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COWBOY
COMES BACK

JEANNIE WATT

THE COWBOY’S
CONVENIENT BRIDE

WENDY WARREN

www.millsandboon.co.uk

COWBOY
COMES BACK

JEANNIE WATT

About the Author

JEANNIE WATT lives with her husband in an isolated area of northern Nevada, and teaches junior-high science in a town forty miles from her home. She lives off the grid in the heart of ranch country and considers the battery-operated laptop to be one of the greatest inventions ever. When she is not writing, Jeannie likes to paint, sew and feed her menagerie of horses, ponies, dogs and cats. She has degrees in geology and education.

I’ve never met an Ellen I haven’t liked. In fact,

one of the Ellens I like very much mentioned that

Ellens in fiction are always nice friends or neighbors.

Never villains. I decided to employ the rule of opposites

and do something about that.

This book is dedicated to all the nice Ellens in

my life—fellow Superromance author Ellen Hartman,

fellow teacher Ellen Too, and my former high-school

classmate and college roommate, with whom I threw

vanilla wafers at the neighbor’s window,

Ellen Swanson.

Dear Reader,

Imagine what it would be like to have the most important person to you, your soul mate, betray you. This is what happened to Libby Hale when her childhood friend and fiancé, Kade Danning, left her to marry another woman. Libby is not the forgiving kind, so she has no intention of renewing any kind of relationship with Kade when he comes back, divorced and in the process of rebuilding his life, ten years later. Unfortunately for her, kade has other plans.

Libby was first featured in The Cowboy’s Redemption as the hero’s best friend. She was an irreverent, straight talking, no-nonsense woman, and so much fun to write that I knew I had to explore her character further. Thus Cowboy Comes Back was born, a story of second chances—for a man, a woman and a horse.

I love to hear from readers. Please e-mail me at jeanniewrites@gmail.com or visit my website at www. jeanniewatt.com.

Happy reading,

Jeannie Watt

CHAPTER ONE

ROUGH OUT JEANS. RIDE with the Best.

Until you screw up, that is.

Kade Danning grimaced as he walked past his own self-assured face smiling from an old advertisement still tacked outside the local feed co-op. Sort of a Kade Danning memorial. Damn, but he’d been cocky back then.

Well, he wasn’t feeling so cocky now. And he wouldn’t be posing for photos or endorsing jeans again anytime in the near future. Nope. He’d screwed up that deal royally.

Only one pickup sat in the parking lot—a fancy, shiny red one with duallies and running lights. So there was a chance the store would be empty soon. Good. He wanted to talk to Zero Benson alone.

Earlier that day, he’d driven the fifty miles from Otto, Nevada, to the larger town of Wesley, where he’d dropped off an application at the personnel office of the Lone Eagle Mine. He’d also put in a general application at the Wesley employment office and then, on the way home, he’d decided to stop at the feed store. Zero would know of any ranch work that might see him through until he was able to find something more permanent.

Zero was standing behind the barn-wood counter when Kade walked into the store, deep in conversation with a man Kade didn’t know—a money guy, from the looks of it. Creased Wranglers, neat white shirt, neat white mustache. His hat alone would pay for the new fridge Kade had a feeling he’d need to buy to replace the monstrosity in his father’s house.

Neither man had noticed his arrival, so Kade hung about at the back of the store, near the racks of halters and bridles, scanning the want ads tacked to the wall while he waited for the conversation to end. Horses for sale. Tractor services. Shoeing. Nothing in the Help Wanted.

“Have you tried his brother?” Zero asked the guy.

“I don’t like his brother,” the man stated adamantly.

“Then I don’t know what—” Kade glanced up when Zero abruptly stopped speaking, and he saw the older man’s mouth gape open. “Well, hell’s bells!” Zero said, lumbering out from behind the counter and sidestepping a pallet of feed bags. “Kade. How are you?”

“Good,” Kade lied. Zero’s face was rounder and more wind-burned than the last time he’d seen him ten years ago, but other than that, his former part-time employer looked the same. He might even have been wearing the same overalls and flannel shirt.

“So are you back or just visiting?” Zero asked, clapping Kade hard on the shoulder.

“I’m working on my dad’s house, getting it ready to sell.”

The man with the white mustache frowned at Kade, obviously trying to place him.

“This is Kade Danning,” Zero explained to the man. “Kade, Joe Barton. Mr. Barton bought the Boggy Flat ranch last year.”

“Zephyr Valley ranch,” Barton corrected him.

Zero made a hoity-toity face. “Like he said. Hey, you want a job?”

Kade’s stomach dropped. Was it that obvious? Had Zero heard things that Kade hoped weren’t common knowledge? The IRS trouble had been much publicized, but he’d tried to keep the fact that he was dead broke to himself. “I, uh …”

“Mr. Barton has some colts to start and he can’t get ‘em in to Will Bishop.”

Joe Barton appeared none too thrilled at Zero’s suggestion. “Zero—”

Kade jumped in to save them both further embarrassment. He’d forgotten Zero’s habit of saying whatever popped into his mind. “Can’t,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m going to be busy working on the place. I want it on the market by the end of June and my daughter’s coming in July, so … sorry.”

And then he beat it out of there. He’d come back later or call to see if Zero had heard of any ranch work—preferably not on the Barton spread, since Barton hadn’t seemed all that impressed with him. But the guy had to be loaded if he’d bought the Boggy Flat. The ranch was huge.

“Don’t you know who that was?” he heard Zero ask as he escaped through the open door.

Was. The word summed up Kade’s life well.

LIBBY HALE CURSED under her breath as she drove by the Danning ranch early Friday morning and saw that the yard lights were on again.

As if she didn’t have enough trouble in her life without Kade showing up.

But she would not let his presence get to her. He wasn’t the reason she was having trouble sleeping.

The road from Otto to Wesley was a straight shot through the desert to the northeast, over one mountain range and then down into the adjoining sage-covered valley. Libby drove it at least four times a week, sometimes five, depending on the length of her workdays. Usually she traveled on autopilot, planning her schedule, but today she focused on the road, refusing to think about anything but her driving.

There was one car in the Bureau of Land Management parking lot when Libby pulled in. Ellen Vargas’s highly polished Lexus SUV. Libby parked at the opposite end of the lot and sat for a moment, staring at her boss’s Lexus and wondering how long it would be before she came to work and the damned thing wouldn’t be there.

It was no secret that Ellen Vargas would move on as soon as she could, following an upwardly mobile career track in government. Libby only hoped Ellen didn’t do too much damage before that happened.

The building was dimly lit when Libby walked in, since Francine, the receptionist, wasn’t at work yet. The only bright light spilled out of Ellen’s open office door. Libby would have loved to tiptoe by, but it wasn’t her style, so she said, “Morning,” as she passed on the way to her office.

“Good morning, Libby. Do you have a minute?”

Wonderful.

Libby reversed course and stepped into Ellen’s office. When Glen had been there, the manager’s office had been pleasantly cluttered. Now it looked like a page out of House Beautiful. A vase with a single exotic flower stood on the corner of the government-issue desk, making Libby wonder where on earth Ellen had managed to find an orchid in Wesley—if it was, indeed, a real orchid and not a silk replica. But if it was a silk replica, it was very realistic…. Libby had an urge to poke at it, to see if it was genuine, but she didn’t think Ellen would appreciate that. Maybe she’d come back later, while her boss was mustering the troops.

“How long have you been a wild horse specialist, Libby?”

Ellen already knew the answer, just as she knew everything about everyone who worked for her. She’d done her homework. But since she asked, Libby answered, thus demonstrating that she was a team player, cooperative, responsive and accountable.

“Three years.”

“And before that you were a range conservationist?”

“Yes.” She’d hired on as a range con, never suspecting that the wild horse position—her dream job—would open up four years later, right when she was poised to slip into the position. Sometimes things did fall into place.

“You seem to enjoy your work.”

“Yes.”

She would also enjoy it if Ellen got to the point. The woman’s highly polished gold-rimmed glasses glinted as she tilted her head slightly. Behind the glasses her eyes were perfectly made-up. Liner, shadow, mascara. How was it that she could apply cosmetics so well, so early in the morning? Libby could barely see when she got up, much less apply eyeliner with precision. And she could only imagine what she’d have to go through to make her long curly hair approach Ellen’s blond lacquered perfection.

“I’ve skimmed the past few years’ records and—” Ellen tapped her pencil on the desk “—I don’t understand the procedure with these animals that people gain title to months after the official adoption period has passed.”

“Those are the leppies.”

The glasses slid down Ellen’s nose a fraction of an inch as she dropped her chin. “The leppies?”

“Orphans.”

“I see.”

But she didn’t see—it was obvious. And she would be looking into the matter—equally obvious. This was what happened when people from Florida were put in charge of operations in the Nevada desert and vice versa—there was a huge learning curve and an enhanced propensity for poor decision making. When Ellen’s ego was factored in … Oh, yes. This was going to be a fine year.

“There are people who will take in orphans caught in the gathers and care for them. In return they get title to the foals once they’re old enough to freeze-brand.”

“And they pay nothing.”

“Do you have any idea what mare-milk replacer costs?”

“Is this common practice?”

“It is here.”

Ellen inhaled in a way that indicated perhaps she’d heard those words too often since she’d come to work in the Wesley field office. “All right. Thank you for explaining. We’ll meet again more formally after I’ve had a chance to go over all the files.”

“Just tell me when.” Libby patted the door frame and then escaped. “Sheesh,” she muttered as she unlocked the office she shared with Stephen, the range con who’d taken her place when she became a wild horse specialist.

She sat at her desk without bothering to turn on the lights and stared at the blank computer screen, surprised to realize that even though she should have been steaming after the conversation with Ellen, she was wondering, instead, just how long Kade would be in Otto. How long it’d be until she ran into him. And why she, who generally welcomed confrontation, didn’t feel quite ready for that day.

KADE STEPPED OUT of the living quarters of his horse trailer, which was parked next to the ancient stone barn, and started across the weed-choked driveway to the house. Three nights on the property and he still couldn’t bring himself to sleep in his old bed. He didn’t know if he ever would.

The sun was barely over the mountains and he had a full day ahead of him in the house he hated. But it was also his daughter’s ninth birthday, so at least he could end the day on a positive note by calling her and seeing how she liked the present he’d mailed a few days ago.

He crossed the weathered porch, which echoed under his boots, and opened the kitchen door. Then he stood for a moment, one hand on the worn doorjamb as he steeled himself for the day ahead, taking in the scarred tile floor and the decrepit kitchen appliances. The big enamel sink, where he’d washed a million dishes while his father yelled at him. The fridge that contained who knew what.

No one had come in to clean after his father had died. There’d been no funeral, no memorial, no will. And since the property had been in legal limbo at the time, Kade had made the final arrangements over the phone. It had seemed cold, but it was what his father had wanted. No funeral. No contact with his son.

Even when Kade had become a world champion bronc rider, his father had wanted nothing to do with him. And now Kade wanted nothing to do with anything that reminded him of his father—including his father’s ranch.

But he had tons of work ahead of him before he could sell. As Marvin the Realtor had pointed out when Kade had first contacted him, ramshackle houses, sagging fences and weedy pastures were not all that easy to market. Marvin might be new in the real-estate business, but he recognized the obvious.

Kade stepped into the kitchen. Number one, the fridge, which he’d avoided for the first few days while he’d concentrated on the other rooms. One look inside and he resigned himself to buying a new one. Not only was the appliance more than twenty years old, it was filled with an assortment of overgrown and dried-up … stuff that definitely qualified as biohazards. He shut the door, considered duct-taping it shut so that whatever was inside wouldn’t come creeping out during the night, and made arrangements over the phone for a new one.

By the time he was done, his gut was at boot level, but Marvin had also said that showing a house without decent appliances was not a smart idea. Trouble was, right now he didn’t have a lot of money. And what he did have was dwindling fast.

Zero had promised to call if he heard of any work, when Kade had finally gotten hold of him the night before, but there was nothing at the moment. It was kind of the way Kade’s luck had been running for the past five or six years, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Cleaning went better while he was focused on his lack of finances. The memories didn’t bite at him every time he opened a door or found something that reminded him of his teen years. He still hadn’t ventured into his dad’s room, but he’d pretty well gutted the living room and kitchen. He had his dad’s stock trailer loaded with stuff that he would take to the dump or to Goodwill. He didn’t want any reminders. He just hoped the tires on the trailer held out, because he didn’t want to replace them.

Kade finally left the house, exhausted, at six o’clock for his dump run. But he waited until eight to call his daughter, as per his ex-wife Jillian’s instructions—after Maddie’s birthday party, before bedtime.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said when she came on the phone, and as usual Kade felt a pull deep in his chest at the sound of her voice. “Let me tell you everything that’s been happening….”

Kade smiled and settled back in the lawn chair next to his horse trailer, propping his feet on the fender. “Shoot, kid.”

Maddie prattled on for at least five minutes, ending with, “And then Mike took us to the game, and after that, pizza.”

“Sounds excellent.”

“It was the best birthday ever,” Maddie concluded. “I wish you could have been here,” she added, but it sounded like a polite afterthought.

“Me, too.” Jillian and Mike had been married for two years. They had year-old twins Maddie adored, and they were raising Maddie in a much more stable home than the one he’d provided, being on the road with the rodeo for a good part of the year.

Which was the problem. Jillian was overcompensating for that earlier unpredictability by insisting that every aspect of Maddie’s life had to be stable. Therefore, she didn’t want Maddie visiting Kade for the two months he was supposed to have her during the summer. It hadn’t been such a problem when they’d all lived in Boise, but once Jillian and Mike had moved to Elko a year ago, it had become an issue.

“It’ll upset her routine. She has softball and dance….” Jillian hadn’t come out and said it, but Kade knew she wished he would disappear so that Maddie would have only one father—Mike.

“I’m going to horse camp this summer,” Maddie announced. “It’s my big present from Mike and Mom. Camp lasts for almost a whole month! Three and a half weeks!”

Kade felt his jaw tighten. “What month is that?”

“July.”

Which would make her two-month summer visit with him difficult, if not impossible. He wondered when Jillian had planned to break the news to him. And why it was all right for Maddie to be at a camp with strangers for three and a half weeks, but not with her own father.

“It’s in Boise,” Maddie continued, “so Grandma will be close in case I get homesick. And Shandy may be able to go, too!”

“Sounds cool.” Kade had tried to sound sincere.

“I really like the necklace you sent me.” Maddie happily jumped topics.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Mom says I have to save it for good.”

“I want you to wear it, Maddie.” He tried not to contradict Jillian, figuring it was important that his daughter not sense hostility between the two of them, but this was getting ridiculous. Oh, yes. He and Jillian would be talking soon. “That’s why I bought it.”

“Okay. I’ll ask Mom if I can have it back. She’s keeping it safe for me.”

Kade decided to change the subject before he exploded. “I’m getting another horse.”

“Really? I hated it when you sold Blaze….”

Kade and Maddie talked about horses for several minutes more, the one love they shared that Jillian didn’t butt into, and then he heard Jillian announce it was bedtime.

“You better go, kiddo.”

“Yeah. Thanks for calling, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The line clicked dead before he could say goodbye. Kade hung up feeling depressed. His daughter was growing up fast. So fast he was afraid that before he got his act together she’d be gone. And if Jillian had her way he’d never really get to be part of her life, just the bearer of gifts on her birthday and at Christmas. That wasn’t the role he wanted—or deserved.

The only times he hadn’t been part of Maddie’s life were when he’d been on the road rodeoing and making a living, and during the dark months after Jillian had left him, when he’d started drinking too much and messing up his life. Other than that, he’d been there, trying his best to do things right, to be a decent dad.

Hell, he was a decent dad—stellar by comparison to his own father. He walked over to the door of the trailer and stared out across the field at Libby’s place. He’d given up a lot to be a dad, but it was a sacrifice he’d had to make. He’d screwed up and he’d had to do the right thing.

His only regret was Libby.

CHAPTER TWO

THE MORE TIME KADE spent trying to fix the house, the more things he found wrong with it. Cracked moldings, saggy hinges, leaky plumbing, holes in the walls. Problems he needed to remedy if he wanted to hook a buyer for the property. He was on his second trip to the hardware store that day, trying to find a coupling for repairing the bathroom sink and knowing full well he’d probably discover some other part he needed, just as soon as he got home. Plumbing was like that.

“I heard you were back.” Startled, Kade looked up to see Jason Ross standing a few feet away, next to some big rolls of copper tubing. From his dark expression, it was clear Jason wasn’t there to welcome Kade.

“Hey, Jason. How are you?” Once upon a time they’d been friends, had ridden rodeo together in high school, but Jason didn’t appear to be all that friendly now. His lean face was set in harsh, unfamiliar lines.

“I’m good,” Jason said flatly. “Fixing up your dad’s place?”

“Hoping to get it on the market by the end of next month.” Kade shifted his weight as he spoke and waited for what had to be coming. There was a stretch of uncomfortable silence and then Jason finally got to the point.

“Have you seen Libby?”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe it’d be best if you didn’t.”

Direct. Very Jason-like. And uncalled-for.

“I don’t think you have a lot of say in the matter,” Kade said, twisting the PVC coupling he was holding in his hands.

Jason glanced behind him to see if anyone was within hearing range before he turned back and said, “I’m her friend, so yeah, I do have a say. You don’t need to shove your way back into her life. You did enough damage the last time.”

“If I want to see Libby, I’ll damned well see her.” Kade spoke slowly and deliberately. He wasn’t about to clear what he did or didn’t do with Jason. “And believe it or not, hurting Libby was the last thing I ever wanted to do.”

“You failed,” Jason said shortly. He gave a curt nod, then turned and headed back the way he’d come. Conversation over. Warning delivered.

Kade watched his former friend disappear around the end of the aisle before attempting to turn his thoughts back to plumbing. But it was damned hard to concentrate with adrenaline pumping through him.

He glanced at his watch. He had to drive to Elko to pick up Maddie for their weekend together and if he didn’t get going, he’d be late. Another black mark against him in Jillian’s book. As it was, she would act as if she were sending her baby into a war zone or somewhere equally dangerous when she handed Maddie over, and Kade would try not to react since Maddie was so observant. He didn’t want her picking up more bad parental vibes. The divorce had been hard on her and it wasn’t until Mike had come into the picture that Maddie had settled—possibly because Jillian was finally happy.

Kade’s cell phone rang as he walked to the truck with a bag of plumbing parts that he hoped would cover all eventualities. He waited until he’d unlocked the door to answer, catching the call on the sixth ring, just before it went into voice mail.

“Kade. I think I may have something.” Sheri Mason sounded excited.

Kade frowned. “What do you mean, have something? You aren’t supposed to be looking for anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s not definite, but Rough Out is talking about a campaign with an indestructibility theme. You know—no matter what you do to them, how much you beat them up, these jeans can take it. And they want big-name veteran rodeo stars. Guys who have been beat up but keep on going. You fit the bill.”

“I’m unreliable.” Which was why Rough Out had fired him in the first place. Apparently they wanted their spokesman to be sober and show up for work.

“And I’m good. I think we have a shot at this.”

Kade couldn’t handle another yo-yo experience. The old yes, they want you … no, they don’t. He’d had his hopes dashed a few too many times of late.

“Tell you what, Sheri. You do what you think is best here. If you want to pursue this, great, but I’m telling you not to waste your time if you think this is a waste of time.”

“Sweetheart, if I thought you were a waste of time I would have stopped being your agent when I stopped dating you. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Don’t.” Kade spoke before thinking. But it was the truth. “Just tell me if I make the short list, all right?”

“You got it. Bye, love.”

Kade flipped the phone shut and stuck it in his pocket.

“AND THEN KADE told Jason he could do as he damned well pleased where Libby was concerned. I was right on the other side of the aisle weighing nails. I heard him.”

“Well, don’t announce it to the world, you fool. That could affect the odds.”

The men’s voices were loud enough to be heard at the door when Libby opened it, but they fell silent as soon as she stepped inside the almost empty bar and waited a moment for her eyes to adjust. She found it amazing that anyone was in a bar at 7:00 a.m., but Nevada was a twenty-four-hour state and some people had developed unusual circadian cycles. The only reason she was there at such a ridiculous hour was that she’d picked up a package at the Wesley post office as a favor to the owner and was delivering it on her way to do her Saturday-morning shopping.

Libby set her jaw and went up to the bar. It was dumb to let the dealings of two morons upset her, since nothing happened in Otto without a flurry of betting amongst the local ne’er-do-wells. Marriage, divorce, weight loss. Everything that happened had a few bucks riding on it. Libby was not the betting kind and generally ignored such activity. But she’d never been the subject of it before.

“So, what are the odds?” she asked Julie, the bartender, setting down the box she carried.

“For which bet?” Julie idly pushed the lank brown hair that had escaped her up-do away from her face.

“Which bet?” Libby did her best not to look outraged. She normally didn’t become outraged unless she was dealing with bureaucracy or fuel prices. “How many are there?”

Julie shrugged her thin shoulders, making her tank top slide off to one side, before reciting in a monotone, “Rekindled romance, eight to one. One night of passion, even money.”

Libby’s eyes widened still more.

“And I’m betting against one-night stand, so if you do have one—” Julie made a please-cooperate face as she pulled her top back into place “—don’t tell anyone. Okay?”

Libby slapped her palm on the bar, then headed for the door. She had had enough.

Kade would do as he damned well pleased where she was concerned? She’d see about that.

Libby felt remarkably calm as she got into her truck and drove to Kade’s ranch. They were about to get a few things straight, she and Kade. It was time to meet face-to-face. Get it over with, rather than dying a thousand deaths wondering when she was going to bump into him. Libby wasn’t one to avoid confrontation, but she’d been avoiding this one, which made her feel weak. Time to change that.

Kade’s truck was parked under a scraggly tree at the edge of the yard, but Libby somehow knew the house was empty before her knuckles touched the rough wood of the kitchen door. No one answered, so she peered through the curtainless window in the door. The kitchen was empty—the fridge was gone, the counters were bare and the table and chairs were nowhere in sight.

“Lib—”

She almost had a heart attack when Kade spoke from behind her. She whirled around, angry at her reaction and ready to take it out on him, fair or not. But she hadn’t counted on the impact of seeing him standing there, tall and lean. The same, yet different. And still as sexy as hell, if one went by appearances alone.

He had a bad case of bed head, his wheat-colored hair sticking out in several directions, and a thick growth of stubble on his chin and jaw—which seemed even more chiseled than before. Standing barefoot on the gravel, he rubbed one hand self-consciously over his head as he apparently waited for her to say something.

When she didn’t speak, mainly because she was fighting back memories triggered by his disheveled appearance, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

She looked him up and down, collecting herself, taking refuge in anger once again. Much safer there. “Where’d you come from?”

He pointed at his horse trailer. “I don’t sleep in the house.” He was more muscular than he’d been ten years ago, and there was a new scar on the side of his face, curving close to his left eyebrow. Probably the result of that bronc stomping him just before he’d won his second world title. Libby had read about it in the papers and had been bitter enough at the time to have rooted for the horse.

“Daddy?”

Libby’s eyes jerked toward the trailer in time to see a girl with a mop of tousled blond hair poke her head out the door.

“It’s just a friend, Maddie. I’ll be back in a minute.”

But the girl had already jumped to the ground and was heading toward them, the silvery shapes on her pink pajamas glinting in the early sun.

This is the child. Kade’s child. The reason Libby had discovered that he’d been sleeping with someone else while she’d been hundreds of miles away, working on her degree. The girl came closer and hugged Kade’s waist, staring at Libby as she leaned against her father.

Reality sucked. It really did. Libby liked it better when the kid was just some faceless entity, not a flesh-and-blood little girl with Kade’s hazel eyes.

“This is Madison,” Kade said, and it was easy to see that he did not want Libby to do anything to upset his daughter. As if she would—it wasn’t the kid’s fault that Kade couldn’t keep his fly zipped. Libby forced the corners of her mouth up when all she really wanted to do was escape. “Hi, Madison.”

“Hi,” the girl said, obviously as curious as Libby was uncomfortable. “You can call me Maddie. All Dad’s friends do.”

Libby didn’t know how to deal with this. None of her combative strategies applied here, and this was obviously not the time to do battle.

“I’ve got to go,” she said, brushing past Kade and his daughter, not caring what either of them thought. She needed to regroup.

Libby couldn’t remember the last time she’d turned tail and run. Even when Kade had come to her to confess that he’d gotten a woman pregnant and had to do the right thing, she’d held her ground—mainly out of shock, but she’d held it. Kade had been the one to leave.

She was startled when Kade caught up with her as she reached the bumper of her truck.

“Why’d you come, Lib?”

She glanced over his shoulder to see his daughter mounting the steps to the trailer, shooting one last curious glance their way before disappearing inside.

I came because I wanted to get this reunion over with and move on. I wanted to prove to myself that I’ve been losing sleep over nothing.

But the words wouldn’t come. So she hedged.

“They’re taking bets about us at the bar.”

“Of course they are. You must have known that would happen.”

“Listen, Kade. I live a quiet life now. I don’t like to be stared at or gossiped about.” She managed to hold his gaze as she spoke.

“Since when? You’ve never cared what anyone thought.”

So much for hedging. “I cared what you thought, for all the good it did me.”

“I wanted to get married,” he said in a voice so low it was almost a growl. “You were the one who demanded more time. You were the one who said we should make sure before we took the big step.”

“I didn’t think you’d be sleeping with other women, or raising families with them.”

“It happened. I wasn’t going to walk out on her.”

Her. Libby was surprised that she felt a stab of jealousy. She tilted her head back. “You did the right thing. For her.”

“I had no choice.”

“No,” she admitted, “you didn’t.” He couldn’t have come back to her when he was having a baby with someone else. She wouldn’t have had him back.

“I still don’t know why you’re here,” he said.

“You want to know why I’m here? Because, regardless of what you think, I don’t appreciate being bet on and talked about. I’d prefer not to have people watching us to see what’s going to happen next, like we’re some kind of reality show.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked with a perplexed scowl.

“You told Jason you’d do as you damned well pleased where I’m concerned.”

Kade hooked his thumb in his belt and regarded her for another long moment. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounds.”

“Well, it’s what someone heard and it’s affecting the odds.”

“Libby …”

The way he said her name sent a small tingle through her body. And it pissed her off. “Just keep your distance and I’ll keep mine. I think you owe me that much, Kade.” She opened the truck door, putting a barrier between them. “It was nice to meet your daughter.”

Libby got in and turned the key, throwing the truck into Reverse almost as soon as the engine fired and leaving Kade standing in the driveway.

Talk about plans being derailed. She’d come on the offensive and had left on the retreat. That wasn’t the way she normally did things, but it was the way she’d done them today.

And she didn’t know why.

Libby slowed as she approached a corner. No, she did know why, and it was more than the kid being there. Seeing Kade had thrown her completely off-kilter. No matter how many times she’d told herself that she’d moved on over the past few years, it was obvious now that she’d been wrong.

She was still pissed off at Kade. And she still hated him for what he’d done.

“WHO’S THAT LADY, DAD?” Maddie asked as soon as Kade opened the trailer door.

Try as he might, Kade couldn’t say “no one.”

“We grew up together,” he said as he shut the door behind him. He glanced into the mirror that was visible through the door of the small bathroom and he grimaced. He looked like a derelict. He didn’t usually sleep this late, but Maddie had been wound up the night before and she’d talked well into the small hours before he convinced her to slide her folding door shut and get some sleep.

“Why’s she mad at you?”

“Because I hurt her feelings once.” He headed for the coffeepot.

“A long time ago?”

“Yep.”

“And she’s still mad?” Maddie blinked as she asked the question.

Kade poured coffee into a mug, took a sip. Then another. “Some people stay mad a long time, sweetie.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re lucky. Come on,” he said, jerking his head toward the stove. “I’ll make breakfast. You set the table.”

“Pancakes?”

“You bet.”

Maddie set the tiny fold-out table while Kade whipped up pancakes from a mix and started cooking dollar-size cakes in a cast-iron frying pan. Maddie loved the trailer because everything was small. She thought it was like living in a dollhouse, whereas Kade was getting a bona fide case of cabin fever after only a week. But he wouldn’t sleep in the house. He hated the feel of the place, could still feel his father’s malevolent presence.

“I want to see the blue horse before I go.”

“He’s not really blue, Maddie,” Kade replied as he flipped pancakes. His nerves were still humming from his encounter with Libby. She hadn’t changed much. She was still full of fire. Still beautiful with all that long curly hair and those flashing blue eyes. And she had obviously been unnerved by meeting Maddie.

Not that there was a chance in hell that her feelings toward his child would matter one way or the other. Libby was not, by nature, the trusting kind, and he’d done more than break her trust. He’d decimated it. But she’d also done a number on him, too, when she’d told him she wasn’t sure she wanted to get married.

“I know he’s not really blue,” Maddie replied airily, bringing his attention back to her. “He’s a blue roan. He has black and white and gray hairs mixed, and it looks like he’s blue.”

Maddie had had blue roans on the brain ever since Kade had told her about Blue, the stud his grandfather had given him when he was fifteen. He hadn’t told her about setting the horse free, since that was both illegal and frowned upon, instead letting her think that Blue had escaped on his own and joined a band of mustangs.

“And he’s far away. It’s a long ride.” Kade slapped half a dozen small pancakes onto a red plastic plate, handed it to his daughter, then started pouring more batter into the frying pan.

“I can make it,” Maddie said as she covered her pancakes with syrup.

“Maybe you can, but can Sugar Foot? You’re getting pretty big and riding double might be kind of hard on the old girl.”

“Da-ad.”

Kade smiled in response to her disgusted tone. He hated what his long-ago mistake had done to Libby, but never for one instant had he regretted his child. And he was doing the best he could to be a decent father, even though he didn’t have a lot of experience in that area. At least he’d hung around with his friend Menace’s huge family and Jason Ross’s smaller one enough to have some experiences of what a real family was supposed to be like.

“Maybe when I get my other horse we can ride out and see if we can find Blue.”

“Cool. When are you getting your other horse?” Maddie asked, practically bouncing in her seat. They’d been over this before, but Kade patiently repeated himself.

“As soon as I sell this place.”

“And then you’re moving back up by us, right?”

“Yeah.” I hope. It was also possible he’d have to go wherever he could find a decent job or—and he’d just started playing with this idea—where he could go to school. Get some training.

“And then I can ride the new horse all the time. Whenever I ask Mike for a horse, he says we don’t have room.”

“He has a point there, kiddo. Not many horses like living in a small backyard.”

“We can board him.”

“That’s expensive.”

“Mike’s rich.”

Not really, though compared to Kade he was. Kade refrained from commenting.

“Maybe when you move back, I can keep my horse with you?” Maddie held out her plate for seconds, having inhaled the first batch of pancakes.

“It may be a while before I get my own place.”

“I thought you’d be rich when you sell the house. You know, like you used to be.”

Or had thought he was.

“I wish,” Kade said. But if all went well, he should have enough to invest in a smaller property and pay for some kind of training. It just might not be in the immediate Elko area. “But no matter what, I’ll be close enough that we’ll get our time together, right?”

Kade’s cell phone rang just as he sent Maddie off to shower. She lingered at the door, shamelessly eavesdropping.

“This is Joe Barton of the Zephyr Valley ranch,” the man on the phone said without bothering to include a hello. “We met at the feed store.”

“I remember.”

“I apologize for being brusque then, but …”

“I understand,” Kade said. “Zero tends to be enthusiastic.”

“Yes. Exactly. And I didn’t know you from Adam. Didn’t connect the name until later. Anyway, would you be interested in riding some colts for me? I have three that need some miles.”

“I’m waiting to hear on a job.” Or three. “I’m not sure how much time I’ll have if it pans out.”

“I’m flexible. I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Zephyr Valley—” it almost hurt Kade to call the old Boggy Flat by that name “—is quite a drive from here. I’d want to have the colts here at my ranch while I’m riding them.”

“What are your facilities like? I don’t keep my horses in barbed wire.”

“Then I guess you won’t be keeping them here, unless they all stay in the one corral and you provide hay. My pastures have wire fences.”

“Do you mind if I stop by and see where you’d keep ‘em? Maybe iron out some details?”

“Sure. I’ll be home all day.”

“What do you charge a month?”

“A grand per animal,” Kade said without hesitation. He had a feeling Joe Barton wanted to tell people that world champion cowboy Kade Danning had finished his colts. And he’d discovered over the years that some people didn’t feel as if they were getting quality anything unless they paid through the nose.

“Nine hundred, if I provide the hay.”

“Agreed.”

“Who was that, Dad?” Maddie asked from the bathroom doorway.

“A guy who wants me to ride some colts for him.” And a nice surprise bit of income.

Maddie’s eyes widened. “Then I get Sugar Foot all to myself next time I visit.”

Kade smiled. “If he brings colts, you can ride Sugar Foot.”

“I wish Sugar Foot was all coal black with a white star. That’s what my next horse is going to be. Or maybe a blue roan.” She swung the door back and forth as she talked, then suddenly she stopped moving. “Hey. When you get the colts, then we can go see Blue with the wild horses.” Her eyes got even rounder as the idea began to gel. “We can camp out! And put ropes around our sleeping bags to keep snakes away and hobble the horses, like in my Phantom Stallion book.”

Kade fell back on one of those parental phrases he found he used over and over again. “We’ll see.”

“It’ll be so much fun.”

As much fun as horse camp? Somehow he thought not. A trip to the mustangs would be one or maybe two days at the most. Horse camp was three weeks. Hard to compare the two.

He couldn’t wait until he had this place sold and he could move closer to Maddie—close enough to fight for the time that was legally his.

Libby would probably organize a parade to celebrate his departure.

CHAPTER THREE

JILLIAN AND MIKE PULLED into Kade’s yard around four that afternoon. Mike was an accountant for one of the big mines in Elko. Quiet and unassuming. Kade had to admit that Mike was better for Jillian than he had ever been, but when Maddie ran and gave him a big hug Kade found it a little hard to take. She really did have two dads, and Kade sometimes had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t number one.

But he wasn’t giving up. Maybe he had some stuff to make up for, but for the most part he’d been there for his daughter—and he would continue to be there.

Jillian eyed the house, with its peeling paint and dirty windows, while Mike loaded Maddie’s purple suitcase in the trunk of the car. Her expression was pained.

“We stayed in the trailer,” Kade said.

“Good. I don’t want her exposed to hantavirus.”

Like he would let his kid be anywhere near mice. “Give me some credit, all right?”

Jillian sniffed. “When Maddie comes back here in June, will she be staying in the trailer? Or will the house be ready for habitation?” She smoothed her wind-ruffled hair away from her face as she spoke. It was a lighter brown than it had been when they’d been married. And streaked in a classy kind of way.

“I plan on having the house done by the time she gets here. If not, well, we’ve stayed in the trailer before.”

“But not for weeks, Kade. And when are you going to tell her she won’t be going to horse camp?”

“I’m not, Jillian. You’re the one who set that up—you explain it to her.” Kade was in a lose-lose situation, thanks to his ex-wife, and when they’d finally discussed the matter over the phone she hadn’t been one bit repentant.

“I get Maddie for two months every summer. It’s part of the agreement,” Kade continued.

“It’s not in her best interest. I thought you would understand that. Whatever happened between us, you always put Maddie’s well-being first.”

That’s it, Jillie. Slap down the guilt card.

“I allowed you to reduce child support,” she said with a tilt of her head.

“That was temporary. And I made it up.”

“But I cooperated.”

“Jillian, I want to see my daughter for the summer, as per the agreement. I don’t want to have to get a lawyer.”

He couldn’t afford a lawyer, and unfortunately, due to his having to temporarily lower his child-support payments while he’d fought his way out of the financial bind his crooked ex-accountant had left him in, she knew that.

“Do what’s best for Maddie, Kade. I’ll give you a couple days to think about it and then we’ll talk again. Oh … you really don’t need to send the support checks this summer, if it’s a burden.”

“Are you trying to buy me off?”

“I’m trying to do what’s best for my daughter.”

“Our daughter.”

“Do you have a means of support?”

“I’m doing all right.” Kind of.

“Well, if you’re working, then who’ll take care of Maddie?”

“Damn it, Jill …”

She started walking. “I’ll call in a few days, Kade, and we can discuss this some more.”

She got into the car, where Mike was waiting behind the wheel and Maddie was arranging her nest of blankets and pillows in the backseat beside the twins, leaving Kade seething. He faked a smile and raised a hand to wave to Maddie as they drove away. Mike waved back, too. Jillian didn’t.

Okay, maybe he wouldn’t go to work until after Maddie left. That was the way things would probably pan out, anyway, since he’d checked with every place he’d sent an application to and there were no bites so far. But on the bright side, riding colts for Joe Barton would help immensely, plus it was something he could do while Maddie was there and he’d still have time left to work on the house. Besides that, Maddie would only be there for a matter of a few weeks, unless he got tough with Jillian. But what kind of father kept his daughter from going to horse camp? Even he wasn’t delusional enough to imagine that riding with Dad would be as much fun as spending three weeks with other girls and lots of horses. There’d probably be campfires and marshmallows and girl talk.

Was Maddie old enough for girl talk?

It kind of tore at him to think that even if she wasn’t now, she soon would be. Kids grew up fast—faster than he’d ever dreamed. So why had his childhood seemed to last forever?

Must have been the fear factor.

Kade stared at the evil house in which he’d planned to spend the day, then turned his back on it and walked to his truck. The house would keep. Right now he was going to attend to some other unfinished business. Libby might not want to hear what he had to say, but he needed to say it.

LIBBY HAD JUST finished filling her horses’ water troughs when she heard a vehicle pull into her yard. Buster and Jiggs, her Australian shepherds, shot around the side of the barn at the sound of tires on gravel.

Libby wiped her damp hands down the sides of her jeans and followed the dogs, hoping she was about to come face-to-face with a traveling salesman—anyone other than Kade.

No such luck. Kade was crouched next to his truck, petting her traitorous dogs, who were taking turns licking his face.

“To the porch,” Libby ordered. The Aussies slowly obeyed, slinking away from Kade and casting Libby dark canine glances as they headed for the house.

Kade stood up. A good ten feet separated them. It didn’t feel like enough space. “You fixed the place up nice,” he said.

And she had, pouring all the work into it that her parents never had, due to their addictions. The barn had a proper roof now, and the pastures were well fenced. Her small house wasn’t the greatest, but she’d planted flowers all around it and someday she’d redo the inside. Someday.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Libby shoved her hands into the back pockets of her worn jeans. One of her fingers poked out of a hole that had worn through because of her fencing pliers. “Why are you here?”

“There’re still some things I want to straighten out.”

Libby shook her head. “I believe that everything between us is as straight as it’s going to get.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Differ all you want. And while you’re differing, maybe you could get into your truck and drive away.”

He advanced a couple slow steps forward. Libby held her ground, which wasn’t easy since every nerve in her body seemed to be screaming at her to back up.

“You came to see me,” he said in a reasonable tone once he’d come to a halt.

She pulled her hands out of her pockets, crossed them over her chest. “I came to tell you that I didn’t want you stirring up gossip.”

“Bull. You’ve never been concerned about gossip in your life.”

He had her there.

“All right. I’ll admit it—I wanted to get the damned reunion over with, since we were bound to run into each other sometime. I didn’t want an audience when it happened. Okay? I didn’t come to make friends with you.”

“Libby, a lot of stuff has happened since—” He gestured with one hand, but Libby cut him off before he could start talking again.

“I don’t want to hear about it.” She kicked a pebble with her foot, watched it bounce a couple times and then looked up at him, determined to get things straight once and for all, if that was truly what he wanted. Then maybe he’d leave.

“Here’s the deal, Kade. I trusted you. You were my lover and I trusted you.” She stopped, surprised that the corners of her mouth had started to quiver. It only took a second to regain control, but Kade had noticed. “I never thought you’d let me down.”

“There were circumstances.”

“Circumstances?” She couldn’t believe the force of anger that surged through her. “Circumstances? What circumstances led you to screw another woman—and knock her up?”

“Stop.”

He meant it. His face had turned pale. Libby shoved both hands through her curls, tilting her chin and squeezing her eyes shut, trying to get a grip. He probably didn’t want to think of his daughter as the result of knocking someone up. Even if it was true.

She opened her eyes but didn’t look at him. Instead, she focused momentarily on the gravel at her feet.

“Kade, I can tell you right now we’re not going to talk this through. We’re not going to shake hands and let bygones be bygones. I can’t do it.” She finally met his gaze. “I don’t even want to try.”

And then she turned and headed for the house, reinforcing her words with action, hoping Kade had the good sense to get in that truck and drive away. If he didn’t, things might get ugly.

Fortunately Kade knew trouble when he saw it. She heard the truck door open and shut, then the engine chug to life.

Libby kept walking.

AS SOON AS HE got home, Kade backed up to his dad’s old stock trailer. A few minutes later the trailer was hitched and he was out in the pasture slipping a halter on his horse.

A couple of hours in the mountains and then he’d go to work on the house, when he wasn’t so frustrated and pissed off that he could barely see straight. He’d had it in his mind to do two things when he moved back to Otto—make peace with Libby, or at least attempt to make peace, and find Blue. Obviously he wouldn’t be making peace with Lib, but maybe he could find his old horse and see if he’d managed to do one thing in life that hadn’t later turned to crap.

Kade parked the trailer and unloaded his horse in almost the same spot where he and Libby had parked their “borrowed” horse trailer fourteen years ago. There was a very real possibility that something had happened to Blue since they’d released him, but Kade was hoping that wasn’t the case. He wanted to see the stud running free, with many red and blue roan foals at the sides of his mares.

He smiled at the image, the tension in his muscles easing as he recalled the exhilaration, the sense of empowerment he’d felt when he’d turned Blue loose, slapping him on the butt and sending him off the hill to join the mustang herd.

Take that, Dad.

He and Libby had known enough about herd dynamics to realize Blue wouldn’t be welcome, but would hang about on the periphery until he’d managed to steal a few mares of his own. They’d discussed the possibility that Blue might not survive, but to Kade, young as he was, he thought it would be better for Blue to die in the wild than to be abused by an angry man. Kade’s father.

So they’d borrowed a trailer from Menace’s dad, taking it late at night without permission, and then they’d led Blue through the pasture and out the far gate to load him in the trailer on the county road so there’d be no suspicious tracks. A two-hour drive over to the Manning Valley, with Libby sitting close to him. They’d arrived at dawn, released Blue and been back in town by six o’clock. Menace’s trailer was back behind the barn and Libby had her dad’s truck in the garage before he’d come home from the bar. Kade had climbed in through his bedroom window and sprawled across his bed. Fifteen minutes later his dad had slammed the door open and told him to get his sorry carcass out of bed and go feed. Which Kade had done, coming back in a few minutes later to tell his dad that the blue stud was gone.

Kade had spent the rest of that day hovering between the satisfaction of knowing that the stud was safe and out-and-out fear. He’d been unable to meet up with Libby for several days, due to his old man’s fury. His dad hadn’t let him out of his sight.

Now Kade mounted and started up a road that would soon deteriorate into a rocky trail. A mustang trail. He sucked in a deep breath of mountain air. It had been too long since he’d been out here. He and Maddie had ridden around his rented property in Boise before he’d sold his second horse, but other than that, he hadn’t spent enough time in the saddle. He’d be rectifying that.

When he topped the pass leading into the next valley, he paused to let his horse have a breather. The meadow below was greening up, but the junipers and brush around it were little more than twisted black snags—evidence of a fire. The creek still ran through the meadow, pooling up at one end, but he could see that this was no longer the mustangs’ watering hole. In fact, he hadn’t seen a single sign of the herd.

He made a slight movement with his rein hand and his mount started to pick her way down the rocky trail to the meadow. If the mustangs weren’t watering there, where were they?

He drew his horse up and reversed course. He’d ride the ridge line and check the next drainage. They had to be somewhere close. Mustangs kept to their own range.

Six hours later he dismounted at the trailer. Both he and his horse were exhausted and he was by now certain that the mustang herd no longer resided in this valley.

Had some natural disaster wiped them out? There were fire scars. Disease? Had someone shot them?

Libby was a wild horse specialist. She would know.

And she’d be so happy to see him.

Maybe he’d wait a day or two before he asked.

ALMOST A WEEK had passed and Libby was still stewing over Kade’s recent visit. And it didn’t help that she couldn’t stop forming a mental picture of Kade and his daughter whenever she looked across the field and saw the lights of his trailer. The girl holding on to his belt, Kade putting a protective hand on her thin shoulder. Those little silver hearts and hot-pink kitties on the pjs.

Kade was a dad. He knew about parenting and diapers and midnight feedings. He’d experienced things that Libby was beginning to think she never would experience. Sure, she dated. She liked men. But every time someone got close, she felt the need to send him packing. Togetherness made her freeze. As a consequence, she generally didn’t didn’t date guys who wanted to put down roots.

She wasn’t certain if her commitment phobia was a character flaw or the result of Kade screwing around on her. Or if it went back even further than that, back to the time she’d finally figured out that not all parents were so busy drinking that they didn’t have time for their kid.

But she’d made her own family ties by then, attaching herself to Jason’s and Menace’s families, as had Kade. Since she and Kade had the most in common, however, and lived closest to one another, they’d hung together the most, understood each other the best—which was exactly why she’d never comprehended what had happened between them. She’d decided long ago that she wasn’t going to waste any more of her life trying to figure it out. The past was just that, and she was moving forward—if she could just get that damned father-daughter snapshot out of her head and stop feeling the jabs of pain that came with it.

Libby finally gave up and closed the computer file she’d been working on. She wasn’t accomplishing anything while her thoughts were all over the place, and she needed to concentrate as she tabulated the research results of a two-year range study. Then, as soon as she was done with the tabulations, she would write her section of a report that weighed the effects of animal usage, including cattle, native herds of deer, antelope and elk and mustangs. Which animals had the most impact on the land, which needed to be cut back during certain negative conditions. And most importantly, the optimum numbers that the range could sustain.

Glen, her former boss, had started the project the year before he retired, and she, Stephen and Fred, her coworkers, had spent the past eighteen months gathering data, as well as searching archived reports for information. Now, with no end to the drought in sight, the findings would be used as the basis for making some serious land-usage decisions. Libby wanted to be as careful and accurate as possible with her part of the report—which meant that this was not the time to work on it.

She reached for the phone and dialed the number for Menace’s service station. “This has been one long week,” she said as soon he answered.

“You at work or home?”

“Home.” Such as it was. Libby glanced around her living room, thinking she really had to spend less time in the barn and more time making her house a home. But right now her animals were more important to her than new curtains or furniture.

“Lucky you,” Menace grumbled.

“I did four ten-hour days this week,” she retorted. And thanks to Ellen and a series of “important” yet useless meetings, it felt as if she’d worked six ten-hour days. “So … are we on for this evening?”

“What do you mean, are we on?” Menace asked, sounding shocked. “It’s chorizo night at the bar. Of course we’re on.”

Chorizo night. Great. Libby wasn’t really a fan, but the Basque sausages were a local favorite, and she’d much rather lose herself in a crowd than sit at home and brood about what was. And wasn’t.

“I only asked because I heard you’ve made a new friend and I thought you might have other plans,” she said.

Menace coughed. “Uh, what new friend?”

“Your new female friend.” The one the waitresses at the café had been buzzing about when Libby had stopped to pick up dinner on her way home the night before. The new owner of the hardware store. Ginger someone.

“No plans,” he said stiffly.

“I’d like to meet her.”

“I’m taking it slow. Don’t want to scare her off, you know?”

“Good idea.” And it was about time. Menace had dreadful luck with women, and part of the problem was that his enthusiasm at actually being with a woman often overwhelmed the new girlfriend. “See you around eight?”

“Sure. But what if, you know, Kade shows up, too?”

“We already cleared the air.” Sort of. Enough for him to stay away from her, she hoped.

“Any broken bones?” Menace was only half joking.

“No,” Libby said with a sigh. If only it had been that simple.

“Glad to hear it,” Menace said. “You can’t go living your life being mad at someone.”

“I never said I wasn’t mad,” Libby said softly. “See you tonight.” She hung up and went to the back porch, where she slipped into her barn boots, whistled for the dogs and went out to feed her horses. Four hours to burn. Four hours to think too much. Maybe it was a good time to muck out the stalls.

JOE BARTON SHOWED up with three beautiful colts late Friday afternoon, colts that radiated breeding and money. Joe had come to inspect the premises before allowing his animals to stay with Kade, but since Kade had put in two backbreaking days bringing the corrals up to standard, fixing the sagging gates and rebuilding the mangers and wind shelters, Joe had no problem with what Kade had to offer. He’d stayed while Kade started ground work with the first colt, a black Appaloosa with a splashy blanket.

“I can see this will work out just fine,” Joe said when Kade released the colt and caught the second. “I’d heard good things.” He smoothed his mustache with a forefinger. “You know, I was in the stands the night that bronc beat the snot out of you. I apologize for not recognizing you at the feed store.”

“Not one of my better nights,” Kade said, tying the colt to the hitching rail. “And I don’t really want to be remembered for being beat up.”

“You came back.”

“I did.” He just hoped he could do it again, prove he wasn’t a loser.

“You don’t mind if I stop by to check progress?”