Guy-DianaPalmer

byUnknown

Chapter1

Chapter1

It was a cool autumn day, and the feedlot was full. A good many of these steers were already

undercontract

to restaurants and fast-food establishments, but in these last weeks before they were shipped

north,the

cowboyswhoworkedfortheBallengerBrothersinJacobsville,Texas,werepushedtothelimit.

GuyFenton

hatedhisjobwhenthingswerethishectic.Healmosthateditenoughtogobacktoflying;butnot

quite.

Hepushedhishatbackfromhissweatydarkhairandcursedthecattle,thefeedlot,people
whoatebeef,andpeoplewhoboughtitineloquentsuccession.Hewasn'tahandsomeman,but

he

stillhadawaywithwomen.Hewasleanandlanky,thirtyyearsold,withgrayeyesandatragic

past

thatanoccasionaldatenumbedjustalittle.Lately,though,womenhadbeenrightoffhislistof
pastimes.Therehadbeentoomuchworkhereatthefeedlot,andhewasresponsibleformixing

the

variousgrainsandnutrientstoputjustenough,butnottoomuch,weightonthesebeefcattle.He

enjoyed

thejobfromtimetotime,butjustlatelyeverythingwasrubbinghimthewrongway.Achance

meeting

withanoldacquaintanceseveralmonthsagofromthedaysofhisengagementhadbroughtback

allthe

bad memories and set him on a weekend binge. That was followed by another, when the man

settlednearby

and came to visit him occasionally, not realizing the damage he was doing to Guy's peace of

mind.

“Fortwobits,”hesaidoutloud,“I'dchuckitallandbecomeabeachcomber!”
"KeepyourmindonthatconveyorbeltandthankGodyoudon'thavetoclimbdowninthereto
inoculatethosehorneddevils,"cameadrawlingvoicefrombehindhim.
HeglancedoverhisshoulderatJustinBallengerandgrinned."Youdon'tmeanthingscouldget
worsearoundhere?"
Justinstuckhishandsintohispocketsandchuckled."Itseemsthatway,fromtimetotime,when

we

getthismuchextrabusiness.Comeoverhere.Iwanttotalktoyou."
The big boss rarely came out to talk to the hands, so it was an occasion for curiosity. Guy

finishedthe

settingsontheconveyerbeltthatdeliveredfeedtothedozensofstallsbeforehejumpeddown

lithelyto

standbeforeoneofthetwoownersofthefeedlot
“WhatcanIdoforyou,boss?”heaskedpleasantly.
“YoucanstopgettingdrunkeveryweekendandtreeingThompson'splace,”herepliedsolemnly,

his

darkeyesglittering.
Guy'shighcheekboneswentalittleruddy.Heavertedhisgazetothemilling,mooingcattle."I

didn't

realizethegossipgotthisfar."
“You can't trim your toenails in Jacobsville without somebody knowing about it,” Justin

returned.

“You'vebeengoingdownhillforawhale,butjustlatelyyou'reonabadpath,son,”headded,his
deepvoicequietandconcerned.
“Ihatetoseeyougodownitanyfarther.”
Guydidn'tlookattheolderman.Hisjawtautened.“It'smyroad.Ihavetowalkit.”
“No,youdon't,”Justinsaidcurtly."It'sbeenthreeyearssinceyousignedonhere.Ineverasked
anyquestionsaboutyourpast,andI'mnotdoingitnow.ButIhatetoseeagoodmangoright

downthe

drain.Youhavetoletgoofthepast."
Guy'seyesmettheotherman'salmostonalevel.Bothweretall,butJustinwasolderandpretty
tough, too. He wasn't a man Guy would ever like to have to fight. “I can't let go,” he replied

shortly.

“Youdon'tunderstand.”
“No,Idon't,notinthewayyoumean,”Justinconceded,hisdarkeyesnarrowing."Butallthis
carousingandgrievingisn'tgoingtochangewhateverhappenedtoyou."
Guy drew in a short breath and stared at the flat horizon. He didn't speak, because if he let the

anger

out,Justinwouldfirehim.Hemighthatehisjob,buthecouldn'taffordtoloseit,either."Rob

Hartford

settledupinVictoriaandhecomesdowntoseeme.Hedoesittoooften,“hesaidfinally.”He

was

there—when
ithappened.Hedoesn'tknowit,buthebroughtallthememoriesback."
“Tellhim.Peoplecan'treadminds.”
Hesighed.HisgrayeyesmetJustin'sdarkones.“He'dtakeithard.”
"He'lltakeitharderifyouendupinjail.Theonegoodthingaboutitisthatyou'vegotsense
enoughnottodrivewhenyou'reinthatcondition."
“Theonlygoodthing,”Guysaidwearily.“Okay,boss,I'lldowhatIcan.”
Justinfollowedhisgaze.“Winter'scomingfast,”hemurmured."We'lljustgetthisbatchofsteers

out

beforewehavetobuymorefeed.It'llbeclose,atthat."
“Onlycrazypeoplegetintofeedingoutcattle,”Guypointedout,lighteningtheatmosphere.
Justinsmiledfaintly.“Sotheysay.”
Heshrugged.“I'lltrytostayawayfromThompson's.”
“Itdoesn'tmakeahellofalotofsensetodrinkupyoursalaryeveryweekend,”theolderman

said

flatly.“Regardlessofthereason.Butthatisn'twhatIcameoutheretotalktoyouabout.”
Guyfrowned.“Thenwhydidyou?”
"We've got a beef industry publicist coming tomorrow from Denver. She wants to visit a few

area

ranchesaswellasourfeedlothere,togetsomeideaofwhatsortofmethodswe'reusing."
“Why?”Guyaskedcurtly.
"Thelocalcattlemen'sassociation—ofwhichEvanTremaynewasjustelectedpresident—wants

to

helppunchuptheimageoftheindustrylocally.Theindustryasawholehashadsomebadpress

lately

overbacterialcontamination.There'sbeenevenmorebadpressaboutsomerenegadecattlemen

andtheir

practices.Wedon'tfollowtheirleadaroundhere,andwe'reanxioustogetthefactacrosstothe

beefeating

public.Evanalsohasanideaaboutcustomizingleanbeefforaspecializedmarketofbuyers."
“IthoughtEvanwastoobusywithhiswifetoworryaboutbusiness,”Guymurmureddryly.
“Oh, Anna's doing his paperwork for him,” he mused. "They're inseparable, business or not.

Anyway,

thispublicistisexpectedinthemorning.TheTremaynesareoutoftown,TedReganandhiswife

areata

conventioninUtah,andCalhounandIaregoingtobetiedupwith
abuyertomorrow.You'retheonlycowboywe'vegotwhoknowsasmuchabouttheindustryas

wedo,

especiallywherefeedlotsareconcerned.We'veelectedyoutobeherguide."
“Me?” Guy cursed under his breath and glared at the older man. "What about the Hart boys?

There

arefourofthemoverattheHartranch."
“Two,”Justincorrected."Cag'soffonhishoneymoon,andCorriganwentwithhiswife,Dorie,

tovisit

Simon and Tira in San Antonio. They've just had their first child.“ He chuckled. ”Anyway, I

wouldn't

wishthetwobachelorHartboysonher.Wedon'tknowifshecanmakebiscuits,butLeoandRey
maybetoodesperatetocare."
Guyonlynodded.TheHartboyswerealocallegendbecauseoftheirbiscuitmania.Pitynoneof

them

couldcook.
“Soyou'reelected.”
“IknowmoreaboutrodeothanIknowaboutranching,”Guypointedout.
“Yes,Iknow.”Hesearchedtheyoungerman'sclosedface."Iheardsomeonesayyouusedtofly
yourselftothecompetitions."
Guy'seyesglitteredandhestraightened.“Idon'ttalkaboutflying.Ever.”
“Yes,Iheardthat,too,”Justinsaid.Hethrewuphishands."Allright,clamupandfester.Ijust
wantedyoutoknowthatyou'llbeawayfromheretomorrow,sodelegatewhateverchoresyou

needto

beforeinthemorning."
“Okay.”Guysighed.“Iguessyoucouldn'tdoit,orCalhoun?”
Justinglancedoverhisshoulder."Sorry.ShelbyandIhavetogototheelementaryschoolinthe
morning.Ouroldestson'sinaThanksgivingplay.“Hegrinned.”He'sanearofcorn."
Guydidn'tsayaword.Buthiseyesdancedandhislowerlipdidatango.

“Goodthingyoukeptyourmouthshut,Fenton,”headdedwithawickedgrin."Ihearthey'reshy

a

turkey.Itwouldbeapitytovolunteeryouforthatinsteadoftheranchtour."
HewalkedoffandGuygaveintothechucklehe'dchokedback.Sometimeshedidn'tmindthis
jobatall.
Hewentbacktothebunkhouseafterwork,notingthatitwasemptyexceptforoneyoungcollege
studentfromBillings,whowas
sprawledonabunkreadingShakespearethroughsmallrimmedglasses.HelookedupwhenGuy
enteredthebuilding.
“Cook's off sick, so they're shuttling supper out from the main house,” the college student,

Richard,

remarked.“Justyouandmetonight.Theotherbachelorswentofftosomesortofpartyintown.”
“Luckystiffs,”Guymurmured.Hetookoffhishatandsprawledonhisownbunkwithaweary

sigh.

“Ihatecattle.”
Richard, who liked to be called “Slim” by the other cowhands, chuckled. He was much more

relaxed

whenheandGuyweretheonlytwomensharingthebunkhouse.Someoftheolderhands,many
uneducated,gavehimahardtimeintheeveningsabouthiscontinuingstudies.
“Theymaysmelllousy,buttheysuredopaymytuition,”Slimremarked.
“Howmanyyearsdoyouhavetogo?”Guyaskedcuriously.
The younger man shrugged. "Two, the normal way. But I have to work a semester and go to

schoola

semester,becauseit'stheonlywayIcanaffordtuition.Iguessit'lltakemefourmoreyearsto
graduate."
“Can'tyougetascholarship?”
Slimshookhishead."Mygradesaren'tquitegoodenoughforthebigones,andmyfolksmake

too

muchmoneyformetoqualifyforfinancialaid."
Guy's eyes narrowed. “There should be a way. Have you talked to the finance office at your

school?”

“Ithoughtaboutit,butoneoftheotherkidssaidImightaswellsavemytime.”
“What'syourfield?”
Slim grinned. “Medicine,” he said. “So I've got a long road ahead of me, even after I get my

B.S.”

Guydidn'tsmile.“I'vegotacoupleofideas.Letmethinkthemover.”
“You'vegotproblemsofyourown,Mr.Fenton,”Slimtoldhim."Noneedtoworryaboutmeas
well."
“WhatmakesyouthinkI'vegotproblems?”
Slimclosedtheliteraturebookhewasholding."Yougetdrunklikeclockworkeveryweekend.
Nobody drinks that much for recreation, especially not a guy who's as serious the rest of the

weekasyou

are.Younevershirkdutiesordelegatechores,andyou'realways
stonesoberonthejob.“Hesmiledsheepishly.”Iguessitwassomethingprettybad."
Guy'spalegrayeyeshadafaraway,hauntedlook.“Yes.Prettybad.”Herolledoverontohisback

and

pulledhishatoverhiseyes.“Iwishyououtrankedme,Slim.”
“Why?”
“Thenyou'dgetstuckwiththepublicisttomorrow,insteadofme.”
“IheardMr.Ballengertalkingabouther.Hesaysshe'spretty.”
“Hedidn'ttellmethat.”
“Maybehewassavingitforasurprise.”
Guylaughedhollowly."Somesurprise.She'llprobablyfaintwhenshegetsagoodwhiffofthe
feedlot."
“Well,youneverknow.”Pagesinthebookrustledasheturnedthem.“Man,IhateShakespeare.”
“Peasant,”Guymurmured.
“You'dhatehim,too,ifyouhadtodoacourseinmedievalliterature.”
“Ididtwo,thanks.MadestraightA's.”
Slimdidn'tspeakforalittlewhile.“Youwenttocollege?”
“Yup.”
“Getyourdegree?”
“Yup.”
“Well,whatin?”
“Inwhat,”Guycorrected.
“Okay,inwhat?”
“Youmightsay,inphysics,”hesaid,withoutmentioningthathisdegreewasinaeronautics,his

minor

inchemistry.
Slimwhistled.“Andyou'reworkingonacattleranch?”
''Seemedlikeagoodideaatthetime.Andit'ssurephysic-al,"headdedwithadeliberateplayon
words.
Laughtercamefromacrosstheroom."You'repullingmylegaboutthatphysicsdegree,aren't
you?"
Guysmiledfromunderhishat.“Probably.Getbacktowork,boy.Ineedsomerest.”
“Yes,sir.”
Guylayawakelongintothenight,thinkingaboutcollege.He'dbeenalotlikeSlim,youngand
enthusiastic and full of dreams. Aviation had been the love of his life until Anita came along.

Even

then, she was part of the dream, because she loved airplanes, too. She encouraged him, raved

overhis

designs,soothedhimwhenplansdidn'tworkout,proddedhimto
tryagain.Evenwhenthingsweredarkest,shewouldn'tlethimgiveuponthedream.Andwhenit

was

inhisgrasp,shenevercomplainedaboutthelonghourshewasawayfromher.Shewasalways

there,

waiting,likeadark-hairedangel.
He'dgivenhertheringjustbeforetheywentuptogether,thatlasttime.Hewasalwayssocareful,

so

thorough,abouttheplane.Butthatonce,hismindhadbeenonAnitainsteadoftheengine.The

tiny

malfunction,caughtintime,mighthavebeenrectified.Butitwasn't.Theplanewentdowninto

thetrees

andhung,precariously,inthelimbs.Theycouldhaveclimbeddown,onlybruised,butAnitahad
fallenheavilyagainstthepassengerdoorand,weakenedbythecrash,ithadcomeopen.Hesaw

herinhis

nightmares,falling,falling,fortyfeetstraightdowntotheforestfloor,withnothingtobreakthe

fall

excepthardground,hereyeswidewithhorrorasshecriedhisname—
Hesatstraightuponthebunk,sweating,barelyabletogethisbreathasthenightmarebrought

him

awake. Slim was sleeping peacefully. He wished he could. He put his head in his hands and

moaned

softly.Threeyearswas
longenoughtogrieve,Justinsaid.ButJustindidn'tknow.Nobodyknew,exceptGuy.
Hewashalf-asleepthenextmorningwhenhewentdowntothefeedlotincleanbluejeansanda

blueand-

whitecheckedflannelshirtunderhissheepskinjacket.HeworehisoldestStetson,abeigewreck

of

ahat,wide-brimmedandstainedfromyearsofwork.Hisbootsdidn'tlookmuchbetter.Hewas

almost

thirty-oneyearsoldandhefeltsixty.Hewonderedifitshowed.
VoicescamefromJustin'sofficewhenhewalkedintothewaitingroomatthefeedlot.Fay,J.D.
Langley'sprettylittlewife,smiledathimandmotionedhimonin.ShewastechnicallyCalhoun
Ballenger'ssecretary,buttodayshewascoveringbothjobsintheabsenceoftheothersecretary.
Guysmiledback,tippedhishat,andwalkedonin.Justinstoodup.Sodidtheprettylittlebrunette
withhim.Shehadthelargest,mostvulnerablebrowneyeshe'deverseeninahumanbeing.They
seemedtoseerightthroughtohisheart.
“ThisisCandaceMarshall,Guy,”Justinsaid."She'safreelancepublicistwhoworks
primarilyforthecattleindustry.Candy,thisisGuyFenton.Hemanagesthefeedlotforus."
Guy tipped his hat at her, but he didn't remove it. He didn't smile, either. Those eyes hurt him.

Anita

hadbrowneyeslikethat,softandwarmandloving.Hecouldseetheminhisnightmaresasshe

criedout

forhimtohelpher—
“I'mpleasedtomeetyou,Mr.Fenton,”Candysaidsolemnly,andheldoutahandtowardhim.
He shook it limply and without enthusiasm, immediately imprisoning both his hands in the

pocketsof

hisjeans.
“Guyisgoingtoshowyoutheranchesinthearea,beforehefamiliarizesyouwiththefeedlot

itself,”

Justincontinued.HeproducedtwotypedsheetsandhandedonetoGuyandonetoCandy."Ihad

Fay

typetheseforyou.There'samapontheback,incaseyoudon'trecognizewheretheranchesare
located.Thelocalranchescontractwithustocustom-feedtheiryearlingbullsandreplacement

heifers,"

he explained to Candy. "We do some out-of-state business, too, with consortiums like Mesa

Blanco,which

Fay'shusband,J.D.Langley,operates.Anydetailsyouneedaboutdailyroutine
andoperation,andcosts,Guycangiveyou.He'sbeenwithusforthreeyearsnow,andhe'svery

good

athisjob.He'sinchargeofthefeedingschedules,whicharescientificintheextreme."
CandystudiedGuywithnewinterest.“Scientific?”
“Heminoredinchemistry,”Justinadded.''Justwhatweneedheretoworkoutfeedconcentrates

and

nutritivecombinations,alltodowithweight-gainratios,thebottomlineofwhichisprofit."
She smiled softly at Justin, pushing back a long strand of dark hair that had escaped from the

Frenchtwist

athernape."Mydadwasacattleman,soIknowabitaboutthebusiness.Mymomrunsoneofthe

biggest

ranchesinMontana,infact."
“Doesshe,really?”Justinasked,impressed.
“SheandJ.D.LangleyandtheTremayneboysgangupontheothersatcattlemen'sconventions,”

she

continued.“They'reradicals.”
“Don't tell me,” Justin groaned. "No additives, no hormones, no antibiotics, no pesticides, no

herbicides,

nocattleprods—"
“YoudoknowJ.D.!”Candychuckled.
GuywastryingnottonoticeherresemblancetoAnita.Shewasveryprettywhenshesmiled.
“Everybody around here knows J.D.,” Justin said with an exaggerated sigh. He glanced at the

Rolexwatch

onhisleftwrist.“Well,I'vegotvisitingcattlemendue,soI'llletyoutwogetdowntobusiness.”
Candywasglancinghurriedlyatthelist.Shegrimaced."Mr.Ballenger,wecan'tpossiblyseeall

these

ranchesinoneday!"
"I know. We figure it will take a week or so. We've booked you into our best motel. The

cattlemen's

associationwillpickupthetab,includingmeals,sodon'tskimponfood."Hefrowned,noting

herextreme

thinnessandpallor.“Areyouallright?”
Shestraightenedandsmiledwithsomethinglikedeliberation.“I'mjustgettingoverabadcaseof

flu,”she

saidslowly.“It'shardtopickupagain.”
“Soitis.Earlyfortheflu.”
Shenodded.“Yes,itis,isn'tit?”
Justinhesitated,thenshrugged."Takeiteasy,justthesame.Guy,ifyoudon'tmind,checkinwith

Harry

everymorningandgivehimhisinstructions.Iknowthey'repretty
muchcut-and-driedforthenextweek,butdoitjustthesame."
“Surething,boss,”Guysaidlazily.“Well,MissMarshall,shallwego?”

“Of course.” She started slowly toward her compact rental car when she noticed that Guy was

goinginthe

oppositedirection.
“Mr....Fenton?”shecalled,havinghadtostopandrememberhisname.
Heturned,hishandsstilldeepinhispockets.“Thisway,”hesaid."We'llgoinoneoftheranch

trucks.

You'llnevergetthatthingdownBillGately'spasturewithoutabrokenaxle."
“Oh.”She stared atthe car andthen at the bigblack double-cab pickuptruck wit the Ballenger

logoinred

on the door. “I see what you mean.” She went toward the truck in that same, slow gait, a little

windedbythe

timeshereachedit.Shesteppedontherunningboard,displayingaslender,prettylonglegasher

skirtrode

up.Catchingholdofthehandholdjustabovethedoor,shepulledherselfupandintotheseatwith

agasp.

“You'reoutofcondition,”hemurmured.“Bronchitis?”
Shehesitatedjustasecondtoolongbeforeanswering.“Yes.Fromtheflu.”
“I'lltrytokeepyououtoffeeddustonthetour,”hesaid,closingthedoortightbehindher.
Shehadtositandcatchherbreathbeforeshecouldstruggleintotheseatbelt.Allthewhile,Guy

Fenton

sat holding the steering wheel in one gloved hand while he observed her pale complexion and

flushed

cheeks.Shelookedunwell.
“Igotoutofbedtoosoon,”shesaidfinally,pushingbackaloosestrandofdarkhair.“I'mfine.

Really.”

Sheforcedasmileandherbigbrowneyessoftenedasshelookedathim.
Healmostgroaned.Memorieshithisheartandmadehisbreathcatch.Heflickedthekeyinthe

ignition

andputthetruckingear.“Hangon,”hesaidtautly.“We'vehadalotofrainandtheroadsarea

mess.”

“Muddy,huh?”sheasked.
“Muddy.Somearewashedout.”
“Winterfloods,”shemused.
“ElNino,”heinformedher."It'splayedhavocwiththeWestCoast,theEastCoast,andallpoints

in

between.Idon'tthinkI'veseenthismuchraininTexasinmylifetime."
“Wereyoubornhere?”
“Imovedherethreeyearsago,”hesaidtersely.
“NotanativeTexan,then.”Shenodded.
Heglancedather.“Ididn'tsayIwasn'tborninTexas.JustthatIwasn'tborainJacobsville.”
“Sorry.”
Helookedbackattheroad,hisjawtaut.“Noneedtoapologize.”
Shewaspullinghardatair,asifshecouldn'tgetenoughinherlungs.Sheleanedherheadback

against

theseatandclosedhereyesforaminute.Hereyebrowsdrewtogether,asifshewereinpain.

Heputonthebrakesandslowedthetruck.Hereyesopened,startled.
“You'reill,”hesaidshortly.
“I'mnot,”sheprotested."Itoldyou,I'mstillweakfromtheflu.Icanhandlemyjob,Mr.Fenton.

Please

don't...don'tconcernyourself,"sheaddedstiffly.Sheturnedherheadandstaredoutthewindowat

thebleak

winterlandscape.
Hefrownedashepulledaheaddowntheroughtrackmatledtothemainroad.Shewasprickly

whenhe

referredtoherhealthandhe'd
havebetshewashidingsomething.Hewishedheknewwhatitwas.
ThefirstranchontheagendawasownedbyoldBillGately,ontheVictoriaroad.Itwasn'tthe

showplace

ofmostranchesaroundJacobsville,afactwhichGuypointedouttoherwhentheyarrived.
“Billhasn'tmovedwiththetimes,”hetoldher,hiseyesontheroadahead."Hegrewupinthe

'thirties.'

when ranching was still done the old-fashioned way. He doesn't like the idea of feeding cattle

anything

supplemental, but when we were able to prove to him the weight-gain ratios we could get, he

cavedin."He

glancedatherwithawrysmile."Notmathe'scompletelysold.Andhe'sgoingtohavetrouble

withyou,I'm

afraid."
Shechuckled."Womendon'tbelonginthecattleindustry,Igather,andhowcouldthecattlemen's
association be blind enough to let them do publicity—and why do we need publicity, anyway,

wheneverybody

lovessteak?"
“Prettygood,”hesaid."He'lltrotoutallthoseargumentsandafewmorebesides.He'sseventy-

fiveand

hecanruncirclesaroundsomeofourcowboys."Heglancedather.
"WehaveitongoodauthoritythatheknewTomMixpersonallyandonce,briefly,hadchargeof

grooming

Tony."
“I'mimpressed,”shesaid.
“YouknowwhoTomMixis?”
Shelaughed."Doesn'teverybody?Hewasasmuchashowmanasamoviestar.Ihaveseveralof

hissilent

films, and even a talkie.“ She shrugged. ”I don't care a lot for most modern films, with the

exceptionsof

anythingJohnWaynestarredin."
Henavigatedatrickyturnandchangedgearsastheywentdownwhatlookedlikeawetravine.

"Seewhat

Imeantaboutthisplace?"heaskedassheheldonfordearlifewhilethetruckmanfullyrighted

itselfatthe

bottomofthesheerdrop.

“Isuredo,”sheagreed,catchingherbreath.“WhatdoesMr.Gatelydrive?”
“He doesn't,” he informed her. "He goes where he has to go on horseback, and if he needs

supplies,he

has them brought in.“ He grinned. ”The grocer in town has a four-wheel drive, or I guess old

Billwould

starve."
“Ishouldthinkso!”
Heshiftedbackintohighgear.“Howdidyourmotherbecomearancher?”
“Mydadwasone,”shesaidsimply."Whenhedied,shekeptmeplacegoing.Itwasdifficultat

first.We

hadranchhandslikeyourMr.Gately,whowerestilllivinginthelastcentury.Butmymotherisa

lawunto

herself, and she gathers people in without even trying. People just love her, and they'll do

whateversheasks.

She'snotbossyorsharp,butshe'sstubbornwhenshewantsherownway."
“That's surprising,” he said. "Most women in positions of authority are more like overbearing

generalsthan

women."
“Haveyouknownalot?”shereturned.
Hepursedhislipsandthought.“I'veseenplentyinmovies.”
She shook her head. “Most of which are written by men,” she pointed out. "What you get in

cinemaand

evenintelevisionissomeman'sideaofawomanauthorityfigure.I'venoticedthatnotmanyof

themare

truetolife.Certainlytheyaren'tlikemymother.ShecanshootaWinchester,roundupcattle,and

builda

fence—butyoushouldseeherinaValentinogownanddiamonds."
“Igetthepoint.”
“It'sbeenalongroadforher,”shesaid.
"I'msorryDaddiedwhenhedid,becauseshe'sknownnothingbutworkandbusinessformostof
herlife.It'smadeherhard."Andascoldasice,shecouldhaveadded,butdidn't.
“Anybrothersorsisters?”
Sheshookherhead.“Justme.”Sheturnedherheadtowardhim.“Howaboutyou?”
"Ihaveabrother.He'smarriedandlivesinCalifornia.AndamarriedsisterupinWashington
State."
“You'venevermarried?”
Hisfacebecamehardasstone.Heshiftedthegearsagainastheyapproachedthericketyold
ranchhouse.“Never.There'sBill.”

Chapter2

BillGatelywaswhite-headedandwalkedwithalimp,buthewasslimandasspryasmost
menhalfhisage.HeshookhandspolitelywithCandyandliftedabushyeyebrowbutmadeno
commentwhenhewastoldwhatherjobwas.
“JustinBallengersaidthatyouwouldn'tmindlettinguslookoveryourplace,”Candysaid.She
smiled."Iunderstandthatyou'vemadesomeamazingprogresshereintheareaofoldforage
grasses."
Hisblueeyeslitupasifpluggedintoan
electricalsocket.“Why,soIhave,younglady,”hesaidenthusiastically.Hetookherbyonearm

andledher

aroundtothebackofthehouse,explainingthedifficultyofplantingandcultivatingsuchgrasses.

"It

wouldn'tbefeasibleonalargescalebecauseit'stooexpensive,butI'vehadgreatsuccesswithit

andI'm

finding ways to bring down the cost with the use of mixing common grasses with cultivated

ones.Thecalves

forageonthesegrasses,onarest-rotationgrazingsystem,untilthey'reyearlingsandthenIsend

themover

toJustinandCalhountohavethemfedoutformarket.“Hesmiledsheepishly.”I'veshownsome

pretty

impressiveweightgains,too.IshouldprobablylettheBallengersdomymarketingaswell,butI

liketodo

myownselling,keepmyhandin.Ionlyhaveaboutahundredheadatatime,anyway,andthat'sa

smalllot

forthebrotherstowanttobotherwith."
“Wheredoyouusuallysellyourstock?”sheaskedcuriously.
“To a hamburger chain,” he said, and named it. It was a local chain that had started on a

shoestringand

wasnowbranchingouttolargercities.
Her eyebrows lifted. “I'm really impressed,” she said. "Most hamburger joints were buying all

theirbeef

fromSouthAmericauntilthenewsaboutthedwindlingrainforestgotout.Afterthat,anumber

ofchain

restaurants lost customers because people were upset about South American ranchers cutting

downrain

foresttomakewayforpasturefortheirbeefcattle."
Hegrinned.“That'stheveryargumentIusedonthem!”hetoldherwithasweepinggesture."It

worked,

too.They'reevenstartingtoadvertisetheirhamburgersastheonesthatdon'tcomefromtherain

forest,

andiftheywantedto,theycouldadvertiseitas'organicallygrown,'becauseIdon'tuseanything

artificialin

theirdiets."

Shesighed."Oh,Mr.Gately,ifonlywecouldpackageandsellyou!Whatamarvelousapproach

tocattle

raising."
He blushed like a young girl. Later, he got Guy to one side and told him that he'd never met

anyoneas

capableasCandyatpublicizingthecattleindustry.
GuyrelatedthestorytohiscompanionastheywounddowntheroadtowardJacobsville.
The Gately ranch had taken up most of the afternoon, because Candy checked Bill's research

journalfor

his progress with several other strains of old grasses, like the old buffalo grass, which had

largelybeen

destroyed on the Western plains by farmers in the early days of settlement. It had been a

productive

session.
“You'reverythorough,”Guycommented.
Shewasreadinghernotesbutshelookedupathistone.''Didyouexpectsomeoneslipshodtodo

such

importantwork?''sheasked.
Heheldupalean,stronghand.“Iwasn'tthrowingoutachallenge,”hetoldher."Ionlymeantthat
youseemprettygoodatwhatyoudo."
Sheleanedbackagainsttheseatwithalittlesigh.“Itakeprideinmywork,”sheconfessed."And

it

hasn'tbeenaneasyjobfromthebeginning.ThereareplentyofcattlemenlikeMr.Gately,only

less

easilyconvinced,whoenjoymakingmeasuncomfortableaspossible."
“How?”
“Oh, they make sure I'm escorted past the breeding pastures when the bulls are at work,” she

mused,

tongue-in-cheek,"andintothe
barn when the cows are being artificially inseminated. I once had a rancher discuss his cattle

weight-gain

ratiosinfrontofastablewhereamarewasbeingbred.Hehadtoshouttomakehimselfheard."
He whistled. "I'm surprised. I thought most men in this business had a little respect for the

opposite

sex."
“Theydo,aslongasshe'sinakitchenmakingbiscuits.”
“Don'tsaybiscuitsaroundtheHartboys,whateveryoudo!”heexclaimed."ReyandLeoarestill
single,andIcouldtellyousomeincredibletalesaboutthelengthsthey'vegonetoforabiscuit

feastsince

CorriganandSimonandCaggotmarriedandmovedoutofthemainhouse!"
Shechuckled.“I'veheardthoseallthewaybackatourmainofficeinDenver,”sheconfided."At

any

cattleconvention,somebody'sgotastorytotellabouttheHartboys.Theygetmoreoutrageous

bythe

day."

“Andmoreexaggerated.”
"Youmeanitwasn'treallytruethatLeocarriedacookbodilyoutoftheJacobsville
cafeonemorningandwouldn'tlethergountilshemadethemapanofbiscuits?"
“Well,thatonewas...”
"AndthatReydidn'thireoneofthecooksinHoustontomakehimfourwholetraysofuncooked
biscuits,whichhehiredarefrigeratedtrucktotakedowntotheranchforthem?"
“Well,yes,hedid...”
"AndthatwhenMrs.BarkleyretiredfromtheJonesHouserestaurantinVictoria,ReyandLeo

sent

herredrosesandtruckloadsofexpensivechocolatesfortwoweeksuntilsheagreedtogiveup
retirementandgoworkforthemlastmonth?"
“She'sallergictoroses,asithappens,”hemurmureddryly,"andshewasgainingalotofweight

on

thosechocolates."
“She's probably allergic to those Hart boys by now, poor soul,” she said with a tiny laugh.

"Honestly,

I'veneverbeenaroundanysuchpeople!"
“YoumusthavecharactersbackhomeinMontana.”
Shedustedoffherskirt."Surewedo,butonlylikeoldBenwhousedtohangoutwith
KidCurryandButchCassidy,andservedtimeforbeingatrainrobber,"shereplied.Hegrinned

ather.

“Beatsstealingacook.”"Idon'tknow.IunderstandoneoftheHartboyskeepsagiantsnake.His

poor

wife!"
''Hehadanalbinopython,butwhenhemarriedTess,hegaveittoabreeder.HevisitsHerman
occasionally,buthewouldn'taskTesstolivewithit.“”That'snice."
“Cagisalotofthings.Niceisn'toneofthem.”Hethoughtforaminute."Well,maybehiswife
likeshim."
“Nowonderhisbestfriendwasareptile.”“You'resoundingalittlewinded,”heremarked."That
wheatstrawinthecorralwasn'ttoomuchforyou,wasit?Thewindwasblowingprettyhard."
Shestaredathimblankly."AmIsupposedtonoticeaconnectionbetweenthatandmybeing
breathless?"
Heliftedashoulder.“Whydon'tyouuseyourmedicine?”Shestilled.“Whatmedicine?”"Surely
youknowyou'reasthmatic?"Shekeptrightonstaringathim,hereyes
turbulent,althoughhecouldn'tseethem.“Idon't—haveasthma,”shesaidafteraminute.
"No? You could have fooled me. You can't walk ten steps without resting. At your age, that's

pretty

unusual."
Her jaw clenched and her pretty hands had a stranglehold on her purse as she stared out the

window.

“Nocomment?”hepersisted.
“Nothingtosay,”shereturned.
He would have pursued it, but they were already going down the main street in Jacobsville,

barelya

blockfromherhotel.

“Myrentalcar,”shebegan.
“I'llpickupSlim.Hecandriveitoverhereandridebackwithme.Gotthekeys?”
Shehandedthemtohimwarily."I'mperfectlycapableofdriving.There'snothingwrongwith
me!"
“I'ddoitforanyone,”hesaid,actingpuzzled."You'vehadalongday.Ithoughtyoumightbe
tired."
“Oh.”Sheflushedalittleastheyreachedthehotelandhepulledupinfrontofit."Isee.Well,
thankyou,then."
Heparkedthetruck,gotout,andwent
aroundtohelpherdownfromthehighcab.Sheseemedtoresentthat,too.
He frowned down at her. “What put that chip on your shoulder?” he asked. "You're overly

sensitive

aboutanysortofhelp."
“Icangetoutofatruckbymyself,”shesaidshortly.
He shrugged. “I do it for a great-uncle of mine,” he informed her. "He's not old, but he has

arthritis

andappreciatesahelpinghand."
Sheflushed.“Youmakemesoundlikeamilitantfeminist!”
Hispleasanttonehadbeendeceptive.Theeyesthatmetherswereice-coldandcompletely
unfriendly. “You're about mat unappealing, yes,” he said bluntly. "I like a woman who can

command

respectwithoutactinglikeashrewortalkingdowntomen.Youdon'tlikedoorsopenedforyou

or

concernforyourhealth.Fine.IcanassureyouthatIwon'tforgetagain.“Hisjawclenched.”My

Anita

wasworthtenofyou,“headdedroughly.”Shewasspiritedandindependent,butsheneverhadto
proveshewasamaninadress."
“Whydidn'tyoumarryher,then?”
“Shedied,”hesaid,hiseyesterribleto
lookinto.Hetookaslowbreathandturnedaway,wearyofthewholething.“Shedied,”hesaid

again,

almosttohimself,ashewentbacktowardthetruck.
“Mr.Fenton...”shecalledhesitantly,awarethatshe'dhitanerveandfeltvaguelyashamedof
herself.
Heturnedandglaredatheroverthehoodofthetruck."I'llphonethemanagerofthehotelinthe
morning and have him tell you where to meet me for the next stop on the tour. You can drive

yourself

fromnowon,Ms.Macho."
Hegotintothetruck,slammedthedoor,andtookoffinacloudofdust.
Shestaredafterhimwithconflictingemotions.Itwasimportanttostandonherowntwofeet,not

tobe

babiedorpitied.She'dgoneoverboardhere,though,andshewassorry.Hewasgrievingforhis

lost

love.Hemusthavecaredverymuch.ShewonderedhowthemysteriousAnitahaddied,andwhy

Mr.

Fentonlookedsotormentedwhenhespokeofher.
Shewentintothehotelwithslowsteps,feelingeverystepshetook,hatingherweaknessandher
inabilitytodoanythingtocorrectit.
Shereachedthedeskandsmiledforciblyassheaskedforherkey.
The clerk, a personable young woman, handed it to her with an indifferent smile and turned

away,

pointedlydisinterestedinthebreathless,bedraggledguestbeforeher.
Candy laughed to herself. It was such a contrast from Guy Fenton's quiet concern. She hated

having

beensohatefultohim,whenhewasonlybeingcompassionate.Itwasjustthat,overtheyears,

she'dhad

somuchpityandluridcuriosity,andsolittlelove.
Whenshegottoherroom,shelockedthedoorandfellontothebedinacollapsedheap,without

even

takinghershoesoff.Aminutelater,shewassoundasleep.
Theshotswokeher.Shesatupinbed,herhearthammeringatherthroat.Shehadahandover

her

chestandshewasshaking.Moreshots,more...
Shewasoutintheopen.Therewerenotrees.Therewasnothingtohidebehind.Shefeltablow

in

her chest and touched it with her hand. It came away red, wet with fresh blood. The pain came

behindit,

wrenchingpain.Shecouldn'tbreathe...
Shethrewherselfdownontothegroundandheldherhandsoverherhead.Shesawblood.She

saw

blood everywhere! People were screaming. Children were screaming. A man in a clown suit

wentdown

with a horrible piercing scream. Beside her, she saw her father double over and fall, his eyes

closed,

closed,closedforever...
Shewasn'tawarethatshewassobbingoutlouduntiltheangryshrillalarmonthebedsidetable

began

topermeatehersleep-druggedsenses.Hereyesopened.Shewaslyingonthecoldfloor,onthe

carpet,

doubleduplikeafrightenedchild.Shesuckedinwind,tryingdesperatelytogetenoughairin

her

lungstobreathe.Shedraggedherselfintoasittingpositionandfeltfortheclockuntilshefound

the

switch that cut off the loud alarm. She was wet with sweat, shivering, terrified. All those years

ago,she

thought, and the nightmares continued. She shivered once more, convulsively, and dragged

herself

backontothebed,toliewithopeneyesandathrobbingchest.
The nightmare was an old companion, one she'd managed for a long time. There were,

fortunately,

notsomanymaniacsrunning
loose that her injury was a common one. But it did appeal to a certain type of person, who

wantedher

to recount that horror, to relive it. She couldn't bear the least reference to her breathlessness,

becauseof

badmemoriesaboutthemedia,houndingherandtheothersurvivorsjustafterthetragedythat

had

takensomanyinnocentlivesthatbright,sunnyspringdaytenyearsago.
Sheputherfaceinherhandsandwishedshecouldsqueezeherheadhardenoughtoforcethe
memoryoutofitforever.Hermotherhadwithdrawnintoacold,self-containedshelljustafter

her

husband'sfuneral.Forcedtoassumecontrolofthefamilyranchorgiveitup,shebecamea
businesswoman.Shehatedcattle,butshelovedthemoneytheyearnedforher.Candywasan
afterthought,areminderofherterribleloss.She'dlovedherhusbandmorethananythingonthe

faceofthe

earth.SomehowsheblamedCandyforit.Thedistancebetweenmotheranddaughterhadbecome

agapas

wideasanocean,andthereseemednowaytobridgeit.Candy'sjobwasalifesaver,becauseit

gother

outofMontana,awayfromthemotherwhobarelytoleratedher.
Mostlyshelikedherjobasacattleindustrypublicist.Unlikehermother,shedidlovecattle,and
everythingconnectedwiththem.She'dhaveenjoyedlivingontheranch,butIdahatedthevery

sightofher

and made no attempt to conceal it. It was better for both of them that Candy never went home

these

days.
She pushed back her damp hair and tried to think about the next day's adventure. They were

goingto

seearanchernamedCyParks,fromallaccountsthemostunfriendlyrancherinJacobsville,a

manwith

notact,notoleranceforstrangers,andmoremoneythanheknewwhattodowith.Shewasused

to

difficultmen,sothiswouldbejustanothercheckonherclipboard.Butshewasgenuinelysorry

thatshe'd

beensounfriendlytoGuyFenton,whowasonlyconcernedforher.Sheshouldtellhimabout

herpast

andthenperhapstheycouldgofromthere.Hewasn'tabadman.Hehadasenseofhumoranda

good

brain. She wondered why he wasn't using it. He didn't seem the sort to tie himself for life to

managing

afeedlot.Surelyhecouldhavestruckoutonhisown,startedhisownbusiness.
Shelaidherheadbackonthedamppillow
with a grimace. Only a few more hours to daylight. She had sleeping pills, but she never took

them.She

hatedtheverythoughtofanysortofaddiction.Shedidn'tsmokeordrink,andshe'dneverbeen

inlove.

Thatrequiredtoomuchtrust.
Aglanceatthebedsideclockassuredherthatshehadfourhourslefttostareatthelightpatterns

on

theceilingortrytosleep.Sheclosedhereyeswithasigh.
Guy Fenton, true to his word, called the motel and left a message for Candy, giving her

directionsto

the Parks ranch and assuring her that he'd be there when she arrived. She was dreading the

meeting,

after the way she'd acted. He probably thought the worst of her after yesterday. She hoped she

could

undothedamage.
She drove up to the sprawling wood ranch house. The surroundings were well-kept, the white

fences

were painted, the corrals looked neat and clean, there was a huge barn out back with a fenced

pastureon

either side of it, and the paved driveway had obviously been landscaped, because there were

flowering

plants
andshrubsandtreeseverywhere.EitherMr.Parkshadinheritedthisplaceorhelovedflowers.

She

wonderedwhich.
HecameoutontotheporchwithGuytomeether,unsmilingandintimidating.Shesawatonce

that

noneofherformerexperienceswithdifficultmenhadpreparedhertodealwiththistiger.
“CyParks,CandaceMarshall,”Guyintroducedthemcurtly."Ms.Marshallisinterviewinglocal
ranchers for a publicity spread in a national magazine to promote new ideas in beef

management."

“Greatidea,”Cysaid,butthesmilehegaveherwasn'tpleasant."Theanimalrightsactivistswill

use

theplatformforprotestsandtheantimeatlobbywilldemandequalspaceforarebuttal."
Candy's eyebrows lifted at the frontal attack. “We're trying to promote new methods,” she

replied.

“Notstartafoodwar.”
“It'salreadystarted,ordon'tyouwatchdaytimetelevision?”Cydrawledcoldly.
Sheletoutaslowbreath.“Weill,”shedrawled,"wecouldjustliedownonthehighway
voluntarilyandlettheothersidepaveusover."
Thecornerofhiswidemouthjerked,buttherewasnofriendlylightinthosecoldgreeneyes,

andhis

leanfacewasharderthanthetannedleatheritresembled.HewasGuy'sheight,butevenslimmer,
builtlikearodeocowboywithacruel-lookingmouthandbigfeet.Hekepthislefthandinhis
pocket,butwithhisright,hegesturedtowardthenearestpasture.
“Ifyouwanttoseemynewbull,he'sthatway,”Cysaidshortly.Hecamedownthestepswitha
slow,lazystrideandledthewaytothefencedarea.“He'salreadywoncompetitions.”
Candystaredthroughthefenceattheenormousanimal.Hewasbreathtaking,forabull,withhis

shiny

redcoatandeye-catchingconformation.
“Nothingtosay?”Cychided.
Sheshookherhead.“I'mlostforwords,”sherepliedsimply.“He'sbeautiful.”
Cymadearoughsoundinhisthroat,buthedidn'ttakeheruponthecontroversialdescription.
“Ithoughtyoumightwanttomentionyour,shallwesayunorthodox,pestcontrolmethods,”Guy
prompted.
Cy'sblackeyebrowsjerkedunderthewidebrimofhishat.“Idon'tlikepesticides,”hesaidflatly.
“Theymessupthegroundwatertable.Iuseinsects.”
“Insects?”Candyhadheardofthismethod,andshebegantoquoteamagazinearticleshe'dread
recentlyabouttheuseofbeneficialinsectstocontrolpestinsectsonagriculturalland.
“That'sexactlywhereIfoundoutaboutit,”hereplied,impressed."Ithoughtitwasworthatry,

and

couldn't be worse than the stuff we were already using. I was pretty surprised with the results.

NowI'm

going organic on fertilizer as well." He nodded toward the heifers in a far pasture, safely

removedfrom

hisbull.“Shametowasteallthatby-productofmygrowingpurebredherd,”headdedtongue-in-

cheek.

“Especiallyconsideringwhatcityfolkspendtobuyitinbags.Idon'tevenhavetowasteplastic.”
Candylaughed.Hervoicewasmusical,light,andGuyfoundhimselfstaringather.He
hadn'theardherlaugh,butherewasthetown'smosthostilecitizenandheamusedher.
Cydidn'tsmile,buthisgreeneyesdid.“Youshouldsmilemore,”hesaid.
Sheshrugged.“Everybodyshould.”
Hebenthisheadtowardher."Isawyourmotherafewweeksagoataconvention.She'sturnedto
ice,hasn'tshe?"
Herfacewasshocked.“Well,yes,Isuppose...”
“Can'tblameher,”hesaidheavily.HesearchedCandy'seyes.“Butitwasn'tyourfault.”
“Everybodysaysthat,”shesaidshortly,alltooawareofGuy'sintentscrutiny.
“Youshouldlisten,”hesaidshortly.
Shenodded.“Nowaboutthatbull,”shesaid,changingthesubject.
Once on his favorite theme, he was good for several minutes. For a taciturn man, he was

eloquenton

the subject of that bull and all his good breeding points. He expanded until Candy had all she

needed

andwalkedquietlybesidehimwhileheshowedthemaroundtherestofthecompound.
ShewasreadytoleaveshortlybeforeGuy.
SheshookhandswithCyParks,noddedcautiouslytowardGuy,gotinherrentalcar,anddrove

backto

hermotel.
Guywasn'tinsuchabighurry.Hepausedbythefenderofhispickuptruckandturnedtoward

Cy.

“Whathappenedtoher?”
“Askher,”hesaidwithcustomaryblunt-ness.
“Icouldgetmorebyaskingthecarshe'sridingin.”

Cyshrugged."Idon'tguessit'sanyrealsecret.Aboutnineortenyearsago,herdadtookhertoa
fast-food joint for lunch. You know, Dad and his little girl, sharing a meal and talking to each

other.As

ithappened,thatparticulardaythemanagerhadfiredanemployeefordrinkingonthejob.The

guy

was using drugs, too, but the manager didn't know that. So, there's everybody in the fast-food

joint,

talkingandwaitingfororders,includingCandyandherdad,whenthisguytheyfiredcomesin

withan

AK-47assaultrifleandstartsshooting."
Guycaughthisbreathaudibly.“Wasshehit?”
Cynoddedsolemnly."Inthechest.Destroyed
oneofherlungsandshealmostdied.Theyremovedthelung.Herdadwasn'tsolucky.Hetook
aroundintheface.Diedinstantly.Theysaythathermotherneverstoppedblamingherforit.It
washerideatogothereforlunch,yousee."
“Andthemotherassumedthatifshehadn'twantedtogo,Candy'sfatherwouldstillbealive.”
“Exactly.”HestaredtowardthesmalldustcloudCandy'scarwasmakinginthedistance."She's

real

touchyonthesubject,theysay.Themediahoundedherandhermotherrightaftertheshooting.

Even

now,someenterprisingreporterturnsuphernameandwantstodoanupdate.Hermothersued

oneof

them for trespassing on her ranch and won. She doesn't get bothered much. I imagine Candy

does."He

shookhishead."Ihearthatsheandhermotherbarelyspeakthesedays.Apparentlyshe'sdecided

that

ifMamadoesn'twantheraround,she'llcooperate."
“What'shermotherlike?”
Cy pursed his lips. "The sort you can't imagine ever getting married. Most men walk wide

aroundher.

She'sasausagegrinder.No
inhibitionsaboutspeakinghermind,andthatmindissharpasaknifeblade.NothinglikeCandy,
there,“headdedthoughtfully.”She'sallbluff.Underneath,she'smarshmallow."
Guyscowled.“Howdoyouknowthat?”
“Irecognizeafellowsufferer,”hesaid,andtookhislefthandoutofhispocket.
Guy'seyebrowsjerked,justalittle,whenhesawit.Itwasn'tdisfigured,butithadveryobviously

been

badlyburned.Theskinwasslickandtightoverit.
“Didn't anyone tell you that my Wyoming ranch burned to the ground?” he asked the younger

man."I

don'tsupposetheyaddedthatIwasinitatthetime,withmywifeandson?"
Guy felt sick to his stomach. It was painfully obvious that the other two members of the Parks

family

hadn'tsurvived.
Cylookedathishand,hisjawtautandhisfacehard.Heputitbackinthepocketandlookedat

Guywithdeadeyes."Ittookthreeneighborstodragmebackoutofthehouse.Theysatonme

untilthe

firemen got inside. It was already too late. I'd gotten home late because of bad weather. There

wasa

thunderstormwhileIwasfinishingupsomeurgentpaperwork
intheofficeononesideofthehouse.Thefirestartedintheother,wheretheywerebothasleep.
Later,theysaidalightningstrikecausedthefire.“Hestaredintospacewithterribleeyes.”My

boywas

fiveyears...“Hestopped,turnedaway,breatheduntilhisvoicewassteadyagain.”IleftWyoming.
Couldn'tbearthememories.IthoughtI'dstartagain,here.Moneywasnoproblem,I'vealways

hadthat.

Buttimedoesn'theal.Damnit...!"
Guyfelttheman'spainandunderstoodit."Iwasflyingmyfianceearoundthecountyone
afternoon,“ he said evenly. ”I thought I'd impress her with a barrel roll...but I stalled out. The

plane

wentdown,intosometrees,andhungtherebyathreadwiththepassengersidefacedowntothe

ground.I

cametomysensesandsawAnitathere,hangingontotheseatwithherfeetdangling."Hiseyes

grew

cold."Itmusthavebeenagoodfortyfeettotheground.Shewascrying,pleadingwithmenotto

lether

fall.Ireacheddowntocatchher,andsheletgowithonehandtograbmine.Shelostherhold."

Hiseyes

closed.“Iwakeupinthenight,seeingherface,contortedwithfear,hearhervoicecryingoutto

me.”His

eyesopened
andhedrewinabreath.“Iknowwhathellis.I'velivedinitforthreeyears.Youdon'tgetover

it.”

Cywinced.“I'msorry.”
“SoamI,foryou.Butitdoesn'thelp,doesit?”heaskedoncoldlaughter.Heremovedhishat,

rana

hand through his hair, and put it back on again. “Well, I'll go chase up the publicity lady and

carryon.”

“Sure.”
He lifted a hand and got into the truck. There was really nothing more to be said. But

commiseration

dideasethestingofthings.Justalittle.

Chapter3

GuyfollowedCandybacktothemotel,and
foundhercarparkedinfrontofoneofthe
roomsontheendofthecomplex.Heparkedhis
truckbesideit,gotout,andrappedonherdoor.
Sheopenedthedoor,lookingpaleandworn.
Shewasn'tbreathingverywell,either.
"WecangoouttoMattCaldwell'splace
tomorrow,“hesaidatonce.”Ifyoudon't
mind,"headdedcarefully,tryingnottolethis
concernforherhealthshowtoomuch."I'vegot
afewthingsIneedtodoatthefeedlotthis
afternoon,butifyou'redeterminedtocarryon...?"
“No,itcan...wait.”Shesearchedhisface.“Hetoldyouaboutme,didn'the?”sheaddedwithout
preamble.
Thereseemedlittlereasontohedge.“Yes,”hereplied,withnotraceofexpressiononhisface.

He

continuedasifhehadn'tpaidmuchattentiontothesubject."I'llphoneyouinthemorning.I've

gota

clientcomingtolookoverhiscattle,andhe'llwantdetailsaboutourfeedingprogramthatI'll

haveto

explain to him. He's a lot like J. D. Langley—he doesn't like feedlots but he's working for a

corporation

thatdoes.We'reexpectinghimwhenweopenforbusiness,butifhecomeslater,Imayhavetolet

yougo

toMatt'splacealone.Ifthathappens,I'llfaxamapovertothemotelofficeandyoucanpickitup
beforeyouleave.Hisranchisalmostahalfhouroutoftownonsomerealbackroads.Someof

them

don'tevenhaveroadsigns!"
She was surprised that he didn't mention her past. She relaxed a little. “That will be fine,” she

said.

Hewatchedherstruggleforbreath,andshe
begantocoughratherviolently."Haveyoueverbeentestedforasthma?''hepersisted.
Sheheldatissuetohermouthwhileshefoughttheweaknessthatwasmakingithardforherto

talk

atall.“No.”
“Well, you should be,” he said bluntly, eyes narrow with concern. "Everybody says asthma

makes

you wheeze, but it doesn't always. I dated a girl last year who had it real bad, but she didn't

wheeze,

shejustcougheduntilitsoundedlikeherlungsmightcomeup."
Sheleanedheavilyagainstthedoorfacing.“Whyaren'tyoustilldatingher?”sheasked.
“Iletanotherwomanflirtwithmewhenwewentonourfirstdate,”hereplied."Wedidn'thavea

lotin

common,butIfeltashamed.I'mnotusuallythatinconsiderate."
“Didshefindsomebodyelse?”
Hechuckled."Shemarriedherboss,oneofourlocaldoctors.Myloss,butIthinkhewassweet

onher

fromthebeginning.Hegavemehellaboutlettinghergohomealonefromthetheater."
Shesearchedhiseyesquietly.“Whydoyougetdrunkeveryweekend?”sheasked.
Hewasshocked,andlookedit.“Whotoldyou?”heaskedimpatiently.
“Mr.Gately,whileyouwerelookingatthehorses,”shereplied."Hesaidtostayawayfromyou

on

weekends,andIaskedwhy."
He rammed his hands in his pockets and looked unapproachable. "My fiancee died in a plane

crash.

Iwasflyingtheplane.Istalledouttheengineshowingoff,andImanagedtogetitdownintothe

trees

without killing us. But the tree we landed in was forty feet off the ground. Her seat belt came

looseand

she fell out before I could catch her.“ His eyes darkened with the memory. ”I drink so I won't

haveto

seeherfaceasshefelloutthedoor,orhearherscreamformetohelpher."
Shecrumpledthetissueinherhand.“I'msosorry,”shesaidgently.“Soverysorry.”
“Iwouldn'thavetoldyouifIhadn'tknownwhathappenedtoyou,”hereplied."Somepeoplelove

to

hear about violent deaths. Maybe it makes them feel alive. It just makes me feel like getting

drunk."

“Icanunderstandthat.Butshewouldn'thavewantedyoutomournthatway,wouldshe?”
Hehesitated.“No.Idon'tsupposeshewould.”
“Orliveyourlifealone,either,”shepersisted.Shesmiled."Myfatherwaslikethat,alwaysdoing

for

otherpeople,bringinguslittlepresents,takingcareofus.Hewasmuchmorenurturingthanmy

mother

everwas.Ofcourse,nowshehatesme.Ikilledhim,yousee,“sheaddedtightly.”Iwastheone

who

suggestedthatwegotothatparticularplaceforlunch."
“Itcouldhavehappenedanywhere,”hesaid.
Sheshrugged."Sureitcould,butithappenedthere.Thesedays,IspendaslittletimeathomeasI
canmanage.IsupposeI'mtiredofpayingformysins.“Shelaughedhollowly.”Irun.Yourun.

And

they'restilldead,aren'tthey?"
Hervoicebrokeonthelastword.Hecouldn'tunderstandwhyitaffectedhimthewayitdid,but
hecouldn'tstandthereandwatchhercry.
Heeasedherintothemotelroomandclosedthedoorbehindthem.Hedrewherintohisarms

and

heldherhard,tight,closeagainstthe
lengthofhimwhilehisleanhandstrokedhersofthair.She'dleftitloosetoday,anditfelltoher

shoulderslikedarksilk.Itsmelledofflowers.
“Idon'tneed...”shebegan,injustatokenprotest.
Hesmoothedthehairbackfromherface.“Youdo,”hecorrected."SodoI.It'shumantowant
comfort."
“DoI?”sheaskedmiserably.
“Yes.AndIdo,too.”
Hewrappedherupagainandjuststoodthereholdingherwhilesheclungtohim,moreatpeace

than

he'dbeeninyears.Helikedthewayshefeltinhisarms,warmandsoftandvulnerable.
Shesighedafteraminuteandnestledcloser.
“Didn'tyourmothereverhugyou?”heasked.
"Notreally.Shewasn'taffectionate,exceptwithDad,andthatwasrare.Shestillisn'tatouching
person."
“NeitheramI,asarule.”Hischestliftedandfellagainsther."Whatahardlittleshellyouwear,
Ms.Marshall,"hemurmuredagainsthertemple.
“Idon'twantpity.”
“NeitherdoI,”hesaid.“ButIcouldgetusedtobeingcomforted.”
Shesmiledagainsthisshirt.“SocouldI.”
“Supposewegiveupfightinganddeclareatruce?”
Herheartjumped.“Isn'tthatcowardiceunderfire?”
“Notbetweentwooldtrooperslikeus.”
Shesmoothedherhandoverhissoftshirt."IsupposeIcouldtrynottobeonthedefensiveso

much

ifyou'lltrynottogetdrunk."
He was still. His eyes went past her head to the big oak tree beside the motel. Absently, he

wondered

howolditwas.“Ihaven'ttriedgoingwithoutalcoholinalongtime,”heconfided."Evenifjust

on

weekends.ButI'dhavetohaveanalternative."
Herfingerstoyedwithapearlbuttonmidwaydownhischest.“Idon'tsupposeyoulikefishing.”
Heliftedhishead.“You'rekidding,ofcourse.”
“Doyouordon'tyou?”sheasked,perplexed.
“Iwonthebassrodeolastyear.”
Hereyebrowswentupandshechuckled.“OnlybecauseIwasn'tcompetingwithyou,”shesaid."I
lovetofishforbass!"
Asoulmate,hewasthinking.Healmostsaiditaloud."I'llbetyoudidn'tbringyourtacklewith
you."
Shegrimaced.“Ihadtoflyhere.Icouldn'tcarryeverythingIwantedto.”
"I'll kit you out. I've got spinning reels and cane poles, everything from sinkers to hooks to

floats.

We'llspendSaturdayatthelake."
“I'dloveto!”Shesmiledupathimwithhersofteyes,andhewonderedwhyhe'deverthought

she

wascold.
"I'lltrytogetsomebodytosubstituteformesoIcangowithyoutoMatt'sinthemorning.About

ninesuityou?I'llarrangeitwithhim,too."
“Thatwillbefine.IshelikeCyParks?”sheasked,curious.
Heshookhishead."Mart'seasygoingmostofthetime,unlesshe'sreallymadandthenpeople

get

outofhisway.Helikeswomen.Asarule,"headded.
“There'sanexception,Igather?”
“Onlyone.”Hesmiledather."I'llseeyou
tomorrow.Youmighttrysomestrongcoffee,“hesuggested.”Theysayithelpsanasthmaattack

—if

that'swhatyou'rehaving.Ifyoudon'tgetbetter,callthedoctorsColtrainorDr.Morris.They're

all

great."
“Okay.Thanks.”
Helethergowithasigh.“It'snotaweaknesstogethelpwhenyou'resick,”hemused."Ijust
thoughtI'dmentionthat."
“Iwasn'tallowedtobesickathome,”shetoldhim.“Somelessonsarehardtounlearn.”
Hesearchedherwanface.“Whatachildhoodyoumusthavehad,”hesaidsadly.
“Itwasallright,untilmydaddied.”
“Iwonder,”hemused,unconvinced.
Shecoughedagain,holdingthehandkerchieftohermouth.
Hescowled.“Thatwheatstrawdustgetstoyou,doesn'tit?”heaskedwithconcern."Youneedto

stay

outofenclosedplaceswhereit'sbad.Ifyoureallydohaveasthma,it'sdangerous."
“Ihaveonelung,”shesaidhuskily.“It'ssensitivetodust,Iguess.”
Hewasn'tbuyingit."I'llcallyoutonight,
justtomakesureyou'reokay.Ifitdoesn'tgetbetter,callthedoctororgettothehospital."
“Iwill.Youdon'tneedtoworry.”
“Somebodydoes,”hesaidcurtly."Ifyou'renotbetterinthemorning,wemightputMattoffuntil
you are. He lives in town, but his ranch is about twenty-five minutes out of town. If you had a

lifethreatening

attackoutthere,I'dnevergetyoutotownintimeinthetruck."
“Mr.Caldwellhasanairplane,”shepointedout.
“Hehastwo—aLearjetandalittleCessnaCommuter,”hereplied,"buthe'sonlygoingtobeat

the

ranchlongenoughtointroduceustohisranchmanager.He'sflyinghimselftoFortWorthinthe

Learjet

foraconference."
“I'llbefinebythemorning,”shesaiddoggedly.“IknowIwill.”Sheruinedthestoicimagewith
anotherchokingcough.
“Godrinksomecoffee,justtohumorme,willyou?”
Shesighed.“Okay.”
“Goodgirl.”Hebentabruptlyandputhismouthgentlyagainsthers.
Shejumpedandashockedbreathpulsedoutofher.
Hesearchedhereyescuriously.“Youaren'tafraidofme,areyou?”heaskedgently.
“Idon't...thinkso.”

Her attitude was surprising. She seemed confident and self-assured, until he came intimately

close.

Shedidn'tseemtoknowalotaboutmen.
“Don'tpeoplekissyou,either?”heasked.
“Notalot.”
“Pity,”hesaid,glancingdownathermouth."You'vesuregotthemouthforkissing—softand
warmandverysweet."
Sheputherhandtoit,unconsciously.“Idon'tlikesports,”shesaidabsently.
“What'sthatgottodowithkissing?”
"Most of the men I meet are married, but the ones who aren't want to take me to football or

baseball

games.Ilikefishing."
“Ilikesports,”hemused.“Butmostlyrodeoandfishing.”
“Ilikerodeo,too.”
“See?Somethingwehaveincommon,already,”hesaidwithasmile.Hebentandbrushedhis
mouthagainsthersagain,feeling
the same faintly electric sensation as before. He grinned as his lips teased hers. "I could get

addictedto

this."
Sheputherhandsonhischest.“Ican't...breatheverywell,”shewhispered.“I'msorry.”
Heliftedhisheadandstareddownather."Isthatwhyyoudon'tgetinvolved?Youcan'tgetyour
breathandwhenyoumentionit,menthinkyou'regivingthemthebrush-off?"
“Howdidyouknow?”sheasked,surprised.
“It'stheobviousanswertoyourlackofmarriageablesuitors,”hesaidsimply."Itcertainlyisn't

due

toalackoflooks.Whydidn'tyoutellmemyouonlyhadonelung?"
Shegrimaced.“Itwouldn'thavematteredverymuch.Theywantedalotmorethanafewkisses.”
“Andyoudidn't.”
Sheshookherhead."I'vebeendeadinsidesincemyfatherdied.Thepsychologisttheysentmeto
afterwardsaiditwasguiltbecausehediedandIdidn't.Maybeit'sstillthatway."Shelookedupat
him."Butregardless
oftheguilt,Ijustdon'tfeelthatwaywithmostmen.Well,Ihaven't...before."
She was flushing and he knew why. He grinned, feeling ten feet tall. "It's like little electric

shocks,

isn'tit?"hemused.
Shesmiledshyly.“Sortof.”
Hepursedhislips.“Caretotryforamajorlightningstrike?”
Shelaughed.“Nottoday.”
“Okay.”Hepushedbackastraystrandofherhair,admiringitssoftness."I'llseeyouinthe
morning,then."
“I'lllookforwardtoit.”
Hesobered.“SowillI.”Therewasanoddlittleglitterinhiseyes.Itgrewashelookedather.It

was

almostasifhehadtojerkhiseyesawayfromhersandforcehimselftomoveaway.Infact,that's
exactly how it was. He liked women, and from time to time he was attracted to them. It hadn't

been

likethis.Hewantedthiswomaninwayshe'dneverwantedanyother.
Hehesitatedashereachedthetruck.“Imeantitaboutthedoctor,”hesaidwithgenuineconcern.
“Ifmatcoughdoesn'tstop,seesomeone.”
“Allright.”Shesmiled,waved,andclosedthedoor.
Hedroveaway,butnotwithoutmisgivings.Hedidn'tlikethewayshelookedwhenthatcough

racked

her.Shewasfragile,butshedidn'trealizeitorjustplainignoredit.Sheneededsomeonetotake

care

of her. He smiled at the random thought. That was certainly an outdated notion. Women didn't

like

being taken care of. They wanted to be independent and strong. But he wondered if they didn't

secretly

liketheideaofbeingnurturedbysomeone—notcontrolled,dominated,orsmothered,butjust...
nurtured.
Hethoughtofherasanorchidthatneededjusttherightamountofattention—agrowthmixture

of

bark,alittlecarefulwateringnowandthen—tomakeitgrow.Orchidsneededlotsofhumidity

andcool

nights.HesmiledatthethoughtofCandylettinghimputherinapotandpourwateroverher.

Butit

wasthesortofthinghewanted,totakecareofherandneverletherbehurtagain.Hescowled,

because

thethingshewasthinkingwereverymuchagainsthisnature.Hewasaloner.He'dneverthought

much

aboutnurturinganything,
muchlessawoman.Hecouldn'tthinkofCandyanyotherway,andhe'dknownheronlyamatter
ofdays.
It was too soon to be thinking of anything permanent, he assured himself. All the same, it

wouldn't

hurttokeepaneyeonher.Hehadafeelingthatshewasgoingtoformaverylargepartofhis

future

happiness.
Backinthemotel,Candyhadfinallygottenthebestoftheragingcoughbystiflingitwithalarge

pot

ofstrongblackcoffee.Shehadn'texpectedresults,despiteGuy'sassurancesaboutcoffeebeing

good

forasthma,butapparentlyhewasright.Shefrowned.Ifshedidhaveasthma,itwasgoingto
complicateherlife.Workingaroundranchesandwheatstrawdustandgraindustwasgoingto
constituteamajorchallenge,evenifmerewasareliabletreatmentforit.
ShesippedhercoffeeandthoughtaboutGuy'sconcern,aboutthewayhetookcareofher.She

wasa

modernwoman,ofcourseshewas.Butitfeltnice,havingsomebodycarewhathappenedtoher.

Her

motherdidn't.Nobodyhadcaredwhathappenedtohersinceher

father died. She couldn't help being touched by Guy's concern—and wasn't that an about-face

fromhis

firstattemptsatit,sheaskedherselfwryly.
Later,justbeforeshewenttobed,thephonerang.ItwasGuy,justcheckingonher.Shetoldhim

that

shewasallrightandhetoldherthathe'dfoundsomeonetohandlethevisitingcattlemanforhim.

He'd

seeherinthemorning.
Hehungupandsheheldontothereceiverforalongtimebeforesheputitdown.Itwasn'tbad,
havingsomebodycareabouther.Itwasn'tbadatall.
Thenextmorningdawnedbrightandbeautiful.Candydressedinaneatbeigepantsuitandsuede
bootsforthetrip,leavingherhairloose.Shefeltyoungerandhappierthanshehadinyears.She

hada

wholenewoutlookonlifebecauseofGuy.
ShereviewedherfewfactsontheCaldwellranch.ItwasonlyoneofadozenpiesMatthadhis
fingerin.Hewasanentrepreneurinthetruesenseoftheword,anempire-builder.Ifhe'dbeen

borna

hundredyearsago,he'd
havebeenamanlikeRichardKing,whofoundedthefamousKingRanchinsoutheast-emTexas.

Matt

was an easygoing, pleasant man to most people. She'd heard that he was hell in boots to his

enemies.

Therewerealwaysrumorsaboutsuchapowerfulman,andoneofthemwasthathehaditinfor

afemale

friendofhiscousin'sandhadcausedhertoloseherjob.Itwasaglaringblackmarkagainsta

manwho

wasgenerallyknownforfairplay,andpeopletalkedaboutit.Shewasaveryyoungwoman,at

that,

notatallthesortoffemalethehandsometycoonwasfrequentlyseenwith.
Mart'stasterantomodelsandHollywoodstars.Hehadnouseforhigh-poweredcareerwomen

in

his private life, although he employed several in executive positions in his various companies.

Perhaps

thatwaswhytheyoungwomanhadrunafoulofhistemper,Candyspeculated.Shewasrumored

tobe

veryintelligentandsharpatbusiness.
A rap on the motel door startled her. She went to answer it and found a smiling Guy on the

doorstep.

“Readytogo?”
“Oh,yes!”shesaidbrightly.Thedayhadtakenadefiniteturnforthebetter.
Matt'ssprawlingranchlayabouttwenty-fiveminutesoutoftown,anditwastrulyoutinthe
boondocks.
Guytookaroadthatwasn'tidentifiedinanywayandflashedagrinatCandy."I'mafraidevena

good

mapwouldn'thavehelpedmuch.Mattsayshelikesbeingsomeplacewherehe'shardtofind,but

it'shell

onpeoplewhohavetogoouthereonbusiness."
“Hemustnotlikepeople,”shecommented.
"Hedoes,infact,butnotwhenhe'sinablackmood.That'swhenhecomesouthere.Heworks
rightalongsidehiscowhandsandtheneweronessometimesdon'tevenrealizehe'sthebossuntil

theysee

himinasuitandboardingtheLearjet.He'sjustoneoftheboys."
“Howrichishe?”sheasked.
Hechuckled."Nobodyknows.Heownsthisranchandarealestatefranchise,twoplanes,hehas
propertyinAustraliaandMexico,he'sontheboardofdirectorsoffourcompaniesandonthe

boardof

trusteesoftwouniversities.Inhissparetime,hebuysandsellscattle."
Heshookhishead.“I'veneverknownamanwithsomuchenergy.”
“Doeshedoittogethismindoffsomething?”shewonderedaloud.
“Nobody's ever had the nerve to ask. Mart's very pleasant, but he isn't the sort of man you

question.”

Shebumpedalongbesidehiminthetruckandsomethingnaggedatthebackofhermind.
“Yousaidyouwereflyingtheplane.Didyouownit?”sheaskedcarefully.
He drew in a slow breath. He didn't want to talk about it, but then, she was entitled to know

something

abouthim.Heglancedather.“Idid.Ihaveanaircargocompany.”
Hereyeswidened.“Andyou'reworkingforwagesatafeedlot?”
“Theydon'tknowIownthecompany,”hetoldher."Iwantedsomeplaceto...Idon'tknow,hide

out

maybe.“ He shrugged broad shoulders. ”I couldn't cope with the memories there, and I didn't

want

enoughsparetimetothink.IgotthemostdemandingjobIcouldfind.I'vebeenherethreeyears

and

Ilikeit.Mymanagerisdoinggreatthingswiththeair
cargocompany.I'mconsideringmakinghimafullpartner."
“Isitaprofitablecompany?”
“I'mnotinMattCaldwell'sleague,”hesaid.“ButIsupposeI'mprettyclose.”Heglancedather
andsmiled."IcouldaffordtolivehighifIliked.Idon't.Iwastoofondofthefastlane.It'swhat
costmeAnita.“Hisfacetautenedashestaredaheadatthelong,windingroad.”I'dbeenonthe

road

allofthedaybefore,andIhadn'tsleptthatnightbecausesomeonehadapartyandIwasenjoying
myself.Anitawantedtogoupforafewminutes,soItookher.IfI'dhadagoodnight'ssleep,I
wouldn'thavedonesuchasketchywalk-aroundandI'dhavenoticedtheproblemintheengine

beforeit

caused a tragedy. That was when I looked at my life and decided that I was wasting it. I came

down

here to decide what to do.“ He shook his head. ”It's been three years and I still haven't decided

that."

“Whatdoyouwanttodo?”sheasked.
Hiseyesheldafarawaylook.“Iwanttosettledownandhaveafamily.”Hesawtheexpression

on

herfaceandchuckled."Ican
seethatyouhadn'tconsideredthatanswerasapossibility."
“Youdon'tseemthesortofmantowanttosettle,”shesaidevasively.Shetwistedherpurseinher
lap.
"I wasn't, until recently. I'm not that old, but I'm beginning to see down the road further than I

used

to.Idon'twanttogrowoldanddiealone."
“Mostpeopledon't.”
Hegrinned.“Includingyou?”
Shehesitated.“I'dneverreallythoughtaboutmarryingandhavingafamily,”shesaidseriously.
“Becauseyouonlyhaveonelung?Thatshouldn'tworryyou.”
“Itmightworryaprospectivehusband,”shepointedout.“Mostmenwantawholewoman.”
“You'rewhole,ineverywaythatmatters,”hesaidfirmly.“Withorwithouttwolungs.”
Shesmiled.“Thanks.Thatwasnice.Butmarriageisabigstep.”
"Notreally.Notiftwopeoplehavealotincommonandifthey'regoodfriends.I'veseensome

very

happymarriagessinceImovedto
Jacobsville.Marriageiswhatyoumakeofit,"hesaidpensively.
“Sotheysay.”
Theroaddead-endedatalong,windinggraveldrivewaywithahugeblackmailboxatthefork

which

readCaldwellDoubleCRanch.
“We'realmostthere,”Guytoldher,pullingintotheranchroad."Mattrunssomeoftheprettiest
SantaGertrudiscattleinthestate.It'sapurebredherd,whichmeanstheyaren'tslaughtercattle.

Hesells

seedbullsandheifers,mostly,andhedoesaroaringbusiness."
“IlikeSantaGerts,”sheremarked.
“Sodidmyfather,”hetoldher."HeworkedontheKingRanch.Igrewupwithcattleandalways
loved them. I just loved airplanes more. Now I'm caught between the two. That tickles my

parents."

“They'restillalive?”
Hechuckled."Very.Hestillworksonaranch,andshe'sgoneintorealestate!Igotovisitthem
everyfewmonths.“Heglancedather.”AsImentionedbefore,IhaveabrotherinCaliforniaand

a

sisterinWashingtonState.Shehasalittleboyaboutfour.Herhusband'salawyer."
“Quiteafamily,”shemused.
“You'dlikemyfamily,”hetoldher."They'rejustplainfolks,nothingputonorfancy,andthey
lovecompany."
“My mother screams about uninvited guests,” she recalled. "She's not really fond of people

unless

theycometobuycattle.She'sprettymercenary."
“Youaren't.”
Shelaughed."Thanksfornoticing.No,I'llnevermakeabusinesswoman.IfIhadalotofmoney,

I'd

probablygiveitallaway.I'masuckerforalostcause."
“Thatmakestwoofus.Andhereweare.”
Heindicatedasprawlingwhitetwo-storyranchhousewithaporchmatrantwo-thirdsoftheway
aroundit.Therewasaporchswingandplentyofchairsandgliderstositin.Thepasturefences

near

thehousewereallwhite,andbehindmemred-coatedcattlegrazedongreengrass.
“Improvedpasture,”shemurmured,takingnotes.“Youcanalwaystellbythelushgrass.”
"Matt'sasticklerforimprovements.There
heis."Henoddedtowardthefrontsteps,whereatall,darklyhandsomemaninasuitandawhite
Stetsonwascomingdowntogreetthem.

Chapter4

MattCaldwellwasattractive,andhehadalivewirepersonalitytogowithhisleangoodlooks.

He

helpedCandyfromthetruckwithacharmthatimmediatelycaptivatedher.
“GladyougotherebeforeIhadtoleave,”Mattsaid,greetingGuyashecamearoundthetruck.

"I'm

goingtohavePaddyshowyoutheplace.IwishIcould,butI'malreadylateforameetingin
Houston.“Heglancedathiswatch.”Ineverhaveaminutetosparethesedays.IthinkIneedto

slow

down."
“Itwouldn'thurt,”Guychuckled.“CandyMarshall,thisisMattCaldwell.”
“Gladtomeetyou,”Candysaidwithasmileandanextendedhand.
Mattshookitwarmly.“Publicistsaregettingneaterbytheday,”hemused."Thelastonewehad
herewastwenty-five,unshaven,anddidn'tknowaSantaGertfromaHol-stein."
“Ishavedmybeardoffjustthismorning,”shesaidpertly.
Matt chuckled. “Glad to know that you have good personal hygiene,” he drawled. "Paddy will

showyou

anythingyouwanttosee.Ifyouneedtotalktome,Ishouldbebackbytomorrowmorning.If

that's

notsoonenough,youcanfaxmethequestions,I'llanswerthemandfaxthembacktoyou."He

handed

herabusinesscardwithMatherCaldwellEnterprises,Inc.inraisedblacklettering.
“Impressive,”shetoldhim.
Hechuckled.“Notvery.”HeglancedatGuywithacalculatinggleaminhiseyes."Ifyouwanted
to give her a bird's-eye view of the ranch, the Cessna Commuter 150's gassed up and ready to

fly."

Guy'sfacewenthardjustthinkingaboutthesmall,two-seaterplane.Itwasthetypehe'd
crashedthreeyearsagotakingAnitaforaride.“Idon'tflyanymore.”
Mattexchangedacomplicatedglancewithhim.“Pity.”
“Shewantstoseecattleonthehoof,anyway.”
"IboughtanewSantaGertrudisbullfromtheKingRanch.Paddywillshowhimtoyou.He'sa
looker.“Mattshookhandswiththemboth.”Gottorun,“hesaid.”Paddyshouldbeouthereany
minute.Hewaswithmewhenyoudroveup,buthegotheldupintheoffice.Haveaseatonthe

porch

andwaitforhim."
“Niceporch,”Candyremarked.
Hegrinned."Iboughttheplacefortheporch.Iliketositoutthereonwarmsummerevenings

and

listentoRachmaninoff."
He piled into his Mercedes and gunned the engine as he drove out to the small hangar and

airstripthat

werebarelyvisibleinthedistance.
"Does he do that often? Offer you his airplane, I mean?'' Candy asked when they were

comfortably

seatedintheporchswing.
“Every time he sees me,” he said with resignation. "I suppose I'm getting used to it. Which

doesn't

meanIlikeit,"headded.
She didn't quite know how to answer that. It was a good thing that Paddy Kilgraw chose that

moment

tocomeoutontotheporch.Hewasawizenedlittlemanwithskinlikeleatherandtwinklingblue

eyes.

Hetookoffhishat,revealingpaleredhaironeithersideofahugebaldspot,andshookhands

warmly

withthemboth.HeledthemouttothebarnandCandygotdowntobusiness.
Matt'soperationwasenormous,butitstillhadthepersonaltouch.Hekneweachofhisbullsby
name,and at leasttwo of themwere tame. Candy enjoyedthe way theynuzzled her hand when

she

petted them. To her mother, cattle were for slaughter, nothing else. Candy much preferred a

ranchthat

concentratedonkeepingthemalive,wheretheownerlikedhisanimalsandtookpropercareof

them.

EvencantankerousCyParks,whodidrunbeefcattle,wasconcernedfortheirwelfareandnever

treated

themasiftheywerenothingmorethananinvestment.
But the barn, while neat and clean for such a structure, was filled with wheat straw, and it was

strictly

anenclosedspace.They'dbarely
entereditwhenCandystartedcoughing.Shebentoverdoubleandcouldn'tstop.
GuyaskedPaddyforacupofcoffee,whichthelittlemanwentrunningtoget.Meanwhile,Guy

lifted

Candyandcarriedheroutofthebarn,towheretheairwaslesspollutedbywheatstrawdust.But
once outside, seated on the running board of the truck, she was still coughing. Tears were

runningdown

herface,whichwasredasfire.
Paddyappearedwithacupofcoffee.“It'scold,willthatdo?”heaskedquickly.
“Coldisfine.It'sthecaffeinewewant.”Guyheldittoherlips,butshewascoughingsohardthat
shecouldn'tevendrinkinbetweenspasms.Hisfacecontortedwithfear.HelookedupatPaddy

from

hiskneelingpositionbesideCandy.“Ithinkit'sabadasthmaattack,”hesaidabruptly.
“Hasshegotaninhaleronher?”Paddyasked.
Guyshookhisheadworriedly.“Shehasn'tbeendiagnosedbyadoctoryet.Damn!”
Shebentoveragain,andmistimeshewasdefinitelywheezingasshecoughed.Itwasgetting
worsebythesecondandshelookedasifshewasstrugglingtogetasinglebreathofair.
“It'stwenty-fiveminutestoJacobsville!”Guysaidharshly.“I'llnevergetherthereintime!”
“TaketheCommuter,”Paddysaid."I'vegotthekeysinmypocket.Bosssaidyoumightliketo

fly

herwhileyouwerehere."

Guy'seyeswerehaunted.“Paddy,Ican't!”hebitoff,horrorinhisexpressionatthememoryof

his

lastflight.
Paddyputafirmhandonhisshoulder.“Herlifedependsonit,”heremindedtheyoungerman
solemnly.“Yes,youcan!Here.Go!”
GuytookanotherlookatCandyandgroaned.HetookthekeysfromPaddy,putCandyinthe
truck,swunginbesideher,andgunnedtheengineouttotheairstrip,withPaddyhangingonin

the

truckbed.
Hepulledthetrucktoastopatthehangar.LeavingCandyinthecabofthetruck,GuyandPaddy
gotthelittleCessnapulledoutontotheapron.ThenGuycarriedCandyandstrappedherintothe
passengerside.Shewasbarelyconscious,herbreathraspingasshetrieddesperatelytobreathe.
“You'llmakeit,”Paddysaidfirmly."I'llphoneaheadandhaveanambulanceandEMTswaiting

at

theairportinJacobsvillewiththenecessaryequipment.Getgoing!"
“Thanks,Paddy,”Guycalledasherantogetinsidetheplane.
It had been a long time since he'd flown, but it was like riding a bicycle, it came right back to

him.He

wentoverthecontrolsandgaugesandswitchesafterhe'dfireduptheengine.Hetaxiedthelittle

plane

outontotherunwayandsaidasilentprayer.
“It'sgoingtobeallright,honey,”hetoldCandyinaharshtone."Trytohangon.I'llhaveyouto
thehospitalinnotimeinthis!"
Shecouldn'tmanageareply.Shefeltasifsheweredrowning,unabletogetevenabreathofair.

She

grippedtheedgeoftheseat,cryingsilently,terrified,asGuysentthelittleaircraftzippingdown

the

runwayandsuddenlyintotheair.
HecircledandturnedtheplanetowardJacobsville,thankingGodforhisskillasapilotthathad
madethistripevenpossible.HecouldseethatCandywasslowlyturningblueandlosing
consciousness.
“Justalittlelonger,sweetheart,”hepleadedabovethenoiseoftheengine."Justalittlelonger!
Pleaseholdon!"
Hekepttalkingtoher,soothingher,encouragingherallthewaytotheJacobsvilleairport.He

was

so preoccupied with her welfare that his horror of flying took a back seat to bis concern for

Candy.He

called the tower and was immediately given clearance to land, which he did, faultlessly. An

ambulance

pulledontothetarmac,lightsflashing,andcametoahaltashetaxiedontotheapronandcutthe
engine.
Seconds later, they had Candy out of the plane and on oxygen. They loaded her into the

ambulance,

with one EMT and a worried Guy in the back with her. They roared away to the hospital, with

Guy

holdingherhandandprayingsilentlythathewasn'tgoingtoloseher,whenhe'donlyjustfound

her.

Her color was better and she was breathing less strenuously when the ambulance pulled up

sharplyat

the emergency entrance. The physician on duty came running out behind the nurses and

supervised

Candy'sentrance.
GuywasgentlyputtoonesidewhileCandy
waswheeledrightintotheemergencyroom,intoacubicle.
“Youcansithereinthewaitingarea,”anursetoldhimwithagentlesmile."Don'tworry.She's
goingtobefine."
Easytosay,hethoughtworriedly.Hejammedhishandsintothepocketsofhisjeansandpaced,
oblivioustotheotherpeoplealsowaitingandworryingnearby.Hecouldn'trememberthelast

timehe'd

beensoupset.
HeglancedtowardtheswingingdoorsthroughwhichCandyhadbeentakenandsighed.She'd
lookedalittlebetteraftertheoxygenmaskwasputintoplace,butheknewitwasgoingtotake

more

than that to get her back on her feet. He was almost certain that they'd keep her overnight. He

hoped

theywould.Shewasstubbornandunlikelytofollowinstructions.
Just when he was contemplating storming the doors, the physician came and motioned him

inside.

Hepulledhimintoanemptycubicleandclosedthecurtain.“Issheyourfiancee?”heaskedGuy.
Heshookhishead."She'savisitingpublicist
forthecattlemen'sassociation.Iwasdeputizedbyourlocalassociationtoescortheraroundthe
arearanches."
“Damn!”thedoctormuttered.
“Why?What'swrong?”
He glowered. "She's got the worst case of asthma I've come across in years, and she won't

believe

it.I'vegotheronanebulizernow,butshe'sgoingtoneedaprimarycarephysiciantoevaluate

and

treather,orthisisn'tgoingtobeanisolatedincident.Sheneedstoseesomeonerightaway.ButI

can't

convinceher."
Guysmiledwryly.“Leaveittome,”hemurmured."IthinkI'mbeginningtoknowhowtohandle
her.Isthisalong-standingcondition,doyouthink?"
"Yes,Ido.Thecoughingthrewheroff.Mostpeopledon'tassociateitwithasthma,butwhileit's

not

as common as wheezing, it is certainly a symptom. I've prescribed a rescue inhaler for her to

carry,

andtoldherthatsheneedstobeonapreventative.Herowndoctorcanprescribethat."
“ShelivesinDenver,”Guysaid.“I'mnotsureshegoestoadoctorregularly.”
“She'dbetter,”theyoungmansaidflatly."Shealmostgotheretoolate.Anotherfewminutesand

it

wouldhavebeentouchandgo."
“Ifiguredthat,”Guysaidquietly.
“Sheowesyouherlife,”hecontinued.
“Sheowesmenothing,butI'mgoingtomakesurethatshetakescareofherselffromnowon.”
“I'mgladtohearit.”
“MayIseeher?”
Hesmiledandnodded.“Sure.Shewon'tbeabletotalk.She'sverybusy.”
“Good.Shecanlistenbetter.I'vegotalottotellher.”
Thedoctoronlychuckled.Heledthewayintoalargercubiclewhereaworn-lookingCandywas
inhaling something in a mask that covered part of her face. She glanced at him and looked

irritated.

“Asthma,”Guysaid,ploppingdownontoastoolnearby.“Itoldyou,didn'tI?”
Shecouldn'tspeak,buthereyesdid.Theywereeloquent.
“Hesaysyouneedtoseeadoctorandgettheasthmatreated.”
Shetuggedatthemask.“Iwon't!”
“Youwill,”hereplied,puttingitfirmlybackinplace.“Committingsuicideisnotsensible.”
Shestruckthesideoftheexaminationcouchwithherhand.
“Iknow,youdon'twantanymorecomplications,”hesaidforher."Butthiscouldhavecostyou
dearly.Youhavetotakeprecautions,sothatitdoesn'thappenagain."
Hereyesseemedtobrighten.Sheshiftedandshookherhead.
“Hayandwheatandranchessortofgotogether,”Guysaid."Ifyou'regoingtospendanytime

around

them,youhavetohavepropercare.I'mgoingtomakesureyougetit."
Shegavehimalookthatsaidhimandwhatarmy?
Hechuckled.“We'llgointothatlater.Gettingeasiertobreathe?”
Shehesitated,andthennodded.Shesearchedhiseyesandmadeaflyingmotionwithherhand.
Shetuggedthemaskasideforasecond.“I'msorry...youhadtodothat.Areyou...allright?”
Heputthemaskbackinplaceagain,
touchedbyherconcernforhimatsuchatraumatictimeforherself.“Yes,I'mallright,”hesaid.'

'I

didn'thavetimetothinkaboutmyselfandmyfears.Iwastoobusytryingtosaveyou.Itwasn'tas

badasI

thought it would be. Of course,“ he added with a faint smile, ”I was pretty preoccupied at the

time."

“Thankyou,”shesaidinaghostly,hoarsetone.
“Don'ttalk.Breathe.”
Shesighed.“Okay.”
The nebulizer took a long time to empty. By the time she'd breathed in the last of the bron-

chodilator,

shewasexhausted.Butshecouldgetherbreathagain.
Thedoctorcamebackinandreiteratedwhathe'dsaidaboutseeingaphysicianfortreatmentof

her

asthma.
He gave her a sample inhaler and a prescription for another, plus another prescription. “This

ones—”he

tappedit"—isforwhatwecallaspacer.It'samoreefficientwayofdeliveringthemedicinethan

a

pocketinhaler.You'retofollowthedirections.Andassoonaspossible,yougettreatment.Idon't

want

to
seeyoubackinhereagaininthatcondition,"headdedwithasmiletosoftenthewords.
“Thankyou,”shesaid.
Heshrugged.“That'swhatwe'reherefor.”Hefrowned."Youneverknewyouhadasthma.Ifind
thatincredible.Don'tyouhaveafamilyphysician?"
“IonlygototheclinicwhenI'msick,”shesaidshortly.“Idon'thavearegulardoctor.”
“Findone,”thephysicianrecommendedbluntly.“You'reatragedywaitingtohappen.”
HeshookhandswithGuyandlefttheminthecubicle.
Guy helped her to her feet and escorted her to the clerk, where she gave her credit card and

addressto

thewomanincharge.
“Noinsurance,either?”heasked.
Sheshrugged.“Itneverseemednecessary.”
“Youneedtakinginhand.”
Sheshookherhead.“Nottonight.I'mtootiredtofight.Iwanttogobacktothemotel.”
Hedidn'tlikethatideaatall.Heworriedabouther,beingaloneatnight."Youshouldn'tbeby
yourself,“hesaiduneasily.”Icouldgetanursetocomeandstaywithyou."
“No!”shesaidvehemently.“Icantakecareofmyself!”
“Don'tgetupset,”hesaidfirmly.“Itwon'thelpmatters.Itcouldevenbringonanotherattack.”
Shedrewinashakybreath.“I'msorry.Itscaredme.”
“Thatmakestwoofus,”heconfided.“I'venevermovedsofastinmylife.”Hecaughtherhand

in

hisandheldittight.“Don'tdothatagain,”headdedinastrainedtone.
Sheturnedtohimastheymadeitintothesunlight.“Howdowegettothemotel?”sheasked
worriedly.“Andwhataboutyourtruck?”
“Paddy will take good care of the truck. We have a taxi service here. We can use it,” he added

witha

smile."Comeon.IneedtomakearrangementstoreturntheplaneandthenI'llseethatyouget

where

youwanttogo.Eventually,"headdedunderhisbreath.
Candyexpectedthecabtotakethemtothemotel,buttheaddressGuygavethedriverwasn'tthe
motelafterall.Itwasadoctor'soffice.
“Nowseehere...!”shebegan.
Her protests didn't cut any ice. He paid the driver and frog-marched her into Drew Morris's

waiting

room.Thereceptionistwho'dreplacedDrew'swife,Kitty,smiledatthem.
Guy explained the problem, and the receptionist had them take a seat. But only a couple of

minutes

later,theywerehustledintoacubicle.
DrewMorriscamerightin.HeignoredCandy'sprotestsandexaminedherwithhisstethoscope.

Secondslater,hewrappedthestethoscopearoundhisneck,satbackonthecouch,andfoldedhis
arms.
"I'mnotyourphysician,butI'lldountilyougetone.I'mgoingtogiveyouaprescriptionfora
preventativemedicine.Youuseitalongwiththeinhalertheemergencyroomdoctorgaveyou."
“Howdidyouknowaboutthat?”Candyasked,aghast.
“Guycalledmebeforehecalledmecab,”Drewsaidnonchalantly."Youusebothmedicines.If

the

medicines stop working, for any reason, don't increase the dosage—call me or get to the

emergency

room.Youhadalifethreatening
episodetoday.Letitbeawarning.Youcancontrolasthma,youcan'tcureit.Youhaveto
preventtheseattacks."
Shegaveingracefully.“Okay,”shesaid.“I'lldowhatI'mtold.”
“Haveyouhadproblemslikethisbefore?”
Shenodded."Quiteabit.Ithoughtitwasjustamildallergy.Nobodyinmyfamilyhasanysort

of

lungproblem."
"Itdoesn'thavetobeinherited.Somepeoplejustgetit—moretodaythaneverbefore,especially
children.It'sbecomingamajorproblem,andI'mconvincedthatpollutionhassomethingtodo

with

it."
“Whataboutmyjob?”sheaskedmiserably.“IlovewhatIdo.”
“Whatdoyoudo?”Drewasked.
"I go around to ranches and interview people on their production methods. There's always a

grain

elevator,astoragesilo,abarnfulofhayorwheatstraw—they'reunavoidable."
“Thenwearamaskanduseyourinhalantsbeforeyougonearthosepollutants,”Drewsaid."No
reasonyoucan'tkeepdoingyourjob.PeoplewithasthmahavewonOlympic
medals.Itwon'tgetyoudownunlessyouletit."
Shesmiledathim.“You'reveryencouraging.”
“Ihavetobe.Mywife,Kitty,isasthmatic.”
“HowisKitty?”Guyasked.
Hechuckled.“Pregnant,”hemurmured,andhishighcheekbonescolored."Wecouldn'tbe
happier."
“Congratulations,”Guysaid.“AndthanksforhavingalookatCandy.”
“Mypleasure,”Drewreplied,andnotwithoutanoticeablespeculationashisgazewentfromone

of

themtotheother.
“Heseemstoknowyouverywell,”Candymentionedwhenthecabwascarryingthembackto

her

motel.
''Hedoes.Iusedtodatehiswife,beforeshewashiswife,“hesaid.”Itoldyouabouther.She
coughedinsteadofwheezed."
“Oh, yes, I remember.” She didn't like the memory. Guy had apparently done a lot of dating

locally,

despitehisgriefatlosinghisfianc6e.
“Kittywassweetandgentle,andIlikedheralot,”hecontinued."ButshelovedDrew.
I'mgladtheymadeit.Hewasgrievingforhislatewife.Peoplearoundhereneverthoughthe'd

marry

again.IguessKittycameuponhisblindside."
“He'snice.”
“Yes,butlikeallourdoctorsaroundhere,he'sgotatemper.”Heglancedatherpock-etbookand
leaned forward and told the cab-driver to stop at the nearby pharmacy. "You need to get those

filled.

We'llwaitforthemandcallacabwhenthey'refilled."
“Icoulddoittomorrow,”Candybegan.
“No,”hesaid,leaningovertheseattotalktothecabdriver.
Theystopped and gotthe prescriptions filledand then went onto the motel.Guy left Candy in

herroom

reluctantlyandmadesurethatshehadabucketoficeandsomesoftdrinksbeforeheleft,sothat

she

wouldn'thavetogoouttogetthem.
“Trytogetsomerest,”hesaid.
“Butwedidn'tgettoseeallofMart'sranch,”sheprotested,frowning."HowwillIeverwritethe
story?"
''Mattsaidhecouldfaxyoutheanswerstoanyquestionsyoudidn'tgetansweredatmeranch,"

he

replied."I'llexplainthesituation
tohimandyoucanworkupsomequestions.I'llmakesurehegetsthem."
“That'sreallyniceofyou,”shesaid.
He smiled down at her, feeling protective and possessive all at once. "This could be habit-

forming,

too,youknow."
“Whatcould?”
“Takingcareofyou,”hesaidsoftly.Hebentandbrushedhismouthtenderlyagainsthers."Lie
downandrestforawhile.I'llcomebackandgetyouandtakeyououttoeat,ifyou'reuptoit."
Shegrimaced.“Iwantto,”shesaid.“ButI'msotired,Guy.”
Shedidlooktired.Herfacewasdrawnandtherewerenewlinesaroundhermouthandeyes.He
tracedoneofthemlightly.
“SupposeIbringsomethingovertoyou?”heasked.“Whatwouldyoulike?”
“Porklomein,”shesaidatonce.
Hegrinned.“Myfavorite.I'llseeyouaboutsix.”
“Okay.”
Hefinishedhischoresatthefeedlot,havinghadPaddydrivehistruckbacktotown.Hedrove

Paddy

homeandthenwenttogetsupper
forCandy.Hetookthefoodtothemotel.Theyatesilentlyandthenrentedanactionfilmonthe

payper

viewchannelandpileduptogetherononeofthedoublebedstowatchit.
Innotimeatall,Candywascurledupagainsthimsoundasleep.Heheldherthatway,marveling

at the wonder of their closeness, at her vulnerability and his own renewed strength. He hadn't

thought

seriously about getting involved with anyone since he'd lost Anita, but Candy had slipped so

naturally

intohislifethatheacceptedherpresencewithnomisgivingsatall.
He looked down at her with soft, possessive eyes. He didn't want to go back to the feedlot. He

wantedto

stayherewithher,allnightlong.Butifhedidthat,he'dcompromiseher.Hecouldn'triskthat.

She

mightnotwantcommitmentsosoon.Hewonderedaboutthesanityofgettingmixedupwitha

woman

wholivedseveralstatesaway,buthecouldn'ttalkhimselfoutofit.
He knew at that moment that she had a hold on him that no distance, no circumstance, could

break.

Andhewasafraid.

Chapter5

GuybentandkissedCandy'sclosedeyes,brushinghislipsagainstthemuntiltheyflutteredand
lifted.
Shelookedupathimdrowsily,butwithabsolutetrust.Involuntarily,herarmssnakeduparound

his

neckandshepulledhimdowntokisshimslowly,tenderly,onhishardmouth.
He groaned, and she felt him move, so that his body shifted next to hers. The kiss grew in

pressure

andinsistenceuntilonelonglegslidrightbetweenbothofhersandhismouthdemanded.
Shepushedathischest,frightenedbythesuddenlackofbreathableair.
Hisheadlifted.Hebreathedroughly,butheunderstoodwithoutspeakingwhyshe'ddrawnback.
“Sorry,”hewhispered.Hismouthmovedtoherchin,herneck,andintomeopeningherblouse

left.His

leanfingersunfastenedbuttons,sothathismouthcouldmovedownpasthercollarboneandonto

even

softerflesh.
Herhandspickedathisshirt,hesitated,asnewsensationslancedthroughher.Shelovedthefeel

of

hismouth.Shedidn'tprotestasheeasedthelacystrapoffhershoulder,andhismouthtrespassed

on

fleshthathadneverknownaman'stouchbefore.
Sheyieldedimmediately,archinguptomeethislips,pushingthefabricasidetomakewayforit.

She

felthismouthoverherhardnippleanditssuddenmoistpressuremadehermoanwithpleasure.
Heliftedhisheadandlookedwherehismouthhadtouched.Hetracedthefirmrisesensuallyand
benttokissitoncemore,lovingly,beforeherightedthelacystrapandbuttonedtheblouseagain.
Hereyesaskedaquestion.
He smiled and bent to kiss her tenderly. “We have all the time in the world for that,” he

whispered.

“Rightnow,you'realittlewoundedbirdandIhavetotakecareofyou.”
Tearsstunghereyes.She'dneverhadtenderness.Itwasnewandoverpowering.
He kissed the tears away. “Don't cry,” he murmured. "You're going to be fine now. Just fine.

Nothing

badisevergoingtohappentoyouaslongasI'maround."
Sheclungtohimhard,buryingherfaceinhisthroatasthetearsfellevenmorehotly.
“Oh,Candy,”hemurmuredhuskily.Heheldherclose,rockedherinhisarms,untilshehadher
self-control back. Then he got up from the bed and pulled her up beside him, to hold her

carefullyclose.

“Sorry,”shemurmuredonasob.“IguessI'mtired.”
“SoamI.”Hebrushedhismouthagainstherpertnose."I'mgoingbacktothefeedlot.CanIget
youanythingbeforeIgo?"
Sheshookherhead.Shesmiledhesitantly.“Howaboutthatfishingtriptomorrow?”
Hesmiled.“I'mgameifyouare.”

“I'llusemymedicines,”shesaidwithoutenthusiasm.
“Yousurewill,orwewon'tgo,”heassuredher.
Shewrinkledhernoseathim.“Spoilsport.”
“Ihateemergencyrooms,”hesaidsimply.“Wehavetokeepyououtofthem.”
“I'lltry.”
“Good.”
“Thank you for saving my life,” she said solemnly. "I know it must have brought back some

terrible

memoriesforyou,havingtoflyagain."
Hewouldn'tadmitthat.Hewasn'tgoingtothinkaboutit.Heonlysmiledather,inavague,
pleasant way. "Get some sleep. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow. If you feel like going,

we'llgo.If

not,we'llfindsomeotherwaytopassthetime.Okay?"
Shesmiledwearily.“Okay.”
Heleftherandwentbacktothebunkhouseatthefeedlot,buthedidn'tsleep.Overandoveragain
hesawAnita'sface.Hegroanedashefinallyjustgotupandforgottryingtomakethememories

goaway.

Itwasuseless.
Thenextmorning,GuyandCandywentfishingontheriver,withcanepolesandabaitbucket.It

was,

shemuttered,absolutelyprimitivetotrytocatchafishinsuchamanner.
Heonlygrinned.He'dmadeasmallfireandhehadafryingpanheating.Hewasgoingtotreat

herto

freshfishforlunch.
Itwasagoodidea,exceptthattheysatontheriverbankforthreehoursandattheendofitthey

had

yellowflybitesandmosquitobites,andnotonefishbetweenthem.
“Itmusthavebeenthisprehistoricfishinggear,”Candyremarkedwithagloweringlook."The

fish

probablylaughedsohardthattheysanktothebottom!"
“Itisn'tprehistoric,”hesaid.“Itgivesfishasportingchance.”
She waved her hand at the river. "Some sporting chance! And whoever uses worms to catch a

selfrespecting

bass?"
“Youjustwaituntilthenextbassrodeo,pilgrim,”hesaidwithamockingsmile."Andwe'llsee

who

cancatchfish!"
Shegrinnedathim.Thewordplaywasfun.Hewasfun.She'dsmiledandlaughedmorein
thepastfewdaysthaninherwholerecentlife.Guymadeherfeelaliveagain.He'dknockedthe

chipoff

her shoulder about her past and led her into the light. She put down the pole, sighed, and

stretched

lazily.
He watched her covetously. ' 'A woman who likes to fish,“ he mused, ”and who doesn't worry

about

gettingherhandsdirty."
“I like to garden, too,” she remarked. "I used to plant flowers when I lived at home. Nobody

does,

now."
Hepursedhislipsandstaredattheripplesontheriverasitranlazilypastthebanks.Hewas
thinkingaboutflowerbedsandasmallhousetogowiththem,ahousejustbigenoughfortwo

people.

Shelookedupathimwithsoft,warmbrowneyes.“I'vereallyenjoyedbeinghere,”shesaid."I'm
sorryIhavetoleavetomorrow."
Realitycamecrashingdownonhim.Heturnedhisheadandlookedather,andsawAnita'seyes
lookingbackathim.Heblinked.“Youhavetoleave?”
Shenoddedsadly."Ihavetowriteupallthesearticlesandgetbacktomydesk.IexpectI'vegota
month'sworkpiledupthere."
“InDenver.”
“Yes.InDenver.”Shepulledinherlineandputthepoledownbesideher."It'sbeenthemost
wonderfulweekIcanremember.Thankyouforsavingmylife."
Hefrowned.Hewasstaringathisline,buthewasn'tseeingit."Couldn'tyoustayforanother
week?"
“Icouldn'tjustifythetime,”shesaidmiserably."Ican'tjustchuckmyjobanddowhatIplease.I
don'tdependonmymotherformylivelihood,youknow,“sheadded.”Iworkformyliving."
Hewasmoremorosethanhe'dfeltinyears.Hepulledinhisownlineandcurleditaroundthe

pole."I

knowhowthatis,“hesaid.”Iworkformyliving,too."Heturnedhisheadandlookeddownat

her.

Hewantedtoaskhertostay.Hewantedtotellherwhathewasbeginningtofeelforher.Buthe

couldn't

findthewords.
Shesawthehesitationandwonderedaboutit.Hegottohisfeetandgatheredthepolessilently,
placingthembackinthetruck.Heglanceddeliberatelyathiswatch.
“I'vegotanothergroupofcattlemencheckinginatthefeedlotlater,”hesaid,liftinghiseyesto

hers.

“I'dofferyoulunch,butI'mnotgoingtohavetime.”
Shesmiled.“That'sokay.Ienjoyedthefishingtrip.Eventhoughwedidn'tcatchanyfish,”she
added.
Hewishedhecouldmakesomehumorousreply,buthisheartwasheavyandsad.Heputoutthe
campfire,gatheredupthefryingpanandthebottleofvegetableoil,andputevery-thinginthe

truck.

Hedroveherbacktothemotelinsilence,hiswholemannerpreoccupiedandremote.
Shegotoutatthedoortoherroom,hesitatingwiththepassengerdoorofthetruckopen."Idon't
guessyouevergettoDenver?"sheasked.
Heshookhishead.“Notmuchreasonto.”
“AndthisistheonlytimeI'veeverbeentoJacobsville.Iguesstheywon'tsendmeback.”
Hesearchedherfaceandithurthimtoseethesadnessinherdarkeyes.Hewasremembering

Anita

again,hethoughtirritably,rememberinghowithadfelttoloseher.

“It'sbeenfun,”hesaidwithaforcedsmile."I'mgladIgottoknowyou.Keepupwithmat
medicine,"headdedfirmly.
“I'lltakecareofmyself.”Shehesitated.“Youdothesame,”sheaddedgently.
Hehatedtheconcerninhereyes,thesoftnessinhervoice.Hedidn'twanttolovesomeonewho

wasin

suchahurrytoleavehim.
Heleanedoverandclosedthedoor.“Haveasafetriphome,”hesaid.Hethrewupahandand

gunned

thetruckoutoftheparkinglot.
Candystaredafterhim,perplexed.She'dthoughttheywerebuildingtowardsomething,buthe
seemed anxious to get away from her. She bit her lower lip and turned to go into her room.

Amazinghow

wrongherinstinctswerelately,shethoughtassheopenedthedoorandwentinside.Sheseemed

tohave

nojudgmentwhatsoeveraboutmen.
Guy, driving furiously back to the feedlot, was feeling something similar. He couldn't bring

himself

tobeghertostay,afterall.Ifherjobwassoimportant,thenwhowashetostopher?Perhaps

he'dbeen

toohastyandshe
didn'twanthimonanypermanentbasis.Thatmadehimirritable,andthemorehethoughtabout

it,the

morefrustratedhegot.
Byearlyevening,hewasboilingmad.Hehadsupperinthebunkhouseandthendrovehimself

out

of town to the most notorious bar in the county and proceeded to drink himself into

forgetfulness.

He realized the stupidity of it, so he drank more. In no time at all he was bleary-eyed and

spoilingfor

afight.
Cy Parks, usually unsociable and rarely seen around town, had stopped by the joint for a beer

and

sawhim.HehadagoodideawhyGuywasthere,andheknewjustthepersontodosomething

about

thesituation.HewalkedrightbackoutthedooranddrovehimselftothemotelwhereCandywas
staying.
He rapped on the door with his good hand. She came to open it, still wearing jeans and a tank

top,

withherlonghairaroundhershoulders.Shegapedwhensherealizedwhowasstandingather

door.

“Mr.Parks!”sheexclaimed."Didyoucometotellmesomethingelseaboutyouroperation,
forthearticle?"sheasked,voicingthemostlikelyreasonforhispresencehere.
Heshookhishead.“IphonedJustinBallengerfrommycarandaskedwhereyouwerestaying.”

His

black eyes glittered, and not just with impatience. He almost looked amused. "I thought you

mightliketo

knowthatGuyFentonisgettingtankedupatthelocaldive.Helooksinthemoodtobreak
something.Ithoughtyoumightliketotryyourhandatkeepinghimoutofjail."
“Jail?”sheexclaimed.
He nodded. “Rumor is that the sheriff won't give him a second chance if he wrecks the bar

again.”

“Oh,dear,”shemurmured.Shesighed.“Canyoudrivemeoutthere?”
Henoddedagain.“That'swhyIcame.”
Shedidn'thesitate.Sheallbutjumpedintothepassengerseatofhisluxurycarandfastenedher

seat

beltbeforeheclimbedinbehindthewheel.
“Imadehimfly,”shesaidheavily."IhadanasthmaattackattheCaldwellplaceandhehadtoget
mebacktotowninahurry,sohe
hadtoflyMatt'splane.Ibroughtbackallthememoriesofthegirlwhodiedintheplanecrash.

Poor

Guy."
Heglancedather.“Areyousurethat'swhatsenthimouttothebar?”
“Ican'tthinkofanythingelse.”
Hesmiledtohimself.“Justinsaysyoutoldhimyou'llbeleavingtomorrow.”
“That'sright,”shesaidwithresignation."Thebossonlygavemeaweektodothesearticles.I
can'tstayanylonger."
Hedidn'treplytothat.Buthiswholelookwasspeculativeashedrove.Hepulledupatthebar

and

switchedtheengineoff.
“Wantmetogoinwithyou?”heasked.
Sheglancedatthesheersizeofhim,andalmostsaidyes.Helookedtough,andsheknewthat
havingadamagedhandwouldn'tsaveanymanwhochallengedhim.Butitwouldbecowardlyto

take

protectioninwithher,sheconsidered.
“Thanks,butIthinkI'llgoinbymyself,”shesaid.
“I'llwaitouthere,then,”hereplied.“Justincase.”
Shesmiled.“Thanks.”
Shegotoutandwalkedwarilyintothebar.Therewasahush,nothingliketheregularsoundsof
clinkingglassesandconversationandloudmusic.Thebandwassittingquietly.Thecustomers

were

groupedaroundapooltable.Asshewatched,apoolcuecameupandwentdownagainandthere

was

anominouscrackingsound,followedbyathudandalouderbump.
Followingherintuition,shepushedthroughthecrowd.Guywasleaningoveracowboywitha
bleedingnose,bothbigfistscurled,andadangerouslookonhisface.
Shemovedrightuptohim,withouthesitation,andcaughtoneofhisbigfistsinherhands.
Hejerkeduprightandstaredatherasifhewashallucinating.
“Candy?”herasped.
Shenodded.Shesmiledwithmoreself-confidencethanshefelt.“Comeon,Guy.”
She tugged at his fist until it uncurled and grasped her soft hand. She smiled shyly at the

fascinated

audienceandtuggedagain,sothatGuystumbledafterher.
“Don't forget your hat!” a cowboy called, and sailed Guy's wide-brimmed hat toward them.

Candy

caughtit.
Thereweremurmursthatgrewlouderastheymadeittothefrontdoor.
Guytookadeepbreathofnightaironthestepsandalmostkeeledover.Candygotunderhisarm

to

steadyhim.
“MyGod,girl,youshouldn't...behere,”hemanagedtosay,curlinghisarmcloser."Anything
couldhavehappenedtoyouinajointlikethis!"
“Mr.Parkssaidthey'darrestyouifyoubrokeitupagain,”shesaidsimply."Yourescuedme.So
nowI'mrescuingyou."
Hebegantochuckle.“Dotell?”hedrawled."Well,nowthatyou'vegotme,whatareyougoing

to

dowithme?"heaskedinasensuoustone.
' 'If she had any sense, she'd lay a frying pan over your thick skull," Cy Parks muttered. He

moved

CandyoutofthewayandpropelledGuytothecar.Heshovedhimheadfirstintothebackseat

and

slammedthedoorafterhim.
"We'lldrophimoffatthefeedlotandthen
I'lltakeyouhome.Justincansendsomebodyforthetruck."
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Guyaskedbelligerently.“Didshebringyou?”
“Sure,”Cysaidsarcasticallyashecrankedthecarandpulleditoutoftheparkinglotontothe

highway.

“Shedrovemycartomyhouseandtossedmeinandforcedmetocomeafteryou.”
Guyblinked.Thatdidn'tsoundquiteright.
“I'msorryImadeyoufly,”Candysaid,leaningoverthebackseattolookatGuy."Iknowthat

was

whatdidthistoyou."
“What,flying?”hemurmuredinsomeconfusion.Hepushedbacksweatyhair."Hell,no,itwasn't
mat."
“Thenwhatwasit?”sheaskedhesitantly.
“Youwanttogohome,”hesaidheavily.Heleanedbackandclosedhiseyes,oblivioustotherapt
stare of the woman in the front seat. "You want to walk off and leave me. I had a job I was

beginningto

like,butifIcan'thaveyou,Ihavenothingworthgoingonfor."
CyexchangedanamusedglancewithashockedCandy.“Whatifshestayed?”Cy
asked.“WhatgoodisamanwhogetsstinkingdrunkeverySaturdaynight?”
“IfshestayedIwouldn'thaveanyreasontogetdrunkeverySaturdaynight,”Guymuttered
drowsily. “Could get a little house, and she could plant flowers,” he murmured on a yawn. "A

man

wouldworkhimselftodeathforawomanlikeher.Sospecial..."
Hefellasleep.

Candyfeltherhearttrytoclimbrightoutofherbody.“He'sjustdrunk,”sherationalized.
“It'sliketruthserum,”Cyretorted.“Sonowyouknow.”Heglancedather.“Stillleavingtown?”
“Areyoukidding?”sheasked,wide-eyed."Afteraconfessionlikethat?Iamnot!I'mgoingtobe
hisshadowuntilhebuysmearing!"
CyParksactuallythrewbackbisheadandlaughed.
Guycametoinabigbedthatwasn'thisown.Heopenedhiseyesandtherewasaceiling,butit
didn'tlookliketheceilinginthe
bunkhouse.Heheardsoftbreathing.Alsonothisown.
Heturnedhishead,andthere,besidehiminthebedwithjustasheetcoveringher,wasasleeping
Candy Marshall. She was wearing a pink silk gown that covered only certain parts of her

exquisitebody,

andherlongdarkhairwasspreadoverthewhitepillowlikesilk.
He looked down and found that he was still wearing last night's clothing, minus his boots. He

cleared

histhroatandhisheadbegantothrob.
“Oh, boy,” he groaned when he realized what had happened. The question was, how had he

gotten

here,inbedwithCandy?
Shestirred.Hereyesopened,darkvelvet,softandamusedandloving.
“Whatarewedoinghereinbedtogether?”heaskeddazedly.
“Notmuch,”shedrawled.
Hechuckledsoftlyandgrabbedhishead.
“Howaboutsomeaspirinandcoffee?”sheasked.
“Howaboutshootingme?”heofferedasanalternative.
Sheclimbedoutofthebed,gracefulandsensuous,andwenttopluginthecoffeemakerthatwas
provided with the room. She had cups, and she went to her purse and pulled out a bottle of

aspirin.

Before she shook them out, she paused to use the preventative inhalant Dr. Morris had

prescribed.

“Goodgirl,”Guymurmuredhuskily.
Sheglancedathimandsmiled.“Well,IhavetotakecareofmyselfsoIcantakecareofyou.”

She

broughthimtheaspirinandaglassofwater.“Takethose,”shedirected."Andifyouevergointo

a

baragainonSaturdaynight,Ireallywilllayanironskilletacrossyourskull!"
“They'llarrestyouforspousalabuse,”hepointedout.
“Putyourmoneywhereyourmouthis,”shechallenged.
Hechuckledweaklyasheswallowedtheaspirin.“Okay.Willyoumarryme,wartsandall?”
“We'veonlyknowneachotheraweek,”shestated."Youmightnotlikemewhenyougettoknow
me."
“Yes,Iwill.Willyoumarryme?”
Shesmiled.“Sure.”
Helaughedwithpuredelight.“Caretocomedownhereandsealthebargain?”
Shehesitated."No,Idon'tthinkso.You'reindisgrace.Firstyoucangetoverthehangoverand

clean

yourselfupabit."
Hesighed.“IguessIdolookprettyraunchy.”
Shenodded.“Andyoustillsmelllikeabrewery.Bytheway,Idon'tdrink.Never.”
Heheldupahand.“I'vejustreformed.Fromnowonit'scoffee,tea,ormilk.Iswear.”
“Goodman.Inthatcase,wecangetmarriednextweek.BeforeSaturdaynight,”sheaddedwitha
smile.
He opened his eyes wide and studied her with possessiveness. “It wasn't flying at all,” he said

softly.

"Itwaslosingyou.Icouldn'tbearthethoughtthatyouweregoingtogooffandleaveme.But

thistime

thealcoholdidn'twork.I'velostmytasteforbarsandtemporaryoblivion.Ifyou'llmarryme,I

won'tneed

temporaryoblivion.I'llbuildyouahousewhere
youcanplantflowers.“Hisgazedroppeddownoverherslenderbody.”Wecanhavechildren,if

it's

safeforyou."
Shebeamed.“I'dlikethat.”
“Itmightberisky.”
“We'llgoaskDr.Morris,”sheassuredhim."SinceI'mgoingtobelivinginJacobsville,hecan

be

mydoctor."
Hejuststaredather,hisheartinhiseyes.“Ididn'tknowitcouldhappenlikethis,”hesaidaloud.

"I

thoughtlovediedandwasburied.Itisn't."
Shesmiledbrilliantly.“Ineverevenknewwhatitwas.Untilnow.”
Heopenedhisarmsandshewentdownintothem,andtheylayforalongtimejustholdingeach

other

tightlyinthesharedwonderofloving.
Heliftedhisheadfinallyandlookeddownatthetreasureinhisarms."Isuppose,ifyouwantto,I
cangobacktomyaircargocompanyandrunit."
“Doyouwantto?”
Hethoughtaboutthatforaminutebeforeheansweredher.“Notreally,”hesaidfinally.
"It was a part of my life that I enjoyed at the time, but there will always be bad memories

connected

withit.“Heputhishandoverherlipswhenshestartedtospeak.”I'mnotstillgrievingforAnita,"

he

addedquietly."I'llalwaysmissheralittle,andregretthewayshedied.ButIdidn'tburymyheart
withher.Iwantyouandafamilyandahomeofourown.Ienjoymanagingthefeedlot.Inmany

ways,

it's a challenge.“ He grinned. ”And if you'd take over publicity for the local cattlemen's

association,we'd

havealotmoreincommon."
Shebeamed.“Wouldtheyletme?”
“They'dbegyou!”hereplied."PooroldMrs.Harrisonisdoingitrightnow,andshehatesevery
wordshewrites.She'llmakeyoucakesandpiesifyou'lltakeitoffherhands."

“Inthatcase,Imightenjoyit,”shereplied.
“And we'd get to work together,” he murmured, bending to kiss her gently. He lifted his head.

"Oh,

Candy,whatdidIeverdotodeservesomeonelikeyou?“heaskedhuskily.”Idoloveyouso!"
Shepulledhimdowntoher.“Iloveyou,too.”
Neitherofthemquestionedhowlovecouldstrikesosuddenly.Theygotmarriedandspenttheir
honeymoon in Galveston, going for long walks on the beach and lying in each others' arms

enjoyingthe

newnessoflovingineverypossibleway.
“My mother wants us to come and visit her when we're back from our honeymoon,” she

mentionedto

Guy after a long, sweet morning of shared ecstasy. She curled closer to him under the single

sheetthat

coveredthem.“Shesaidshehopedwe'dbehappy.”
“Wewillbe,”hemused,strokingherlonghairwithagentlehand.“Doyouwanttogo?”
“Ithinkit'stimeImademypeacewithher,”shereplied."MaybeI'vebeenasguiltyasshehasof
livinginthepast.Notanymore,"sheadded,lookingupathimwithlovebrimmingoverinher

eyes.

“Marriageisfun,”shesaidwithawickedgrin.
“Isit,now?”Hethrewoffthesheetandrolledoverontoherwithachuckle.“Wasthatahint?”he
whisperedashebegantokissher.
Sheslidagainsthimwithdelightandwrappedasoftlonglegaroundhismuscular
one.“Ablatanthint,”sheagreed,gaspingashetouchedhergentlyandhismouthsettledonher

parted

lips.
“Anythingtooblige,”hewhisperedhuskily.
Shelaughedandgasped,andthenclungtohimasthelazyrhythmmadespiralsofecstasyripple

the

lengthofherbody.Sheclosedhereyesandgaveintothepleasure.Love,shethoughtwhileshe
could,wasthemostindescribableofshareddelights.
Outside the window, waves crashed on the beach and seagulls dived and cried in the early-

morning

sunlight.Somewhereontheboundaryofhersenses,Candyheardthem,butshewassocloseto

heaven

thatthesoundbarelyregistered.
Whenthestormydelightpassed,sheheldanexhaustedGuytoherheartandthoughtofflower
gardensinafuturethatwassuddenlysweetandfullofjoy.Sheclosedhereyesandsmiledasshe
dreamed.
Guy felt her body go lax. He looked down at her sleeping face with an expression that would

have

broughttearstohereyes.Froma
nightmaretothis,hewasthinking.Candyhadmadehimwholeagain.She'dchasedawaytheguilt

ofthe

past, and the grief, and offered him a new heart to cherish. He knew without a doubt that his

drinking

dayswereover.Candywouldmakehishappiness,andhe'dmakehers.
Hesettledbackdownbesideheranddrewthesheetoverthemboth.Inhismind,beforehefell
asleep,hewasalreadyworkingonplansformatsmallhousewhereheandCandywouldshare

their

lives.

TableofContents

Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5

TableofContents

Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5

TableofContents

Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5