Carey awoke to the jangle of the alarm clock. She stretched, then groaned as muscles, well used the previous night, protested movement. The next thing she realized was her state of dress, or rather undress. She was stark naked. She jerked upright and stared at the other side of the bed.
J. D. Cade lay there.
He was watching her, his eyes wary even as a smile curved his mouth. “Waking up with someone is a shock after years of waking alone, isn’t it?”
“’Shock’ isn’t the word for it,” she stated, unable to believe she’d let a man spend the night with her…in her house…with her child right down the hall.
She was going to have to get up. She couldn’t cower there all day with the covers clutched to her bosom like a frightened virgin. Which she definitely wasn’t.
He made it easy for her by swinging out of bed. “Okay if I use your shower?” he asked, as if they’d done this every day for years.
“Yes,” she croaked, unable to keep from staring at his lean strength while he crossed the carpet and entered the bathroom. She heard the shower come on.
“You can join me,” he called.
There was a smile in his deep, rough voice, scarred from his ordeal in Vietnam. He carried other, less visible, scars after his experiences with life.
After another thirty seconds of indecision, she slipped from the bed and dashed into the bathroom. When she opened the shower door, his arms were there to welcome her.
He soaped her all over, his manner grave. She’d expected playful or at least sexual overtones. There was neither. His mood was introspective.
“Have you told the McCallums?” he asked.
“Not yet. I’m going to call them this morning.” She leaned her head back and let the water rinse the shampoo out of her hair.
He soaped, then rinsed, then turned off the water.
The sudden quiet disturbed her. Without the noise of the shower around them, there was no sound to drown out the thoughts that clamored in her head.
She stepped out, grabbed a towel and tossed another to him. “Last night—”
“I shouldn’t have stayed,” he interrupted, finishing the sentence. “I meant to leave, but I fell asleep.”
“I’ve never had…there’s Sophie to think of…and other things,” she finished lamely.
“Small-town gossip.”
She nodded. “Lily Mae Wheeler lives on the next block down from here. If she sees the ranch truck—”
Lily Mae wasn’t the only one who would notice. The baby-sitter lived three houses down the street. Annie drove by each day on her way to the hospital.
Carey sighed. She didn’t want to think about it.
He finished drying off. “We’ll sort it out.” He went to one of the twin sinks.
“How?”
“However we need to.”
It was hard to concentrate when he was flagrantly aroused. The towel wrapped around his waist couldn’t disguise the fact. She turned away, heat flooding her face, when he caught her staring.
“Okay if I use your razor?” he asked.
She nodded and hurried into the bedroom where she applied deodorant and powder, then slipped into slacks and a turtleneck. She was putting on a brocaded vest that had reminded her of a Mississippi gambler when she’d seen it at the consignment shop, when he came into the bedroom.
He was dressed by the time she blow-dried her hair and combed it into place. He followed her to the kitchen.
“Eggs and bacon?”
“Just coffee will be fine.”
She ignored the request and prepared a full breakfast. It was easier than thinking about them and what the future might hold. He sat at the table, seemingly deep in thought, while he watched her fix the meal.
“It’s still raining,” he remarked when she joined him.
“At least it isn’t snow or ice.”
It wasn’t until they finished that he spoke what was in his mind. “I have something to tell you.”
A chill attacked her heart. Her first thought was that he’d lied, that he was married and had a family somewhere.
“My name isn’t J. D. Cade.”
“What?” She stared at him blankly, his statement so far from what she’d imagined she couldn’t respond to it.
“I made it up when I came back here.”
She caught the nuance. “You’ve been here before?”
He nodded. “I used J because it was my father’s initial and D because it was my brother’s. Jeremiah and Dugin.”
The facts sank slowly into her mind like a pebble tossed into a pond. The ripples spread in ever-widening circles, touching off other connections.
“And ‘Cade’ was short for Kincaid,” she said, dazed by the information. “But there was no one left in the family—”
She stared at him as suspicion grew.
“I’m Wayne Kincaid. That’s why I wanted to be tested as a donor. I’m Jennifer McCallum’s brother.”
She shook her head, trying to take it all in, to make sense of it. “Wayne died in Vietnam.”
“No. I was captured, but I got away.”
“You never came back.”
“I couldn’t. There was nothing left here. I wanted to come back but there were too many obstacles. I hated my father. I wanted to escape the Kincaid name and all it stood for. It was easier to let everyone think I was dead.”
“You’ll have to tell now.” She studied him, this stranger who had been in her arms last night. “Won’t you?”
“Yes. Sam Brightwater has already guessed. I’m pretty sure Kate Walker has, too, after the hours we spent together during the cave-in. Her husband was my best friend once. I don’t think Kate has told him anything though. I can’t let Ethan find out from someone else. I was going to tell you last night.”
“Only, I attacked you when you showed up at the office,” she murmured in embarrassment.
“Hardly,” he said with a trace of amusement in his tone. His face hardened. “Don’t confuse what happened between us as a man and a woman with anything else.”
She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “How can I not? Everything in a person’s life impinges on everything else. In medicine, it’s known as treating the whole patient.” She sighed. “What a mess.”
Staring at the toast crumbs on her plate, she realized people were like that—scattered across the landscape of life, made of the same elements, yet each separate, divided from all others by the randomness of life.
“Don’t make a federal case of it,” he cautioned.
“I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t know how I feel.” She laughed without amusement. “But then, I didn’t know how I felt before your great confession, either.”
He came around the table. She stood, not sure whether to bolt or hold her ground. He clasped her upper arms.
“Yes, you do.” His eyes gleamed with the flames of passion. “Nothing has changed between us.”
He kissed her, causing her whirling thoughts to spin faster, throwing her world completely out of control. She clutched his waist as her legs trembled.
“Whatever was between us is still here,” he said in satisfaction when he lifted his head. He tapped the middle of her chest, then his own.
“J.D.,” she began, and stopped. “Wayne. The golden boy. The pride of the Kincaids. The best quarterback Whitehorn ever had.” She drew a shaky breath. “It isn’t the same.”
“That boy died in ‘Nam.”
The bitterness in his tone penetrated her daze. She had seen his scars. She knew some of what he had endured. “But the memories will always be in you.” She moved away from his embrace and stared out the window at the gloomy day. “Tell me,” she requested. “Tell me all of it.”
He helped himself to fresh coffee. “I went off to war when I was eighteen,” he began. He talked of capture and pain, of escape and more pain, of more years in the service, of wandering the world, all in a few brief sentences that told her more than if he’d spoken for hours. He finished and fell silent, his gaze pensive.
“Do you need to speak to anyone else before I call Jessica and Sterling?” she asked.
“Not this minute, but don’t tell them who I am.”
The shortness of the answer reminded her of the role he’d chosen for himself. Outsider. He wanted to stay that way, but that would be impossible.
“If you’d told us sooner, we could have saved a lot of time. We could have tested you when we tested Clint.” Anger replaced the pity she’d felt listening to his story.
“I’d hoped he would match.”
“So you wouldn’t have to confess who you were…who you are. You’d have left without saying a word.”
Bit by bit, it was dawning on her what a fool she’d been to trust this man. A loner. A drifter. She’d known that from the beginning. Now she also knew he’d been living a lie the whole time. She’d fallen for it just as she had with her ex-husband. Some people were slow to learn, it seemed.
“There was nothing to say. I don’t want the ranch or any part of the Kincaid name. I was happy being free of it.”
“Then why did you return?”
“I was near here on a construction job.” He shrugged. “I was curious. I came over to see what had happened to the town. I found out I had a brother and sister and that the ranch was having problems. There seemed to be a mystery to solve, so I hired on when I found out Harding was having trouble keeping hands.”
“The news of who you are will spread faster than gossip at a church social. You’ll be hounded by reporters when it breaks,” she warned him. “Your whole history will be endlessly relived and expounded upon. You died a hero. It’s harder to return as simply a human.”
“I’ll survive.” He resumed his seat. “When do you need me for the transplant?”
“Not for a while. We’ll have to isolate Jenny and destroy all her bone marrow before we can proceed. I’ll let you know.” She shifted gratefully into her medical role. “Stay out of crowds and away from anyone with a cold. I don’t want you coming down with anything.”
He nodded. “I’ll stick to the ranch. It’s pretty much isolated now that everyone thinks it has a curse. Only Lester Buell sniffs around, wanting to buy it for a song in his usual scruffy manner.”
Carey studied the scowl on his face. She tried to bring up the picture of the boy who had tripped over her, then had bought her another ice-cream cone, with the man who stood before her. She couldn’t.
He was right. That boy had left a long time ago and never returned. This hardened, embittered man had taken the golden boy’s place.
Although she’d never really known him, she mourned that boy and his shattered ideals, his beautiful body and its youthful perfection. Out of the twin fires of tragedy and pain this man had been born.
She went to the wall telephone and dialed the McCallums’ number. Sterling answered.
“I have news,” she said. She hesitated to call it good news. The transplant might not take. “We have a donor.”
There was the expected moment of stunned silence.
“Thank God,” Sterling said. “Who?”
“It’s…J. D. Cade.” She glanced across the room. “I think he wants to come by and talk to you.”
Wayne nodded agreement when she looked his way. There was distrust coupled with pity and anger in her eyes. He had a lot of confessing to do today, a lot of fences to mend. Carey might be one he couldn’t repair.
At any rate, he needed to reassure the deputy of his intentions toward the ranch. Then he had to talk to Kate and Ethan. And Clint Calloway. And Reed Austin. Then the sheriff and the ranch foreman. The list was growing longer…
“Okay, I’ll tell him.” She finished and hung up. “He wants you to come by before he goes to the office at eight.”
His eyes went to the clock on the stove. “Seven-thirty. I suppose I’d better run.”
She nodded, her gaze averted from his. She was raising barriers and No Trespassing signs like quills coming up on a porcupine. He could hardly blame her. He’d lived a lie and let her and the town believe that lie. Now he’d have to pay the consequences.
He put on his coat and headed for the door. “I guess I’m through running,” he said, and went out into the cold.
The lights were on in the ranch house when Wayne pulled up at the Walker place. He cut the engine and sat there in the pickup, reluctant to face the family. Inside, he saw a woman’s head outlined in the window.
Probably Kate trying to determine who was out there.
He climbed down and went to see them—the woman he’d once loved more than anyone and the man who’d been his best friend through most of his school years. He owed it to them to tell the truth before someone passed the news on to them. He’d told the McCallums that morning and Clint Calloway that afternoon. Time had definitely run out for him.
Kate had the door open when he stopped in front of it. “J.D.,” she said, her eyes puzzled. “This is a surprise.”
He nodded. “Hello, Kate. Ethan.”
Ethan held a hand out without getting up. A kid lay in his lap, sound asleep. Wayne shook hands and took the chair Kate indicated.
“It’s cold out tonight. Would you like a cup of hot cider to warm you?” she offered. “We were just going to have some ourselves.”
“That would be fine.” His smile felt tight. Hell, his skin felt tight over his whole body. He should have told Kate the truth when they were trapped—
“What brings you out this way?” Ethan asked with more than a tad of suspicion.
Wayne couldn’t blame him for that. He suspected Ethan was a little jealous of Kate. “I needed to talk to you.” He studied her when she returned to the room with two cups and a platter of cookies.
She was a beautiful woman. He was proud of how she’d turned out. A judge, by damn. That was something. And married to Ethan. Catching the light in his old friend’s eyes when she handed him the cup, Wayne knew the marriage was good for both Ethan and Kate.
He relaxed.
“I’m going to put the baby to bed and check on Darcy,” Kate murmured. “If you fellows will excuse me?”
“Sure,” Ethan said.
Wayne noted the confidence in Ethan’s touch as he lifted the sleeping baby to Kate’s shoulder. It brought a lump to his throat. Everyone seemed to have families to come home to, except him.
“Something about the ranch?” Ethan asked, jogging him back to the topic at hand.
“No. It’s about you and me and Kate, about who we are. And about who we were once upon a time when we were all young and we were friends.”
Ethan stiffened. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he stared into Wayne’s eyes. Wayne met his gaze levelly.
“My God,” Ethan said. “What are you saying?”
“I think you’ve figured it out.”
“Kate, you’d better come in here,” Ethan called.
“Just a sec.”
The minutes ticked by as the two sat in stunned silence. He saw Ethan’s hand tremble as he lifted his cup to his mouth. Kate returned to the living room, a concerned smile on her face.
“What is it?” she asked, alarm crossing her expression when she saw her husband staring at their guest.
“Tell her who you are,” Ethan ordered in a hoarse voice laced with growing anger.
Kate sat beside Ethan and took his hand before turning to study Wayne. She frowned and looked from one man to the other. “What’s going on?”
“Katie, my girl, you’ll grow into a fine woman one of these days,” Wayne said softly, the way he had years ago when he’d teased her.
She shook her head slightly as if to clear it. “There was someone who used to say that to me—” She clasped both hands over her mouth, then to her breast. “Wayne. Oh, my God. Wayne. I thought…when we were in the cave-in, but I couldn’t be sure…. No. It can’t be.”
Ethan put an arm around her and held her close.
Wayne thought of the hours he and Kate had spent trapped in an old mining shaft months ago. While waiting to be rescued, he’d thought of a thousand things to say to her. He hadn’t said any of them. Looking into her eyes, he knew she had suspected who he was at that time, but her rational mind couldn’t accept it then.
“It is, Katie,” Wayne confessed. “I’ve wanted to tell you, both of you, for a long time, but…” He shook his head, helpless to explain how he’d felt.
“But what?” she demanded. “But it was easier to let us think you were gone? To let us mourn for you all these years? My God, the grief we’ve been through. And the guilt. How could you leave us here wondering—”
“Hush, Kate,” Ethan murmured, pulling her against him protectively. “I want to hit him myself, but maybe there’s an explanation.” He glanced at Wayne. “There damn well better be an explanation.”
Wayne nodded.
“How did you live? I saw that grenade explode under you. I saw you blown to bits.”
“The kid took most of it. I got a load of shrapnel in the chest and neck, some in the legs, bloody, but nothing major hit, not my lungs or heart. Not even my face.”
“What happened to you after that? The platoon pulled out. You were left for dead.” Ethan kept staring at him as if he expected someone to declare this was all a joke, one in very bad taste.
“I was captured. I spent the next six months in a bamboo cage.”
Kate gasped. “How did you get away?” Her face was the color of wallpaper paste.
“The soldier in the cage with me nearly drove me crazy moaning day and night with his wounds. He was gut shot. I was lucky. I healed. My jaw was broken, though. It set crooked. Later, the surgeons rebroke it and set it again.”
Ethan rubbed his jaw as if experiencing the pain of having it broken twice.
Wayne took a breath and continued. “Anyway, I got an idea. I started moaning, too, but only at night, then I started screaming. I kept it up no matter what they did. Finally they moved the cage out to the end of the rice field. I got louder. They moved us into the jungle. I screamed all night. As soon as it was nearly light, I kicked out the side and took off.”
Kate pressed a hand over her mouth.
“The other guy was pretty bad. I carried him for a while. Then he started fighting me, thinking I was the enemy. He broke away, ran a few feet and stepped on a land mine. The blast finished him and did some damage to my legs, but I was lucky. I ran into an American platoon five days later. I guess I was pretty much of a mess. The medics fixed me up and had me evacuated. I spent a year in the hospital in Hawaii. They reset my jaw and patched my arm, then they rebuilt my kneecap—”
“Oh, Wayne,” Kate murmured. She reached across the coffee table and squeezed his arm.
He swallowed hard as a knot balled in his throat. “I’d been gone for over four years by then. I wasn’t able to write to you for two years. I figured you both would have forgotten me by then.”
“Never,” she said.
Ethan nodded agreement.
“It was my memories of you, Katie, of both of you…” He looked at Ethan, including him. “Of the three of us, of the good times we shared, of laughter and being young, that kept me going until I got back to American lines. I made a splint for my leg, then walked, sometimes crawled, heading south, always south, and thought about you two. That’s all I thought about…of being home…with you…the way we used to be.”
Ethan covered his face with a hand. Tears pooled, then fell from Kate’s eyes as she stared at him with horror and pity warring in her expression.
He stood, as emotions too strong to be denied washed over him. He had to get away….
Ethan and Kate rose, too. Then somehow they were in one another’s arms, and he knew it was all right. They were going to forgive him. He loved them. God, he loved them, these friends…ah, God….
They talked most of the night, catching up on one another’s lives, sharing the loneliness and the guilt.
“I’m glad you two found each other.” He gave them a stern frown. “Even if it was damn late. You’ve made a good home for those kids.” He punched Ethan in the ribs. “You a daddy. Never thought I’d see the day.”
His friend grinned in that reserved way he’d always had. “The woman just wouldn’t leave me alone. It got embarrassing—”
His breath huffed out as Kate gave him a none-too-gentle nudge with her elbow.
“It’s four o’clock,” she said in surprise. “How about some breakfast? I don’t think any of us will sleep now.” She led the way into the kitchen. “You nearly told me who you were when we were trapped in that cave-in, didn’t you?”
Wayne nodded. “I wanted to. Hell, I wanted to make love to you.” He glanced at Ethan. “But I could see you were head over heels in love with this guy. Can’t figure out why, though. He looks like a rough piece of rawhide left outdoors for the winter.”
The two men fell to sparring, then ended up pounding each other on the shoulder while Kate got out sausage and eggs. They ate and talked some more as the sun came up.
At last Wayne pulled on his hat and coat. “I’ve got things to do today. I’m the donor for the bone marrow transplant for Jenny McCallum. We matched up.”
“Damn!” Ethan exclaimed. “She’s your half sister. And Clint Calloway is your half brother.”
“Right.” He shook his head. “It seems odd to have family I never knew. Everything has changed so much.”
Kate touched his arm gently. “Carey Hall is a good woman,” she said softly.
He met her knowing gaze and felt a flush creep up his neck into his face. “Yeah, she is that.”
“You could stay here, build a new life. The ranch needs you—”
“No, Katie. That life is over. I’m not going to claim any part of it.”
“But you came back,” Ethan stated.
“Maybe it was a mistake.”
“No,” Kate disagreed firmly. “Don’t keep on running away. You belong here.”
Long after he drove off toward the ranch, her words echoed in his mind. He shook his head. He hadn’t belonged anywhere in twenty-five years.
Freeway greeted him with a joyous yelp when he parked and climbed out of the truck. He rubbed the mutt’s ears. A tugging at his pant leg drew his attention.
One of the pups had a hold on the denim and was waging a fierce battle with it. Another had a similar hold on Freeway’s tail. Freeway gave him a patient glance that seemed to say, Kids. What can you do with them these days?
Wayne chuckled past the lump that insisted on forming in his throat again. “Right, old man. A family takes a lot of care.” He set the pup aside and headed for his bunk and a few hours of sleep before he talked to the sheriff, then the others on the list.
The news went through the town as fast as telephones and the grapevine could carry it. Curse or no curse, a herd of reporters laid siege to the ranch during the next week, demanding interviews. Wayne told his life story so many times he began to think of recording it and just handing out a tape cassette when anyone came around.
He came down with a cold within three days. Carey called him two days after that.
“Can you stop by for blood work in the morning?” she asked, sounding very professional.
“I have a cold.”
“Oh. When did you come down with it?”
He told her.
“Okay, we’ll schedule you for next week. Drop by my office, say, at six on Monday. That’ll be after-hours so you won’t run into anyone with an infection.”
“Sure.”
After he hung up, he realized his heart was pounding. He missed her. One night with her, and he missed her.
Walking out of the ranch office, he tripped over one of the puppies that had gotten out of the barn. He picked it up and scratched its ears. The pup licked his face, in ecstasy at being petted.
“It’s time for you to leave home. There’s a kid you’ll fall in love with who needs a dog.”
The puppy yapped excitedly as if he knew exactly what had been said. Wayne smiled. Maybe this would help store up some good points with Carey.
Carey straightened medical books that didn’t need it and rearranged her desktop, which was already neat. She’d watered her plants. She flopped in the chair and found herself staring at the sofa. Images whirled in her head of heat and passion and entwined bodies. She groaned and pressed her face into her hands. Why, why, why had she behaved so foolishly? Worse, why did she want to do it all again?
A knock sounded at the side door. Every muscle in her body jumped. Her heart went into racing mode.
“Coming,” she called, and dashed down the hall. She unlocked the door and opened it.
J.D.—no, Wayne Kincaid—stood on the step. He seemed to loom over her, tall and lean, as wary as a stray dog, and so damn desirable she nearly threw herself at him.
Again.
“Come on in,” she said in her best professional voice. “I have some papers for you to fill out first.”
She fled back to the office, while her heart fluttered and did diving tricks and generally misbehaved.
He followed behind her, his expression unreadable.
“Here, these are release forms. You won’t be able to sit a horse for a few days after the procedure. It will make your hip somewhat sore.”
“Sore as hell,” he muttered.
She glanced at him, wondering if he was thinking of changing his mind.
“’Somewhat sore’ is doctor talk for ‘sore as hell,’” he clarified. “I learned that during my previous stay in the army hospital.” He grinned, looking surprisingly like a kid who was proud of figuring out some adult secret.
“Yes, sore as hell,” she echoed. “Since your right leg is the damaged one, I thought we’d take the marrow from your left hip.”
“So I can limp on both sides?” He glanced over the release, then signed it and handed it to her.
She looked at the name he’d used. Wayne Kincaid. “I hadn’t noticed any limp.”
“It’s only when I get tired. My right knee stiffens up sometimes.”
After nodding in understanding, she gestured toward the hall. “I’d like to get your medical history now and do the preliminary checkup.”
“Anything you say, Doc.” He was mockingly agreeable.
She weighed him, checked his height, took his blood pressure and did all the things her nurse usually did. She had him fill out the standard medical history.
Her eyes misted when she read of the year spent in Hawaii, most of it in the hospital. Six operations for surgical repair. She imagined bones broken and flesh mangled by a grenade and a land mine. The waste of it.
“There’s that heavy sigh,” he said. “How’s the kid doing? I heard you’ve put her in the hospital, that she’s in some kind of strange contraption and you won’t even let her mother in to see her.”
“Jennifer’s in a special isolation unit. It’s rather like a big plastic bubble, but she can see and talk to people. We’ve set up a television, and Jenny has a remote control in the bubble. Sophie comes to the hospital and plays with her nearly every day. They play with games and interactive stories on the TV, each of them from her side of the plastic wall.”
She realized she was rambling and stopped.
“So when do I report in?”
“In the next couple of days if possible. You’re running a slight fever. I’d like to put you in isolation, too, and administer a round of antibiotics, then run the blood tests again before we proceed.”
“All right. Two days from now. Where and what time?”
“Nine o’clock at the hospital.” She closed and locked his file in the cabinet. Grabbing her purse and cardigan, she looked around for her gloves.
“Here.” He lifted them off a shelf of medical books.
She stuffed them in her sweater pocket and walked with him down the hall, shutting off lights as they left.
Driving down the dark street, her breath as visible as a fog each time she exhaled, she longed for springtime and warmth and leisurely walks. Not that she ever had much time for leisure, but it was something to dream about.
Behind, Wayne followed in his truck, staying a careful distance behind her. She was not going to invite him in.
He didn’t wait to be asked, but remained with her while she beeped the horn and Sophie ran out and joined her, then pulled into her drive behind her.
“Hi,” Sophie yelled, jumping out. “Did Freeway—”
She got no further before the dog leaped out of the truck and ran straight for the girl. They hugged and kissed and laughed and barked.
“Nothing like being in love,” Wayne said. He hefted a box from inside the truck. “Freeway brought you a birthday present,” he said to the child.
Carey eyed the box suspiciously.
“What?” Sophie ran to Wayne. “It isn’t my birthday.”
“It isn’t?” Wayne acted surprised. “Well, he thought it might be close.”
“It is. It’s—” She looked at her mom.
“Only about five months away,” Carey supplied.
“Yeah, that’s close enough. Let’s go inside.”
Carey found herself trailing the cowboy, her daughter and the dog into the kitchen. He set the box on the floor and stood back.
Sophie pulled it open. “Ohh,” she cried. “Oh, he’s beautiful.” She lifted out a puppy that wriggled with joy at the attention. Sophie hugged it to her, while Freeway licked her face. “What kind is it?” she asked.
“Part sheepdog and part mutt,” he told her.
“Just like his father,” Carey muttered. “You could have asked first.”
Wayne gave her an amused glance, his eyes daring her to do something about the gift. As if she could with Sophie holding on to the pup for dear life.
“A kid needs a young pet,” he said. “Not two old stodgy cats you probably got when you were her age.”
“Hardly.”
They’d been strays she’d adopted in high school. She realized that had been a long time ago.
She tossed her purse on a chair, hung up her sweater and stuck her gloves in a drawer. Two other pairs were there—a fact that annoyed her. She’d looked all over the house for the blasted things last week.
After washing her hands, she began supper. Wayne—she still thought of him as J.D.—and Sophie and the two dogs played tug-of-war over in the corner, out of her way.
She prepared Swedish meatballs and served them over spinach noodles, along with steamed broccoli and fresh carrot curls. She was aware when their guest left the girl and dogs and leaned against the counter, his incredibly blue eyes on her, his hands tucked into his pockets.
Her blood went hot just thinking of his touch. He’d caressed her all over, had made the most wonderful love to her, and it had all been a lie.
“I had better be going. I brought some puppy chow over. Shall I bring it in?”
She frowned at him. “Sophie would run away from home if I tried to pry her away from the pup. As you well know. Yes, bring it in.”
He grinned at her tone and sauntered out, then returned in a swirl of cold air with the bag of dog food. “Freeway, it’s time we were heading out.”
Freeway thumped his tail and stayed put.
“I have dinner nearly ready,” Carey said irritably. “You may as well stay.”
“Since you put it so graciously, how can we refuse?”
She wanted to hit him with the stirring spoon. She set the table, told the other two to wash up and scolded herself for inviting him to dinner. It was just asking for trouble.
He and Sophie kept up a steady stream of chatter during the meal. He offered lots of advice on training the pup, then asked her what she was going to call it.
This took several minutes of serious thought. “I was going to name him Buzz, but I don’t know. That would leave Woody out.” She looked at Freeway. “I know. Highway.”
“Oh, honey, I don’t think—” Carey broke off when Wayne chuckled, then tried to hide it behind a cough. “Highway?” she started again. “It’s a bit unusual.”
“I like it,” Sophie declared.
Her chin set in that stubborn way that reminded Carey of the girl’s father. Carey knew when to give in gracefully. “Highway it is.”
“Good choice,” he said.
She glared at him. But soon his arrogant grin and the absurdity of the name softened her mouth.
“Watch it. You’re about to smile. Look, Sophie, your mom is smiling. She likes the name.”
Sophie grinned happily, her gaze on her new friend. Carey felt misgivings tug at her heart. Her daughter was half in love with the elusive cowboy. Sophie gave her trust so readily, just as she once had.
After ice cream and homemade cookies, she was ordered to sit at the table while the other two cleared the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Her worries increased as Sophie was drawn more and more to their guest.
She watched them put the box in the utility room and settle the puppy there to sleep with an old sock belonging to Sophie. Wayne laid out newspapers on the floor in case of accidents while the pup learned the ropes.
As soon as it was polite, she took her child from his presence and supervised the bath ritual, firmly rejecting the idea that Highway needed a bath, too. She took an extra long time with the bedtime story and a brief chat about the day’s happenings. When she turned off the light, closed the door and returned to the kitchen, she found him still there.
“Thank you for the dog. Sophie adores it. You were right about her needing a young pet.” She waited for him to leave, standing close to the door so she could show him out.
He rose, but didn’t retrieve his coat. Instead, he came to her. “Relax, Doc,” he told her. “This isn’t going to hurt a bit.”
She summoned the words to protest. They never got past her lips. He covered her mouth with his, taking the kiss deep and stirring her blood with memories of their other kisses. Those seemed almost a dream now.
“Invite me to stay.” He nuzzled down her neck.
“No.”
“For an hour.”
“No.”
“You might need help with the pup.” There was laughter in his tone.
“No.”
“Don’t you know any other word?”
“No.”
He sighed and lifted his head. “Stubborn.”
She agreed. “But there’s no need in continuing something that has no place to go.”
He was silent for a long minute. “You’re right. As soon as things are cleared up here, I’ll be heading out.”
Which was exactly what she’d thought he would do.
Long after he and Freeway were gone, she sat in front of the fire, not thinking, not feeling. At last she sighed and went to bed. She’d been in danger of falling in love, but she was okay now. She was over it.