she passed by. She decided 55


to take that as a positive sign, and was smiling herself by the time she entered the red brick building discreetly signed "Wilkerson and Oates, Attorneys at Law." The warm scents of nutmeg and ginger filled the air in the small reception area, and Ree spotted the pumpkin-pie scented candle on the receptionist's desk. It was a cheap, low-quality candle, she noticed, but it still added a homey touch to the office. She wondered if the receptionist would buy better ones if she had a source. Like say the local book shop. "Can I help you?" A gray-haired woman in a colorful knit dress greeted Ree with a smile. "Yes," she responded. "My name is Rhiannon Jakobowski. I'm here to see Mr. Wilkerson." And from what little experience she had with lawyers, Ree expected to be waiting a while. "Of course," the receptionist replied with another smile. "He's ready to see you right away." She stood and motioned for Ree to follow her down the short hallway. "Let me just take your coat so you can go right on in." And from that point on, Ree's world turned upside down. **** "You knew!" Those accusing words were the first ones out of Ree's mouth when she walked in the door to Fitz's apartment. Uh-oh. He looked up from the report he'd been reading. "Hello to you, too." 56


She pushed into the room and dropped a bulging file folder onto the sofa while she shrugged out of her poofy yellow coat. "You knew all about it, didn't you? Were you laughing your head off at the poor, deluded woman? Why didn't you tell me?" "Ah. That. I didn't tell you because it wasn't my place to do so. I knew Harry left you a letter, because he told me about it," he snapped right back She was really steaming, and while Fitz guessed he couldn't blame her too much, he was still feeling lousy, and even at the best of times, he didn't take well to being yelled at. "Yeah, that was some letter!" She flopped bonelessly onto the couch and pulled off her ridiculous, high-heeled boots before flinging them across the room toward the door. She hadn't thrown them hard; they settled with a pair of mild thumps on the hardwood. "I read the darned thing. Twice. Once in Mr. Wilkerson's office, and once in the café where he dragged me to lunch. I still can't quite get it through my head. How could Harry Broome have been my biological grandfather?" The anger, which had probably been holding her together, he figured, had disappeared. Now there was nothing but hurt and vulnerability in the big green eyes that looked up at him through a sheen of tears. Fitz put down his report and moved to sit next to her on the sofa. He'd seen enough shock in the line of duty to recognize the real thing from a ploy for attention. He put his 57


arms around her and pulled her sweetly curved body against his chest just as the dam broke and she started to cry. "He wanted so much to meet you, to tell you the truth," he whispered against her hair after the sobs had tapered off. "But he'd made an agreement with the woman you thought of as your grandmother. And Harry was old-school when it came to honor. Once he made a promise, he kept it, even when he probably shouldn't have." "So my grandmother wasn't even really my grandmother. That explains a lot," Ree hiccupped against his chest. "I'd bet my car that my uncles know the truth." "That their supposed sister was really their cousin? Probably. They'd have been young when their parents took your mother in, but old enough to know what was going on. You've got to remember, Ree, illegitimate children were a really big deal back then. Taking in her sister's baby and raising it as her own was a generous thing to do." "And if she treated my mother anything like she treated me when I ended up living with her, she made her pay for that generosity every day of her life." That startled him. Harry's detectives had always told him his granddaughter was safe and happy. They'd never mentioned any problems. If Harry had known there was trouble, Fitz was certain he'd have intervened and honor be damned! "So he told you the whole story?" She accepted the tissue he handed her to wipe her nose. Once the tears ended, she had pulled away from him, and was now hugging her knees on the other end of the couch. 58


Fitz nodded. "I used to hang out in the store quite a bit in the evenings after my shift. We talked." That's how he'd ended up leasing this place, four years ago when Lily had finally talked Harry into moving into her house. "Can you explain it to me? I read the letter, and the lawyer tried, but it just wasn't sinking in." "Shock will do that." He kept his tone soft, the one he used for gentling skittish horses. "Don't beat yourself up about it." "You were his friend. So tell me. How did all this happen?" "I'm not much of a storyteller," he warned. "You need my little brother Trip for that. But I'll tell you what I know." "Please." He took a deep breath. "Okay, it was World War II. Harry was in New York City waiting to be shipped overseas. Your grandmother, Alice, was there on some kind of school trip." "Church," she interrupted. "The letter said her church choir was singing at Rockefeller Center." "See, you did absorb the information," he pointed out. "You don't need me to go over it again." "Please." How could any red-blooded man resist that plaintive little plea? Fitz scrubbed his hand across his hair and continued. "Anyway, according to Harry, they met in Central Park and it was love at first sight. On the third day, right before they both left town, they found a priest who married them on the sly, since they didn't have enough time to get a license. That happened a lot during wartime, and normally there would have been no problem making it legal as soon as he got home." 59


"Right." She nodded, encouraging him to continue. "But something went wrong, and somehow she lost the marriage certificate. So when she got back to Detroit and found out she was pregnant, her parents refused to believe she was married." "So they gave the baby to her sister Ruth, and sent her away to a convent. Where she died, just a few years later." Ree interjected. "Right," Fitz confirmed. "And Harry didn't make it home till the end of the war, because he wound up in a POW camp in Germany." Fitz closed his eyes to concentrate, trying to make sure he got the details right. "So he couldn't write to her, and never got any of her letters about the baby or her parents. By the time he finally got back to the States, Alice was already dead. And the nuns had no record of her having had a baby. So that was the end of that. He came back to Shirley and opened the bookstore." "So how did he eventually find out?" Ree's voice was steadier now, but there was still hurt layered with the curiosity. "That's where I got confused, reading the letter." "I was never real clear on that part, myself. I think, somewhere in the sixties, he got the idea in his head that he had to go back through his past and make amends for any wrongs he'd done in his lifetime. He always figured Alice had ended up in the convent because of him, so he sought out her family to apologize. When he met her sister Ruth, he started to figure out that something was a little hinky. I'd guess he saw a picture of Annie, her supposed daughter—your mom. Did you know that Harry had bright green eyes? Just like 60


yours." He tapped the tip of her nose with his finger, glad to see a tentative smile flutter across her face. "Ruth denied everything, of course, but Harry hired a detective who found out the truth. So he confronted his sister-in-law." "But she wasn't really, because the marriage had never been legal." "Right. And she convinced Harry not to tell your mother. She said that Annie was a happy teenager with a normal, happy family—two parents and three older brothers—and that she would be devastated to learn that she was illegitimate. And in the sixties that was still a pretty big issue. So Harry agreed to send money every year till Annie was grown, and to never contact her, or tell her who her real parents had been." "Wow." "Yeah," he agreed. "But he did have his detective keep tabs on his daughter. Years later, when she married, had you, then got divorced, he got in touch with Ruth again, and tried to get her to change her mind. But she was more determined than ever not to let him back into Annie's world. Then when Annie died, and you went to live with your grandmother, he just went back to sending money and keeping tabs." "And all those years she griped about how much it cost her to take me in when my mother died!" Ree exclaimed. "She wouldn't even let me go to college or get a job after high school, because by then she needed nursing full-time. I owed it to her, she claimed, for everything she'd given me since I was six. What a joke!" "I'm sure the detective didn't pick up on that." Fitz shook his head and sighed. "Harry would have gotten involved if 61


he'd known you were miserable. I'm sorry, Ree. Everybody here thought you stayed home with your grandmother by choice." "Choice! Ha! The first choice I ever had was which crappy apartment to move into after she died. She left me my car, and just enough money for first month's rent and a security deposit. My uncles generously let me keep my bedroom furniture and enough odds and ends to furnish my apartment. They explained that her taking me in for all those years had used up my mother's share of the inheritance." "Son of a bitch!" Fitz swore. "I promise you, Ree, Harry would have stepped in, if he'd known any of that." And Fitz intended to have a few words himself with a certain private detective. "It's okay." She laid a hand on his arm and took a deep breath before giving him a shaky smile. "That's all in the past. It's actually pretty amazing to find out that somebody out there loved me. Everything about my life makes a lot more sense now. And Uncle—I mean Grandfather Harry left me this wonderful store, and a chance for a whole new life!" Uh-oh! She wasn't thinking about staying, was she? He kept quiet, though, pretty sure this wasn't the time to suggest she sell the store and head back east. "I mean, now I understand why I couldn't find a job in Detroit after graduation," she went on. "It was fate. I would have hated to have to quit after only three months." Yep, she was thinking about staying. Well, he wasn't going to be the one to burst her bubble, not today when she'd had enough dumped on her. After a couple weeks in Shirley she'd 62


figure out that there was not much to do and no one to do it with. Then she'd pack up and head for home without any prodding from him. "And Mr. Wilkerson says there's no problem opening the store right away," she rambled on. "Apparently someone named Lillian Armstrong worked for him part-time. She's supposed to come over tomorrow morning to show me the ropes." Fitz smiled at that. Ree was in for a treat when she met Lily. "What's that smirk for?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You know something else you're not telling me, don't you?" Busted. How had she gotten so good at reading him so fast? Well, Harry had always been good at that too, except apparently when it came to his sort-of-sister-in-law. Maybe it was a family trait. "Come on, spill it." "Nothing much," he assured her. "But I think you're going to get a kick out of Lily. She's quite a character. And she didn't exactly work for Harry." "No?" One delicate russet-colored eyebrow arched. "Not exactly," he repeated, trying not to grin. "Though she did often help him in the store, and can probably teach you better than anyone. Lily was Harry's girlfriend." **** After dropping that little bombshell, Fitz went back to working on his reports or whatever. Ree was too frazzled to 63


do much of anything, so she just sat there on the couch, lost in the whirl of her thoughts. "You gonna change out of the monkey suit?" Fitz asked finally. "And all those pins in your hair don't look very comfortable." She raised a hand to her hair, which sure enough had come more than half-loose from the knot she'd pinned it into that morning. Now the heavy mass was tugging at the remaining pins, adding to the headache she'd already been fighting from nerves and her crying jag. "Good idea," she agreed. "Then, I guess I can pack up the last of my clothes from your dresser. The lawyer didn't know of any apartments available yet, but he said he'd look into it. Meanwhile, I guess I can move to the motel. Mr. Wilkerson said the estate would pay for it till the money is all released." "No." Fitz looked almost startled by the word that emerged from his mouth. "You stay here. I can go sleep at the ranch for a while, till we figure things out." "Ranch?" she asked. That was the first time he'd mentioned that. "You have a ranch?" "No, but my brother does," Fitz answered. "That's why I wasn't here the night you arrived. CJ and his new wife were out of town, so I was staying out at the ranch to keep an eye on things. They won't mind me crashing there for a few more days." "Didn't you just say they were newlyweds?" "Yeah, so?" "But they won't mind company?" She gave a skeptical chuckle, and Fitz responded with a crooked smile. 64


"Good point. Maybe I'd better see if I can bunk with Trip. He just moved into his own place last month to get away from the lovebirds." "Another brother?" She was curious to find out more about him, since he already seemed to know her entire life history. Most of it better than she did. "Yeah, Trip's the youngest. Two brothers, two sisters. Bunch of nieces and nephews." "Wow, that must have been fun, growing up. Are you the oldest?" She thought that might explain his habit of taking care of everybody. "No, that's CJ," he told her. "I'm second, then the girls, then Trip. And as far as growing up in a crowd, I'm not sure I thought it was fun at the time, never having a minute to myself, but we're all pretty close now." "I always wanted a sister," Ree admitted. "Or even a brother. I have cousins, but they're all older, and none of them were ever interested in having me tag along after them." He didn't respond to that, so Ree went back to the subject that had started the whole discussion. "I hate to put you to any trouble, but if you really wouldn't mind staying with your brother for a few days, just till I find a place, I'd really appreciate it, though," she admitted. "I can reduce your rent, or something to make it up to you." "Don't sweat it," he assured her. "Trip will be glad for the company, and he doesn't live far from town, so it won't be a hassle. Better than driving in from the ranch." 65


He must have made a call to his brother while she was in the bedroom changing her clothes, because when she emerged, he informed her that he'd be leaving in just a few minutes. "There's no rush." She wasn't even sure she wanted him to leave. "I was going to make some dinner for us. Or I could sleep on the couch again and you could leave in the morning." "That isn't good idea, Green Eyes." There was a trace of amusement in his tone, and in his rueful smile. "I'm not sick enough tonight to ignore you being in the next room." Her heart, or maybe it was her stomach, gave a funny little flutter. "And you need some time alone, to process everything you learned today. So here's my brother's phone number, and my cell, just in case you need anything." He handed her a business card with his office and mobile numbers printed on the front. The name Trip Hall and another number had been handwritten on the back. "I'll stop by tomorrow to pick up some more clothes, and see how everything is going." He shrugged on his coat, then pulled on the Stetson hat she'd hung by the door. It made him look even taller, which she wouldn't have believed possible. He picked up a box of clothing, then paused by the door. "You take care, now," he commanded, a serious glint in his dark brown eyes. "And remember, Ree, I'm not kidding around about this. The minute you find out anything, yes or no, about being pregnant, you call my cell phone. I'm never going to make the mistake Harry did and let a child of my 66


making slip through my hands. If the answer is yes, make no mistake about it. There will be a wedding."

67


Chapter Four He was still insane, but at least now she understood a little bit about why Sheriff Fitzgerald Hall was so determined to marry her if she turned up pregnant. He'd been Harry's confidant for years, had known the grief her grandfather had suffered over losing his daughter. But she wasn't going to worry about that now. There was still a very good chance, after all, that she wasn't pregnant, and even if she was, there was no way he could make her marry him. Things would all settle out for the best, she was sure. What she did need to focus on now was the rest of her life. In specific, on the store she intended to make the rest of her life in. She'd spent a little time exploring the shop, but she hadn't wanted to delve into boxes or accounts without express permission from the attorney. Now that she had it, she could go downstairs and root around to her heart's content. Tomorrow, Ms. Armstrong would come and explain how everything worked, but today Ree just wanted to surround herself with the atmosphere and get to know the place. The tingle she felt when she descended the steps was only a little less than the one she felt when she touched Fitz Hall. This place was hers, she could feel it in her very bones. She found a feather duster behind the sales counter, and decided that her first task was easy. By dusting every book on every shelf, she'd have a chance to explore and feel useful at the 68


same time. She found a radio tuned to classical music, and she hummed along with Pachelbel's Canon while she worked. By the time she returned upstairs she was exhausted, but she had become intimately familiar with the physical inventory and layout of the book store. She'd dusted, swept, and cleaned the glass cases and windows. She'd fired up the computer and looked at the ordering and accounts systems, glad that her business degree had familiarized her with most of the basic small-business software. She'd even read through the mail that had accumulated in the ten days since her grandfather's death. She'd also decided which shelves needed to be rearranged for better Feng Shui, and which ones she was going to uses for candles and aromatherapy oils. She'd start small, of course, a few odds and ends stocked near the books on the subject. Some green plants on the window sill would brighten the atmosphere, and she was going to get a large pot for herbal tea, which could go right next to Harry's coffee urn. She was so lost in her dreams and plans for the store that she didn't even have time to think about Fitz Hall and his ultimatum. She reheated some soup, took a bath to soak away all the sore muscles and grime, and then fell head first in to a peaceful night's sleep. **** Fitz was not having a good time explaining Ree to his brother. Trip had been more than amenable to having the company for a few nights, but they were brothers, after all. Fitz had known going in that Trip wasn't likely to pass up the 69


opportunity to needle him. He did, however, hope to slightly diffuse the inquisition with an offering of food. So he stopped by Benedetto's and picked up two large pizzas to take with him. He also hit the drug store for some cold meds. The house where Trip lived now was an overgrown log cabin that had belonged to their maternal grandparents. For some reason, Trip had always been fascinated with the place, so no one had been surprised when their grandmother had left it to him, even though Trip had been living in Los Angeles and working as a stuntman at the time. Fitz certainly didn't resent the inheritance, but he was starting to feel just a little odd about the fact that he was the only member of his family who didn't have a place to call his own. Now that CJ was married, and Trip had returned to Shirley with his baby son, Fitz was the only one still living in an apartment all by himself. "So she kicked you out of your own place?" Trip asked incredulously, over his third slice of pizza. "Must be a pretty tough chick. 'Course, I guess that's what you'd expect of somebody from Detroit, right? I bet she's all slicked-back hair and tight leather pants, hmm?" Fitz knew Trip was just razzing him, but the image was so at odds with Ree that he had to laugh. "No, she's actually sort of..." He trailed off. Sort of what? How to describe Ree? Soft? Nurturing? Vulnerable? Brave? His brother would have a field day if Fitz used any of those words. Cuddly and sexy were right out. "She's sort of new age," he finally finished. "Fed me herbal teas and talked about 'energy flow'." 70


Trip laughed. "Oh, that ought to go over well in Shirley. I give her till Easter to give up and head back east." Fitz nodded. That's about what he figured, too. And he wasn't at all happy about the fact that it bothered him to think about her leaving. Since Trip was still recovering from the crash that had ended his career as a stuntman, Fitz offered to help him move around some of the new furniture he'd ordered to replace their grandmother's flowery chintz. The new leather pieces were big and heavy, so by the time they were done, Trip was limping and Fitz was coughing up a storm. But the chintz was all out in the barn, and the place, Fitz had to admit, looked a whole lot better. Fitz cleaned up the kitchen while Trip fed his baby son Trevor and put him to bed. Hanging out with his brothers had sure changed a lot in the last year, he thought, ruefully. A year ago, they'd all been bachelors, each engaged in a job they loved. Then all hell had broken loose, it seemed. First, Trip had damn near died in that accident, then his exgirlfriend had gotten herself killed, leaving Trip a single dad. Then at Christmas time, CJ had met Allie, and now the two of them were married, and would probably be expecting before long. Only Fitz hadn't had any plans to change his life-style, but then a red-headed whirlwind had blown into it two days ago, and Fitz was very afraid that his peaceful single existence was coming to an end. He'd always been the down-to-earth, responsible one of the three. The steady one, the calm in the middle of the storm. His one reckless act had been to marry a woman who 71


didn't like Wyoming. And that mistake had cost Fitz a broken heart and a seriously depleted bank balance. He wasn't about to go through that again. No way was he stupid enough to fall in love with another city girl. On the other hand, if Rhiannon Jakobowski was pregnant, he was going to marry her, whether she liked the idea or not. And he'd make damn sure that when she split, he ended up with custody. He'd listened to Harry for years, he'd watched his baby brother fight for first his life and then his son. No way would any woman ever run off with a child of his. And he knew the laws and the courts well enough to know he stood a much better chance of gaining custody if he had a marriage certificate in his hand. "Hey, zombie-boy, how about a game of Halo?" Trip's words broke Fitz out of his thoughts a fraction of a second before the dishtowel he'd launched hit Fitz in the face. Fitz caught the towel and snapped it back at his brother's shoulder, shaking his head to clear away the cobwebs. Trip was already over by the huge plasma-screen TV, setting up his video-game console. Trip did love his high-tech toys. "Think I'll pass," Fitz said, covering a yawn with his hand. "I'm gonna take a shot of cough syrup, then hit the sack." Trip eyed him closely. "Yeah, you do look like something the cat dragged in. You know where everything's at, right?" He spoke over his shoulder, already starting his game. "Yeah, I think I can figure it out." He paused behind the sofa to knuckle Trip on the top of the head. "Thanks, though." He didn't get an answer, since Trip was already busy blowing 72


things up. With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Fitz headed up the stairs. **** Lillian Armstrong was nothing at all like Ree had imagined. She'd formed sort of a picture in her mind. Someone sweet and cheerful, plump with white hair, a calico apron, and a grandmotherly smile. What showed up on her doorstep at nine-thirty sharp, however, was nothing less than a force of nature. First of all, Lily, as she told Ree to call her, didn't have white hair. Not even gray. In fact, it was a shade of platinum blonde that Ree was pretty sure nature had never intended. And she wasn't plump. The sprite who stood there in snug black leggings and a bright purple poncho couldn't have weighed a hundred pounds dripping wet. She did have a great smile, though, and she took one look at Ree before flinging her arms around the younger woman and wrapping her in a bear hug. "Oh, you've got his eyes, don't you?" She released Ree just enough to hold her at arm's length and examine her. "You're every bit as beautiful as Harry always said." By the time the introductions were over, both women had tears in their eyes. There was a scratching sound on the door, and Ree turned to check on it while Lily hung up her poncho and hat. "Oh, dear, I almost forgot! Do you like cats?" Ree shrugged. "I guess so." She'd never been allowed a pet, so the question of dog person or cat person had never 73


really come up. She opened the door to see an enormous orange cat sitting on the step, and looking in as if he owned the place. "Is he yours?" "That's up to you," Lily replied. "This is Cassius. He lived here in the store, for the most part. He's been at my house, since, well, since Harry passed. He'd prefer to come back, if you don't mind, but if you'd rather not, I'll keep him, of course. It's just that he and Tristan are less than fond of sharing territory with one another." "Tristan?" This was getting weirder by the minute. Apparently unconcerned about the opinion of the humans, Cassius stood, stretched, and wandered through the still open door. He walked over to the rug in front of the gas fireplace, sniffed, and curled up in a ball right in the center of the rug. "Tristan and Isolde are my cats, dear. And three in one house is a bit much. But it's entirely up to you; the store is yours now." Ree laughed. "I'm not sure Cassius agrees with you on that." She already liked the idea of a store cat, and she was sure her grandfather's customers would feel more at home if he was there. "Do you have his litter box and things?" "I'll bring them over this afternoon," Lily promised, smiling widely. "Now, let's get down to business, shall we? What do you think about being a small-town shopkeeper." **** The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Lily did indeed know every nuance of the business, from ordering to tax forms, and she pointed every single one out to Ree, until 74


Ree's head was positively swimming with information overload. "Of course, I'll be happy to help, dear, but it is your business, you'll want to know how to do things, eventually." The one thing she never seemed to assume was that Ree would sell the business and leave, which was what both Fitz and even her lawyer had hinted at. While Ree was stunned that the other woman was so warm and welcoming, she was also delighted by the reception, and by Lily's seeming assumption that Ree could and would be able to run the store. "And of course, you'll want to bring some new things and new ideas in," Lily continued. They'd taken a lunch break and were seated across from each other at Benedetto's, the little café just down the block from the shop. "I saw the most delightful deck of Tarot cards in a catalog the other day, and I don't know why, but I could just see them on that little corner shelf under the stairs." Ree's fork stopped halfway to her mouth. "That's exactly where I was thinking of putting some candles and oils," she told the other woman. "Maybe a few quartz crystals and so on. But Tarot cards? Wouldn't that get me run out of town, or something?" Lily made a rude sound, and Ree couldn't help but smile. "We're not quite that backward, dear, at least not all of us. I wouldn't go too overboard, of course, not at first, but who's going to object to a few lovely curiosities?" Since that was exactly what Ree had hoped to hear, she nodded enthusiastically before returning to her grilled cheese sandwich. 75


It was a little difficult to eat, though, when you knew that every other patron in the restaurant was watching you. Lily had introduced her to some, like the owner, Ruthanne, who ruled behind the counter with a golden-blonde beehive crown and a spatula for a scepter, and her dark-haired daughter who was their waitress. Ruthanne seemed friendly enough, had welcomed Ree to town, but Becky the waitress was shooting her dagger glances whenever she thought Ree wasn't looking. "Is it always like this, or just because I'm new?" she finally asked Lily. Ree was starting to get a little creeped out by the stares and whispers. "Oh, you're definitely a nine-day's wonder," her new friend admitted. "New in town, Harry's long-lost granddaughter, and from Detroit, which a lot of people assume is the most violent city in the world. Also, word did get around that you and the sheriff shared the apartment for a couple of days, so some of them are speculating on that." "What?" Ree winced as she realized how loud her shrieked question had been. She leaned across the table and whispered to Lily. "How do they know about that?" Lily gave her a fond smile. "Deputy Larsen, at a guess. Did you know she has six sisters? Anything one of the Larsen girls hears is all over town in a matter of hours, if not minutes." Ree managed to resist the urge to crawl under the table and hide. "Great. I'm in town three days, and already I'm the local slut." "Not really," Lily assured her with a pat on the hand. "People are just curious, that's all." She started to say 76


something more, then stopped, the words dying on her lips. In fact, Ree felt a chill run down her spine as she realized that the entire restaurant had gone silent. Dead silent. The only sound at all was the rush of wind as the door pushed open. Ree really wished she didn't have her back to the door. But somehow, even without seeing him, she knew who had just walked in. She heard the slap of cowboy boots on the linoleum behind her as the newcomer walked up to their table. When the footsteps stopped, Ree didn't even turn. Summoning every bit of nonchalance she could muster, she took a sip of her iced tea and smiled. "Hello, Fitz." "Hey, Ree. Lily." His voice was better today, was the first thing she noticed. Then she finally looked up. Mistake. The beast was even more handsome when his eyes weren't sunken in, and he'd shaved. "Join us, Fitz," Lily invited with a sweet smile for the sheriff. "Ree, dear, scoot over." "I just came in to grab a sandwich," Fitz replied. "I'm not staying to eat." "Yes, you are," Lily said with another saccharine smile. Her voice was so soft that Ree could barely hear her, but it was hard as concrete. "Faulkner Fitzgerald Hall, you will sit down next to Rhiannon, you will order a healthy lunch, and you will chat pleasantly with the pair of us while you eat it. After fifteen minutes, you may finish your sandwich and leave, still smiling. Is that understood?" "Yes, ma'am." He folded his long legs under the table as Ree scooted as far as possible into the booth. He sent a rueful grin at Ree, who felt her stomach flip at the sheer sex appeal 77


he projected. "Never pays to argue with someone who was your second-grade teacher." Lily shrugged gracefully. "One uses the powers one was given. Mine is that I never did tell your mother about the frog in Susan Blakewell's desk." "No, ma'am, you did not," Fitz replied. He sat as close to the edge of the booth as possible, Ree noticed, so the contact between their thighs was minimized. Her thigh still tingled where it brushed against his. "However, might I point out that it's a little late to do so now, as my mother has been gone for nearly ten years?" "Your mother may be gone, young man, but Susan Blakewell is not. Furthermore, her husband sits on the County Board of Commissioners, which is the body responsible for approving the sheriff's department budget. Somehow, I don't think you want him to find out about that incident, either." Ree tried to suppress her laugh at Fitz's chastened look, but a small giggle escaped as Fitz replied grimly, "No, ma'am." "Good, then I'm glad that's settled. How's your cold?" He raised one eyebrow at Ree, who shrugged in response. She hadn't said a word to the older woman about Fitz being sick. "Oh, please," Lily snorted. "The entire town knows you took the day off yesterday. Which as I recall, happens about once every four to five years, so we all know just exactly how ill you must have been. Are you feeling better?" "Yes, ma'am." 78


"You look good." Lily turned to Ree. "He spent nearly half of second grade in the hospital for his asthma attacks. Fortunately by high school, he'd outgrown them. But those of us who watched him fight for breath back then still tend to worry about him with respiratory ailments." "I understand." Actually, she was astounded by the concept that anyone would remember and still care about a student from so long ago. Lily was a treasure; no wonder her grandfather had been involved with her. "So to what do I owe the honor of having lunch with two beautiful women?" Fitz asked as soon as the waitress, who was all smiles for Fitz, Ree noticed, had taken his order and moved back out of earshot. Lily shook her head, as if to say he should have been able to figure it out for himself. "How many people in this café right now, do you think know that you two spent at least one if not more nights together?" He flinched visibly. "Well, old Al over there has probably forgotten already, and Jenny Lipton's only two, so she's probably clueless." That left about twenty people, by Ree's count. "Precisely," Lily agreed. "So if you give the appearance of ignoring Rhiannon, what does that tell the populace?" He nodded, then spoke slowly through a clenched jaw. "That whatever may or may not have happened was meaningless, and that she isn't worth a few minutes of my time. Whereas, if we're seen in public as friendly, the implication will merely be that we're still working out the details." 79


Ouch! Ree hadn't even thought of that. "Sorry," she murmured. "This small-town stuff is way more complicated than I expected." "Oh, you get used to it," Lily assured her. "When I first came here to teach, I expected to be run out of town before I finished my first year. I've lasted fifty years, now, and they haven't tarred and feathered me yet." "I always thought you grew up here," Fitz interjected. "You were one of my Mom's best friends. Where are you from?" "Pittsburg," his former teacher informed him. "I moved here straight out of teachers' college in the fifties. I didn't have any family back east, so Shirley very quickly became my home, has been ever since." Ree wondered why Fitz looked so startled by that, but she was busy processing other snippets of the conversation. She looked up at Lily. "Did you call him Faulkner Fitzgerald?" "Well, it is his name dear," the older woman answered with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes. Ree turned to Fitz. "How did you end up with a name like that?" He shrugged, and she could have sworn his skin took on a faint reddish tinge. "Two of my dad's favorite authors," he answered quietly. "He was into the twenties that year. It's no big deal." Actually Ree thought it was cool. The dignified moniker suited the big, quiet man. "So how'd it get shortened to Fitz?" He shrugged again. "Brothers," was all he said.

80


Fitz's meal arrived and the conversation stayed light while they ate. Lily asked after Fitz's family, and Ree learned that his eldest brother, CJ, had just returned from his honeymoon. "Allison seems like a real sweetheart," Lily observed. "Of course, I've only met her a few times. Irene Gittleman tells me that they're working together to set up an after-school math tutoring program." Fitz nodded, and Ree thought his expression looked a bit more guarded than it usually was when he talked about his family. "That's the plan, as far as I know," he confirmed. "Allie's going to do some substitute teaching until something opens up, I guess." "Good for her," Lily said. "We're always in need of qualified teachers out here. I imagine that when Irene retires in a few years, your sister-in-law will apply for that job." "If she's still here." He muttered the words so softly that even Lily didn't hear him. Ree turned to look at him, wondering about his troubled frown. "Why wouldn't she still be here?" He shook his head. "A lot of people who come out here from the big city eventually figure out that they miss all the hustle and bustle. I like Allie, and I know she's crazy about CJ, but I worry about him if she decides she can't hack life on a ranch." Lily rolled her eyes. "Just because the foolish little twit you married ran off, doesn't mean your sister-in-law will. Look at me, for heaven's sake. Moving to Shirley was the smartest move I ever made in my life." 81


"You're married?" Ree fought to keep her voice down, so the question came out as sort of a strangled gasp. "No!" Fitz wasn't as quiet, and nearly every head in the place swiveled toward their booth. He dropped his tone to a furious whisper. "I was once. For about eighteen months, about twelve years ago, in case you were wondering." Lily stifled a laugh. "Oh, watching you two over the next few weeks is going to be even more entertaining than I thought. But you might want to finish your sandwich, sheriff. One of your deputies appears to be looking for you." Ree and Fitz both turned to see a blond young man in uniform heading their way. "Turner." Fitz nodded at the younger man. "What's wrong?" "Nothing serious, sir. Just Jasper Perkins pitching a hissy fit again. Won't talk to anybody but you." "Somebody flatten his mailbox again?" The younger man nodded. "You'd think it was a federal crime." "Well, technically it is," Fitz replied, then took the last bite of his sandwich, and chewed before he went on. "Anything to do with the US mail is a federal issue. And the man is a county commissioner, so it pays to keep him happy." The deputy snorted. "Okay, at least keep him as minimally unhappy as possible," Fitz amended. He stood and pulled on his coat, before leaning over to place a quick kiss on Lily's cheek. "Sorry, ladies, but duty calls. You take care, Lily." He looked over at Ree as if he was uncertain of what to do. The corner 82


of his mouth quirked in a ghost of a grin before he dropped an equally brief kiss on the top of her head. "See you around, Ree." **** "So that's Harry's granddaughter, huh?" Fitz nodded. "Sorry I didn't introduce you." Tim Turner was the department's newest deputy, but he still deserved common courtesy. For some reason, though, Fitz just didn't like the idea of introducing other men to Ree. He was still wondering what on earth had made him kiss her like that in the middle of the café. "She's pretty, with all that red hair." Fitz shot a glare at the younger man, wishing he didn't have the urge to deck him. "I thought you had a girlfriend, Turner," he growled instead. "Fiancée, actually," Turner corrected him. "I can still appreciate a pretty face. And don't worry, I'm fond enough of my own face to stay well clear of anybody you're kissing in public. Sir." There was a definite trace of mocking laughter in that last sir, Fitz mused. The cub was starting to grow teeth, was he? "I'm seeing lots of weekend shifts in your future, Turner," Fitz drawled as they approached the double doors of their office, which was a modern addition off the back of the Victorian-styled county courthouse. "Keep it up, and it'll be midnights too." "Keep what up, sir?" Turner asked with a chuckle. "Neither one of us has said a word since we left the restaurant." 83


"You're learning." Fitz waved at his secretary as he walked by her desk, and jerked his head towards his office. "He in there?" The secretary nodded. Ah, the life of a rural sheriff. Fitz sighed, then put thoughts of pretty red-heads aside and went back to work.

84


Chapter Five She'd only had the shop open for three days, and already Ree swore, at least half the town had been in. A few of them had even bought something. Ree smiled as she re-shelved the pile of children's books left in the aisle by the four-year-old who had just left with his mother. He'd been cuter than an angel, all curls and smiles. But the sweet looks had masked the temperament of a whirlwind, at least till Ree had bribed him with a peanut-butter cookie. His mother had taken advantage of the momentary quiet to share a cup of tea and chat with Ree in front of the fireplace. Slowly, but steadily, Ree was getting to know the residents of Shirley. The only person who hadn't been in was Fitz. He'd stopped by that first afternoon to pick up more clothes, but she'd been busy with Lily at the time, and he hadn't done more than wave. Ree didn't know why that bothered her, but it did. When something exciting happened, like getting her driver's license transferred, or making her really big sale all by herself, she found herself wishing Fitz was nearby so she could tell him about it. And when something rotten happened, like being told by a candle supplier that it would be over a month before her first shipment, she found herself looking for Fitz, then too. Lily had been great, of course. She'd kept Ree company in the shop the first two days, introducing her to people and making sure that transactions ran smoothly. Today, though, she'd decided Ree was ready to fly solo, and gone off on some excursion with her Red Hat Club. 85


Ree treasured the friendship she was forming with her new mentor, who never tired of telling Ree wonderful stories about her grandfather. She felt a little guilty sometimes about intruding on Lily's grief, but the older woman assured her that having Ree to share with was actually a blessing, helping her through the loss of her partner of eighteen years. Yesterday, she'd brought Ree all of Harry's photo albums and diaries. Ree had stayed up most of the night reading the journals, and had only gotten through the Eisenhower years. She'd placed a framed portrait of Harry over the check-out desk, honoring the man she wished so desperately she could have met. "Nothing's impossible, sweetheart." The voice was just a whisper, a faint rustle on the air. Ree smiled. "Thank you, Granddad," she whispered back, using the name she'd come to think of him by. The man she'd thought of as her grandfather had insisted on a more formal title, but she'd always wanted a Granddad. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel close, feel his spirit around her in the store. It wasn't that she believed in ghosts, not really. But she did believe that sometimes a spirit might be able to reach out and touch the heart of a loved one. "I love the store, and the town, and Lily. Thank you for giving them to me." She felt a touch on her cheek, so light it could have been a puff of air or a mote of dust. But she smiled, and blew a kiss into the air, before she opened her eyes and went back to work on her inventory spreadsheet. **** 86


He didn't have an excuse for going into the bookstore. He'd been telling himself the same thing for the past three days. Three days of knowing looks and snickers behind his back from his deputies and office staff. Turner might not have told anyone that Fitz had kissed Ree in the café, but apparently one of the Larsen sisters had been there. So everyone in town knew about Fitz's new 'girlfriend.' "I'm pretty sure the sign on the door says 'open'." Fitz turned to look at the woman who'd come up beside him. His heart sank when he saw his sister and his ten year old niece. "Hey, Rainey. Harper." "Hey, yourself." Harper sent him a knowing smile. "You just going to stare at the door, or were you going in?" "Hi, Uncle Fitz." His niece blew him a kiss before turning back to her mother. "Come on, Mom, let's go! You promised if I helped with the groceries I could get the new American Girl book." "Go ahead," Harper told her daughter. "We'll be right behind you." Fitz chuckled as he watched his niece dart through the door, ponytail bobbing. "When did they get so big, Harp?" Harper snorted. "Apparently while you weren't paying attention. So tell me, why are you standing here staring at the bookstore?" "Missing Harry," he replied with partial truth. "Hard to think about walking in that door and not seeing him behind the counter." His sister wrapped her arm around his waist for a quick hug. "I know. He was a great guy. But I hear his 87


granddaughter is a sweetheart. I've been looking forward to meeting her." "She's something, that's for sure," Fitz agreed ruefully, before taking her arm. There was no way Harper hadn't heard about him spending the night with Ree before moving in with Trip for the duration. But there was no stopping Harper once she set her mind on something anyway, and at least if she tried to give Ree the third degree, he'd be there for damage control. The bell that chimed when they entered the shop was different than he remembered. The sound was softer, sweeter. He also noticed the scent of cinnamon wafting from the row of fat red candles that burned on the mantel above the cheerful gas fire. Apparently Ree had wasted no time turning the shop into her own. She wasn't behind the counter where he expected her. He looked at his niece, who was petting Cassius, Harry's cat, on the oval rag rug in the center of the store. He was glad Lily had brought Cass back, the place just wouldn't have been the same without him. "Where did she go?" Rainey didn't need to answer, because he heard a cheerful call of "Ha! Here it is," coming from the back room. A few seconds later Ree emerged from behind the door. "These just came in today," she explained, handing Rainey a book. "I haven't had time to put them on the shelf yet." Then she must have noticed Fitz, because she froze with her jaw dropped for just a second, before she plastered her smile back on and wiped her hands on the legs of her jeans. "Hi there, sheriff. Looking for something to read?" 88


"Nope, just tagged along to make introductions," he told her, nudging Harper with his shoulder. "I see you've already met Lorraine. This is Harper Dargitz. My sister." Ree beamed and offered her hand. "How nice to meet you," she said sincerely. "It's nice to see parents who teach their kids to enjoy books." "Books and horses are about the only two things Rainey pays any attention to." Fitz laughed. Harper elbowed him in the gut before taking Ree's hand. "And you're Rhiannon. I've heard so much about you." Ree's eyes took on a panicked expression as they flew up to meet Fitz's amused gaze. He shrugged. "Oh, not from him." Harper snorted. "He's about as talkative as a mule. No, I just meant that word's gotten around town that the store is open again, and so far, everyone's been very pleased with the service." Fitz had to hand it to his sister, she couldn't have come up with anything better to say to Ree if they'd known each other their enitre lives. Ree's whole face lit up in an ear-to-ear grin. "Really? Oh, that's wonderful! I've been having so much fun meeting people, and getting to know the books. This has been the most exciting week of my life." While the women chatted, Fitz wandered over to a corner shelf where Harry had always kept books on fishing and wildlife. Instead of the latest field guides, however, Fitz found a selection of something called essential oils, three decks of Tarot cards, and some cut quartz crystals, along with a selection of books explaining the uses of the objects at hand. 89


He shook his head, and hoped the residents of Shirley wouldn't give her too hard a time over it. Otherwise, the changes she'd made were small and simple. The shop was just a little bit cozier than Harry had kept it, reflecting a feminine presence without being girly. It was still a comfortable place where a guy could put his feet up and read the sports section, or a couple of women could chat while the kids looked at picture books. He especially liked the portrait of Harry she'd hung over the desk. It was an old sepia print tinted with oils, showing him in his uniform from the Second World War. Ree was certainly making a hit with Harper and Rainey, he thought, looking over at the three, who were laughing about something. There was a plate of cookies next to the coffee pot, so Fitz wandered over and helped himself, settling into one of the old leather club chairs Harry had taken such pride in. There was a pile of papers and magazines on a low table between the chairs, so he stretched his legs out in front of him, and picked up this month's National Geographic. He had stuff to talk to Ree about, but he wasn't even going to start till his sister left. "What a bright little girl," Ree commented with a smile, after Harper and Rainey had said their goodbyes. She had a mug in her hand as she slid into the chair across from him. "And so pretty. She's going to be a heartbreaker in a few years." "More than likely," Fitz agreed. "Her sister Jessie is a redhead like you, and she's already got the boys chasing her, even though she's only fourteen." 90


Ree scrunched up her nose. "Poor kid. I don't mind my hair now, but when I was in high school, I got teased about it all the time. I used to wear it really short, so the curls turned it into almost an afro." "Why'd you do that?" Her vibrant curls hung almost to her waist, and he couldn't imagine her being, well, her without them. "My grandmother made me, said my mane was too out of control to wear long." Fitz already knew head have liked to have a few choice words with a certain old lady if she hadn't already been dead. This latest story just confirmed it. "Any news?" He tried to keep his voice light, hide the fact that his gut tightened in a knot every time he thought about it. Ree blushed and shook her head. "Not yet. Sorry." He nodded, and there was a moment of awkward silence. "The store looks good." "I can't find an apartment." They'd both spoken at exactly the same time. Their eyes met and both of them smiled. "Thanks," she replied. "Lily's been a huge help. Today's the first time she left me on my own. I think I'm getting the hang of it." "Harper says people are happy. She wouldn't say that if she didn't mean it. You can always count on my sister to tell you exactly what she thinks." Ree laughed. "You say that like it's a bad thing. I thought she seemed really nice. She looks a lot like you, by the way. So does her daughter." 91


Fitz grinned. "Poor kid." Ree laughed, and Fitz wondered why it felt so damn good to be the one who made her smile. But it faded quickly and the little wrinkle she got when she was worried reappeared between her brows, making him want to smooth it away with his finger, or lips. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to find an apartment. I'm trying, I promise, but neither the lawyer nor the real estate office has found anything for rent here in town." Fitz wasn't too surprised, as he'd made a few inquiries of his own, and had come up empty as well. "No rush," he told her. "My brother and I haven't ripped each other's throats out yet. We can manage a while longer." "Okay." She worried at her lower lip with her teeth. "But I'm not charging you rent for this month. Just so we're clear." "We can work out the details later," he equivocated. No way would he let her give up a whole month's rent for just a few days inconvenience. Not if she needed the money. "Meanwhile, it seems like I owe you a few meals. Want to go get something to eat?" He didn't know where that idea came from, he certainly hadn't come in here intending to ask her out, but now that he'd said it, it sounded like a good idea to him. At least till he was sure there wouldn't have to be a wedding, he wanted to make sure everybody else knew she was off-limits. She twisted one long curl around her fingers nervously. He wasn't sure why, but he liked that the idea of going out with him made her nervous. It was good to know that she was no 92


more immune to this weird attraction between them than he was. "I don't close the store till seven." "I've got plenty of work on my desk to keep me busy till then." He felt himself grin. She wasn't getting out of it that easily. "Okay." Her smile was sweet and uncomplicated. Apparently once she gave in, she gave in with grace. "Then thanks, I'd love to go out for dinner. See you at seven." With that, she stood and walked into the store's tiny back office, leaving him alone in front of the fire, to finish his coffee and think. **** Ree debated running upstairs to change into something nicer than jeans and a sweater, but she didn't want to look like she was trying too hard. She settled for finger-combing the worst of the tangles out of her hair and touching up her make-up. But she was waiting at the check-out desk when he walked in at five minutes to seven. She wished her heart rate didn't speed up whenever she laid eyes on him. He was exactly the kind of dictatorial, rightbrained, alpha-male she didn't need in her life. She'd spent twenty years living with one tyrant, she was never going to put herself in that situation again. "You ready?" Since he was still in his uniform, she was glad she hadn't changed out of her jeans. He closed the door, sealing out the cold March wind. Then he smiled, and she was sunk. That smile could melt the polar icecaps. And autocrat or 93


not, he'd held her so gently when she'd cried. Not to mention that every single cell in her body remembered all too well what it had felt like to be pressed up against all that lean, sculpted muscle. It was all she could do not to say she was ready for anything, and drag him upstairs. Really bad idea, Ree, she scolded herself. Instead she smiled back. "Just about. It still takes me a few minutes to close things out for the day." "Need any help?" "You could turn off the coffee and tea pots." For such an alpha male, he was pretty good at following instructions. He not only shut off the electrical switches, he brought the mostly empty plate of cookies over to the desk. "I assume you didn't want to leave these out for Cassius." "Why, does he like molasses cookies?" "You've seen the size of him, right? That fiend eats anything he can get his paws on. But at least the shop never has mice." Obviously he didn't consider any of those things failings, since he'd stopped to scratch the cat's ear on his way across the store. "Eeeewwww!" Ree hadn't considered the possibility that Cass hunted at night when he had the shop to himself. She'd tried to coax him upstairs with her at night, but although he seemed to welcome her affection during working hours, he'd made it clear that he stayed where he was. Fitz chuckled, and she knew her naiveté must be amusing. Oh well, let him get his jollies at her expense. She could take it. 94


"So what do you want done with these?" He held up the plate, with six cookies left on it. "Toss them, I guess. They'll be too stale to put out tomorrow, and I sure don't need them." She logged off the cash register, and began the shut-down sequence on her computer. "Throw them out?" He sounded horrified. Ree looked up at his aghast expression and laughed. "Or you could wrap them up and take them home." She fished a large plastic zipper bag out from under the counter. There were a few more cookies inside that hadn't fit on the plate. "I've got chocolate chip for tomorrow. So you might as well take these, too." Baking a batch of cookies each night for the store had gotten to be a habit. It gave her something to do after she went upstairs, and it seemed to make the customers happy. "Cool." He piled the cookies into the bag and handed her the plate. "Thanks." "Not a problem," she replied with a smile, wondering if he'd recognize one of his own favorite phrases thrown back at him. "But you should share some with your brother, since I probably owe him an apology, too, for dumping you on him." "Trip can get his own," Fitz muttered with a good-natured smirk. Ree shook her head, thinking about how nice it must be to have brothers and sisters. "I'll go get my coat." Ree had expected to walk to the café, but instead Fitz led her to a shiny black pick-up truck, with red and blue lights on the top and a snowplow blade on the front. The cab was so 95


high off the ground that he had to give her a boost up into it. Now she was really glad she hadn't changed into a skirt. She wondered if she was imagining that his hands lingered on her backside a little longer than had been absolutely necessary. The restaurant turned out to be more of a bar on the outskirts of town. Since it was Friday night, the parking lot was crowded, and she liked the fact that Fitz parked at the back of the lot, rather than taking advantage of his position and parking illegally up front, which is what her uncles would have done in a heartbeat. After all, she and Fitz were young and healthy, so they could walk. Which reminded her... "How's your cold?" "Fine." He was out of the truck and around to her side before she'd even figured out the best way down. She took the hand he offered and allowed him to steady her as she hopped to the ground. "That's one seriously big truck." "I'm a fairly large guy," he replied. She rolled her eyes at the understatement. The top of her head didn't even reach his shoulder. "And sometimes I need to haul equipment for work or help out on the ranch. It's a tool, not a toy." "I can see that," she agreed. "I always used to laugh at trucks like this in Detroit, but out here I suppose they make sense." She did notice that pick-ups outnumbered all other types of vehicle in the parking lot, and on the city streets for that matter. Her own little beat-up subcompact seemed glaringly out of place, but she didn't care. It was the first thing she'd ever owned that had really been hers, and she'd keep right on driving it till it rusted away to oblivion. 96


Once inside, the air was warm and smelled of French fries and cigarette smoke. Several patrons hailed Fitz or waved as they entered, but none approached or started up a conversation. After a quick word, the hostess led them to a cozy table in the corner furthest from the bar, and offered to take their drink orders. "Can I get a big glass of club soda?" Ree asked. She was out on a date, sort of at least, and she wanted something that felt fizzy and celebratory. "With a lime?" "Sure," the hostess agreed easily. "Sheriff?" When Fitz hesitated, Ree nudged him with her knee under the table. "Go ahead and get a drink if you want to." No reason he should have to abstain just because she was. Although, a part of her argued, the situation was as much his fault as hers. He quirked one eyebrow and one corner of his mouth twitched. "Oh yeah? Can you drive a stick?" "Oops." She grinned. "Guess not." "I was debating the merits of coffee versus soda." His knee bumped hers right back, as he turned back to the hostess. "Bring me a Coke." "So," she asked a few minutes later as they were sipping their drinks. "How did the business with the mailbox turn out." Fitz smiled. "Same as usual. We filled out a report, promised to do everything in our power to apprehend the vandal, yadda, yadda, yadda. Then I called the road commissioner and yelled at him about his snowplow drivers again." 97


She put her hand over her mouth so she didn't spit soda when the giggle burst through. "The snowplow drivers?" He nodded. "Jasper's mailbox sits too close to the corner, and the plow drivers get it at least once a year, usually more. He absolutely refuses to believe it isn't some organized campaign of vandalism, and eventually we gave up. He won't move the box, or put up a sturdier post, just the same wood four-by four and cheap tin box every time. But he does wield some clout on the County Board, so every time it happens, we just take the reports, and ignore them." "Oh, that's priceless," she cried through her laugh. "My uncles would never admit to anything like that. To hear them talk, every second of a policeman's day is nothing but life-ordeath decisions." "Your uncles are cops?" She nodded. "All three of them in one form or another." "Well, I'll admit that those moments happen, and they're probably a whole lot more common in a big city like Detroit." She snorted. It was like him to try and defend the men he'd never met, but the weasels didn't deserve it. "One's in parking enforcement, one has retired to nothing but desk duty, and the third is the DARE officer for the local school district. He's the biggest cop-snob of the bunch, by the way. And they're all far enough out in the suburbs that the crime rates are really low. Stolen bikes and egged houses come up a lot more often than drug deals or homicides." "Whereas I get missing cattle and bar fights," Fitz replied. "But the bad stuff does find us occasionally, even out here in the middle of nowhere. Car accidents are the worst though. 98


Last Saturday night was a four-car, high-speed pile up. Those are the toughest part of the job for me. You never get used to them. They're just such a senseless waste of human life, especially when there are kids involved." "No, I can't imagine you would." She gave in to the impulse to reach across the table and place her hand on his. "Is that why you were so exhausted you didn't notice anyone else in your bed?" "Yeah." He didn't need to say more, she could see the pain in his eyes. How much of himself did this man give to his job everyday, and who did he have to give anything back to him? Instead of pulling his hand away, he inverted it so he could lace his fingers through hers and hold tight. It felt so good, she squeezed right back. They stayed that way till their food showed up, earning them an amused grin from their waitress, who had apparently gone to high school with one of Fitz's siblings. Or cousins. Ree couldn't quite keep track. She had to get used to this everybody-knows-everybody stuff. But by the time the meal was over, she knew that the waitress was named Donna, had a husband named Buck, and a little boy who would enter kindergarten in the fall. And Donna had promised to bring her son into the bookstore next time she went shopping. She'd also met almost half the other patrons, at least in the dining room side of the establishment. They hadn't gone into the bar, since neither of them wanted to deal with the smoke. Ree was shaking her head in amazement as they walked back to the truck. 99


"You really do know every single person in town, don't you?" He chuckled as he boosted her up into her seat. "Most. Kind of goes with the job." "In my neighborhood in Ferndale, I didn't know half as many people as you know here. And the population of like one square mile there is probably equal to the whole town of Shirley." "Not quite." He shut her door then was around to his own side before she could even frame he next sentence. "But you grow up with the same few thousand people around you all the time, and you get to know them better than if you're always surrounded by a million." "That is just so cool!" He shot her a weird look, but didn't say anything; he just turned on the radio. She'd never been a big fan of country music, but she was getting used to it, and by the time they got back to the shop, she was asleep. **** He wondered if he was going to have to carry her up the stairs. She was out like a light, poor thing. Fitz knew she'd been busting her butt all week to get the shop ready, and to make sure the re-opening was successful. He was pretty wiped out himself, it had been a long day, and his body was still shaking off the effects of his cold. Plus, his nephew had woken up screaming at two-thirty this morning, even though at seven months, he usually slept through the night. 100


Heaving a sigh, he climbed out of the cab and walked around to the passenger door. She was still snoring softly, so he used one finger to brush the tumbles curls back out of her face. "Wake up, sunshine." "Hmmm?" She stirred drowsily, then sat up with a jolt as the cold air brushed her cheek. "Wow, that wind is cold." Still blinking, she fumbled with her seatbelt. Once she was free, he held out his arms, and she slid out of the cab, her body flush against his the whole way down. When she landed, she was in his arms, grinning up at him. "Better than Disneyland," she joked. "Not that I've ever been there." "Poor deprived thing," he teased back, even though it really did tick him off to think no one had ever bothered to take her anywhere fun. With all the money Harry had sent, there would have been plenty for at least one theme-park vacation. Reluctantly, he pulled far enough away from her downcovered curves to walk her to the door. She unlocked the outer door to the stairwell, then turned to face him. "You want to come up? I've got more cookies." Lord knew he was tempted. "Not a good idea, Green Eyes." She nodded, her eyes apparently fascinated by the middle of his chest. The she swallowed hard and looked up at him. In the dim glow of the floodlight he could see that her gaze was unfocused and her breath was erratic. "Probably not. Thanks for dinner, then." 101


"You're welcome." He'd enjoyed her company way more than he wanted to admit, especially to himself. "Goodnight, Ree." And then it was the most natural thing in the world to lean down and kiss her goodnight. She came up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck as their lips met and tangled. Her mouth was as warm and soft and wet as he remembered in his dreams, and it took every ounce of determination he had to eventually pull away. Once he did, his own breath was wheezing in his chest, and she was leaning heavily against the door jamb, blinking rapidly. "And that's why I should go," he rasped. "Good night." She reached out a hand to touch his sleeve, then pulled it back at the last minute. Her eyes searched his face, as if she wasn't even sure what she was looking for. That was good, he figured, because he didn't have a damned clue himself. He stood and watched as she fled up the stairs and unlocked the inner door to the apartment. Once she was inside she sent him a little wave. "Goodnight," she called, before disappearing behind the door. He closed the exterior door, making sure it was securely locked. There wasn't much crime in Shirley, but Ree was too special to take chances with. He slid into his truck, fired up the engine, and leaned his forehead on the steering wheel. What on earth was he thinking? She was the big city girl, from Detroit, no less. If she'd survived there, she could certainly handle the mean streets of small-town Wyoming. He needed a drink, he 102


decided. Time for a quick stop at the liquor store on his way back to his brother's house, and his lonely bed in the guest room. What was it about that woman that could turn his brain to mush? All Fitz knew was that after Hurricane Ree blew through town, nothing was ever going to be the same.

103


Chapter Six The man was deliberately trying to drive her crazy. That was the only explanation Ree could think of for the fact that after practically jumping her bones at the back door of the shop on Friday, he hadn't even called in the three days since. She waited on pins and needles all day Saturday in the shop, all day Sunday and Monday when the shop was closed, and now it was almost lunchtime on Tuesday, and she still hadn't heard from him. She was debating what to do about that when the bell over the door chimed. A tiny little woman bustled in, brushing flakes of snow from her light brown hair. She fixed Ree with a big smile. "Hi. I'm Allison Hall. Welcome to Shirley." "Hi, yourself." Ree set down the box of books she was unpacking and held out her hand. The other woman stripped off her heavy leather gloves and shook. Okay, so this was the sister-in-law. Hadn't she just moved here from out-of-town, too? Ree tried to remember. "I'm Ree." Allison grinned. "So I've heard." Ree's face must have given away her moment of panic, because also laughed. "Don't worry, it was all good. We had dinner with Harper on Sunday, and Rainey couldn't stop talking about you." "She's a great kid," Ree returned with total honesty. "Can I get you some coffee, or herbal tea? Today's blend is chamomile-peppermint." She'd gone with a calming blend, since she was in such a crabby mood. 104


"Tea sounds great," Allison replied. "But you don't need to stop working on my account, I'd be happy to look around for a while. I've only been in here a couple of times, and haven't really finished exploring the place." "Then by all means, explore away," Ree told her. "I'll be right here unpacking mysteries if you have any questions." "Thanks." She started browsing the magazine section, but called back over her shoulder. "You have no idea how glad I am that you're here. It's a relief not to be the new kid in town anymore." "I'd heard you were from out of town." Ree kept shelving books. "And didn't you just get back from your honeymoon?" "Yep." Allison practically hummed with happiness. "Where'd you go?" "Paris." "Wow!" Ree dropped the book she was holding. "That's an impressive honeymoon." "Oh, yeah," Allison agreed with a wry laugh. "Someday I'd like to go back when we're willing to spend more than an hour outside our hotel room." Ree laughed; the other woman's happiness was contagious. "Well, congratulations. And I'm envious. Some day I hope to find a guy who makes me glow half as much as yours obviously makes you." Since Allison had a book in her hand and appeared to be moving toward the check-out counter, Ree set her stack down and headed that way herself. The other woman blushed a soft shade of red when they met at the desk. 105


"Did I say something wrong?" Ree hoped she hadn't somehow offended this woman she'd liked so much at first glance. Allison shook her head, a funny little smile on her face. She handed Ree the book she was buying, and Ree laughed out loud. "Oh! I see." She took the book and rang it up. "Congratulations!' "We haven't told the family yet," Allison confessed. "So if you see Fitz, I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything." Ree gave her a conspiratorial wink. "No problem. Haven't seen him for a while, anyway." "Oh? I'd sorta thought you two were going out, or something." Ree grimaced. "So did I, sort of." She shrugged. "But hey, I never claimed to understand the male of the species. I only minored in psych. That would take a lifetime of study." "You're so right!" Allison paid for her purchase and Ree wrapped it in an opaque paper bag. "Anyway, we're having a party out at the ranch next Sunday to celebrate my brotherin-law Trip's birthday. Would you come? I'd love to have someone else around who didn't grow up here. It would be awfully nice not to be the only foreigner." "You feel like that too?" "Oh, yeah!" Ree couldn't refuse the honest entreaty in Allison's eyes, and she had to admit she was dying to see the ranch where Fitz had grown up. "Okay. The store is closed on Sundays, so that would work. You'll need to give me directions." 106


Allison picked up a business card off the desk. "I'll call you in the next couple of days with the time and everything." "Thanks," Ree called as Allison picked up her package and turned to leave. "And congratulations, on the wedding and— everything." **** Sometimes Fitz truly wished he'd remained a deputy. Budget reports were bad enough, and he'd been holed up in his office most of the week working on those. Politics, though, was the worst part of the job. Not only was his an elected position, therefore requiring that he keep the voters happy at the same time as he tried to keep some sort of law and order in the county, but he also had to make nice to the other elected officials. Unfortunately, that included several members of the county commission, which was the organization directly responsible for the sheriff's department budget. Another personal favorite was the man sitting in his office right now, who seemed absolutely determined to sit there and prevent Fitz from getting any work done, unless Fitz agreed to his utterly useless plan. "Look, Ted, I realize that the spring festival is important to the town, but I can't commit my entire department to this parade. You get two deputies in the lead car, you get the rest of the shift, that's four deputies, plus me, patrolling the crowd as usual, and you can bring in the entire volunteer corps, if you want. That's it." It was ten minutes to five, and Fitz hadn't even had a chance to touch the sandwich from Ruthanne's that sat on his file cabinet taunting him. Right 107


now, he desperately wanted some dinner and a couple of aspirin. The man had been here for almost two hours talking about half a dozen equally unimportant issues, and didn't look to be leaving any time soon. "But it would look so impressive to have the whole department in the parade on horseback!" Ted Strong was both village mayor and the head of the Shirley Chamber of Commerce." "Yes it would be cool. And if you want, you can put every volunteer we have in a saddle, and you can even offer overtime to a few of the night shift deputies. But you cannot have the entire department tied up in one place at one time. That leaves nobody on duty in case something happens somewhere else in the county. Not going to happen, Ted." "I guess you're right." With a sigh like a deflating balloon, the other man finally relented. "But it would have made quite a statement, wouldn't it?" "I'm sure it would have." Fitz was willing to give the other man all the ego strokes he needed, just to make him shut up. "But you'll make it look good with a smaller team." Ted nodded absently, clearly already planning his new strategy. The man was a pompous twit, but he did a lot of good for the local business community, so Fitz had to put up with him. "Hey, I hear you know the gal who's taken over the book store," Ted piped up, just when Fitz had begun to hope he'd be getting rid of him soon. "Yeah, I know her a little," Fitz admitted cautiously. 108


"Haven't talked to her yet about joining the Chamber," the other man noted. "Think she'd be interested?" Fitz shrugged. "Probably. Doesn't the shop's membership carry over? Figured Harry was paid up through the end of the year." "Yeah, well, the shop still belongs. But if she wanted to take a more personal role..." "Play nice, Ted. She's from out of town, but she is Harry's granddaughter. Try to fleece her for double dues, you'll be talking to me." "No, no, nothing like that," Strong assured him. "Not trying to hit her up for money, just seeing if she has any fresh ideas. You know, get some new blood into the organization." "Fair enough." If Ree was going to be in town long enough to get involved in the spring festival, she'd probably get a kick out of it. "So she as pretty as they're saying?" "What?" He'd been busy thinking for a moment, had lost track of the conversation. But he was pretty sure he didn't like the idea of everybody in town talking about Ree's appearance. "Heard she was a cute little red-head." Strong narrowed his eyes at Fitz. "Also heard you took her to dinner Friday night." Fitz shrugged again. "So?" "So, people are curious, that's all. Never known you to be such a fast worker when it comes to the ladies."

109


"Well, maybe I just know what I want when I see it," Fitz replied. He had meant to get the message across that Ree was unavailable, after all. "Guess so," Strong agreed. Before he could finish getting to his feet, there was a knock on Fitz's office door. "Sheriff." One of his deputies poked his head in the door. Fitz was on his feet before he could even start talking. When Jack Stewart's Native American complexion went chalk white, something was seriously wrong. "What?" Fitz was reaching for the jacket that hung on a peg behind his desk. "It's a domestic," Stewart told him. "Hostage situation." He jerked his head at Strong, indicating he didn't want to talk with a civilian in the room. "Where?" Fitz barked. "Lincoln Street," the deputy replied as Fitz strode to the outer office, where all of the on-shift deputies were strapping on vests. Fitz took a second to grab one for himself, while the deputy gave him the address and explained the situation. "Seems Hector Evans finally went off the deep end." The man had lost his job a year ago because of his alcoholism. The only thing holding the family together had been Jeannie Evans' job at the Elks lodge. What had Fitz really scared was the fact that the Evanses had four kids, ranging from about ten on down to two. "Doris, you got the phones?" "Yes sir," his secretary/dispatcher responded. "And I can stick around as long as I have to. All non-essential calls are 110


being put on a list, and anything urgent, I'll send through to the state police." "Good. Call Stevens, get him in early. He's in charge till I get back." So his chief deputy on the night-shift would be getting a little overtime. Too bad. "Who already rolled to this?" "Larsen and Turner." Shit! Nell Larsen was a pro, but Tim Turner was still wet behind the ears. Not the best for a hostage situation. "It'll be quicker to walk than to drive, but I want a couple squad cars there, just in case. Doris, you got the ambulance standing by?" "And child protective services," Doris agreed with a nod. "Nate?" He turned to Nathan Bayles, his second-incommand on day shift, a man ten years his senior, who would probably have had the job of sheriff if he'd wanted it. "You set?" Nate nodded; they both knew what Fitz was talking about. Nate was a former Special Forces sniper. If things went to hell in a handbasket, Fitz wanted to know Nate had the right hardware with him. "Nate, you go in low, find a position. Make contact with Nell if you can. Stewart, you and Johnson take cars, but no sirens, no lights, and park a couple houses down till you get further instructions. Davis, that means you're with me. Let's go." "Yes sir." They scattered instantly to follow instructions, except for Marianne Davis, who checked her sidearm before following Fitz out the front door. Lincoln Street was only the 111


next block over from the courthouse. They drew a lot of attention as they sprinted down the sidewalk in full riot gear, but nobody in town was stupid enough to try to get in their way. There was already a crowd around the Evans' place, and Fitz cursed, recognizing the editor of the local paper among other busybodies. Turner was working crowd control, keeping the mob back off the front lawn. Nell was up on the front porch, apparently talking to someone through the screen door. Fitz strode up to Turner. "Who've we got inside?" "All of them except the oldest, sir. He figured something was wrong, and snuck out to the neighbor's before he was seen. That's how we got the call. Hector's got Jeannie and the three younger kids on the couch. He's got an old bolt-action shotgun pointed at the whole bunch." "Okay." Fitz's stomach dropped down into his boots. That's exactly what he hadn't wanted to hear. Hostage situations were volatile enough by nature. All it needed was the twoyear old to decide to start screaming. "You're doing a good job out here, Turner. Keep it up. Davis, I want you to go round back, make sure nobody goes in or comes out the back door. Get Johnson out of his car to help." She nodded then jogged off to get in position. When Jack Stewart climbed out of his squad car and strode up, Fitz pulled him aside. "Find out where Nate is and pick an opposing position, just in case he can't get a shot." Stewart nodded once and disappeared in to the shrubbery on the side of the house. Then, with a nod at Nell Larsen, Fitz climbed the steps to the porch. 112


"Here he is, Mr. Evans," Nell called through the door. "I told you he was on the way." "I'm right here, Hector," Fitz agreed. "Can I come in?" "No!" the man in the house screamed. "Not unless you're here to arrest my whore of a wife!" "We can talk about that," Fitz called agreeably. "But do you really want to do it so that the whole town can hear? Why don't you let me in the door so we can talk?" **** "Lily, here's a question nobody else has been willing to answer." Ree was in the store room at the back of the shop, and Lily was out front doing some shelving, but they could converse easily through the door. "What's that, dear?" "How did my grandfather die?" There was a thud, as if Lily had dropped a stack of books. Ree immediately regretted her question, and moved away from her own task to comfort her friend. "I'm sorry, Lily. I know it's still painful. I just find it odd that nobody told me." She reached the shelf where Lily was working and found the older woman sitting on the floor with a bemused-looking grin. "I'm sorry, Ree. I assumed that Lee Wilkerson would have told you. It was a heart attack. Massive and very sudden. One moment he was there, the next he was gone. It was a blessing, really. He didn't suffer a bit."

113


Ree bent down and helped the older woman to her feet, pausing to give her a hug. "Thanks. I wonder why nobody told me that." "That's probably because of the when and where of it, dear." Lily turned her back, but before she did, Ree could see she was turning a bright shade of red. "What does that mean?" "We were in bed. Harry passed away in the middle of er— intimate relations." And then she burst out laughing, though the chuckles changed to sobs at the end. Ree couldn't help it, she was laughing and crying too. She steered them both to a sofa, and they clung to each other till the storm had passed. "I can't help but believe," Lily said finally, wiping her eyes. "That it's a way he would have chosen, given the chance. He was always a bit of an old goat, you understand. But imagine my horror at having to explain that when I called nine-oneone. And poor Fitz. He was the first to respond to the call. And he'd always considered Harry more in the light of a father. It was all very tragic and yet so horribly funny at the same time." They cleaned up and stood to return to work, the bond between them stronger than ever, Ree thought, mentally thanking her grandfather again for bringing her here. As they moved to the back of the shop, Lily gave one more little chuckle. "Lord, how I loved that man! And wasn't that just like Harry to leave me with one last laugh." 114


"What the heck is going on in the street?" Ree had only been back in the storeroom for a few minutes when she became aware that sort of commotion was taking place in front of the shop. "I don't know," called Lily. Ree heard her walking to the front of the store. "But something definitely is. I just saw two sheriff's cars pull out of the lot, and there go the sheriff and Marianne Davis, on foot. They're both wearing body armor, so something must be up." Body armor? That didn't sound good. Ree felt her mouth go dry at the thought of Fitz walking into something that required a bullet-proof vest. Without even bothering to save the spreadsheet entries she'd made, she ran for the front window. "They turned down Lincoln," Lily noted. "There's a bit of a crowd following though. Can't be a fire; they always have the sirens on for those." So much for his insistence that the worst parts of his job were traffic fatalities and bar fights. There were no bars on Lincoln, and Even Ree knew you didn't wear armor to an accident scene. "But this is such a nice, peaceful town," she worried. "What on earth could it be?" "Violent people exist everywhere," Lily reminded her. "And one thing about living out here, almost everybody hunts. That means almost every household has guns." Ree's stomach swirled and she thought for a moment she was going to be sick. She flat-out hated guns. Probably had to do with her uncles, or maybe it was a past-life thing, but for some reason just the sight of the things had always made 115


her skin crawl. When she'd seen Fitz wearing his weapon holster, she'd had to make a conscious effort to ignore it. The thought of him shooting anything was terrifying, but not nearly as bad as the thought of someone else trying to shoot him. "Lily," she began, turning to her friend. But Lily was already one step ahead of her, holding out Ree's bright yellow coat. "Go. Just don't get in the way, and for God's sake, stay out of trouble yourself." "Got it!" Ree had no problem agreeing to that. She just had to see for herself what was going on. She had no intention of doing anything but hiding amid the crowd. As it turned out, the crowd was huge, at least for a town the size of Shirley. Cursing her slightly under-average height, Ree craned her neck and stood on tiptoes, trying to see why so many people had gathered in front of what looked like a fairly ordinary, if somewhat-run-down house. Two sheriff's deputies were keeping the crowd back from the house and lawn. Ree recognized the very young deputy who had come to fetch Fitz the day they'd met in the café, and the other one was a woman with short black hair. The crowd seemed to be pretty cooperative, because both of the deputies were focusing more on the house than on the public. Ree finally found a view corridor to the front porch, and gulped. Fitz was standing in front of the screen door, talking to someone inside. He wore a bullet-proof vest over his uniform shirt, and had obviously not bothered with a coat, though the temperature was barely above zero. Ree whimpered at the sight of his drawn weapon. Peering into a 116


window on the other end of the wide porch, was the tall blonde deputy who had come to the apartment when Fitz was sick. She was also wearing a vest and holding a gun. Ree finally recognized a familiar face in the crowd, and maneuvered herself close enough to ask. "What's going on?" "Guy decided his wife was cheating on him and went nuts," murmured the owner of the beauty salon next to the bookstore. "He's got her and their kids at gunpoint inside." Ree shivered at the potential tragedy, sent a small prayer of hope up to the heavens. Then curiosity got the better of her. "How do you know?" This grapevine stuff still had her befuddled. "Police scanner radio," Shayna answered. "My husband's a volunteer fireman, so I keep it on in the background. That way, he doesn't have to call me if he has a run." That made sense. Ree wasn't sure though, if she'd want to know every time Fitz put himself in danger. Apparently enough of the town had heard the gossip linking Ree with Fitz, because with a few nudges from Shayna, the two women were soon pushed to the front of the pack, and Ree found herself standing right next to the freshfaced young deputy, who looked almost as nauseated as Ree felt. "How's it going, Tim?" Shayna murmured. "You know Ms. Jakobowski, right?" "Hi, Shayna." He nodded at Ree. "Tim Turner, ma'am. You sure you want to be here?" Ree shook her head. "Not at all. But here I am. Is he going to be okay?" 117


Turner nodded. "If anybody can pull this off it's the sheriff," he boasted, obviously proud of his boss. "He'll have it sorted out in no time." "Okay, here's the deal, Hector," she heard Fitz call from the porch. "You send out the kids, and I'll come in and take their place. No gun, no vest. I'll even bring the forms so you can press charges against your wife." There was yelling from inside, but Ree couldn't make out the words. "Nope, it's gotta be all three. You don't want those kids to see me arrest their mother, do you? Send 'em on out. I'm taking off my vest, and giving my gun to Nell." Sure enough, he started undoing his body armor, and Ree's stomach dropped down to her toes. He was really going to do this, wasn't he? Trade places with a bunch of kids. "I promise, I'm not giving them to the state. How about one of your neighbors? I see Mrs. Larsen out here. She can take 'em to her house and feed 'em cookies till you're ready to pick them up. That work for you?" There was a short reply from the house, then Fitz whispered something to Nell Larsen, who came down off the porch and pulled an older woman out of the crowd. The resemblance was remarkable; it had to be her mother. The tall, silver-haired lady stood on the sidewalk to the porch with deputy and waited, an even taller man of similar years by her side. "I'm handing my gun and vest to Nell," Fitz called. Nell came forward and stood in front of the window, accepting the 118


items as visibly as possible. "Now send out those little ones, and we can talk, man-to-man." There was a tense silence, and the door opened. An ashy pale girl of maybe five or six appeared, holding a tow-headed toddler by the hand. Neither was dressed for the winter weather, and without even thinking about it, Ree whipped off her down coat and moved forward to hand it to the woman who waited at the base of the steps. She nodded at Ree without taking her eye off the children, but as soon as they were off the porch, she wrapped the pair of them in it, then scooped the whole bundle into her strong arms. "Let's go over to my house, shall we? I've got some fresh bread, right out of the oven to try out." Ree could well believe this was a mother of seven, and probably grandmother of several. "One more, Hector," Fitz called. There was another hush while they waited. Finally, another small figure appeared in the doorway, and the man, another Nordic giant, picked up the third child, wrapping the little boy in his own sheepskin jacket against his chest. "Thanks, Dad," Nell acknowledged as he turned to follow the woman across the street. "Keep 'em inside, okay? I'll be over as soon as I can." "Okay, Hector, I'm coming in," Fitz called. He held the door open with the toe of his boot and raised his hands in the air. "I'm not armed. We're just going to talk." Nell went back to her post by the window, and everyone on the sidewalk waited, barely breathing. Ree realized she 119


was clutching Shayna's hand, but when she went to pull it away, the other woman just smiled and squeezed. "He'll be fine," Shayna murmured. "Fitz Hall can be a stubborn cuss, but he keeps his head, and he's smart. Hector Evans is dumb as a post to begin with, and almost always drunk. Fitz will talk him down, don't worry." "Yeah, well the combination of dumb and drunk isn't exactly reassuring," Ree countered in a whisper. She huddled closer to the others to ward off the cold, now that she didn't have a coat. Occasionally they heard shouting from inside, probably from the man called Hector. At one point, Nell tensed and raised her pistol, but before she could do anything, a loud blast and the sound of shattering glass echoed through the twilight. Ree shrieked, and tightened her grip on Shayna's hand. Nell ran to the door and burst inside, but there were no more shots. A few moments later, the deputy led a sobbing woman out of the house and handed her into the back seat of one of the police cruisers. Ree didn't breathe as she watched the door, then she exhaled hard when she saw Fitz walking out the door, pushing another, handcuffed, man before him. Neither appeared the worse for wear, and Ree felt her knees go wobbly. She might have actually crumbled, if Shayna hadn't steadied her. More deputies emerged from the bushes around the house and Fitz handed the cuffed man off to two of them while he stood on the porch and addressed the crowd. 120


"It's all over folks, and nobody was hurt, except for some drywall and a window. Go home to your suppers." He looked exhausted, Ree noticed. As tired and drawn as he had the day he was so sick. She didn't need the little shove from Shayna to run over to him as soon as he came down from the porch. "Ree!" He seemed startled to see her here. But he didn't resist at all when she instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged. In fact his own went around her shoulders, and he held her close, for just a second. "You're bleeding," she accused when she looked up at him a second later. "Were you shot?" He raised his hand to the small patch of blood on his right cheekbone, then studied it as if to assess the matter. "No, I'm fine. The shotgun went off to the side, took out a window. I probably just got nicked by some flying glass." She hugged him again, tight. "Hey, it's all right." He stroked her hair. "And why the hell are you out here without a coat?" She just shrugged, not wanting to tell him. But the sound of someone clearing her throat intruded. "My dad just brought this back," Nell Larsen handed Ree her coat, without quite meeting her eyes. "And my mom says to tell you that you've got good instincts." Fitz chuckled and helped Ree into the garment. "Figures. You just can't stop taking care of people, can you?" Ree just shrugged. Like he could talk.

121


"Anyway, I've got to go back to the office and start cleaning up after all this," Fitz told her. They'd already started walking back to Main Street. "God knows when I'll be done." "Could you stop by, whenever you finish?" Ree asked cautiously. He might not admit it, but he was a mess, and she didn't want him to have to drive anywhere, or be alone right now. And she just needed to spend some time with him, to see for herself that he was okay. "I've got lasagna in the oven, if it hasn't burned to a crisp while I was here. You need to eat." Fitz laughed. "I guess I do." They'd stopped at the door to the bookshop. She hadn't even noticed that he'd walked her across the street instead of turning into his own building. The crowd was dissipating, but there were still people milling about, chatting at the corner and in front of various shops. The lights were on in the beauty salon, so Shayna must have gone inside. Ree didn't remember seeing her leave. All her attention had been focused on Fitz. "It might be a couple hours," he warned. "I don't care if it's midnight," she told him. She just knew she needed to be with him tonight. "Then I'll see you later," he promised. "And by the way, Nell's mother was right. You do have very good instincts. You didn't even know those kids, but you reacted quicker than anyone who's known them their whole lives. You did good Ree." She smiled at his praise, was glad it was dark so he couldn't see her blush. 122


But it wasn't too dark for half the town to see him kiss her, right there on the sidewalk.

123


Chapter Seven Ree waited, reliving that kiss, over and over. It hadn't been a peck on the cheek. Right out there in front of everybody, Fitz had kissed her like he meant it. And she'd stood on her tiptoes, wound her arms around his shoulders, and kissed him right back. They'd only stopped when they'd both run out of breath. Oxygen was over-rated. But Ree understood responsibility, and she'd let him go back to work without a whimper. At least out loud. Lily had waited inside the shop. She'd obviously been kept updated by someone on the phone though, because she knew what had gone on, hadn't asked Ree for explanations. "You all right?" Ree nodded. "I'll close up," Lily offered. "Why don't you go upstairs?" "No, I'd rather work," Ree told her, and with that, Lily had finished up her own self-appointed tasks, then headed out, leaving Ree to brood. She'd run upstairs just long enough to check on dinner, but she waited in the shop, where she could look out the big display windows and watch for activity in the street. She had Andrea Bocelli playing quietly on the CD player, and the only light left in the shop was the soft glow from the gas fireplace and the candles on the mantel. She was in deep trouble when it came to Fitz, she admitted, watching the light swirl of snowflakes in the glow of the street lamps outside her window. He was everything that 124


was wrong for her in a man, but somehow when she was close to him, everything felt unbelievably right. He was too traditional, too structured, too used to authority, but all he had to do was look at her, and her whole body melted. Maybe it was just lust, and maybe her body was just making up for lost time, but she was afraid it was more than that. And she had no idea what the hell she was going to do about it. Finally, she saw him—a long, lean figure in cowboy hat and boots, striding across the street toward her shop. She'd left the front door unlocked, though the closed sign was up. He peered in the window, then smiled when he saw her by the fire. Seconds later he was standing in the doorway, shaking the snow off his Stetson. "Why are you waiting down here?" His voice alone was enough to send shivers down her spine. "Just enjoying the fire," she replied, standing to turn off the gas. "But dinner's ready upstairs, if you're hungry." **** If he was hungry? He still hadn't had lunch and it was after eight o'clock. But when he looked at Ree in her fuzzy green sweater and tight jeans, food wasn't the first thing that came to mind. She walked in front of him up the stairs, so he got to watch her full, feminine bottom the whole way to the apartment. If his stomach hadn't growled when she opened the door and the scent of garlic and tomato sauce hit his nostrils, he'd probably have tackled her right there in the living room. 125


Instead, he followed her to the table, which she'd already set. "Are the kids okay?" was the first thing she asked as she moved deftly about her—his—tiny kitchen, using a pair of oven mitts shaped like killer whales to move the heavy glass pan from the oven to the table. She must have been planning on eating lasagna for a week if she'd cooked this just for herself. He didn't have time to dwell on the fact that he didn't like to think of her cooking for anybody but him, because he was busy just watching her move. She brought over a loaf of her homemade bread, and pulled a big green salad out of the fridge. "What would you like to drink?" He hadn't answered her first question yet, and he almost forgot to answer this one too. When she bent over to retrieve something from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator, it took all of his concentration skills just to avoid drooling. "I've got lemonade, iced tea, and water. Oh, and there's your whiskey, too." "Lemonade is fine." He might get around to the Scotch later, but he'd probably drink battery acid right now if she set it in front of him. Especially if she smiled. He knew he had no business getting involved any more deeply with Ree, knew he was setting himself up for trouble when she got sick of Shirley and left, but right now he was too blasted tired and wrung out to care. "The kids," Ree reminded him as she placed two tall glasses of lemonade on the table. It actually had pulp in it, he noticed, not just powder. She sat down across from him. "Are they going to be all right?" 126


"Physically, they're all fine. Hector shoved them around a little, but his didn't actually hit any of them or anything." He took a bite of lasagna, and closed his eyes, savoring the spicy blend of flavors. "Psychologically, well, who knows? Child Protective Services is going to make sure that Jeannie and the kids get family counseling, which should help." "And the husband?" Ree shuddered, but her voice stayed low and soft, almost as if she was trying to comfort him. "Is he going to prison?" Fitz shrugged. "Probably rehab. First stop, though is the psych ward. Hector was always a useless drunk, but he was never violent before. His wife said it was like a circuit in his brain just blew." "How awful," she said sadly. "For all of them, and for you." From the tremor in her voice, it was like she could actually feel the pain someone else had gone through. The woman was far too soft-hearted for her own good. Then she turned those big green eyes on him, and the empathy turned into censure. "Is walking into a hostage situation un-armed and un-armored what they teach you out here at sheriff's school?" Ah. He'd already been royally chewed out for that one, by everybody from the State Police Captain to his own secretary. Yes, he'd gone off the books, but he'd known in his gut that it was the right thing to do. He'd gotten those kids out of danger, and if he had to do it all over again, he would. "State Police Academy," he corrected, then told her simply. "And it worked."

127


"It did," she agreed with a sad little grin. "And it was a brilliant thing to do. It was also very brave." He felt a warm surge of pride at her compliments. "Not to mention idiotic!" Then she lowered her eyes and her voice turned husky. "And I'm very, very glad you came out in one piece. When I heard that gun go off, I thought I saw my own life flash in front of my eyes." Yeah, Fitz had damn near wet his pants when that had happened, though he'd never admit it to a living soul. "He thought he heard a sound in the bushes," Fitz explained. He'd already been over this what felt like a thousand times, for his staff, and for all the official reports. "So he turned to look out the window. That seemed like a good opportunity to take the shotgun away from him." She went pale, and Fitz wasn't sure if he was sorry for scaring her, or glad that she'd been worried about him. "What brought you over there, anyway? I wouldn't have taken you for the nosy neighbor type." He didn't know why he asked, regretted it the minute the words were out of his mouth. Did he really want her to say, 'you?' Some part of him hoped she would. Instead she shrugged. "I'm not sure. I guess I just followed the crowd." But she didn't meet his eyes as she said it, so maybe she really had shown up because of him. "Well, anyway, giving your coat to those kids was a good move. You've made a friend for life in Mrs. Larsen, and she doesn't usually take to strangers at all." "It wasn't a big deal. I didn't even think about it," she insisted, brushing it off. "It was just an impulse, that's all." 128


"Yeah, well you've got good impulses," he told her, probably a little too gruffly to be much of a compliment. He'd never been good at those. "I was proud of you." Watching those emerald-colored eyes widen with shock was fun. He might as well go for broke. "And I've heard lots of good things about what you've done with the store. My secretary even stuck one of those cinnamon candles in my office. It isn't bad. Not too girly." That made her laugh, and he decided that was okay, too. As long as she was smiling at him, things were going all right. He'd finished his second helping when his headache decided to come back with a vengeance. Ree had gotten up to fetch dessert, mini-cinnamon rolls this time, when she noticed him rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong?" Her soft voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket. "Headache," he replied. "Sinuses are still a little out of whack from the cold last week." "And today was just the tiniest bit stressful," she added dryly. She set the rolls down and moved to stand behind him. He felt her fingers on his shoulders, and had to stifle a groan. "Your muscles are like high-tension wires. It's a wonder you can hold your head up without screaming in pain." He thought she might offer to rub them for him, but instead she moved away, and he felt like a six-year-old deprived of a treat. "Have one of those while they're still warm," she told him over her shoulder as she moved back to the cupboards. A few seconds later she was back with a small glass and his bottle 129


of Glenfiddich. "Just a little bit," she warned, then she flitted into the bedroom. A few seconds later she was back, and she had the table cleared before he'd finished his dessert, glaring daggers at him when he tried to get up and help. He sipped his two fingers of Scotch, wondering what she was up to now. "Are you finished?" He nodded yes. She smiled wickedly. He watched as she moved around the living room, lighting the half-dozen candles she'd brought out of the bedroom before she turned off the overhead light. She unrolled a mat, and placed it on the middle of the floor, then draped a white sheet over it. A small dish was on top of another candle, and she set that one on the coffee table beside the mat. Finally, she pressed a button on his stereo, and the soft strains of a bamboo flute filled the room. "Now come over here and take off your shirt." Hell, he'd take off anything she liked. He picked up his glass and walked over, sitting down on the couch long enough to remove his boots as well as his uniform shirt and T-shirt. "Now lay down on the mat, face down." There was a small U-shaped pillow for his face, so Fitz shrugged and did as he was told. She dipped her fingers in the bowl, as if testing the heat of the liquid. Then she rubbed it into her hands. A warm spicy scent drifted through the candlelit air. "Close your eyes." Okay, he could go for that. However she wanted to play it. He closed his eyes. 130


The heated oil trailed off her fingers and onto his back like ribbons of warm, wet silk. But once she touched him, skin to skin, all he could feel was her. She smoothed the oil into his skin with long, smooth strokes, using her whole hand, from heel to fingertips. Once she had him coated from hairline to the waist of his slacks, she smoothed her hands down his arms, kneading lightly as she went. She hummed along with the music, just off-key enough that he could tell it was her. "That feel good?" God, yes, she could oil him up any time. But she'd started doing deeper massage on the straining muscles of his shoulders, and all he could manage was a vague sound of approval. "Good," she said, in that low, sweet voice. "Just try to relax, and imagine all the tension flowing out of your body." Well, some of the tension was flowing out. Other parts were getting a whole lot more tense, the longer she touched him. She'd obviously taken some training at this, though, because her hands were working wonders on the knots up and down his spine. **** Ree let herself enjoy the opportunity to have her hands on Fitz. The strong, sculpted muscles of his back were taut with tension, and his spine was stiff as a board. She could only begin to imagine what he'd gone through in that house tonight. But she could do something to help him relax, and she mentally blessed the massage class she'd taken at her grandmother's insistence. 131


She'd given up trying to think of the woman who'd raised her as her great-aunt, thirty years of training just weren't going to vanish overnight. And she'd come to the conclusion that it really didn't matter. The past was the past, and all she could change was the future. And right now her immediate future was lying here under her hands. He groaned when she worked on a particularly nasty knot below his shoulder blade. He might be an uptight, rightbrained, and dictatorial, but, she had to acknowledge, his heart was in the right place. He'd willingly offered himself up for those kids, and he'd been awfully good to her, letting her stay here, in his apartment, for an indefinite length of time. She wanted to talk to him about that, but not tonight. Right now he needed to relax and let go of his problems, not be given more to worry about. So she hummed softly to the music as she worked, badly, she knew, but he didn't seem to mind. Slowly his muscles began to loosen up under her ministrations. The combination of massage, aromatherapy, soothing music, and candlelight always worked miracles. "All that's left is a big knot in your lower back," she murmured, not sure he was even still awake. "I can't get to it with your pants on." He didn't hesitate for a moment, just rolled to his side and unbuckled his belt. He shoved his slacks down and tossed them carelessly to the side, before rolling back onto his stomach. He wore a pair of tight-fitting dark blue boxer-briefs that left nothing to the imagination. 132


Ree just watched, barely remembering to close her mouth. Her limbs were heavy and her stomach clenched with desire, but that wasn't what this was supposed to be about, so she swallowed hard and forced herself to continue the massage as impersonally as possible. Finally, she was done. She finished the deep tissue work and ended the session with a series of smooth, soothing strokes from the base of his spine up to his neck, then out to his fingertips. His muscles were relaxed, his breathing deep and steady, and his eyes were closed. She hated to let him sleep on the floor, but she didn't want to wake him up, either. He'd be fine, here for a while, she thought, but she should probably get him a blanket. She rose slowly, stretching to get the kinks out of her own muscles. As she started to step away from the mat, a hand snaked out and grabbed her ankle. "Just where do you think you're going?" "To get you a blanket. I thought you were asleep." "Uh-uh." He tugged on her ankle. "Get back here." "Why? Is there another spot that needs work?" "Yep." She let herself be pulled back down to the mat, till she was kneeling beside him. "Where?" "Here." He moved so quickly, she never knew what hit her. Suddenly, though, she was flat on her back on the mat, with a mostly naked Fitz looming over her. She barely had time to gasp in a breath of air, then his head came down, and his lips covered hers. 133


Ree didn't have to think about responding. In fact, she probably couldn't have managed to think about anything if she'd tried. The entire world narrowed to their two bodies, pressed together on the thin yoga mat. The floor was hard beneath her back, but she couldn't have cared less. The only things she cared about were the places where their two bodies touched. And there weren't enough of those. He seemed to think the same, because he dragged his mouth away from hers and levered himself up enough to pull her sweater off over her head. Her hair crackled with static, and was probably sticking straight out, but he didn't seem to care, as he was busy unhooking the front clasp of her green satin bra. "Gorgeous," he murmured as he bent his head kissed the flat plane just above her cleavage. Her body knew what it wanted, and she arched her back, lifting her breasts for his kiss. He nuzzled the valley between them first, dropping tiny, nipping kisses all the way down her breastbone. She tried to wriggle, but her hips were pinned in place by his, and she could feel the press of his erection, even through their clothes. His hands stayed on the sides of her breasts, cupping them and pushing them together, burying his face between them. It felt wonderful, every spot he touched sending flickering licks of flame along her skin, but she wanted more. A tiny moan escaped her throat as she twisted her shoulders, trying to move him to one side or the other. "Is this what you want?" His voice was low and husky. He didn't wait for an answer, just shifted a little, his feather-soft 134


kisses moving down and around one breast. He traced evernarrowing circles with his lips. Her nipples were tight, actually aching, waiting for his touch. When he finally dropped a fluttery kiss on the straining peak, she let out a little broken cry, and closed her eyes. Her back arched further, making her head fall back, and thrusting her nipple up for more. He gave a warm chuckle that sounded approving, then finally gave into her wordless plea, and took it into his mouth. When his lips closed over the sensitive flesh, it felt like lightning streaking right through Ree's body, ricocheting to her fingers and toes before collecting in a heavy pool low in her belly. She grabbed his head in both hands and held it close as he licked, sucked, and teased, until she was writhing underneath him and whimpering with every breath. Then, just when she was sure she couldn't take another second of this heavenly torture, he switched to the other side. Her hands slid down his back, the skin smooth and warm from the massage oil, and she burrowed her fingers under the waistband of his briefs to grip the rock-solid muscle of his butt. He must have approved, because he rocked his hips, rubbing himself against her. The pressure was marvelous, and almost exactly where her body craved it. She pulsed her hips, trying to find a way to ease the empty ache between her legs. "Easy, there, Green Eyes." He gave her nipple one last lick, then rolled to the side. She was about to protest when he leaned over and silenced her with a kiss. While she was occupied with the slow slide of his tongue against hers, his 135


hand was busy with the snap and zipper of her jeans. Once they were undone, he slid his fingers inside the opening, dipping them down to press against her curls. "Nice," he whispered, breaking the kiss. "Warm and soft and wet. For me." She nodded blindly, uttering a tiny cry of disappointment when he pulled away from her, just long enough to peel her jeans and panties off her hips and down her legs. Kneeling beside her, he got rid of his own underwear, and trailed a hand down her body, stopping to place warm, wet kisses as he went. Her whole body melted, her limbs going slack and heavy. His tongue swirled around her belly button and tickled a little, making her giggle. "I'm sorry," she whispered, embarrassed, and afraid he'd think she was laughing at him. He did it again, chuckling himself. "It's okay to laugh, Ree. It's supposed to be fun." She was pretty sure that what melted that time was her heart, but she wasn't going to think about it right now. Not when his mouth kept moving lower, even while his hands gently separated her legs. No way! Surely he wasn't going to ... He was. He gripped her thighs with his hands and lowered his face. She tensed, sure he didn't really want to do this. Instead, he turned his head and nipped the tender flesh on the inside of her hip. "Relax. Fun, remember?" "But—," she began, totally unsure of anything right now. He must have understood, because he soothed the tiny sting with another of his butterfly kisses. "Do you like doing that?" 136


"Don't worry about that, gorgeous. If I wasn't having fun, I wouldn't be doing it." He leaned up on his elbows and looked at her with a warm, slightly rueful smile. "I keep forgetting how new you are to all this. So here's how it's going to work. If you don't like something I do, if anything makes you uncomfortable in any way, just let me know. If you do like it, it's okay to let me know that, too. Otherwise, don't worry about a thing. This time, you get to just relax and enjoy." He was so unbelievably sweet. And he would so hate to hear her say that. She smiled back. "I can do that. And, for the record, you haven't done anything yet that I didn't enjoy. But, do you think that just for a minute, you could come up here and kiss me?" "Yeah, I think I can manage that." He moved up alongside her and gathered her into his arms. She plastered herself against his chest and kissed him back, with all the passion she'd kept bottled up for the last thirty years. Somewhere in the next few seconds, though, he took complete command of the kiss. His lips stroked and shaped, and his teeth nibbled. His tongue outlined her lips and explored, before thrusting deep while she rubbed her breasts against the light covering of hair on his chest. The slight rasp on her sensitized flesh sent currents of fire straight to her core. She didn't notice that she opened her legs, didn't consciously decide to have her hips buck against his hand, as he slid it between them to stroke and fondle. She could feel him combing through the thick patch of hair, feel him testing her wetness, and swirling it around before dipping first one, 137


then two fingers inside. When those thick, strong digits parted her folds and slid up into her, Ree cried out and arched, driving them even deeper. She had to tear her mouth away from his just so she could breathe. That didn't slow him down, though. He just stroked her with those talented fingers and leaned over to take her nipple in his mouth. This time he wasn't gentle with it, he suckled hard as he pumped his hand inside her. His thumb started to caress her in gentle circles, and she barely had time to register it before her entire body exploded in pleasure. **** Watching Ree come was about the sexiest thing he'd ever seen in his life. Her muscles were clamping so tight around his hand that he wasn't sure he'd be able to withdraw it without causing her pain. So he didn't. He just slowed the motion of his hand and used his tongue to gently lave the nipple. When she relaxed a little and opened her eyes, he bent over to kiss her swollen lips instead. "What about you?" she asked softly. "We're not done, are we?" He groaned. "Not by a long shot. In fact, we're just getting started." She licked her lips, and the sight of it shot like a bolt of lightning to his groin. "Good." Her soft, breathy voice did the same, and he sat up, fumbling around for his pants. "What's wrong?" Even in the candlelight, he could tell her eyes were barely focused, as she leaned up on her elbows. 138


"Protection," he muttered, finding his pants and pulling a condom out of the front pocket. It might be too late, but then again it might not, and this time he was conscious and didn't have an excuse. "Good idea." She lay back, still smiling. "Were you planning on this?" "No." He rolled it on as carefully as he could manage, caution fighting with his urgent need to be inside her. "Hoping maybe." "Okay." She didn't sound like she minded, and as he moved above her, her arms came up and wrapped around his back. "Oh, yes, Fitz!" Her eyes closed and her head rolled back as he slowly slid inside her. She was so snug it almost hurt, and he had to fight the urge to take her hard and fast. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her pain, or leave her with any mixed memories about the pleasure of sex. But apparently she wasn't interested in gentle. "More," she demanded when he was halfway in. She pushed her hips upward, driving him deep in one sharp stroke. "Oh, yeah!" That was all he needed to hear. He bent his head to take her lips, and she kissed him back as he began to move, her hips lifting to meet every thrust. She screamed when she climaxed this time, her arms locking around his shoulders and her legs twining about his waist. The feel of her tight sheath rippling around him was all he could take, and he cried out himself as he went over the edge, his orgasm pulsing longer and harder than any he'd experienced in his life. 139


"Are you all right?" he asked a few seconds later when his lips finally consented to form words. "I didn't hurt you did I?" "Mmmm, not at all." He'd have sworn she actually purred. Then her voice actually broke as she went on. "That was the most incredible thing I've ever felt in my life!" "Hey, no tears!" He reached up to wipe away the drop of moisture from her eyes. "This is supposed to be fun, remember." "Oh yeah!" Her laugh was shaky, but her smile was brilliant. "Sorry. I'm one of those 'happy tears' kind of women. Drives me crazy, but I just can't help it." "That's okay, then." He kissed her gently, slowly this time, then reluctantly pulled away. "Wanna move to the bed?" She nodded and he stood, then helped her to her feet, feeling absurdly proud of himself when her knees wobbled. "You blow out the candles and I'll be right back." She nodded, and he ducked into the bathroom to get rid of the condom. He met her in the bedroom just a few seconds later, and groaned at the sight of her bending over the bed to turn down the sheets. "We've got a minor problem," he told her. "We're going to have to be creative. And careful. I only brought one condom." She smiled and pulled a cellophane-wrapped box out of the nightstand. "That's okay. I kind of hoped, too." And with that she looped her arms around his neck, and drew him with her to the bed.

140


Chapter Eight It was the first time in years that Fitz was late to work. Every member of his staff looked up as he strode through the outer office, whistling. "Everything okay, boss?" Doris looked up, eyes twinkling. Oh, yeah, she had a pretty good idea of where he'd spent the night. "Not a thing in the world." Somewhat to his own surprise, Fitz discovered that he really didn't care. He poured himself a mug of the sludge that passed for coffee. "Got a hit on something that might interest you," she told him as she followed him into his dinky private office, a thick sheaf of papers in her hand. "You know the old Thomas place on Lewis Street?" "Think so," he replied, reaching for the pile of paperwork. "Three-story Victorian, corner turret, blue clapboard siding?" "That's the one. Just heard this morning that the widow is moving to New Mexico to be closer to her daughter. She hasn't listed the place yet, but word is she wants it sold fast, and would be willing to make a deal." "Hmmm. Carole listing it?" Doris's oldest daughter worked for the only realty office in town. "She's meeting Millie Thomas at noon to go over the paperwork." "Can you clear my schedule for an hour later this afternoon?" he asked thoughtfully. He'd always had a secret thing for Victorian houses, with their turrets and gingerbread. If the house was the one he remembered, it needed some 141


paint and TLC, but was structurally sound. And Lewis Street was only a few blocks away, so he'd still be able to walk to work. He'd had the idea of looking for a house for the last few days, had mentioned it to Doris. He was getting tired of mooching off his brother, but he just couldn't see kicking Ree out of her new home. Besides, he was almost thirty-eight years old. It was time he had a place of his own. "Sure, no problem," Doris assured him. "Now, here's the paperwork from Child Protective Services about yesterday." "Oh, yeah, the fun just never ends around here, does it, Doris?" **** If her first sexual experience had failed to live up to Ree's expectations, her second had not only made up for it, it had grabbed her expectations by the throat and pounded them into the dirt. She'd spent the whole day in the bookstore moving slowly, but with a satisfied grin she hadn't been able to wipe off her face. Even when a pair of six-year-old twins had tipped over an entire shelf of books, barely missing Cassius in the process. The shop was busy all day, so by closing time Ree was exhausted and sore, but still smiling. She was planning on a long hot bubble bath to soothe the aches, and had decided to resort to frozen cookies for the shop tomorrow, for the second day in a row. She was shutting down the cash register at three minutes to seven when the bell over the door tinkled. She looked up with a smile to tell whomever it was that the store was 142


closing, but the words died in her throat as Fitz strolled in, looking larger than life in his uniform and Stetson. Ree's throat went dry and her knees wobbled when he sent her a slow, sexy grin. "So how was your day?" He locked the door behind him and flipped the closed sign over. "Fine." "Wanna go get some dinner?" "Ummm..." Her brain was too locked up to make a coherent sentence. It didn't get any better when he stepped over to the counter and leaned his elbows on the glass. She blinked, looking up at him, as her fingers managed to finish locking the cash drawer. "I've waited all day to do this," he whispered. Then he leaned down and kissed her, and everything else in the world went away. They were both breathing hard by the time he pulled away and stood up. "Hi." She knew it was inane, but it's what popped out of her mouth. "Hi, yourself." His grin was just a little bit smug, but she let him get away with it, since his voice was almost as shaky as hers. "Now about dinner? We should leave now, because if we go upstairs, I guarantee we won't be eating." "Food would probably be good," she agreed, though every cell in her body was begging her to drag him upstairs before he changed his mind. "My coat's in the office." They walked the block to Benedetto's, and Ree welcomed the chilly March breeze that fanned her face. Fitz kept her 143


hand clasped in his the whole time, and Ree was acutely conscious of the knowing looks that the other pedestrians cast their way. Oh yeah, the whole town had already decided that she and the sheriff were an item. She wondered why nobody had thought to inform her of that fact. The café was crowded, but there was a small table open by the window. Ree had never felt quite so conspicuous, but it didn't seem to bother Fitz a bit. He smiled and greeted other diners, even introduced Ree to a few she hadn't met. The only one in the whole restaurant who didn't seem friendly was the teenage waitress. Becky Benedetto was so sullen she actually managed to spill Ree's water into her lap. Then she cast a surreptitious glance at Fitz, and suddenly Ree understood. She smiled at the waitress. "It's okay, Becky. It's only water. I'll have the macaroni and cheese, please." With one last sullen glare at Ree, the waitress took Fitz's order for a cheeseburger, then fled. Fitz shook his head. "Can't think what got into her. She's always been a sweet little kid." Ree grinned. "Men! Blind as bats, all of you. That little kid is a grown woman, Fitz. And she's got a huge whopping crush on you." Which was a condition that Ree was coming to understand all too well. "What?" His look of horror was so comical Ree had to laugh. "Which explains why I'm persona non grata," Ree confirmed. "So be nice, but not too nice, if you know what I mean. Odds are she'll outgrow it eventually." 144


"She's less than half my age," he whispered furiously. "I'd have to be a perverted old goat to be interested in that!" She cocked her head. "So how old are you, anyway?" He grimaced. "Too old for you, too." Ree stifled a laugh. "I'm older than I look. I'll be thirty in June." "Hmmpph. I'll be thirty-eight in April." His eyes narrowed. "So how did you get to be twenty-nine and still a virgin?" She shrugged, embarrassed, though they were talking so quietly, she was sure no one could hear. "An overprotective and very religious grandmother. Guilt. I never measured up in any other way, so I tried, at least, to be a good girl in that respect." He snorted. "And after?" "Too busy." She wasn't going to tell him that she hadn't met anybody up till him who had even tempted her to change her status. "School and work, and everything." "Yeah, right." She could tell he didn't believe her, not totally, but apparently he'd decided not to press. "So how was your day?" He grinned. "Oh, the usual. Paperwork. Speeding tickets. I bought a house." "You what?" She winced when she realized how loudly she'd screeched. "I bought a house. Big blue Victorian on Lewis Street." Ree thought she knew the one. She'd spent hours on her days off walking around the downtown area, getting to know the community. She loved the big colorful houses, with their welcoming porches and ornate trim. "Why?" 145


He shrugged, still grinning. "I liked it." "Do you often buy houses just because you like them?" "My baby brother has his own house. So do both of my sisters. And his kid doesn't always sleep through the night. I figured I'd get more sleep this way." That's what she'd been afraid of, that he'd done this because of her! The guilt must have shown on her face, because his grin faded and he reached across the table to clasp her hand. "This isn't about you or the apartment. I've been thinking about getting a place of my own for a long time. But I liked being close to work. If this house had come on the market a month ago, I'd have bought it then, too." He'd picked a bad time to hold hands, because before she could reply, Becky came over and slammed their food down onto the table. **** Tooling down the state highway the following Sunday, Fitz mentally replayed the events of the last couple days. He didn't think he'd ever understand women. He'd expected Ree to be ecstatic about him breaking his lease, but instead she'd looked like she was going to cry. She'd cheered up quickly, though, and had seemed pretty enthusiastic when they'd walked around the block to check out the house, on their way back to her apartment. He'd pointed out the repairs and improvements he wanted to make, and she'd come up with suggestions, things like adding a second trim color and maybe hanging a swing on the wide corner of the front porch. She had a good eye, and he found himself agreeing with her 146


more often than not. When they got back to the shop, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to follow her upstairs and end up spending the night again. There was just something about her that was damn near irresistible, and the more he was with her the more he wanted. Not that he was complaining, not really. He'd had more sex in the last few days than in the last few years before them, and he still couldn't wait to see her again. She was with him now on the way to meet the rest of his family, and he wished he didn't feel so conflicted about that. He'd actually gone home last night, so he'd had to stop and pick her up on his way to Trip's birthday bash out at the ranch, which felt a little weird. He knew Allie had invited Ree, but it still felt awkwardly like taking the new girlfriend home to meet the family. "So Trip's the youngest, right?" She'd had him reviewing the who's who of his family. He tried to tell her not to worry about it, but she was busy twisting her hair into knots. So he patted her on the knee and went through the list, one more time. "You're sure I shouldn't have brought a different present?" "I'm sure. Trip loves mysteries, and that one's new enough, I know he doesn't have it yet. Relax." "But..." "Stop. And quit torturing your hair. You've met half of them, and I think you liked them. And Allie wouldn't have invited you if she didn't like you. Hell, I'm half surprised she invited me. So relax." "You and Allison don't get along?" 147


"We didn't at first. It's a long story, but I guess I have a bad habit of being a little too protective of my family." Ree laughed then. "No, really? Can't imagine that! What did you do, try to warn her away?" He felt his skin flush. He'd wanted her to stop worrying, but he didn't want to go delving into his own psyche either. He looked outside and saw a likely distraction. "If you look over that hill, you can see the Crazy H," he told her. "That's the Hall family spread." "Why do you call it the Crazy H?" "The first owner was known as Crazy Jack Hall. He named the place." Ree snickered. "Ah. So insanity does run in the family." **** She wasn't snickering a few hours later. She did consider the possibility that she was having a panic attack. Why hadn't anyone told her that she was going to be the only person present for this party who wasn't a relative? All of the Halls seemed wonderful; she had no complaints about their behavior. Each and every one of them was warm and welcoming. It was just that there were so darned many of them! There were five Hall siblings, most of them with spouses, kids ranging from six months to fifteen, and even someone named Grandma Rose, who was apparently somebody's mother-in-law. Right now most of the adults were outside, engaged in a snowball fight with the older children. CJ and Fitz appeared to be the opposing captains. The chaos 148


was overwhelming. Amid the noisy, rowdy Halls, Ree appeared to have been momentarily forgotten. Hoping for a moment of quiet to gather her thoughts, she wandered around to the side of the barn, and came face to face with a beautiful, dark brown horse with a shiny black mane. "Well, hello there!" Ree had only ridden a horse once in her life, on a Girl Scout field trip, but she loved animals and they usually liked her back. She reached up to rub the velvety brown nose. "Who are you?" "Oh, that's Belle," a voice told her. Ree jumped, but turned to see an older man with a shaggy white beard. He was dressed in faded overalls and a heavy leather coat that looked like it had seen better days, but he didn't seem bothered by the cold. "Hi. I'm Ree Jakobowski. Have we met?" "Don't think so." He took her hand. "Name's Jack. I help out around here from time to time." Ah. Fitz had mentioned that they did have a couple hired hands on the ranch. Jack looked to be in his fifties or sixties, but he was almost as tall and lean as the Hall brothers, and still looked fit enough for manual labor. "Nice to meet you, Jack." She shook his hand, which was encased in a heavy leather work glove. Then she turned and stroked the horse's nose again. "And nice to meet you, Belle." The horse whickered and pushed her nose against Ree's cheek. "Think she likes you," the old man noted. "You spend much time around horses?" 149


"No. I just moved out here from Detroit," Ree told him. "Next summer, maybe I can find somebody to give me riding lessons, though." "Wouldn't surprise me," the old man replied enigmatically. "So, what do you think of Wyoming so far?" "I like it," she answered, after he repeated the question. "The minute I walked into my shop, I knew I'd finally come home." "You come out here with Trip?" "No." Ree ducked to hide the blush she knew had flooded her cheeks. Trip Hall, the birthday boy, and the only one beside Fitz who was single, turned out to be drop-dead gorgeous like his brother, but as charming and flirtatious as Fitz was stoic and silent. He walked with a limp and a cane, and was an obviously devoted single dad. But when Ree looked at him, nothing happened. When she looked at Fitz, her stomach flipped and her skin tingled. There was no comparison between the two. "Ah. Fitz is the one, then?" Ree laughed. "I don't know about that, but he's who I came here with." "Never thought I'd see him with a girl from the city?" She looked up at the lined, craggy face. "Why not?" "Got burned once. That boy is smart, but he's stubborn as a mule. Once he gets an idea in his head, takes an earthquake to shift it. And he got the idea that city girls can't be happy in Shirley." Ree nodded. "His ex-wife. Obviously an idiot." 150


Jack nodded. "More than that, but I don't use those words around a lady." "Understood. Though, for the record, I'd probably agree." "Don't give up on him," Jack warned. "He may have his head up his backside from time to time, but he's a good kid. The work he does, he needs somebody to come home to at night." Ree thought the same thing, but she wasn't sure Fitz did. "Right woman, might just be the earthquake he needs." Ree gave a shaky laugh. "Well, my grandmother used to accuse me of being a walking disaster." Jack laughed heartily and clapped her on the back. "You can hold your own, can't you? Knew you were someone special the minute you laid eyes on me." Did he mean the minute he'd laid eyes on her? Ree wasn't sure she'd understood him correctly. Right then she heard Fitz calling her name from around the barn, and she knew it was time to go back and face the crowd. She turned to thank Jack for his words of encouragement, but the older man wasn't there. She was still puzzling over his disappearance when Fitz bounded around the corner. "Come on, it's time to eat." He was red-faced and grinning from his romp with the kids, and she wished she could drag him off alone, instead of going back to the party. She didn't resist when he pulled her close for a kiss, though she regretted the layers of coats and clothes between them. **** 151


Fitz had to fight the urge to drag Ree into some secluded corner of the barn, instead of back to the house for dinner. He pulled his mouth away from hers, but held her snug against his chest for just a moment. To distract himself, he turned and scratched the nose of CJ's favorite mare. "I see you met Belle." "She's gorgeous. Do you ride her?" Fitz smiled. Ree didn't know the first thing about horses. "CJ does, but not right now. She's pregnant." "Oh! There's a lot of that going around!" Fitz's stomach dropped down into his boots, and he studied her face, looking for clues. "Got something to tell me, Ree?" "Oh!" Her mitten-covered hand flew to her mouth. "I didn't mean me!" "No?" "No. I mean, I don't know. Not yet," she stammered, and his heart rate started to settle back to normal. "And the other is something I promised not to tell." O-o-kaaay! That was confusing. But he got his answer a little while later, right after they all sat down to dinner. "Well, I know Trip thinks he's opened all his presents, but I've got one more," CJ announced from the head of the table. He stood and placed his hands on his wife's shoulders, while she beamed up at him with big misty eyes. Looking at the two of them, Fitz had to admit he'd been wrong about Allie; she was clearly nuts about his brother. "But he has to wait a while for this one. Somewhere around the middle of September, he'll have another niece or nephew to spoil." 152


Chaos ensued. Fitz was in the middle of it; he jumped up like the rest to thump CJ on the back and give Allie a hug. Ree just sat in her chair and smiled at Allie. She'd known! Somehow, Ree had found out about this before they announced it to the family. "She bought a book," Ree whispered after Fitz and the others had returned to their seats. "About pregnancy. I'm sorry, but she made me promise not to tell you." How had she known it was bugging him? Sometimes Ree was so sensitive to people's feelings that it was downright scary. "Why do I think you're going to end up knowing every secret in town?" She shrugged and smiled. "Just a few. It's kind of cool though. Makes me feel like I'm a part of things. After being the outsider my whole life, you've no idea how nice that is." Damn! He hated being reminded that she'd grown up around people who didn't appreciate her, while Harry would have spent every minute of every day adoring first her mother then her. It made Fitz want to spend the next thirty years or so making it up to her. And that scared the bejeezus out of him. "And to think, this is all because of the ghost," Allie was saying. Huh? That was the first Fitz had heard about that. "I sat there in that blizzard, not knowing which way to turn." Allie was beaming at CJ. "And I saw what looked like the shape of a woman, beckoning through the snow. I knew she couldn't be real, but I decided to take it as a sign of which way to turn. Imagine my surprise when you told me about the 153


family ghost. I mean, I still couldn't swear I saw anything, but if I did, she probably saved my life. And gave me everything I ever dreamed of." At that she launched herself into CJ's arms. Fitz heard a suspicious sniff from beside him and looked down to see Ree trying to be surreptitious about wiping away a tear. She was such a softie. He didn't even want to contemplate the idea that she might be overly emotional for the same reason Allie was. But he reached under the table and gave her hand a squeeze, anyway. It was worth the gesture just to see her grin up at him, and roll her eyes, making fun of her own sensitivity. Then everyone turned their attention to food. Fitz helped himself to a good-sized T-bone, then held the heavy platter for Ree. "Steak?" Her face turned pale. "No thanks." "Come, on, you've gotta try one. Home-grown, right here on the ranch." He'd have sworn her complexion turned green. "No. Thanks. Could you please pass the potatoes?" "Is something wrong?" Allie asked from further down the table. "No," Ree assured her, with a suspicious looking swallow. "It's just that..." Her voice trailed off as she looked away from the platter. "It's just that I'm umm—a vegetarian." There was a moment of stunned silence. Fitz felt like a fool. He'd invited a vegetarian to dinner at a cattle ranch. Worse, he'd been dating her, more or less, for weeks, and had been too dumb to figure it out. He thought about it now, and it made sense, the salads when he'd taken her to dinner, 154


tofu in the soup. Across, from him, Trip started laughing, quietly at first. Alan, his sister Willa's husband, soon followed. Allie glared at them both. "I'm sorry, Ree, I didn't know. Is there anything else I can get for you? I've got some cheeses in the fridge..." "No," Ree assured her. "Please, don't worry about me. There's more than enough food here; I promise I won't go away hungry." Allie smiled. "Okay then. I will apologize for these idiots at my table. Fitz, get that platter out of her face, can't you see it's making her uncomfortable? And the rest of you, pay attention to your own meals, please!" By now, though, everyone was laughing. Even Fitz was fighting to keep it inside, but realizing the truth of Allie's comment, he hurriedly passed the platter off to someone else. He looked down at Ree, saw she was a bright shade of red. "You know they're laughing at me, right?" he whispered. "For sitting there looking stupid with a plate full of meat in my hand. Nobody's laughing at you." She looked up at him, an expression of doubt and selfreproach in those misty green eyes. If he ever got his hands on any of the relatives who had convinced her to be so unsure of herself, he'd probably have to arrest himself. "I mean it, Ree. You can eat what you want. Nobody here cares." And if he was privately afraid that being a vegetarian was yet another reason she wouldn't want to stay here in cattle country, he wasn't about to mention that out loud. 155


She was quiet through the rest of the meal, but there were no more dramatic incidents, for which Fitz was absurdly grateful. As much as he loved his family, group events like that were emotionally draining at the best of times, exhausting at the worst. "I met someone named Jack while you were playing with the kids," Ree told him later, as he drove her back to town in his truck. "He seemed like quite a character." Fitz cocked his head to the side, but the roads had turned icy after dark, so he didn't dare turn to look at her. "No idea who you're talking about," Fitz replied. "There's nobody named Jack at the ranch, unless CJ hired a new hand this week that I don't know about." "But he said he'd known you your whole life," she argued. "You've got to know who I'm talking about. Older man, long, shaggy hair. Looked a little like a relative of yours, really. Same build, and he had bright blue eyes like your brother Trip." Fitz tried to ignore the moment of jealousy he felt that she'd so much as noticed Trip's eyes. Trip was the one with the looks and charm of the bunch of them, and he turned it loose on every female he met. Fitz didn't know why he'd hoped that Ree might be immune. And it bugged him that he had no idea who this Jack person was. Hmm, Sam, the ranch foreman was older. And he'd known the Hall boys their whole lives, maybe she'd run in to him, and just heard the name wrong. Of course, his hair was short, but maybe she'd seen him with a hat and gotten confused somehow. Anyway, Fitz shrugged it off. He wasn't going to worry about it now. 156


"Your family seems really nice," Ree told him with a cute little yawn. "Big, though. I can't imagine keeping track of all those people." He shrugged. "You get used to it. You've got to remember, it started with just the five of us. We didn't start adding more till Harper got married, and she was twenty or so. Then the other spouses and the kids came along one at a time. It's not so bad when you add them in gradually." "How do you even remember all their birthdays?" She was leaning toward him, and he resisted the urge to wrap his arm around her and haul her close. He laughed. "I write them down. And Harp reminds us, for the most part. She's the organized one of the bunch." "Hmm." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her cross her arms over her chest and settle back into her seat. He wondered what she was thinking, though a part of him didn't think he wanted to know. Some of the things that went on in a woman's mind were just too weird for any man to contemplate. "The roads are getting bad, aren't they?" she asked softly, as they approached the outer edges of town. "Getting there," he agreed. The lightly misting rain that had started during dinner had started to freeze on the pavement. "You could stay in town," she offered quietly. "Avoid the extra drive out to your brother's house." It was the first time she'd made the offer out loud, rather than it just happening after they'd made love. Fitz was oddly touched by the gesture, and no way was he stupid enough to 157


turn it down. "That would work," he answered. He'd taken to carrying a bag with some spare clothes in the truck, just in case. Her tiny hand snaked across the seat and landed on his thigh. They didn't say another word, but he finished the drive with a smile on his face.

158


Chapter Nine How had she ever thought Trip Hall was charming? Ree scowled at Fitz's younger brother. He wasn't doing anything wrong, not exactly. He was just chatting her up and flirting, and she absolutely did not have time for that nonsense. A whole shipment of children's books had apparently gone missing, and a lady from one of the churches had just come in, asking her to pull all the romance novels, "and other smut" off the shelves! As if! Romances made up more than half of her weekly sales! Ree hadn't told the annoying woman that one of her best customers was the minister's wife from that very same church. She was tired, she didn't feel good, and by the time the harridan had left, Ree also had a pounding headache. To top it off, she hadn't seen Fitz since he'd left her house for work on Monday morning. Today was Wednesday. Now his overly cheerful brother was in here instead, asking her for advice on home decorating. She'd shown him the books, darn it! What more did he want? "But do you think wall-to-wall carpet would be better for Trevor to crawl around on?" "How should I know?" she finally snapped. "I've never been around a baby in my life. Don't you have sisters with kids? Ask them!" His blue eyes looked startled. "Okay." He nodded slowly, then pulled on his coat. As she rang up his purchases, he peered at her more closely. "You all right?" 159


"Fine," she snapped. No way in hell was she about to explain to him what was wrong. She knew she should call Fitz, but she'd been expecting him to stop by, and hadn't really wanted to have that conversation over the phone. "Have a nice day!" **** "It's Almost Spring!" Fitz saw the sign in the flower shop window and had to laugh. The calendar might say spring started in a week or two, but the weather reports still said winter. There was a light flurry of snow falling even now, as he hurried down the street toward the book store. Work had been so stupidly hectic that he hadn't seen Ree in two days, and he was feeling like a jackass for not even calling her. Wait. Flowers. That might help get him out of the doghouse. He ducked into the florist's and selected a big batch of brightly-colored wildflowers. Somehow, those seemed more like Ree's type of thing than the dozen red roses he'd been thinking about. Carrying the paper-wrapped bouquet, he tipped the brim of his Stetson down to cut the wind, and moved down the street. He had to stifle a growl when he saw his baby brother emerge from Ree's shop. "Hey, stranger!" Fitz hadn't made it back to Trip's place for the last two nights, either, he'd crashed on the couch in the deputies' locker room. "What are you doing here?" 160


Trip smirked and held up a paper sack. "Buying books." Then he looked at the flowers in Fitz's hand. "You two have a fight? That might explain why she all but tossed me out the door." "She threw you out of the shop?" Fitz felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward. Then he glared down at Trip, enjoying every bit of his four-inch height advantage. "What did you do to her?" "Nothing, I swear!" Trip insisted. "Just asked a simple question, and she bit my head off." Maybe it was him she was mad at, Fitz mused as he walked into the shop. The look she gave him wasn't the warm smile he'd gotten used to. "Wondered if you were still alive," she snapped, then went back to whatever she'd been doing on the computer. Ouch! He went over and laid the flowers on the counter. "Sorry. I know I should have called, but work has been crazy." Her eyes flew up at that, wide and worried. He winced again. "Nothing dangerous," he assured her. "Just insane. Full moon, or something. I've got three deputies out with the flu, and it seems like every idiot in town has been up to something for the last couple days." "No, I'm sorry," she replied, squeezing her eyes shut and rubbing her forehead like it hurt. She was awfully pale, he noticed, and there were big dark circles under her eyes. Maybe she was coming down with this flu bug that had been going around. "I don't have any right to expect you to call. I was just—worried, I guess." 161


Why did those words feel like a punch in the gut? Fitz pushed the bouquet toward her on the counter. "Anyway, these are for you." She picked up the flowers and carefully unwrapped the paper covering. When she saw them, she did the last thing he'd ever expected, though maybe he should have. She hugged them close to her chest, and burst into tears. It took him maybe half a second to flip the closed sign, lock the door, and round the counter so he could pull her into his arms. He eased the flowers out of her hands so they wouldn't be crushed, then held her against his chest. "Shh, it's okay." He buried his lips in her curly hair while she cried, alternating kisses with whispers of attempted comfort. Finally done, she pulled away from his chest and giggled shakily. "Your coat is wet," she told him. "And your hat fell on the floor." He stepped back, barely missing his hat with the heel of his boot. He took off his coat, picked up his hat, and hung both of them on the rack she kept for customers in the corner. It was six-thirty, so he figured the store could stay closed for the night. He lowered the blinds. Ree was obviously in no shape to deal with customers. She was wiping her eyes with a tissue by the time he returned to her. He studied her face, decided she really did look peaky. "You feeling okay?" She shook her head and blew her nose. "No. It's been a rotten day and I feel like garbage. I've got a horrible headache, I'm exhausted, and I feel like I'm going to throw up." 162


That didn't sound good. Either she really did have the flu, or they were in even bigger trouble. Fitz swallowed his own moment of nausea. "Maybe we better get you upstairs, then." "It isn't closing time yet." Now she sounded like a petulant kid. He smiled. "Yes, it is. That's the joy of owning your own business. People here are used to it, don't worry." He took both her hands in his to tug her gently off the stool. "Upstairs." She gave him suspicious look, but nodded at the closed blinds and flipped sign before acquiescing. At the last second she snatched her flowers off the counter as she let him pull her toward the stairs. She didn't seem real steady, so he kept his arm around her all the way up the stairs, but she didn't look like she was going to pass out on him, or throw up on his boots, either, thank God. When he got her up to the apartment, he eased her down onto the sofa. "Okay?" She nodded. He took the flowers from her hand and left her three while he rummaged through the kitchen cupboards for something to stick them in. He didn't own a vase, and she'd only unpacked her pots and pans, so he settled for a beer mug, which would at least be big enough to hold them. He set the flowers down where she could see them, then moved to sit next to her on the couch. He reached out and tucked a few stray curls behind her ear. "So what's up, Ree? Is this the flu? Or something else?" He hated the shakiness he heard in his own voice, but hell, he couldn't help it. Any second now she was going to confirm his fears and tell him he was about to be a father. 163


"Something else," she admitted, rubbing her stomach. "I know that's the good news, but right now it doesn't feel like it." Fitz's world spun for a second, and he gripped the arm of the sofa for support. "I know I was supposed to call you, but I wasn't in the mood to talk to you this morning," she went on. "I wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody." She'd found out for sure this morning. He guessed he could forgive her for not calling him right away. "Did you take a test?" he asked, around the lump in his throat. "Are you sure?" "Of course I'm sure," she said, shooting him an odd look. "And there's no need for a test. Trust me, when I start, I start. Hard. There's no question about it." "When you what?" Okay, now he had no clue what she was talking about. She finally seemed to catch onto that, because she covered her face with her hand and stifled a laugh. "Oh, you poor thing," she said. "You've got it totally backwards, don't you? I told you I didn't feel good and you thought it was because I'm pregnant! I said I was tired and cranky and nauseous. I forgot to mention the cramps, and the mood swings. I'm sorry, Fitz, I didn't mean to scare you. Those are all the symptoms I get when I'm not pregnant." "You're not?" Okay, he could breathe again, but he still had this funny little ache in his chest. He shook his head. "Some women have easy periods, some don't," she told him, clearly a little embarrassed. "I'm not one of the lucky ones. I get really bad cramps, and for the first day or so, I 164


always feel tired and crabby and sick. My cycle started early this morning. We're off the hook, Fitz. I'm definitely not pregnant." Then she burst into tears again. "Poor thing." He pulled her onto his lap and held her through another round of sobs. Apparently she wasn't exaggerating about the mood swings, so he figured she wasn't about the physical effects either. He'd grown up with two sisters, and he'd been married for a while. He understood that menstruation affected different women differently. He also knew that there was no way a man could ever have a clue what to do in a situation like this. But hugs were usually safe, at least with Ree. So he'd just keep on holding her till she told him to do something else. **** The man made a mean grilled cheese sandwich. Ree was curled up on the couch with a blanket tucked around her and a makeshift tray on her lap. In reality it was a cookie sheet, but Fitz was being so unbelievably sweet, she didn't care what it was. After she'd cried all over him, he'd dried her tears, bundled her into comfy sweats, and then proceeded to feed her. He'd even guessed she had a special tea blend for this time of the month, and asked her how to brew some for her. A girl could get used to being treated like this. "How's your stomach?" He looked over at her plate, frowning at the half sandwich she had left. "Can I get you anything else?" 165


Ree shook her head. "No, this is wonderful. How did you know that grilled cheese is one of my favorite comfort foods?" His grin was a bit lopsided, and it made her want to kiss that uneven little quirk. "I didn't. It's just the one thing I know how to make that you had the stuff for." "Ah. I just got lucky. Thanks anyway. You do it well." Heck, he did everything well, which was in stark contrast to her unique ability to screw up everything she touched. She leaned back into the cushions and closed her eyes. She was feeling better, whether from the tea, the food, or the emotional release of the crying jag, but she was still too close to tears for comfort. "Yeah, well I've been single for a long time. I'm not much of a cook, but I have to be able to feed myself on occasion, you know." The reminder that he'd been married hit her like a brick. But there was some perverse, masochistic part of her brain that needed to know more, and right now her filters weren't up to censoring it. "What was she like?" "Who?" He munched on the first half of his third sandwich. "Your—" She couldn't bring herself to say wife. "Your ex." "Shelley? God, that was more than a decade ago. Who cares?" "You do." Silly man. "You still think every woman you meet is like her." "No, I don't." "Then why are you so worried about your sister-in-law leaving your brother? She's obviously crazy about him, and she seems totally happy about living on a ranch." She was 166


more concerned about his opinions of her, but she figured Allison was a safer topic. "Yeah. But she's only been there since Christmas. What happens when the novelty wears off?" "I don't know. I haven't known a lot of couples who are that deeply in love with one another, but I'll be really surprised if those two don't make it. If I had some guy who looked at me like CJ looks at her, I think I could live on the moon, if that's what it took. Lots of people seem to be perfectly happy here in Shirley, why shouldn't she?" Fitz shrugged. "All I know is that Shelley barely lasted six months, and she spent every one of those complaining. She was fine when we lived in Germany. But when I got discharged, she expected to end up somewhere on the east coast." "So you married her when you were in the army?" He nodded. "Her university had an exchange program over there." "So you got married there, then brought her here?" "No. I spent a year in the Middle East. She came home then, lived with her parents in Boston. When I was discharged, I went there first, then brought her home with me." "And you didn't know till you got here, that she didn't like small towns?" He scratched his chin, and she could hear his callused fingers scrape along the razor stubble. She wanted to feel it for herself, rub her own smooth cheek along his raspy one, 167


but knew she wasn't up for sex tonight, so she took another bite of her sandwich, and tried not to feel let down. "She'd never spent any time in one. I tried to convince her to give it a chance, but she was never happy here." "Right from the beginning?" "Yeah, I guess so." "So it's not like she liked it at first, then changed her mind?" "Well, she tried, at first. At least she seemed to." "And when she left, why didn't you follow her? If you loved her, shouldn't you have tried to live where she wanted to?" Fitz shook his head. "By the time she split, there was no pretense of love left between us. Just two slightly wiser kids, glad to get out of a stupid mistake with relatively minor damage." "You didn't have kids, right?" Ree didn't want to analyze why she felt downright violent about the idea that any other woman had borne Fitz's baby. He shook his head, and a look passed through his eyes that resembled pain. "Once I was out of the army, I brought up the idea. But she said she didn't want kids, at least right away. A year later I heard she'd married some guy back east, and was already pregnant. I guess she just didn't want kids with me." "Idiot!" Ree mumbled the epithet so Fitz wouldn't hear. Out loud, she said, "I don't think you need to worry about your brother, Fitz. I think Allison is a very different type of woman. From what I've seen, you couldn't budge her from that ranch with a bulldozer." 168


"I hope you're right," he agreed. She didn't think he understood that she was talking more about herself than about the other woman, but maybe she could get it through his head a little at a time. Ree finished her sandwich in silence. "Wanna watch TV?" She looked up as Fitz collected her dishes. It was still early. She was tired, but not ready for sleep, and she really wasn't ready for him to leave. "Okay." When he returned with a fresh mug of tea for her and lemonade for himself, she scooted over on the sofa, to make room for him beside her. He took the hint, and she snuggled up against him happily. **** She woke to music. Not just any music, but a tinny-sounding country song that seemed to be coming from somewhere in the vicinity of her left ear. There was movement in the bed beside her, then a strong arm draped over her head to grab the cell phone off the nightstand. "Hall." Oh yeah. Ree smiled as she wiggled backward in the bed, snuggling closer to Fitz. She couldn't believe that he'd stayed the night, even though he'd known perfectly well that there wasn't going to be any sex. When the movie ended, he'd just scooped her up, carried her to bed, and climbed in beside her. He'd even left her clothed, sort of, in one of her oversized 169


night shirts. But she could still enjoy the fact that he was lying next to her in all his naked glory. Yum! "Okay. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Try to keep anybody from killing anybody else till then, okay?" "Yeah, right! Thanks." Fitz sat up and scratched as he flipped his phone shut. "Shit!" "Work?" Ree murmured, still pressing up against his comforting warmth. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost three in the morning, before closing her eyes again. "Yeah." He paused to yawn. "More craziness. I've got to go in early. Seems two of the drunks who got in fight at the bar last night are the brothers of two of my deputies. So then those two got into it, right there in the office." "Everybody all right?" "As far as I know. But they need to have their butts officially chewed out and be sent home. With this flu going around, there's nobody else to call in to cover." He leaned over to kiss her before climbing out of bed. "Okay." She yawned back at him after returning the kiss. Late-night calls were part of the deal with Fitz, she'd already accepted that inconvenient fact. When they were dangerous, she'd worry, but she couldn't hold him back, couldn't stop him from being who he needed to be. She simply roused herself enough to kiss him again after he'd dressed and pulled on his boots. "Be careful." "I will. And if you're still feeling rotten in a few hours, call Lily to come watch the store. She won't mind." 170


Ree had already arranged for Lily to work a half-day in the morning, though it had originally been so she could pop next door to get her hair trimmed. She simply murmured, "Okay," again, and snuggled back into bed, this time cuddling the pillow that still smelled like him. But she didn't go right back to sleep, instead she lay there thinking. She never had told Fitz why she'd fallen apart the second time tonight. In fact, she hadn't even admitted it to herself till just now. In her current, overly emotional state, she'd been hit with one unexpected emotion that came completely out of left field. Disappointment. Much as she hated to admit it, a big part of her had been hoping that she was pregnant. That's why she'd been so jealous of Allison that she'd wanted to spit, even though she'd liked her so much. The thought of a baby with Fitz's dark eyes and hair set up a longing like she'd never felt for anything before in her life. She knew, rationally, that they were still a bad combination, marriage-wise. She'd spent so many years being told what to do that she was still enjoying her freedom, and now that she had the store, she loved every day of being her own boss. A husband would mean subjugating herself again, and giving up that precious independence, and she was nowhere near ready for that. A baby, on the other hand, was a different proposition altogether. Babies meant obligation, sure, and an enormous amount of work, but they didn't criticize and they also meant unconditional love in return. The problem, though was that Ree was totally uninterested in the idea of making a baby with anybody other than Fitz. 171


She tried to imagine his reaction if she suggested it. Would he laugh? Be offended? Be flattered? She really had no idea. She knew he'd try to insist on marriage, but she wasn't going to give in on that, so he'd eventually get over it. She'd let him be as involved as he wanted, of course. She'd never deny her child a father. The fact that somewhere out there she might still have a father of her own, one who had never shown any interest at all in being part of her life, still stung. No matter what, she would never, ever wish that on another human being. Now all she had to do was get Fitz to agree. He might not go for it at first, she acknowledged. She figured it would take a few months for him to get used to the idea. That was okay. It would give her time to get more established in the shop and around town. Ree finally fell asleep while making happy plans. Would it be a little girl, maybe with dark curls and green eyes? Or a tall little boy, with his father's brooding good looks? She didn't care, would be thrilled with whatever child the fates blessed her with. Her dreams for the rest of the morning were filled with laughing little faces and sticky little hands. She woke relaxed, refreshed, and ready to take on the next stage of her life. **** Fitz hated the full moon. The craziness hadn't abated, and now even more of his staff was out sick. Even Doris had finally succumbed, and she hadn't taken a sick day in over five years. 172


By the time he finally managed a break, it was almost six o'clock. He'd gotten a call off to Ree mid-afternoon, knew she was working in the shop and feeling better. But he wanted to see for himself that the shadows were gone from her eyes. He knew he wasn't going to be able to make love to her tonight, but it was good, somehow, just to be with her. But it would be better to wait till closing time, so he decided to run out to Trip's for some clean clothes. Then he had the idea to stop for some take-out, so she wouldn't feel obligated to cook. He didn't even blink about ordering vegetarian. When he did finally stroll into the book store, at seven on the dot, Fitz was all set for another relaxing evening on the couch. "Hi!" Ree was all smiles as she looked up at him. "Go ahead and lock, up, would you? I'll get the register shut down." "Had a good day?" "I had a fabulous day!" He bent over and kissed her, gratified when she returned it as enthusiastically as possible with the counter between them. "But how was yours?" she asked, those big green eyes scanning every line of his face. "Everything's still crazy at the office, isn't it?" He nodded. "But I did have good news today. Sort of. They removed a tumor from Hector Evans's brain. He might actually come out of this okay. And even if he doesn't, the kids will at least know that his reasons had nothing to do with them, or their mother." 173


"That's good. I know that his wife is getting a lot of support from the community. Mrs. Larsen stopped in and bought some books for the little ones. I hear she's taking care of them while Mrs. Evans works." "Yeah," he confirmed. "And there's a pancake breakfast next Saturday to raise money for Hector's medical and legal bills." "I already have a ticket," she confirmed. "Chamber of Commerce is selling them. In fact, you can buy them here if you want." She held up a jar of cash with a sign taped to the front. Behind it was a stack of computer-printed tickets. "Ted Strong didn't make you pay your own dues, did he?" Fitz asked. "It's the shop's membership, and Harry had already paid." "He tried," Ree laughed. "But Lily had already warned me about him. He did manage to get me on the committee for the spring festival, though." "Why am I not surprised?" "That I want to get involved?" She checked Cassius's water dish and turned off the lights. He followed her, carrying the bags of take-out. "No, that you were too soft-hearted to say no." "I didn't want to say no," she told him as she led him into her apartment. "It's important to me to get involved in the community. This is my home now. I want to be a part of things." He knew she meant it. And he was even beginning to feel something strangely like hope. Maybe, just maybe, she would like it here enough to stay. 174


She got out plates while he unpacked the bags. "Hope you like Korean." "From that little shop next to the hardware store? I haven't tried it yet." "Mmm-hmm. Best take-out in town. I've been assured that the Buddha's delight is good even though it doesn't have any meat." It was fun to tease her, more fun yet when she laughed. "Chopsticks or forks?" "Chopsticks," she opted, settling into a chair across from him. They chatted through dinner, and Fitz felt all the tension of the day drain away from him. Finally, she loaded the plates into the dishwasher while he cleaned up the trash. Then they settled on opposite ends of the sofa, with their stocking-clad feet intertwined on the scarred-up old coffee table. "I had an idea, today," she began, her toe toying with his. "You don't have to say anything yet, I'd just like you to think about it for a while." "Okay." This couldn't be good. Conversations that started like this were never good. Fitz wished he'd poured a shot of Scotch in his lemonade. "Part of the reason I was crying last night, though I hate to admit this, is that I was sort of disappointed when I found out I wasn't pregnant." Fitz was never going to understand women, but he nodded anyway. He wasn't about to analyze the dull ache in his own chest last night. He was relieved, damn it, not disappointed. Of course, now he was mostly nervous. Where was she going 175


with this? Without realizing it, he held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Anyway, it got me thinking. I'm almost thirty years old. I own my own business now, and I don't have any plans to settle down in the near future." Okay, so this wasn't a marriage proposal. Fitz let himself breathe again. "But I do want a child. Not necessarily right away, but sometime, before I'm too much older." He stopped breathing again, and shot her a questioning look. She was staring down at her hands, which were twisting in her lap. "And I'd like you to be the father." Now she looked up at him, and to his horror, her expression was deadly serious. "So basically, what I'm asking, Fitz, is if you'll consider the possibility of giving me a baby." Now he hadn't just stopped breathing, he'd completely forgotten how. Everything inside his chest was compressed into one tight, ice-cold knot, and the bottom had fallen out of his stomach. He just stared at her, his mouth hanging open, while the glass of lemonade slipped out of his hand to spill on the rug. "What?" When he finally did find his voice, it came out of him in a hoarse wheeze. "You've got to be kidding me!" "No. She shook her head, staring at her hands again. "I'm not kidding, and I'm not crazy. Just think about it, okay? That's all I'm asking you to do." He stood and pulled on his boots, then stalked over to grab his hat and coat off the pegs. "If this is some kind of half176


assed attempt to trap me into marriage, it isn't going to work. You had your chance at that one. And if it isn't, well then, lady, you really are crazy!" He slammed out the door and down the stairs before he could throw something, punch something, or worst of all, cry.

177


Chapter Ten Well. That had gone even worse than she'd expected. She wasn't surprised by his anger, not really. What had taken her aback was the expression in his eyes that had looked impossibly like hurt. She hadn't anticipated that. She didn't even understand it. Shouldn't he be flattered that she wanted him as the father for her child? That would have made sense. She would have even understood it if he'd acted repulsed. But hurt? That, she just didn't get. Whatever he'd been feeling, though, he obviously had no further interest in discussing it with Ree. It had been almost a week, and he hadn't even returned her calls. In fact, he'd had a deputy swing by to pick up his mail. This was definitely not good. She was debating the possibility of walking into his office and demanding that he talk to her. There were two problems with that plan, though, at least two that she'd come up with so far. One, she knew he really was busy, and she didn't want to interrupt anything important. Two, Fitz was entirely capable of throwing her out in front of his entire staff, and she wasn't quite ready for public humiliation. Not yet. She looked up when the bell jingled and forced a smile onto her face for Fitz's sister-in-law Allison. "I'm here to look for math books," Allison announced, after greeting Ree warmly. "I'm sure you've heard about the afterschool tutoring program we're trying to start up?" 178


"I have, and I think it's fabulous," Ree replied, relieved that the visit was business, and not about Fitz. "So many kids, especially girls are afraid of math and get the idea in their heads that they just can't do it. I was like that as a kid. It took a really good teacher while I was in business school to convince me that math is just common sense, and that anybody can learn it if they try." "Exactly," Allison agreed enthusiastically. "I was a math teacher back in Virginia, and I saw that over and over. Now I'm in a situation where I'm not looking for a full-time job just yet." She patted her tummy, and Ree fought down a wave of jealousy as Allison continued. "But I do need to do something useful. So what I'm looking for is workbooks, that kind of thing, with alternative explanations, and examples that are a little more real-world than those in the standard textbooks. I'll need a range of materials, from seventh grade through basic algebra." "I have a few in stock," Ree answered. "The typical helpyour-child-at-home stuff. I also have some really good catalogs if you want to look through them." "That would be great," Allison agreed with another smile. "Think I can have a cup of your herbal tea while I look?" "Help yourself," Ree assured her. Go ahead and hang up your coat while I get the catalogs. But today's tea blend is an apple-ginger mix. Try a little bit first to see if it's too spicy for your stomach." "That shouldn't be a problem," Allison said with a laugh. "He or she seems to like spicy foods. I'm always craving things with garlic and jalapenos." 179


"Well, the cookies are oatmeal-raisin, so no help there," Ree replied. "But they're high in fiber, if you need any justification." She ducked into her office for the catalogs. When she returned, the other woman was seated at the childsized table in the children's section, going through the work books, and nibbling on a cookie. Since Allison was slim, as well as even shorter than Ree's five-foot-three, she actually fit. "So how did you end up out here?" Ree asked. "You said you're from Virginia?" Allison made a face. "That is a really long story, and parts of it aren't very pretty." But over the course of the next hour she spun Ree a fantastic tale involving a failed wedding, a snowstorm, and the ghost she'd mentioned that day at the ranch. "It's an adjustment, being part of such a big, close family," Allison admitted. "But it's wonderful, too. You saw what they were like when we announced the baby. Not one of them said a word about the fact that we'd only been married three weeks, but I was almost three months pregnant." "Is that why you got married?" Ree wondered just how much alike the brothers were in that respect. "No. We had the date set before we even knew about the baby. Since the plans were already in place, we didn't see a need to rush them forward." "I don't blame you a bit," Ree told her. "Envy you, maybe. I'm not sure I've ever seen a couple who looks as happy as the two of you. You're a very lucky woman." 180


"I know," Allison agreed fervently. "CJ is everything I ever dreamed of and more. And his family has been so welcoming..." She paused with a wry grin. "Well, except for Fitz. We really didn't hit it off in the beginning. And he can be kind of intimidating. But I think he was just being protective of CJ." Intimidating? Ree supposed, though she didn't think of Fitz like that. At work, maybe. It was a persona she was sure he'd cultivated for his role as sheriff. But on a personal level she knew he would never hurt a fly. Physically. Ripping her heart out was another matter entirely. "Ree, did something happen between you and Fitz?" Allison was asking. "I'm not trying to be nosy, but he was out at the ranch this weekend, and he was in a terrible mood. When you came out for the party, he was all cheerful, at least for him, smiling and goofing around with the kids. Then this weekend he was an absolute bear. So I wondered if you two had a fight or something." "Or something," Ree agreed glumly. There were no other customers in the store right now, so she sank down into the kiddy chair across from her new friend. "He hasn't spoken to me in five days." Allison wrinkled her nose. "Now see, I wouldn't call that a bad thing, but I'm guessing it is, for you. What happened?" Ree desperately wanted to tell somebody, but she couldn't. She knew that Fitz would be horrified if any of this story got back to his family, and that mattered more to Ree than the catharsis of spilling her guts. So she just shook her head. 181


"Fundamental differences of opinion," she answered. "I don't think our lifestyles mesh together very well." "But if he's unhappy about being apart, and you're unhappy about being apart, doesn't that tell you something?" Ree shrugged. "I don't really know. I haven't been involved in enough relationships to have a clue about how they're supposed to work. I spent most of my adult life taking care of an ailing grandmother. Then I was working full time and going to school full time. I never had time to learn about the rules of dating. And apparently, I screwed them up big time." Allison smiled and reached across the table to lay a hand on Ree's arm. "I'd say give him some time. In my admittedly limited experience with Fitz Hall, he can be stubborn, but eventually he comes around. I do know that when he cares about people, he cares very deeply, and I've picked up enough bits and pieces to know that he's been hurt pretty badly in the past." Ree nodded. She wasn't about to tell the other woman that she knew about Fitz's brief marriage and divorce. "I know he was pretty horrified to find out that you weren't as happy with your adopted grandmother as Harry had been led to believe. Harry used to talk about you quite a bit, you know. He was so proud when you got your degree, he showed everybody the pictures his detective had gotten. He and Fitz were close friends, and I know his death was hard on Fitz, who was already in shock about CJ and me getting married."

182


"I know. I very much would have liked the chance to get to know Harry, and right now, I really wish he was here so I could pick his brain about this whole business with Fitz." "He was a great old guy," Allison said with a sigh. "You would have adored him." She piled up the books and catalogs that were spread out in front of her. "Well, I have my wish list, and if I don't show up for lunch soon, CJ will send out the cavalry after me, and nobody wants that." Since in this case the cavalry could very well mean Fitz, Ree wasn't too sure. She kept thinking that if she could find a way to talk to him, to make him understand that she hadn't meant to hurt him, maybe even to apologize, then things would go back to the way they'd been, with him in her arms at least a few nights a week. She rang up Allison's purchase and placed her orders from the catalogs before waving her on her way to the café. **** Some days it just wasn't worth getting out of bed. Fitz had been having a lot of those in the last week. Of course going to bed was a whole different set of problems, because he wasn't sleeping, either. "Harper offered to take Trevor for the weekend," Trip mentioned over breakfast Friday morning. "We could drive up to Laramie, hit a few clubs, and maybe pick up a couple of pretty waitresses." That sounded like something Trip would have said. Two years ago, when he was still a stuntman, and before he'd had Trevor. Since this was the first time since they'd moved back 183


to Shirley that Trip had volunteered to be parted from his son, Fitz was instantly suspicious. It was also, as far as Fitz knew, the first time Trip had expressed an interest in dating since his accident. He supposed that was a good sign, but he still didn't trust it. Besides, the idea of a one-night stand with a total stranger held no appeal whatsoever. "Think I'll pass," he told Trip. "But go ahead if you want." Trip grumbled, "Wouldn't be any fun all by myself," confirming Fitz's suspicion that this was a sibling-orchestrated intervention. If Trip had really wanted to go, he wouldn't have cared one bit if Fitz was along for the ride. God, was he that pathetic? He knew he hadn't been in the best of moods since parting company with Ree, but was it really that bad? Apparently so, judging by the next words out of Trip's mouth. "Then for heaven's sake, go talk to her. I'm tired of living with a walking zombie. Admit that you're miserable, and do something about it. You're driving us all nuts!" "There's nothing to talk about." At least nothing he figured he could talk about. He wanted to try talking to her, at least part of him did. And not just the part he kept in his pants. He missed just talking to her, too, or holding her on his lap while they watched TV. He just plain missed her. But there was no way things were ever going to work between the two of them. Their lifestyles, their thought processes, their basic values were just too far apart. And deep down in his gut, part of him still expected her to leave someday. If he wasn't careful, if he went back to her now, she'd take his whole heart with her when she did. He couldn't 184


afford to let that happen. When Shelley had walked out, she'd bruised his heart and broken his pride. But this thing he had with Ree was much bigger, deeper, than anything he'd ever had with Shelley, or anyone else for that matter. If he let himself fall the rest of the way in love with Rhiannon, when she left, there'd be nothing left of Fitz but a dried-out husk. Having taken pains to avoid her, Fitz was stunned to run into Ree at the grocery store. He didn't know why this shocked him. He knew she had to eat. But he had literally run into her, just stepped around a corner and felt something smack into his chest. He simply stood there and stared, while the can of green beans he'd been holding rolled off and under a shelf. Ree rubbed her nose. "You all right?" She had such a cute nose, he'd hate to have damaged it. "I will be in a minute," she replied evenly. "How about you?" "Your nose isn't much of a weapon. I'm fine." She mumbled something under her breath that sounded like, "That wasn't what I meant." Out loud she said, "That's nice. Did you know you're standing on my foot?" Shit! He stepped back hurriedly, knowing his size fourteen boots could crush her tiny toes. "Sorry." She gave him a sad little grin. "It's all right. At least I have boots on, too." They stood there for a few seconds in awkward silence, till Fitz noticed the bag of flour she'd dropped next to her foot. He picked it up and handed it to her. 185


"How's the shop?" "How's it going with your house?" They each asked at the exact same moment. She smiled, but again it was weak, and he found himself wishing he could say something to put the light back in those soulful emerald eyes. Anything, except "yes you can have my baby before you walk out of my life." That was just more than he could bear. "The house deal is moving along fine," he told her. "We should be closing in about two weeks." "Then you'll want your furniture back." He watched her swallow hard. Great, now he'd given her something else to worry about! At least this one he could fix, for the most part. "Only the leather recliner is mine," he told her. "And the TV. The rest was Harry's when he lived in the apartment." There were a few other odds and ends, but he wasn't going to worry about them. Hell, he'd happily buy her a new TV, and he'd never seen her sit in the recliner anyway. Unless she was on his lap. It was sized for him, she'd be lost in the thing. "Oh. Well, whenever you want it, let me know. And I can box up your dishes and books and things, too." "No hurry." Why did it feel like his divorce, all over again? Only with less shouting and more grief. They'd never even really lived together, for heaven's sake! She turned to go. "Take care, Fitz. "You, too." And he stood there, staring like a moon-struck calf as she walked away. He didn't even realize till he got home that night that he never had retrieved his can of beans. **** 186


She was sitting alone in the shop on Sunday afternoon because it was better than being alone upstairs. Technically, she wasn't alone at all, because if she stayed down here, Cassius Cat was willing to curl up on her lap. He still absolutely refused to go up to the apartment. Seeing Fitz in the grocery store Friday morning had been hard, harder than Ree had expected. But she knew she had to get used to it. Fitz was too much a part of this town for her to avoid running into him. Her choices were to cope with that, or to leave. And she wasn't leaving. This was her home, now, and even if she couldn't have Fitz, couldn't have everything she wanted, she wasn't giving up this new life she'd come to love. She stroked Cass's soft fur and stared into the gaspowered flames. It was a gray, drizzly day, almost as gloomy as Ree's mood. She didn't have any lights on in the shop, so the flickering fire was the only illumination, and it cast dancing shadows around the cluttered room. "I wish I knew what to do, Granddad," she said out loud. "I really screwed it up this time." "That you did, my girl." "What?" Panicked, she looked around for the source of the voice. Cassius gave her a short, aggrieved mew at being dislodged from his napping spot, then stretched before ambling over to the other sofa across the rug. He hopped up and purred, rubbing against an indistinct blur, which gradually formed into the shape of a man. "Hello, granddaughter." 187


Ree just gulped and stared. "Surprised to see me?" She nodded. "Don't know why. It's not like I'm the first ghost you've talked to." "Huh?" Yeah, she was being eloquent now. "There's a reason your young man didn't know who Jack is," the man across from her, who was now clear and petting Cassius like an old friend, told her. "Jack was his greatgreat—well, I'm not sure how many times great, grandpa. Most people see his wife, Singing Bird, and then only when she wants them to. Takes a special kind of person to see other ghosts, like me and Jack." Okay, apparently she'd had a total nervous breakdown and was now hallucinating. But it was a cool hallucination, and she didn't think she was liable to hurt anybody, so maybe she'd just sit here for a while and enjoy it. "You're not dreaming, and you're not crazy," the vision told her. He looked almost exactly like the picture she'd hung above the desk, but not quite. His hair was a little longer, a little thinner, and a slate gray instead of dark brown. His face was deeply grooved, not the smooth skin of the young corporal. "At least, no crazier than you ever were. You were always an intuitive girl, Rhiannon. Always able to feel what others were feeling. You get that from my side, you know. My granny McKie used to have what they called 'the Sight' back then. You're a lot like her, down to the red hair and green eyes." 188


"Are you here all the time?" she asked. "Here in the shop?" She hoped he hadn't been upstairs, at least not when Fitz had been there. "In and out," Harry replied. "But so far, only here in the shop. Don't know why, but this ghost business is different, for different folks. Some people come back, they can go wherever they want. Some know things before they happen, can warn people while some don't know a blasted thing more than they did when they were alive. Others, just show up somewhere and they're stuck. Me, I'm here. Seems to have something to do with you." "I'm your unfinished business," she said wryly. She was certainly unfinished something! "Could be," he agreed calmly. "I know I did you a terrible disservice by not demanding custody of your mother the day I found out she existed. It was easier, I suppose, to let myself be fooled. I wanted to think she was happy, that she didn't need or want a sorry excuse for a father in her life when she already had one that seemed to be doing the job." Is—" Ree's voice caught, but she forced herself to continue. "Is my mother a ghost, too?" Harry shook his head. "No. It takes a certain strength of personality and force of will to come back, and she was always a pretty passive soul, like her mother. But they're here, and they're watching over you, never doubt that. I've made my peace with both of them now. At last. They both say to tell you they love you. Your ma wishes she'd been there to see you grow up." 189


"Tell them not to worry. I turned out okay." She grinned. "Assuming I'm not having hallucinations, that is. And I love them both. I know neither of them abandoned me by choice." "Like your father did, is that what you mean?" Busted! She looked away from his knowing gaze. He looked so solid, it was hard to remember that he wasn't really there. "I suppose." "You know, I've wondered," Harry began. "If he did ever try to get in touch, how would he have had to do it?" "I don't know. Mail. Phone. Pony express. Something." "And if it had been while you were still a minor, who would he have had to go through?" "My grandmother. I mean great-aunt..." "She legally adopted your ma. You can call her grandmother, if you want. It's no skin off my nose." He scratched the tip of his crooked beak and winked. "'Course my nose doesn't have skin any more! But back to the whole communication thing. Seems like she made a practice of keeping people out of the loop. That's one of those things I haven't been able to find out about here. All I know is she did it once. She might've done it again." It was possible, Ree supposed. Maybe at some point her father had tried to contact her, only to be told by her grandmother that Ree would be better off if he didn't. It still didn't seem likely, given that the man had left her mother only months after Ree's birth, but it did give her something new to think about, anyway.

190


"I'd been thinking you could ask a certain sheriff to maybe do some investigating," Harry said. "Of course now that doesn't seem like such a good idea." "No, probably not. I messed that up big time!" "This is where I came in. He's a good man, you know." Why did everyone keep telling her that? Did she look that stupid? "I know that. If he wasn't I wouldn't be so ticked off with myself for chasing him away." "And he's been through the wringer a time or two." She rolled her eyes. "Why does everybody keep telling me what I already know? How about some useful insight for a change?" "Seems fair. What would you like to know?" "Well, first of all, why was he so darned offended by what I said? He didn't have to agree. All he had to do was think about it, and then tell me no. Instead he acts like I stabbed him in the back." "Feelings are funny things, Rhiannon. And they're awfully easy to hurt." "I know that!" She tried not to explode, or to burst into tears, both of which were about equally likely at the moment. "Why I don't know is how? How did I hurt him, and how do I fix it? If I even can fix it!" She slumped back into the soft leather of the sofa. "Maybe we're just not meant to be together." "Now that's something I can't tell you. Only the two of you can figure that one out. But I've been watching you these last few weeks, Ree. You're an intelligent and sensitive girl. So you tell me. Why would asking a man like Fitzgerald Hall to 191


violate his principles, and go against every ethic he holds dear, be hurtful?" Had she really asked him to do that? Oh wow! She swallowed hard. "Because to a man like Fitz, honor, needing to do the right thing, is at the very core of his personality." "Right. Now keep going." "So asking him to do something he considers morally wrong is the same as asking him to abandon that honor." The horror that was dawning in her brain felt like it was also eating a hole in her stomach. How could she have been so cosmically insensitive? She forced herself to say the rest of it out loud. "And by asking him to abandon his sense of honor and decency, I basically told him that everything he believes in is totally worthless, meaning I essentially told him that he was worthless!" And in her not so humble opinion, nothing could be further from the truth. He was the least worthless man she'd ever met. She swiped at the tears that were pooling in the corners of her eyes. "Told you you were smart." Her grandfather's ghost gave her an approving little nod and a warm smile. "So, you made a mistake. Probably isn't the first one, probably won't be the last. The question is, what are you going to do about it?" "I've got to go talk to him, tell him I was wrong." "That would be a good start." "I should probably also tell him that I'm in love with him." She was, and it was time she'd admitted it. Somewhere along the way, she'd fallen head over heels for the tall, stubborn cowboy. "And that not knowing how to cope with that is part of why I fouled up so badly." 192


The ghost nodded again. "Might help." "And I should probably finish up by telling him that having him in my life any way I can get him is more important than anything else, even having a child. I'll take him as a friend, boyfriend, whatever he's willing to be. I'd rather be Fitz's friend and nobody's mom, than be somebody's mom without Fitz." "Now you've got it. So what are you doing sitting around here talking to an old man, and a dead one at that? Get going." She'd already stood and whirled toward the door. She'd run into one of his deputies at the café yesterday and knew he'd gone out to his brother's ranch. Allison's math books had arrived yesterday. While she didn't normally deliver merchandise, it was a big order, and she could use it as an excuse if Fitz wasn't still there. "I will see you again, won't I?" she asked Harry, after getting directions to the Crazy H. "There are so many more things I want to talk to you about." "I'll be here. Now you go take care of my boy." Cassius stretched and sprawled across his master's lap, telling her the ghost was solid in form. So before she ran upstairs for her raincoat and keys, she darted over to the sofa and kissed her grandfather's whiskery, but strangely cool, cheek. "Thank you, Harry. I love you." He gave her a quick squeeze around the shoulders. "Love you too, Ree. Now git!" **** 193


It was rotten weather for riding, but there was nowhere else he wanted to be, so Fitz pulled his hat down against the pervasive cold drizzle and kept his horse headed along the fence line. What the hell was he going to do about Ree? He couldn't imagine her in his life, but he couldn't imagine life without her anymore, either. She drank herbal tea and didn't eat meat, while he'd been raised on a cattle ranch. She listened to weird indigenous flute music, while he liked George Strait. She was impulsive and insecure and into wacky new-age nonsense, and he'd never understand the twists and turns that went on in her head, not if he had a million years. But she was also warm and caring and bright. She'd done wonders with the shop, making an already successful business even more so, and damn if people didn't actually buy her crystals and candles. She stood out in the cold because she gave her coat to a couple of traumatized kids. And she hadn't even had to think about it. She never complained when he got called in to work in the middle of the night, but she was always ready to soothe away his aches after a rough day. She'd been a virgin when he met her, and she'd never blamed him once for the night he'd been too sick to know what he was doing. She was sweet to everybody in town, but she only turned into a firecracker for him. She was more than a foot shorter than he was, but she fit in his arms like nobody else ever had. She wanted him to give her a baby, but not to marry her. That was the kicker. How the hell was a guy supposed to take a suggestion like that? She didn't want him, but she 194


wouldn't mind his DNA? Did she stop to think for a second about how he might feel about that? That he might not want to wake up in the morning and wonder what his kid was doing today? He wasn't interested in being an every-other-weekend dad. If he ever had kids, he was damn sure going to be living in the same house. And he had a house now, he mused. A big, rambling threestory house. So maybe it was time to start thinking about filling up a few of those extra bedrooms. He'd spent the last couple of weeks living with his infant nephew, and he had to admit, there'd been a moment or two when he'd wished the little tyke was his. He could picture Ree in that house. She'd paint it in the bright warm colors the old painted lady deserved. She'd fill the big yard with an explosion of flowers. He had no doubt about that, either. And in the evenings she'd sit with him on that porch swing she'd talked about, sipping tea that looked like grass clippings, and telling him about her day in the store, while two or three kids, and maybe even a dog played in the yard. And when a call came in the middle of the night, she'd kiss him goodbye and tell him to be safe. And then she'd worry till he got home, and he could kiss her fears away. A man could do a hell of a lot worse for a future. He wasn't the easiest man in the world to live with. It hadn't taken an ex-wife to teach him that; he had siblings. He knew he was surly and stubborn and inclined to be bossy. He also knew Ree's grandmother had been a tyrant, knew that Ree was afraid of giving up the freedom she'd waited so long 195


to find. But now that he'd thought about it, she'd never suggested that they end their relationship. She just hadn't mentioned marriage. Fitz was an old-fashioned guy, but was it worth holding onto that if it meant losing the woman he loved? He did love Ree. It might not be the smartest thing he'd ever done, but somewhere along the way, he'd gone and fallen head over heels. And he was pretty damn sure that it was the kind of love that only happened once in a man's life. The kind of love that lasted forever. So what was he going to do about it? The drizzle started to freeze, and he turned his horse back toward the ranch. It was time to head back into town, since he had no interest in spending any more time as a third wheel in his brother's house. Allie wasn't feeling well, which meant CJ was a basket case. But seeing them together had helped Fitz put his own thoughts into perspective. He'd finally figured out that Allie wasn't a damn thing like Shelley, and neither was Ree. Just because a woman had started life in a big city didn't mean she couldn't make a home out here. If Ree wanted any kind of life with Fitz, then he figured she could have it. He'd ask her to move in with him, into the big Victorian house that they'd turn into a home. Sure, he'd probably spend the rest of his life trying to convince her to marry him, but if the piece of paper was the only thing that stood between them, Fitz could learn to live without it. And in time, when they were both ready, he'd give her those babies she wanted. 196


He nudged the gelding's flanks with his heels, in a hurry now to get back to Ree. Now that he finally had his head together, there was no more time to waste. **** Harry's directions were a little vague, but Ree thought she remembered the way to the ranch. Of course, when she'd ridden there with Fitz, she'd been more focused on him than on the road. The drizzle that had been falling all day was starting to freeze on the windshield, and the wipers made a scratching sound instead of a whoosh. While freezing rain was far from her favorite condition to drive in, it wasn't an unfamiliar one either. She'd seen plenty of that in Michigan. She eased her foot off the accelerator, slowing to account for the slippery road surface. The drive took a half hour in good weather, more than an hour in this, so she'd had plenty of time to second-guess herself. She probably should have called. What if Fitz had already left for town? What if nobody was home? Now that last one was just silly, she chided herself. The ranch was a business, with employees. Somebody would be there. And if Fitz wasn't among them, she could just leave the box of books for Allison and be on her way back to town. She almost missed the turn off to the ranch. The sign with the words "Hall Road" was small and partially obscured by ice. She knew the Crazy H was huge, thousands of acres, so technically she was probably already on the ranch. She hit the brakes to make the turn, glad she'd been going slowly. 197


But what Ree hadn't accounted for was the wind. When she'd driven through sleet in the city, there hadn't been miles of open space around her, and she hadn't been at this altitude. All those thoughts and more flashed through her mind as a massively powerful gust slammed into the driver's side of her lightweight compact car, causing her to skid on the turn. Time seemed to slow as she fought with the wheel. She prayed to every god and spirit she could think of, calling on the ghosts she'd met for help as well. But even as she struggled, another part of her was almost apart, watching the disaster unfold. First the front passenger wheel slid over the embankment. Then the front left tire, leaving Ree facing forward as she looked down into the ten-foot ditch. There was a momentary pause as the back wheels held and teetered. Ree spared a thought to hope the airbag still worked in this old clunker. Finally the back tires broke free, and the little car hurtled forward into the ditch. There was a rending screech, a horrible crash. And then the world went black.

198


Chapter Eleven Fitz was glad he'd turned around when he had. This ice storm had blown up fast. The sleet was sheeting down now, and the wind was like icy daggers on his face. He knew he only had himself to blame for being out here, but he felt bad for his horse. That poor creature hadn't done anything to deserve this kind of abuse. He saw movement up ahead, thought at first it must be a stray cow. He couldn't imagine anything else that would be out in this. Any wild animals would have taken cover a while ago, and as far as he knew he was the only one working this section of the spread. As Fitz got closer, he began to make out the shape of a woman. His blood ran cold, colder than the ice crystals stinging his face. She wore a fringed white dress. Her hair was long, coal black, and worn in two fat braids. Her face was lovely, but worried. Her hand was moving, as if she was anxiously beckoning him forward. A stranger would think he'd met a local Native American dressed up for a powwow, but Fitz knew better. He'd heard this description his whole life. And he'd never believed in it. And even as he kicked his hapless horse into a canter, careless of the ice forming on the grass beneath its hooves, Fitz wondered why nobody had ever bothered to mention that his great-great grandmother's ghost tended to hover with her moccasin-clad feet a few inches above the ground. 199


She only appeared when a member of the family was in danger. That meant something had to be wrong with CJ or Allie, unless someone else had driven out while Fitz was out riding. His first thought was that CJ had an accident while working, his second was that something had gone wrong with Allie and the baby. Neither was acceptable, and he leaned forward to reduce drag so the poor horse could move faster. The apparition kept up the same speed, drifting above the earth about a hundred yards ahead of him, But they weren't headed toward the ranch house, or the barn, and Fitz knew CJ had planned to stick close to the house today. Maybe the ghost was looking out for Sam or one of the hands instead. It didn't matter. If Singing Bird Hall thought Fitz needed to be there, Fitz was damn sure going to go. Some things in life you just didn't question. His hat flew off, but he kept on moving, ignoring the stinging pain as the freezing rain pelted his unprotected face. Then another thought struck him, and he almost cried aloud in fear. Singing Bird had appeared to Allie before she'd even met CJ. As if the ghost had somehow known that she was the one. And as if to confirm his worst possible nightmare, he'd swear he heard a soft voice whisper on through the gale. "Ree." Fitz kicked his horse hard, riding and praying harder than he ever had in his life. ****

200


The first thing she noticed was the cold. Just her head was cold, mind you. The rest of her seemed to be wrapped up in a thick wooly blanket. "You awake there, girl?" The voice was comforting, warm and familiar. Ree wished she could get her eyes to open so she could see the face. "You're gonna be fine, don't you worry. Singing Bird's gone to get help." Singing Bird? Ree thought she knew the name, but she couldn't picture a face. Why did it hurt so much to think? And why couldn't she seem to move? Finally her eyelids fluttered open, and she looked at the man who was stroking her hair through the broken window of her car. "Jack?" Her voice sounded like it came from someone else, shaky and a million miles away. She remembered Jack. She also remembered that he was a ghost. "Am I dead?" "No, you're gonna be just fine," he repeated, patting her cheek. "Help will be here real soon. All you gotta do is hold on for a minute or two." She managed to turn her head enough to see that she was trapped in the crumpled front end of her car. The airbag had obviously deployed, she thought gratefully. It was deflated now, but still covered her chest and arms like a blanket. She wished it was one, so she could pull it up over her head. She started to shiver, slowly at first, but with rapidly increasing violence. "So-o-o cold," she muttered, as the lights started fading again. She felt something warm and soft settle around her ears and neck, and the shivering slowly stopped. 201


"You just hold on there, missy," Jack's warm, rough voice came from so far away, but it still made her smile as she drifted back into the darkness. "The Hall family ain't done with you yet." **** Fitz wasn't sure how much of the ice on his face was from the weather, and how much was from frozen tears. He couldn't lose Ree. Not now. Not when he'd just realized he loved her. As he approached the corner of Hall Road and the state highway, he began to figure out what must have happened. That damned little shoebox of hers wouldn't have had any traction, not in this wind. It would have blown off the road like a leaf in October. The only thing that gave him comfort, that kept him from howling, was the ghost. Surely she wouldn't have come for him if it were already too late. Since he could still see his ancestor, he was pretty sure that Ree was still alive. Hypothermia was an issue, on top of whatever injuries she'd suffered. His guide vanished as he approached the overly deep ditch. He'd be having another talk with the county drain commissioner on that one this week. "Thank you," he yelled into the wind, as he vaulted of his horse and peered over the edge. Sure enough, there was Ree's little yellow car, nose down and crumpled like a used napkin. One long red curl trailed out the broken driver's side window, and he fought the need to vomit. As he moved closer, he could see that the airbag had 202


deployed, then deflated. His cowboy boots slid on the icecovered grass as he made his way down the steep slope, but he managed to maintain his balance, at least on a physical level. Once he reached the car, he tore off his glove and laid one shaking hand on Ree's pale white throat. It was still warm. She still had a pulse. His knees almost crumpled then, but he knew she needed him to stay steady. He'd worked hundreds of accident scenes, and he knew the drill, knew the routine. The first thing he had to do was call for help. When he'd taken over as sheriff, he'd made sure that there were relay towers all around the county for their radios. Cell phone service might be iffy in this weather, but he never went anywhere without his radio. So he pulled it off his belt. "Dispatch, this is Sheriff Hall. I've got a single car accident at the corner of the state highway and Hall Road. Car's in the ditch, driver needs assistance, get an ambulance out here ASAP. Driver is a female, age twenty-nine. Unconscious but seems to be stable." "Roger that, sheriff. Help is on the way." "Thanks, Sandy." He spoke heavily, over the lump in his throat. "Then will you call the Crazy H, and ask my brother to come over with a horse trailer? I'm going to be riding in with the victim." "Oh, hell, Fitz, who is it?" His weekend dispatcher had been a friend of his parents, had known him all his life. "Rhiannon Jakobowski." 203


"Calling now. Keep your radio on, boss, keep me updated. And keep her warm." "Will do." He clipped the radio back to his belt and ran his hands over the car. There was no way the door was going to open. She was so tiny, though, he could get her out the window if he had to, but if she had any internal injuries, that might make them worse. Besides, he didn't want to lay her on the cold ground. The airbag and the car seat were probably what had been keeping her body temperature stable. Using his heavy, lined-leather work gloves, he knocked a few stray shards of glass out of the window, then examined as much of her as he could reach. No major wounds on her neck or face, thank God, just some scratches and bruising. One bruise on her left temple was a whopper, though. That's probably what had knocked her out. Then he noticed something odd. What looked like a blanket was folded up and around Ree's head and neck. That was why her temperature was still good. In this weather, you lost way too much heat through the head to stay alive for long. He tucked it back around, noticing it was a fringed Native American design. That nagged at his brain for a second, but he was too busy worrying about Ree to think about it. Her arms and legs looked like they were all in one piece, nothing sticking out or bent the wrong way. Breaking out the remains of the passenger side window, Fitz squirmed his way into the mangled front seat, taking one of her unresisting hands in his. Her fingers were cold, so he pulled his gloves off and slid them onto her hands. They were miles too big, but 204


they were still warm from his skin. She murmured and shifted, and he could have sworn he saw a trace of a smile flit across her face. "Your brother says five minutes," came the crackling voice over his radio. "Ambulance in twenty. How you holding up there, sheriff?" "Steady," he replied, feeling more hope than he'd had since he'd laid eyes on the ghost. He leaned his head back against the crumpled dashboard, not caring that the broken plastic was poking him in the ear. "Pulse and respiration are good. Body temp seems to be holding too. She was dressed for the weather, thank God." Except for her head and hands, he added mentally. They'd be having a talk about that when she woke. "Still unconscious?" "Yeah. Big bruise on her temple. I'm guessing concussion." That was the only thing that really worried him. How long had she been out? It took less than five minutes for CJ and Allie to arrive, in Allie's station wagon rather than CJ's truck. They didn't have the horse trailer. "Sam's bringing it," CJ replied when Fitz asked. He'd climbed out of the wreck to greet his brother. "I thought we could lay her in the back," Allie said. She was shivering against the cold, but ignored her husband's order to get back in the car. "I grabbed a bunch of blankets, and the wagon has a good heater."

205


"Good idea," Fitz agreed. Even with the blanket around her head, he'd noticed Ree had started shivering while he sat there and waited. "Think it's safe to move her?" CJ asked. He must have guessed the answer, since he was pulling two crow bars out of the back end of the car as he spoke. Fitz nodded, and took one of the tools. "The airbag should have prevented any major internal injuries," he replied cautiously. "Anything else comes second to keeping her warm." "Okay then. Allie, you stand on the passenger side and watch. Yell out if anything inside the car shifts or buckles, of if Ree moves. Got it?" "Got it!" She was already in motion. Fitz was getting fonder of his sister-in-law by the minute. The two men lined up the crow bars on the battered door. "Ready?" CJ asked. "Ready," Fitz confirmed. "Okay then. On one, two, three!" The gave it all they had and after a few seconds of strain, the screeching metal finally gave way. "She shifted a little, but not much" Allie called from the other side of the car. "We've got her," CJ replied as Fitz pulled out a knife and began to cut away the shoulder harness. "You go get the blankets ready." "Aye, aye, captain," Allie called already moving cautiously up the slope to her car. 206


"Remind me to send her some flowers, would you," Fitz said to CJ as they slowly shifted Ree's limp body out of the seat. He scanned her carefully, didn't see any other obvious injuries. Once she was free of the vehicle, Fitz lifted her easily into his arms and climbed the slope, CJ close behind in case he slipped. "Who, Ree?" CJ asked. "No," Fitz replied. "I meant Allie." He intended to be with Ree when she woke up. Any flowers for her he'd deliver by hand. "What for?" He laid Ree carefully on the pad of blankets Allie had made after folding down the back seat of the station wagon. Then Allie handed him another couple quilts to cover Ree with, before pulling off her own wool stocking cap and putting it on Ree's head. "That," Fitz answered, his voice all but choked by the lump in his throat. "You two get in the car," CJ told Allie and Fitz. "I'm going to go get Sampson before he decides to wander home." Fitz looked across the ditch, almost surprised to see his horse still standing where he'd left him. "I'll do it." It was his horse after all. CJ shook his head. "Get in the car. You're half frozen yourself. You won't do her any good if you get sick. And where the hell is your hat?" Fitz smiled, but was already opening the car door. Once a big brother, always a big brother, but this time CJ had a 207


point. He was freezing. "I lost my hat about a mile back, I think." "Well then the wind is really something else," CJ told him a few minutes later after he'd led poor Sampson down one side of the ditch and up the other. He'd tied the horse's reins to the bumper before climbing into the now-crowded car. He turned around and handed Fitz his Stetson, which was only a little the worse for wear. Wind? Fitz wondered, as they waited for the ambulance? Or something else? Because when he went to pick up the blanket after moving Ree, it hadn't been there. And he remembered that in the stories, his great-great-grandmother had always worn a fringed dress. And a shawl. **** The first thing Ree thought when she woke was that somebody needed to close the curtains. There was a really bright light that was stabbing her eyeballs right through her eyelids, and it was giving her a monster-sized headache. Her eyelids felt like lead, and she had no interest at all in opening them up at the moment. Maybe if she rolled over, she could pull a pillow over her head and go back to sleep. That plan didn't work. When she tried, she felt something, or someone, holding her firmly in place. She also discovered a viciously sharp pain in her wrist. "Hold still, Green Eyes."

208


Oh. Only Fitz ever called her that. She was so happy just to hear his voice, just to know he was here, to care about anything else, even the evil killer light. "Ow!" She tried to say it, anyway, but it sort of came out as a croak. She tried to pull her arm away from whatever was making it hurt, but that didn't work either. "Almost done, Ms. Jakobowski." Who ever it was with the criminally perky voice obviously didn't know Ree, because she'd said Jack instead of Jake for the first syllable. But Ree forgot about that as she felt Fitz's big warm hands press her shoulders down into the mattress. "Hold still, Ree. They're taking out your IV," Fitz told her. "Just another second here." An IV? That didn't sound good. She struggled against the heaviness of her eyelids and finally won, slowly pulling them open. Just as she did, she felt something go pop, and the pain in her wrist went away. As her aching eyes slowly adjusted to the light, she tried to take stock of her surroundings. Definitely a hospital. White walls, lots of arcane electronic devices, with wires and tubes running everywhere. A nurse in blue scrubs was rolling up one of those tubes, presumably the one that had just been removed from Ree's arm. Then she tucked it into a machine and stepped aside to throw away the needle. But more importantly than anything else, there was Fitz. She smiled as brightly as she could, and looked way, way up into his eyes. "Hi." "Hi, yourself." He smiled back, though his face looked drawn and strained. Had she done that to him? Bad Ree! 209


"I was looking for you." "There are easier ways to get a man's attention, Green Eyes." She let her eyelids flutter down again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare anybody." "Well you did a pretty good job of it." His short bark of laughter sounded a little shaky. All she could do was nod. But she opened her eyes again when she felt his hand on her shoulder. "Just don't do it again, okay?" She managed another shaky smile. "Deal." She tried to sit up so she could see him more easily. As soon as she started to move, her stomach lurched and she slumped back down. Then he was there, adjusting the automatic bed, rearranging pillows. In moments she was lounging comfortably. But he was still too far away. She reached out her hand, closing her eyes again at the sheer beauty of his touch when he took it. She tugged, pulling him closer and down, till he was sitting on the edge of the bed. A quick look around revealed that the nurse had slipped away at some point. "I wanted to apologize," she began. "Ree, honey, I'm so sorry," he said, at exactly the same moment. Then there was a moment of silence while they both smiled awkwardly, before Fitz nodded at her to continue. "I was an idiot to ask what I did. It was a stupid idea. Can we please just forget about it and be friends again?" "Friends?" he asked. His voice sounded a little surprised, a little unsteady. "That's all you want to be? Just friends?" 210


"Not really." Her mouth was dry. It was hard to talk, but she had to tell him the rest. Her head was pounding like a jackhammer, and all she really waned to do was go back to sleep, but clearing things up with Fitz was more important right now than anything else in the world, including pain. "I love you, Fitz. And I want you back in my life more than anything in the world. I'll be your friend, your girlfriend, whatever you want. I'll take whatever you're willing to give me." "You love me?" Again, he sounded a little bit shocked. She nodded miserably. Then both of his hands engulfed hers and squeezed them tight. "That's good." He leaned over and dropped a butterfly-soft kiss on first her lips, then her nose, then her forehead. "Because I love you too, Rhiannon Jakobowski. And I am going to be a part of your life, a big part, whether you like it or not." Before she could respond, there were footsteps in the hallway, and then a knock at the door. "That's the doctor," Fitz told her, glancing through the tiny window. He held up one finger, asking the person outside the door to wait for a second. "I imagine he wants to talk to you. Then I have to go outside and tell everybody in the waiting room that you're awake and okay." "Who's in the waiting room?" It's not like she'd been here long enough to get to know anybody, not really. "CJ and Allie, who have been with me since about five minutes after I found you," he told her, ticking the names off on his fingers. "Trip, Harper, and Jim. Lily." 211


"Wow!" "You're family," he told her simply. "Now I'm going to let the doc in before he blows a gasket, but before I do, there's just one thing I want you to remember. I love you. The rest is just details, and we'll work them out later, after we get you out of here and I take you home. You okay with that?" She nodded, her eyes going misty. Home. That had to be the second most beautiful word in the language. After love, of course. And family was awfully close, too. Nothing had ever sounded sweeter than hearing Fitz say he loved her. Sure, they had a lot to work on, but he was right. Those were just details. And they had the rest of their lives to work them out. **** By the time they finally let her go, Ree was ready to chew her way out of the hospital. They'd kept her overnight, for observation they said. Finally shortly after noon on Monday, they'd poked and prodded her enough to make Fitz tell them they were done and he was taking her home. She had suffered plenty of scrapes and bruises, a mild touch of hypothermia and the mother of all headaches. If this was what a mild concussion felt like, she sure hoped to never have a major one. They'd given her some kind of pain pills, but all she really wanted was a cup of willow bark tea. "Have I mentioned that I have a major phobia about doctors?" "Only about a thousand times," Fitz answered easily. He was driving her home in his truck, since her car had been totaled. The back seat of the crew cab was loaded with 212


flowers. Along with bouquets from each of Fitz's siblings, there were gifts from Lily, Shayna, and one that the deputies had taken up a collection for. There was even an arrangement from the Chamber of Commerce. Ostensibly absent, however, was one from Fitz. She didn't mind. Knowing he hadn't left her side, except for an hour to shower and change this morning, more than made up for any silly flowers. When they reached her apartment, Fitz swooped her into his arms and carried her up the stairs before she could protest. It felt so nice that she didn't complain. "You never did tell me how they found me," she told him later, after he'd made her a mug of willow bark tea and settled her in on the couch. "Did some other driver see me in the ditch and call it in?" He gave her a funny look. "Do you believe in ghosts, Ree?" She almost dropped her mug. Had she said something while she was drifting in and out of consciousness? She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want him to think she had brain damage, either. She framed her reply carefully. "I'm open to all the possibilities in the universe. I certainly believe that there are things out there that we can't fully comprehend." "Well you heard the story Allie told about our family ghost, right? Singing Bird? My great-great-whatever-grandmother, the Crow Native?" Ree nodded. She'd had Allison tell her the whole story that day in the shop. "My father always believed in the ghost," Fitz told her. "Said she once appeared and scared away a mountain lion. 213


But I always thought he'd just imagined her in the stress of the moment." He was shaking his head. "Till yesterday." "What happened?" He sat on the arm of the sofa and toyed absently with her hair while he talked. "She came and got me. While I was riding. I just looked up, and there she was, motioning for me to follow." Then he told her about finding a fringed shawl covering her head. "And when I went back to look for it, it was gone. But CJ found my hat, which I swear to God blew off my head at least a mile back. And I was riding into the wind." "Maybe we shouldn't worry too much about it and just say thanks," she told him, squeezing his hands. Someday she'd tell him about Jack staying with her while his wife went for help. But not today, not when he was still so wrung out. "I guess you're right," he answered. "At the very least I owe Allie an apology for doubting her story. It's funny, though. The legend was always that Singing Bird only appeared when members of her family were in danger. But she appeared to Allie before she and CJ had even met." Ree shrugged. "If we're going to believe in ghosts, why not precognition?" His lips twisted in that wry little grin she loved so much. "Why not?" "When the universe gives us gifts, we need to accept them, not ruin it with too many questions." She was talking to herself as much as to him. She'd almost lost the best gift she'd ever been given, all because she'd tried to out-think herself. 214


"So I guess that means you're officially family too," he began cryptically. "I can't think of a nicer compliment." His family was extraordinary; being a part of it would be a dream come true. "What if," he began, then paused, looking away, as if he needed to marshal his thoughts. "What if it was less of a compliment, and more of a premonition?" What was he saying? She just shook her head, then winced at the resulting surge in her headache. "This is not a good day to be cryptic," she told him. "Thinking hurts!" He was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry, honey. And I'm not trying to be cryptic, but I've never been good with words. What I'm trying to say is that I know you're opposed to the idea of marriage, and I know you have valid reasons for that. But I love you, and that's never going to change. One way or another, I want us to be together. I still want to marry you, and I'll probably keep pestering you to make it legal at least once a week for the rest of our lives. If you don't want a wedding then we won't, but would you think about moving in with me? I just bought a big house. There'd be plenty of room for those kids you talked about." Tears started rolling down Ree's cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't get the words out. Fitz's face took on a panicked expression. Unable to stand leaving him hanging till she got her voice under control, she climbed up on her knees so she could throw her arms around him and hug him tight.

215


"Do I dare hope that these are happy tears?" His voice was thick with emotion, and she gave a hiccupping sob, and nodded as hard as she could manage. "Thank God! Does this mean you'll live with me?" She nodded again. "Forever?" The poignant hope in his voice only made her cry harder, so she just kept nodding. "And you won't mind if I keep asking you to marry me?" This time she shook her head hard, not caring how much it hurt. Her face was buried in his stomach, soaking his shirt. He took her aching head gently in one hand and turned her face up to him, drawing her whole body up onto his lap with his other arm, so he could look into her eyes. Then he leaned down and kissed the tears away. "Can I start asking now?" She nodded furiously again. "Will you marry me, Ree? Will you be my wife, have my babies, and sit with me on the porch swing when we're both old and gray?" "Yes!" She forced the word out of her lips, not caring that it was a screech. Then she leaned up and kissed him with all the love and happiness that was all but bursting out of her. A few minutes later he pulled back and groaned, still holding her close against his chest. "Think your doctor would object if we got started on those babies today?" She chuckled and sniffed. "I don't know about him, but I'm going to object if we don't."

216


He kissed her again, tenderly this time, with a slow sweetness that almost made her cry again. "I don't want to hurt you." "I know. But as long as you weren't planning on me standing on my head, I think we can manage." He laughed. "I'm never going to have an ordinary moment with you, am I?" "Not if I can help it." He stood, lifting her in his arms as he did, and carried her into the bedroom. "Good!"

217


Epilogue "Well, there's another one taken care of," chortled Crazy Jack Hall, though only the other two ghosts could hear him. "Will you be quiet, I'm watching the wedding." Harry Broome wasn't too used to the others yet. "Sssh, both of you." Singing Bird stood in the back of the beautifully historic County Courthouse, flanked by her husband and Harry, who seemed to have developed the ability to leave the bookstore only this morning. Then she sighed. "May Day is such a lovely day for a wedding." The Chamber of Commerce was hosting the reception to follow, which was open to the entire town. It had been declared the official kick off of the Spring Festival, which would start in earnest the following day. Nobody knew about the three extra guests at the rear of the room. Except for the bride, of course. And she had just winked, and whispered the words 'thank you' to the beaming trio. "Bet you there will be some little ones hanging around the shop pretty soon," Harry mused. "That would be nice." "Hmm," Singing Bird replied with a little laugh. "Right about Christmas time. Twins. Both boys." Harry did some quick math and realized Christmas was less than eight months away, then whooped with glee. "How does she know this stuff?" Harry asked Jack, as they reached across her and shook hands. Jack shook his head. "Don't know, but she's never been wrong." 218


"Well, hell!" Harry gave a laugh. "I guess it is a damn fine day for a wedding!"

219


A Word About The Author... Cindy Spencer Pape has been, among other things, a banker, a teacher, and an elected politician, though she swears she got better. She currently works in environmental education, when she can fit it in around writing. She lives in Michigan with her husband, two teenage sons, a dog, a lizard, and various other small creatures, all of which are easier to clean up after than the three male humans. Visit Cindy at www.cindyspencerpape.com

If you are connected to the Internet, take a moment to rate this eBook by going back to your bookshelf at www.fictionwise.com.

220

Crazy for the Cowboy

Crazy for Cowboy

Crazy for Cowboy

Going Cowboy Crazy

Going Cowboy Crazy

Crazy for the Cat

Crazy for the Storm

Crazy for God

Crazy for Love

Crazy for Love

Crazy for You

Crazy for Love

Crazy For You(2)

Crazy for Love

Crazy

Crazy for Love

Crazy for You

Crazy For You

Crazy for Love

Crazy For You

Crazy for Love

Crazy for Love

Crazy for Kate

Crazy for You

Crazy For You

Crazy

Crazy

Crazy

A Cowboy for Christmas

The Crazy Things Girls Do for Love

Reckless for Cowboy

Crazy for the Cowboy

Crazy for Cowboy

Crazy for Cowboy

Going Cowboy Crazy

Going Cowboy Crazy

Crazy for the Cat

Crazy for the Storm

Crazy for God

Crazy for Love

Crazy for Love

Crazy for You

Crazy for Love

Crazy For You(2)

Crazy for Love

Crazy

Crazy for Love

Crazy for You

Crazy For You

Crazy for Love

Crazy For You

Crazy for Love

Crazy for Love

Crazy for Kate

Crazy for You

Crazy For You

Crazy

Crazy

Crazy

A Cowboy for Christmas

The Crazy Things Girls Do for Love

Reckless for Cowboy

Recommend Documents