CHAPTER ELEVEN

TARA WAS BUSY every possible minute over the next week, which was the way she liked to be.

Between party preparations, she finished shifting boxes and other miscellaneous stacks in her search for current paperwork. It was amazing the spots she found things tucked out of sight, old mixed with new. Of course, the most intriguing items were the documents and ledgers from over a hundred years ago, including a Bible with a singed cover. Walt’s eyes had gleamed when she’d told him what she’d found so far.

“I wonder if my great-grandfather’s journal is around anyplace,” he’d mused. “My mother thought it was lost when the first house burned.”

Tara had winced, thinking of the history that might have gone up in flames, but she was eager to explore whatever had survived. Both she and Walt had discussed whether they’d find information about the sapphires and what to do if they did.

By Saturday everything was in good shape for the big event. Huge tents had been erected, and the largest barn would be used for dancing. In addition to the pasture prepped for parking, another had a softball field laid out in it. Horseshoes, croquet and volleyball were also available, along with portable bleachers for people who just wanted to watch the various athletics.

Lauren hadn’t wanted to go, but Tara convinced her to attend. They arrived before the official starting time, and her sister’s eyes widened as they wandered around. The serving tables in the food tent were weighed down with platters and bowls from the caterer and partygoers, the barn was strung with Japanese lanterns, and a country band was already playing.

Tara grinned at her sister’s wide-eyed surprise. “Pretty good, isn’t it, to get this together in such a short time?”

“No wonder you were busy.”

“To be honest, everyone was so enthusiastic about this event, there was practically a stampede of people getting involved.”

A tall cowboy immediately claimed Lauren for a dance, and Tara went looking for Walt, only to see Josh talking with a couple of women. She instantly turned the other direction and found Walt sitting with his daughter along the barn wall.

He struggled to his feet. “Here’s the gal who pulled this all together,” he announced.

“Nonsense,” Tara declared. “I simply did what you said. Everyone else was just waiting for the okay.”

Sarah McGregor pulled her into a huge hug, and Tara caught her breath; it was warm and sincere, and for a split second it was the way she’d always imagined a mother’s embrace might feel. It was a foolish, sentimental fancy, something she usually avoided.

“Thank you,” Sarah murmured. “You’ve been good for Dad.”

Unexpected emotion filled Tara’s throat, but before she could say anything, Sarah straightened and waved at her son approaching them.

“Josh, take Tara for a dance. She deserves it after all her hard work.”

“That’s what I came to do.”

Tara couldn’t tell whether he was sincere or if a hint of sarcasm tinged his voice.

Together they joined the crowd of couples.

“You don’t need to dance with me,” she said, trying not to remember how strong and hard his arms had been when they’d kissed. “I’m sure you have other women you want to ask.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I saw you chatting them up when I got here, two of them, anyhow.”

He frowned. “Chatting them up?”

“Did I get the idiom wrong? I’ve spent so long working with people who speak English as a second language, I sometimes get mixed up myself.”

“No, I just don’t appreciate sounding like a guy on the prowl.”

“Isn’t every single man on the prowl?” Tara asked lightly.

“Not necessarily.”

“Don’t tell me you live as a monk.”

His mouth tightened. “I haven’t done much socializing since I moved back to Schuyler—I’ve been too busy. But that won’t last. I enjoy dating as long we understand each other.”

“And by ‘understand each other,’ you mean they need to accept you aren’t looking for anything permanent, just a good time.”

“I’m not shallow. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to stay single.”

“I agree. I’m not interested in a relationship, either, though for different reasons. It doesn’t mean we’re shallow.”

Tara hoped that was true. At times she felt terribly limited because she avoided getting too involved with people. But that surely meant she was careful, not shallow.

* * *

JOSH TRIED TO QUELL the heat settling in the lower half of his anatomy. Tara was a delicious armful, and she danced remarkably well. In fact, as the music picked up, they whirled and did a number of fancy steps he rarely got a chance to try.

His eyes were fixed on hers, and they could have been doing the tango with all the steam they were generating.

Slowly he became aware that most of the dancers had left the floor and were just watching them. With only a few bars left of the song, he swung Tara around and they finished to the sound of applause.

“Nice footwork,” Walt declared as they returned to where he was seated. His eyes had that knowing look again, but Josh ignored it. Walt might suspect his grandson was attracted to Tara, but he was sorely mistaken if he thought anything would come of it.

“Thank you, Tara,” Josh said formally before turning to his mother. “How about a whirl around the barn floor?” Asking her to dance had been his original intention...along with wanting to hear what Tara might be saying to her and Walt.

“I’d love to.”

His mother had been the one who’d taught Josh to dance, so they made a good showing on the floor as well, though he realized that Tara was more striking in her vibrant aqua dress and long, blond hair. Something about her drew attention.

“Tara looks lovely tonight,” Sarah said as if reading his thoughts.

Josh shrugged, knowing his mother’s matchmaking tendencies.

“She must have gone shopping in Schuyler,” he said casually. “Candy McCoy is wearing the same dress.”

He’d been talking to Candy and her friend Marie when Tara had come into the barn. He wasn’t a fashion aficionado and wouldn’t have realized the dresses were similar if it hadn’t been for Candy’s reaction. Her eyes had flared with anger while she muttered to Marie that the store had promised no one else had bought that style.

While Tara might have gotten the dress after Candy, the shop would have been technically correct in any case. Tara’s gown was a rich aqua, while Candy’s was neon red and a size too small, possibly to draw attention to her generous bust.

“Candy certainly enjoys standing out in a crowd,” Sarah commented, and from her tone Josh realized his mother didn’t like the youngest McCoy sister any better than his sisters did. Ordinarily Mom liked everyone.

“She succeeded tonight,” Josh said lightly, hoping to give the impression that neither woman was important to him.

“I don’t think so. Haven’t you noticed that most people are watching Tara?”

“Probably because she’s new in town and they’re intrigued by the separated-twins story. Say, did you know Grandpa has been going riding lately?”

Sarah made a face. “He told me that’s what he planned to do.”

“Didn’t you try to stop him?”

She gazed at him with loving, exasperated eyes. “Of course I tried, all the while knowing it wouldn’t do a lick of good. Your grandfather has his faculties intact, and I’m not ready to treat him as if he’s in his dotage.”

“Okay, okay.” He twirled her across the floor, hoping to forestall further discussion about his grandfather or Tara.

* * *

LAUREN WAS ENJOYING herself more than she’d expected...as long as she wasn’t paying attention to Carl Stanfield as he danced with the local girls. Some of them were quite attractive, too.

She didn’t lack dance partners herself, but it was strange. She and Tara were identical twins, yet it felt to her as if Tara was the truly pretty one. Mostly it was because Tara carried herself with confidence and knew how to accessorize properly. Emily had the knack, too, though she rarely bothered with her appearance. Well...that wasn’t true any longer. After meeting Trent, Emily had adopted a sexier style.

Lauren scrunched her nose. She and Tara had bought their dresses at the same store in Schuyler, yet her sister managed to look as if she’d stepped out of a Paris fashion show. It was a puzzle how they could be so much alike and yet so different.

The band was playing a lively tune she didn’t recognize. According to Lauren’s dance partner, Grayson Welch, it had been written by a local musician over a hundred years ago. As the song ended, Grayson whirled her around in a flourish, right in front of Carl.

“May I claim the next one...as a friend?” Carl asked after Grayson had thanked her for the dance.

That was nice. He was making it clear that he wouldn’t press for anything else.

“Um, sure,” she said.

The band started playing another classic, “Make the World Go Away.” Of course. It was like teasing an addict with the drug they craved, in her case, with one of her favorite romantic songs, filled with yearning, regret and hope.

Carl’s strong arms swung her among the other dancers, making her tingle. She closed her eyes, losing herself in the music and sensations cascading through her body.

“Hey,” he whispered, guiding her toward the edge of the dance floor. “Are you light-headed? It’s warm—maybe we should go out for some fresh air.”

Lauren almost declined, but his protectiveness filled her with guilty pleasure. Besides, it was warm in the barn, and the area outside was beautiful.

They exited at the far end, away from the food tent and other activities, and walked toward a stand of trees. In the distance the crack of a bat hitting a softball sounded through the evening, followed by faint cheers, but on this side there were few people.

A cooling breeze ruffled the grass, and everything was bathed in the long rays of the sun.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “It’s lovely out here. The air tastes golden.”

Carl nodded. “This is my favorite time of day. At the risk of sounding poetic—which I’m not—it’s sort of magical.”

Lauren shot him a quick glance. It would be wonderful if he’d escorted her outside to sneak a kiss, but he was obviously too honorable. Her contradictory desires were frustrating. One minute she was glad he’d backed off, the next she was wishing he hadn’t.

A flash of irritation went through Lauren. Her ex-boyfriend had crashed through her reservations and fears with the subtlety of a bull in heat. Carl could have done the same, but no, he was a gentleman. If he’d persisted, she probably would have succumbed eventually.

Suddenly it struck her that wishing Carl had persisted was another form of the cowardice she despised.

She lifted her hand and touched his face, moving closer. His eyes darkened.

“Lauren?”

“Magic moments can be outside of time, can’t they?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

The next thing she knew, his lips were on hers. Seduced by the enchantment of the light and the moment, she kissed him back wholeheartedly.

When his arms loosened, Lauren pressed closer, not wanting the magic to end. Obligingly, he tightened his grip again, exploring the depths of her mouth with his tongue.

It was only when voices in the distance intruded that he drew back, took her hand and headed toward the barn as though nothing had happened. But he was breathing raggedly and through his fingers she could feel the rapid pace of his pulse.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Hey, we decided it was a moment out of time,” Lauren reminded him. She didn’t want to regret her impulsive behavior; it represented a brief conquest of courage over fear.

“You’re right,” Carl agreed. “But we’d better go inside now, or I’ll be in the doghouse with all the men who were waiting to ask you for a dance.”

She fixed a neutral smile on her face, and as they entered the barn again, Roger Dean arrived to invite her onto the floor. “Sorry, Sheriff, even a guy with a gun and a badge can’t monopolize one of the prettiest women around,” he said with a wink at Carl.

“My loss—I didn’t think to bring either with me,” Carl answered easily.

Roger was a good dancer, and Lauren loved the song the band was playing, but nothing tingled as he swung her in a circle.

* * *

BECAUSE WALT WASNT easily mobile, Tara divided her time between the dance floor and checking on the food tent and other areas.

“I feel guilty,” Sarah McGregor told her when they crossed paths again close to nine in the evening. There was still a glow in the sky, but the pastures being used for sports were already brightly lit with the lights Walt had rented. “I should be looking after everything instead of you being stuck with it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m happiest when I stay busy.”

Sarah laughed merrily. “You’re sweet. Truthfully, I’ve never had any responsibilities at the Nelson dance. My parents took care of everything while I was growing up, and when I was an adult it was pleasant to attend the party just as a guest. My mother encouraged it. Looking back, I wonder if she was protecting her position as hostess.”

“Or maybe she wanted to give you a chance to relax,” Tara suggested. “Walt told me you often entertain out at your ranch and that your husband has elevated barbecuing to an art form.”

“Yes, Dad has finally managed to recognize a few good qualities in Parker McGregor.” Sarah’s eyes twinkled. “It was at the annual Boxing N party that Parker and I fell in love. I was a senior in high school and only seventeen, because I’d skipped a year. We were married that July. Mom was concerned about my age, but she was happy for me and Dad didn’t seem to mind too much.”

Tara was tempted to ask Sarah about her parents’ marriage but worried it would be intrusive and might make her sad. Even now her expression shifted between pleasure and reflection, with hints of sorrow.

A man Tara remembered seeing at the hospital waved from across the tent, and Sarah waved back. “That’s Parker reminding me that I’ve got to go out to the softball field,” she explained. “I’m going to cuddle my grandbabies while their parents play ball.”

“Have a good time.” Tara snagged a cookie and started back to the barn. To her surprise, Josh stopped her on the way.

“Tara, I want to apologize.”

“For what?” she asked. They’d barely crossed paths over the past week. “You didn’t step on my toe while we were dancing and haven’t insulted me in days.”

His jaw tensed then relaxed. “I deserve that, but I’m talking about the way I reacted when I learned about the party. I was frustrated because something else was happening on the ranch and no one had consulted me about it. It wasn’t fair to put that on you.”

Josh was exhibiting something Tara admired—the ability to admit when he was wrong and apologize sincerely—but it made her uncomfortable. She was reluctant to see his better side, although she didn’t want to examine her reasons for that reluctance too closely.

She was, however, able to understand his frustration.

“That’s all right. It must be difficult in these circumstances.”

“Even so, I’d like to think I haven’t been acting completely in character since the, um...accident.”

His voice had become choked, and Tara sympathized. The loss of his grandmother had obviously been hard on the whole family, especially the way it had happened. Having to then face the situation on the ranch must have made it more of a struggle. Even she knew that life had to continue after a painful loss, however difficult it might be.

“Are you claiming you’ve never lost your temper before?” she asked with a teasing smile, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. She was good at idle chitchat and quick repartee; it was when things got emotional that she struggled.

“Of course not,” he replied in a similar tone. “I’m a veritable saint.”

“Doesn’t sainthood get boring?”

“Not at all. When I’m bored, I just polish my halo.”

“It’s nice to know you keep yourself occupied.”

“Uncle Josh,” a voice called. “Can I talk to you?”

“On my way,” he called back.

Tara slipped past him into the barn, only to run into Andrew Whitlan. The young ranch hand’s black eye had nearly disappeared, and he sported a red scar where Belle’s hoof had struck his forehead.

“Hi, Andrew. You’re looking better.”

“I’m doing great. Come with me a second, I want to introduce you to my girlfriend.”

Andrew steered her over to a young girl standing next to an older couple. “This is Ellie. Ellie, this is Tara.”

“Hi, Ellie,” Tara said. “Now I have a face to go with your voice.”

Ellie grinned. “Thanks for helping take care of Andrew. He says you helped lift him into the truck and everything. And you were so nice when you called to tell me about him being hurt.”

Tara smiled back. “I was happy to do whatever I could.”

“I saw you earlier, with Josh McGregor. Jeez, you’re a good dancer.”

After they chatted a few minutes, Tara circled the edge of the dance floor to find Walt. He was seated in the same place as before, leaning forward.

“I was wondering if you were going to ignore me for the rest of the evening,” he said gruffly.

“Only half of it,” she returned.

He sat back in his chair and sighed. “In days past, Evelyn and I got applause on the dance floor, too. Guess my dancing days are over.”

“Hey, don’t be so pessimistic,” she chided. “It’s a slow number right now. Why don’t we give it a shot?”

His face brightened, and he pushed himself to his feet. “Why not?”

As they joined the others in a waltz, Tara saw Josh come back inside and watch them. His expression was impossible to read.

* * *

CARL MADE SURE he partnered with a wide variety of women—young, old, in between, married and single. All the while he was mentally kicking himself for giving in to temptation.

He had deeper feelings for Lauren than he’d ever experienced in the past, but he couldn’t push her into something that would make them both miserable.

His father’s job had ultimately driven his parents apart, his mother unable to deal with the stress of being married to a cop. He understood, in a way. It had to be hard to know the person you loved could leave for work and never come home again.

Ironically, now that his father was retired, they’d remarried. Yet they would never get back the lost years. Nor was his mother thrilled that her son had chosen law enforcement as a career instead of medicine like his sister.

He still remembered his mother’s expression when she’d talked to him after his graduation from the police academy. Her words were practically burned into his brain.

You’ve made your decision, and I’m trying to respect it. But when you choose a wife, make sure she can accept your career. Your dad and I married right out of high school, and he decided during college to become a police officer. In a way, I never forgave him for it.

Curiously, when his father had been shot after the divorce, his mother had rushed to the hospital, staying at his bedside until the danger had passed. It had been surreal to see her skillfully manage the physicians and nurses, refusing to let them get away with vague answers or comforting platitudes. She’d dealt with it so well that he’d always wondered why she hadn’t been able to handle the marriage.

Whatever the explanation for his parents’ divorce, Carl knew all too well that it took a particular kind of personality to handle being a law enforcement wife.

Of course, it didn’t mean Lauren couldn’t work it out. She’d warned him off, but it was possible she would change her mind. He’d had more than one colleague whose girlfriend was initially resistant and then came to understand and be willing to accept the challenge.

On the other hand, he didn’t want to hurt Lauren and had told her they could just be friends. He’d fudged on the note sent with the pansies. It had been an unconscious duplicity that he regretted, so now it would be up to her to change the conditions of their relationship. Of course, she’d kissed him...mixed signals again, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.

* * *

JOSH WAS RESTLESS. The Boxing N community party had always been his favorite social occasion, but his feelings were still mixed about having the event less than a year after losing Grandma Evelyn.

He’d danced, eaten, played softball on a family team formed by his nephew, but memories of his grandmother still filled his head.

When he returned to the barn after the game, the sight of Tara and his grandfather instantly grabbed his attention. They were waltzing. Slowly, to be sure, but dancing. Why did she do things like that? She had to realize how much pain it caused Grandpa.

More than that, it was a reminder of how everything had changed. The dance floor was a place where Walt and Evelyn had seemed to connect, and it had always been a treat to see them out there. Now Grandma was gone and Walt was dragging his leg where only a year before, he’d danced the night away.

Going over to them, Josh tapped his grandfather’s shoulder. “May I cut in?”

A speculative gleam entered Walt’s eyes before he nodded and relinquished Tara.

“People are going to talk,” she said when Walt was seated again. “Doesn’t more than one dance with the same woman constitute a long-term commitment in your book?”

“Very amusing.”

“You didn’t need to rescue your grandfather,” Tara continued, showing she’d understood his motives for cutting in. “Walt is capable of making up his own mind.”

“He shouldn’t be dancing,” Josh gritted through his teeth.

“Right. He shouldn’t be dancing, he shouldn’t be riding and he shouldn’t be making any decisions. In other words, he shouldn’t be living.”

Josh was appalled. “I never thought that.”

“I didn’t mean you wanted him to stop breathing,” she returned. “In fact, you’re desperate to protect him from physical harm so he’ll keep breathing. But Walt is obviously the kind of man who needs a reason to live.”

“You barely know him. He has a family who loves him and needs him. He knows that.”

She turned her copper-flecked eyes up to him. “I’m talking about quality of life.”

“Do we have to go over this again? Walt’s life has always been about the ranch,” Josh murmured. “But he can’t run it alone or do a fraction of the work needed to keep the place afloat. He just won’t accept it.”

“Now we’re back to whether you run the ranch or not.”

“Everything is connected.”

“No doubt.”

The song ended, with Josh ensuring they were on the opposite side of the barn from where his grandfather was sitting.

They muttered polite, insincere platitudes, and Tara walked away, the soft fabric of her dress shifting and flowing around her figure.

Josh sighed, wondering if his nephew wanted to play another softball game. That was one option. The other was running to his house for a cold shower.