EMMA KEPT HER GAZE ON the stairs and tried not to think about the new foreman a step behind her or how his sudden appearance left her shaken. Her initial shock was quickly replaced by a shiver of awareness so unexpected, her breath caught.

Mr. Grey Eyes is here.

His voice, while not the raspy whisper of her dream lover, was nonetheless a deep, throaty sound that made her stomach quiver. A southern accent, not Texas, but definitely the south made it quite pleasant to listen to.

An imposing figure, he stood at least six-four, with broad shoulders and thick, muscular thighs. His face was all sharp angles and planes, deeply tanned and covered with dense beard stubble. Stormy gray eyes she remembered so well were fringed with long lashes and rested beneath thick, dark brows. A jagged scar ran up his left cheekbone to the edge of an inky-black hairline. Full lips rested below a Roman nose with a slight crook to it.

He was the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life.

And her new foreman.

She would be working with him. Closely. Every day. She sighed and opened the door to her father’s room.

“Pa, this is Mr. Roundtree – Tyler. The new foreman Henry sent over.”

Ty shook hands with her father. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Marshall.”

“Likewise young man. Thank you for agreeing to – ” A fit of coughing left him gasping for air and ended whatever he planned to say next.

Emma sat on the edge of the bed waiting for the spell to pass, her stomach in knots, hands fisted in her lap. When it passed, she filled a glass with water from the pitcher on the bedside table and offered it to him, unable to hide the tremble that caused the glass to shake as he drank.

He took a few sips and shook his head. “No more,” he whispered as he lay back down.

She set the glass down and struggled to speak, but nothing got past the lump in her throat. He leaves me a little more every day. How much longer can he hold on? What ever will I do without him? She had to blink several times in an effort to stop the ocean of tears banked inside.

The gentle pressure of Tyler’s hand on her shoulder in silent support, startled her. Under different circumstances she would have shaken off such a display and berated the person foolish enough to think she needed it. But for some reason, his touch soothed her, its warmth thawed the icy blood running through her veins, and the trembles eased.

“Emma Rose?”

She started when he called her by her full name since he rarely called her anything but girl. Recovering quickly, she took his hand and squeezed, shocked at its lack of warmth. “I’m here, Papa. I’m here.”

He didn’t say anything more for several heartbeats which scared her more than she would admit.

He gave her a weak smile. “I ain’t gone yet.”

She swallowed twice before she spoke, glad her voice didn’t betray her concern. “I can see that.”

He gave her a small smile, his gaze moving to the hand resting on her shoulder. He stared at it hand a moment then closed his eyes again. “I’m right tired, Emma-Girl. Why don’t you show him around? I’ll see you at supper.”

She sat there until the steady rise and fall of his chest confirmed he slept.

“How bad is it?”

Tyler’s soft-spoken question broke through the fog of despair threatening to engulf her.

She adjusted the quilt around the sleeping man. “Bad enough.”

She didn’t realize Tyler’s hand still rested on her shoulder until she stood and it dropped away leaving her longing for its warmth again. “Let’s go down to the kitchen. I’m sure lunch is ready now. Afterwards, I’ll introduce you to the hands and we can take a tour of the ranch.”

“Sounds good.”

Her cottony mouth made speaking difficult, but limiting the conversation to inconsequential things made it easier. “Any questions come to mind as we go along, just ask.”

“I will.”

The afternoon passed quickly. The men, guarded at first, soon warmed to him after hearing Henry Owens recommended him, which pleased Emma a lot. Ole Pete had been the foreman here since before her mother died and filling his shoes would be difficult.

And though she would never admit it to anyone, she liked him immediately, which shocked her. He possessed an easy-going manner that made talking effortless and she caught herself several times before sharing too much.

The intense physical attraction was something else altogether.

Never had she experienced such a reaction before and was totally unprepared for the quickened pace of her heart or difficulty just getting enough air in her lungs. And the unfamiliar warmth coursing through her veins caused her anxiety to escalate. Uncharted territory for her, this required careful navigation.

Right now, the swarm of butterflies residing in her stomach threatened to take flight at any moment, adding to an already explosive anxiety level.

He doesn’t remember meeting you. He’s only here until we find someone permanent. Don’t go getting any ideas about him.

She had a sinking suspicion it was already too late for those warnings.