Reunited with the Cowboy. Carolyne Aarsen

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      His features were even, well proportioned. His narrow nose, angled cheekbones and strong chin with the faintest hint of scruff all combined in perfect harmony. Even his tousled blond hair added to the look of a man who commanded attention everywhere he went.

      Aware of her scrutiny, he sent a puzzled glance her way. “What’s wrong?”

      She laughed. “Nothing. I was just thinking you’d make a good model.”

      His eyes narrowed. “That’s not the kind of life I’d like.”

      The harsh note in his voice seemed like another reprimand of her previous lifestyle.

      Modeling had made her a lot of money, but had also brought her a lot of grief. It had created a false sense of what had value and what didn’t. And from the frown on John’s face, it had caused an even larger chasm between them.

      “It isn’t for everyone,” she admitted quietly.

      “Did you enjoy it? Modeling?”

      She easily heard his unspoken questions.

       Why did you quit college? Why did you choose Mitch over me?

      “I don’t think I would have chosen that career if it wasn’t for Mitch,” Heather responded, trying not to sound defensive.

      “He got you your first job, didn’t he?”

      She gave a curt nod, remembering too well Mitch’s promises of big money that had made her quit college when things got hard. And the money had come those first few years. She had been able to repay the Bannisters the sum they had put up for her college expenses, which had made her feel she’d repaid her debt to them. But even as she’d experienced some success, it all came to a crashing halt when Mitch had made some bad investments. The first thing he lost was the fancy apartment, the second, his control over his temper.

      Regret, Heather’s constant companion, shivered through her.

      “I was sorry to hear about your divorce,” John said. “I’m sure...it’s been hard.”

      “It’s okay. I’m over the worst of it,” she told him, with a careful shrug.

      Which was a lie, she thought, unable to keep herself from glancing at Adana again. Heather had thought she was over the worst, until she saw John and his perfect little girl—both stark reminders of what she had given up to seek a life she’d thought she’d wanted.

      She looked ahead, drawing on old survival skills, tricks she’d learned to get through whatever faced her.

      You’re on your own, Heather, she reminded herself. Only you can take care of you.

      * * *

      “Thanks for bringing our girl home,” Monty said, taking one of Heather’s suitcases from John as he stepped off the back of his truck. “How badly is Heather’s car damaged?”

      “Not sure. Dwayne said he would tell Alan to call you and let you know,” John said as he set a second suitcase on the ground. “But from what I could see, the front end was badly dented up and the tires had come off the rims.”

      Monty frowned as he digested that information. “Well, we’re glad she’s okay.”

      John nodded, then glanced past him to where Heather stood, hugging her sister. The lights from the ranch house spilled out, casting them in stark relief.

      Ellen stood to one side, her arm around Heather’s shoulder, her neck brace preventing her from doing more than that.

      When the two girls drew apart, Heather kissed her mom carefully on the cheek. Then John saw Ellen gently wipe her adopted daughter’s face, her own features looking pained. “Oh, baby girl,” he heard her say. “We missed you so much.”

      “I missed you, too.” The broken note in Heather’s voice troubled him. She had never been one to share her emotions. To see her so vulnerable created a push-pull of tangled emotions. He shook his head, then turned back to Monty.

      “I better get going. Adana is still sleeping, but she’s probably hungry. Never did make it to Saddlebank for dinner with Kim and Rex.” His in-laws were leaving on a cruise and had hoped to see him and Adana before they left tomorrow. It was too late to go back now.

      “Would you like to join us?” Ellen asked.

      Heather’s head swung toward him the same time he looked her way. It wasn’t too hard to see the alarm on her features. Seemed as if she was as anxious about spending time with him as he was with her.

      “It’s okay,” he said, holding up a gloved hand. “I’m sure you have lots to catch up on with Heather. I don’t want to impose.”

      “Oh, since when are you imposing?” Ellen protested. “You eat here plenty.”

      “And that’s why I should let you have some time alone.” Sitting with Heather in the truck had been harder than he wanted to admit to himself. She was part of his youth, his past. She’d only ever been his girlfriend, unlike Sandy, who had been his wife.

      “Thank you for that,” Monty said. He leveled John a steady look, and behind that gaze John sensed an unspoken question.

      Was Heather’s presence going to cause a problem?

      Monty had always been very protective of Heather, a legacy of her troubled past, most likely, and John had always tried to tread carefully where she was concerned. That’s why, back in high school, he had waited to date her. That Mitch had beat him to it was poor luck and bad timing. However, when John had finally worked up the nerve to ask her out, it was with fear and trepidation of what Monty would think. Whether he was worthy enough to date the boss’s daughter. But once he did, he and Heather had fallen hard for each other. And started making plans.

      He had always wondered if the Bannisters had encouraged Heather to go to college precisely to forestall their plans.

      Adana’s wails from the truck reminded him of his other obligations. His main priority.

      “I better get her back to the house,” he said, taking a step away.

      He caught Monty’s nod of approval, and as he walked to the truck John found he had to stifle his frustration. Did Monty still see him only as the foreman’s son?

      But in spite of his feelings, in spite of their time apart, he couldn’t help glancing back at Heather.

      Their eyes met and held, John feeling the too-familiar ache in his heart.

      He shook it off, turning his attention to Adana. He had his little girl to think of and she needed security and stability in her life.

      Heather represented anything but that.

      * * *

      “Got clean tights, diapers, sippy cup, pacifier.” John marked off the checklist as he went through the diaper bag. Though his home wasn’t that far from the main ranch house, he always liked to make sure Adana had enough provisions for the day.

      “Want СКАЧАТЬ