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Cowgirl, Say Yes
Brenda Mott
This hard-nosed cattleman isn't ashamed to begWidowed rancher Wade Darland freely admits that Tess Vega's way of thinking has him scratching his head. He believes in shipping old barn animals off to auction, whereas she's just set up a sanctuary for abused and abandoned horses. He can't let a day go by without tucking in to some meat, whereas she hears the word and it sends her fleeing.And then there's the matter of Wade's children–especially Wade's young daughter, whose motherless childhood is so similar to Tess's own.Tess's interference in the Darland family circle arouses Wade's ire, and he implores her to say no to Macy when the little girl starts hanging around.But after a few more encounters with the spunky redhead, Wade is soon begging the cowgirl to say yes–not just to Macy but to him, too.



“You’re not to interfere with my daughter anymore,” Wade said
“You’re her 4-H leader, not her mother,” he added.
“As though I’d want to be, since that would mean being married to you.” Tess wasn’t quite sure where that comment had come from. Actually, she’d love to be Macy’s mom…if only she came without her dad.
Wade looked stunned by her words. “Well, I reckon there’s not much danger of that.” He downed the rest of his beer and set the bottle on the countertop. “I’d throw the bottle away, but I imagine you’d like to recycle it,” he told her sarcastically, thinking of her do-good ways.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, crossing her arms as she got up from the table. “Maybe I’d rather break it over your thick skull.” She flashed him a mock smile.
To her surprise, he laughed. “I do like your spunk, Miss Tess Vega,” he said. He pointed a forefinger. “Just remember. You’re Macy’s 4-H leader, and that’s all.” He tipped his hat. “Night, spitfire.”
“Good night yourself,” she said to his departing back. “Jackass.”
Dear Reader,
I think one of the most common questions asked of an author is, “Where do you get your ideas?” Sometimes that’s easy to answer and sometimes it isn’t. Ideas come from many sources, often simply out of the blue, and at times sparked by an incident, a newspaper article or perhaps a conversation. I like to take my ideas and toss them into a mental slow cooker and let them simmer awhile.
The one for this book was sparked by an Alan Jackson song. When I heard Alan’s sexy voice crooning “WWW Dot Memory,” I knew instantly that I needed to write a book in which the hero is a cowboy who runs some type of Internet business. I tossed it into my slow cooker and let it stew for several months. Imagine my surprise when I opened the lid and discovered the story of Wade Darland (Macy’s dad from Sarah’s Legacy), which had cooked itself up while I wasn’t looking.
When Wade decides that ranching is simply becoming too tough to make a living at these days, combined with the fact that he wants to spend more time with his kids, he comes to the conclusion that he needs to go a little high-tech—well, for a cowboy, anyway—and put up a Web site for his new tack and leather business, “Cowboy Up.” He’s confident he’s got his world under control, his family neatly tucked into a protective circle where no outsiders are allowed—most especially a woman.
Little does he know he’s about to butt heads with Tess Vega, Macy’s new 4-H leader, a vegetarian and rescuer of abused and neglected horses. I had a great deal of fun writing Wade and Tess’s story. Come with me, dear reader, and join Wade and Tess on their journey in search of love and commitment.
Brenda Mott
P.S. I love to hear from my readers. My e-mail address is BrendaMott@hotmail.com. Please reference the book on the subject line.

Cowgirl, Say Yes
Brenda Mott


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my own cowboy husband, David—for your loving
support and for putting up with all my critters.
I’d like to thank the following people
for their help in providing information
that went into this book.
D’Ann Linscott-Dunham—
good friend, fellow cowgirl and 4-H leader.
Dr. Mark Flinner.
Brenda Schetnan, R.N., and Mary Jane Hangs, who have
both cared extensively for Alzheimer’s patients. Also,
Katie Lovette, fellow member of Smoky Mountain Romance
Writers and author of Loving Care for Alzheimer’s Patients.
Tom Anderson, who owns the real “Cowboy Up.”
And last, but definitely not least, the folks of
Colorado Horse Rescue and Terri Shell, Kitty and Bucky
of Dream Catcher Farm Horse Sanctuary, for graciously
answering my questions and for the wonderful work they
do. May God bless you for saving our four-legged friends.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER ONE
TESS VEGA OPENED the Mother’s Day card and signed her name at the bottom. Then she reread the note she’d penned moments earlier.
Dear Mama,
Sometimes it helps me to put words down on paper. Words you don’t understand anymore. I hate that Alzheimer’s took you away from me and Dad, Zach and Seth. But even more, I hate that it took you away from yourself. The disease is so unfair. But then, I guess so is any other disease people suffer….
All week, I’ve seen ads on TV for greeting cards with sentimental verses, and for buying just the right Mother’s Day gift. I want to give you a perfect gift, Mama, but material things no longer hold any meaning for you. They really don’t for me, either. All I want is a way to wind back the clock to how it used to be for us. I miss you, Mama. I’ll visit you today and bring you flowers and balloons. You may not recognize me anymore. But sometimes I think you can sense things deep down. If so, you’ll know this: I love you with all my heart.
Tess folded the note in half and reached for the glue. She squeezed a thin line of it around the edges of the paper and sealed the note shut. Then she slipped it in the card and glued that shut, as well. The words she’d written were for her mother only, not for anyone else’s eyes. And while sealing notes that no one would ever read inside a card might seem foolish, it gave Tess some peace.
She’d been writing such notes for years, tucking them away in a greeting card on each and every holiday. Raelene might not be capable of reading them, but she enjoyed holding the cards, and Tess felt great satisfaction at knowing the words that came from her heart were there each time, hidden inside.
Tucking the card into its envelope, Tess rose, then gathered up the balloons and flowers she’d purchased and headed outside to her truck. Birds sang in the quiet surrounding her farmhouse as she slid behind the wheel. She placed the balloons and flowers on the seat beside her. They filled the cab of the pickup with cheer. Tess clung to that cheer as she drove toward town and the County Care Facility.
Determined to make this day the best she possibly could for her mother.

WADE DARLAND STEERED his horse toward Windsong Ranch, worried about his daughter. It wasn’t like Macy to disappear without telling him where she’d be. But then, at the age of ten—almost eleven—she’d taken to doing things her own way of late, behaving like an alien creature. A creature called woman. He sure found it easier to relate to his twelve-year-old son, Jason, though he loved both his kids equally.
Sighing, Wade shook his head. Maybe Bailey would have an idea where Macy was, though even that was doubtful. His daughter hadn’t been hanging out at Bailey’s place as much as she used to, before it became the main location of Windsong Ranch—before Bailey and Trent married and started a family of their own.
The Murdocks were Wade’s closest neighbors in the small mountain community of Ferguson, Colorado, and raised Arabian horses on the eighty-acre farm just two miles from the Darlands’ Circle D ranch. They also owned the adobe-style ranch house that rested on an adjoining three hundred sixty acres—the place Trent had called home before he and Bailey got together. Macy, who no longer had her mother to turn to, had found a friend and mentor in Bailey the moment she’d met her. President of the local bank, Bailey was an animal lover, and Macy had spent a great deal of time the first summer Bailey moved to Ferguson, tagging at her heels, hanging out at her farm.
But now, with twin babies to occupy their time, the Murdocks had little to spare. Because Wade himself kept busy trying to make a living ranching—which wasn’t easy these days—he knew Macy was at a bit of a loss without Bailey’s fairly constant company. With nine days to go before school let out, Macy had begun to neglect her homework. Spring fever taken into consideration, Wade still kept a firm hand on both her and Jason, making sure they stayed focused. Not always an easy job for a widowed man.
All the more reason to reconsider ranching full-time, Wade thought. The Circle D simply took too much away from his kids.
Focusing on the here and now, he turned his blue roan gelding up the driveway of the white frame farmhouse and let the horse break into a trot. The ground beneath Dakota’s hooves squished, dampened by last night’s rain. Overhead, the leaves on the massive cottonwoods fluttered in the breeze, calling out a lazy invitation for all and anyone to enjoy the dappled patches of sun and shade on the grass below.
Trent sat sprawled in a chair on the front porch as Wade approached. He wore faded jeans and a T-shirt with what appeared to be a trace of baby vomit down the front of one shoulder. He broke into a wide grin when Wade pulled Dakota to a halt at the foot of the steps.
“Howdy, neighbor.” Trent moved as though to rise, but Wade motioned him to stay put in the chair.
“Don’t get up on my account.” He grinned back. “You look tired, hoss. What’s wrong? Are the twins keeping you up nights?”
Trent swept a hand through his cropped blond hair and nodded. “More like they’re keeping us up round the clock. Austin’s got colic, and Cody cries in sympathy.”
Wade chuckled. “Better you than me. I’m glad those days are behind me.”
Trent quirked his mouth. “Yeah, I’d forgotten how this routine goes.” His words were bittersweet, and Wade knew he still missed his little girl, Sarah, who would’ve been nine now, had cancer not taken her young life. But Trent had a new family with Bailey, and seeing his friend so happy did Wade’s heart good.
“Hey, have you seen Macy?” Wade asked. “I thought she might be up here pestering Bailey.”
“She stopped by earlier,” Trent said. “I’m not sure, but I think she went up to the ranch.” He indicated the place on the hill above the farmhouse.
“What’s she doing up there?” Wade asked, glancing toward the dividing fence between the properties.
“Tess Vega leased the ranch from me. I thought you knew that.”
“No. I heard she’d taken over Macy’s 4-H group, but I wasn’t aware she was living at your ranch.” Tess’s father owned the local feed store, and Wade had been acquainted with the Vega family in that regard for a number of years now. When Macy’s 4-H leader had married and made plans to move away, Tess had been an ideal replacement. She had connections in the community through working at the feed store and was well acquainted with most of the 4-H kids and their parents, who bought supplies from Lloyd Vega. Plus, she ran a horse sanctuary for abused and abandoned animals, funded by donations. The county agent had been more than happy to accept her when she’d volunteered for the vacated position.
Trent nodded again. “I leased the house and twenty acres to her for her sanctuary.”
Wade really hadn’t given much thought about Tess’s non-profit organization—Western Colorado Horse Rescue—until now. But things suddenly clicked at Trent’s comment. Macy loved animals, and Bailey no longer had enough time for her. No wonder his daughter was drawn to Tess Vega.
Just then the screen door creaked open and Bailey stepped out onto the porch. She closed the door behind her with exaggerated care to mute the squeak. Motherhood had done nothing to diminish her attraction. She might be wearing a loose flannel shirt because her waistline was not quite back to normal, but she looked good. And happy.
Wade smiled. “Hey, Bailey. How’re the boys? I hope Macy’s not getting in your way too much.”
Bailey smiled. “Are you kidding? She’s my best helper.” She bent and gave Trent a peck on the cheek. “Next to you, sweetie.” She winked and Trent covered her hand with his as she rested it on his shoulder. “At least, when she’s here she is.” Bailey narrowed her eyes. “Is everything okay, Wade? Macy doesn’t come over as often as she used to.”
“Yeah. I think she’s just feeling a little ousted by the twins.”
“Then I’ll have to make sure she knows how much I miss her,” Bailey said. “Want to come in and take a peek at the boys?” She motioned toward the door. “I put them down for a nap, but if you’re quiet you can have a look.” She had the typical proud expression of a new parent, and Wade was moved by her happiness. She and Trent had been through a lot in their pasts. He was truly glad they’d found each other.
For a brief moment, loneliness squeezed at his heart. God, how he missed Deidra. The five years since her death had passed in a blur. Yet he still had a hard time coping with Mother’s Day, which he’d always tried to make special for her even while she was pregnant with Jason. He shrugged the gloomy feeling aside. He’d learned to live for his children. Mother’s Day had come three days ago, and he’d spent it with Macy and Jason, playing horseshoes, barbecuing hamburgers. Not dwelling on the fact that Deidra was no longer with them.
“Thanks,” he said in answer to Bailey’s invitation, “but I better go find Macy. She needs to do her homework and finish her chores.”
“Oh, well, I think she’s up at the ranch,” Bailey said. “With Tess Vega.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Trent mentioned it. Guess I’ll ride on over there and see.”
“Don’t worry,” Bailey added. “Tess is really a nice person. She loves animals.” She beamed as though this was the best quality someone could have. “But then, I guess you know her from the feed store.”
“Yeah.” But not well. Funny how a person could do business with someone for years without really delving into her social life. He supposed if Tess was going to be involved with Macy, he’d better make it a point to get to know her better.
Wade looked around, noting the many pets Bailey had gradually added to her farm, beginning with a stray dog, a half-blind horse and a rogue tomcat. The dog and cat now lay curled at one end of the porch—Buddy, the blue heeler mix, too lazy even to bark; the battle-scarred tomcat content to soak up the comfort of the dog’s sun-warmed fur. In a nearby cage, several rabbits hopped around, nibbling at a handful of alfalfa not far away, and a trio of ducks waddled across the lawn on their way to the children’s wading pool, located in one corner of the yard.
“I’ll head on over to her,” Wade repeated.
Another animal lover.
Another mother figure for Macy to attach herself to.
Lord have mercy. He didn’t need this at all.

“ARE YOU SURE your dad wants Amber to come live at the sanctuary?” Tess eyed the little palomino mare that stood with one hip cocked at the hitching post in the driveway. The horse looked well cared for, without a worry in the world. Not her normal rescue case. Why on earth would Wade Darland not allow his daughter to keep her own horse? What kind of father was he?
She’d seen him around town plenty of times, and often talked to him at her father’s feed store, where she worked part-time, but she didn’t really know the man. And because she’d only recently taken over as Macy’s 4-H leader, she hadn’t yet run into Wade at a meeting.
“Uh-huh,” Macy said in answer to Tess’s question. Then she quirked her mouth. “Well, I’m pretty sure, anyway. I’ve been talking to him about it.”
“I see. Macy, why doesn’t he want to let Amber retire at your ranch?”
Macy started to answer, then turned, instead, to see who was approaching on horseback.
Tess looked, too, and her stomach knotted as Wade Darland himself rode up the driveway on a pretty, blue roan quarter horse. Macy’s comment left her with the feeling she was in for a confrontation. As though agreeing, her dogs trotted along the driveway, barking a warning.
“Uh-oh,” Macy said, grimacing. “I think I forgot to finish my chores. And my homework.” She moved toward her horse as her dad halted in front of her and Tess.
“Hi.” He tipped his well-worn cowboy hat, and Tess was treated to a glimpse of hair the color of rich brown soil. Then the horse shifted, putting her gaze directly in line with the sun.
Tess shielded her eyes and looked up at Wade. “Hi,” she said. “Macy just remembered her homework.”
“That, and you’ve got chores to do, young lady.” He frowned, but he didn’t appear genuinely angry. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
His next words shot her last thought to the ground.
“Macy, what are you doing here? You know better than to take off without telling me or leaving a note.”
It wasn’t the note business that nettled Tess. It was the “what are you doing here” part, with emphasis on the here.
“I am Macy’s new 4-H leader,” Tess said.
“I’m aware of that,” he replied. “But that doesn’t excuse my daughter taking off without leaving word.” He turned once more to Macy and repeated his question.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Macy said, not looking so at all. “I just wanted to go for a ride and see Bailey’s twins again.”
“And?”
Wade seemed to know his daughter better than she thought.
Macy shifted from one foot to the other, clutching Amber’s reins.
“And talk to Tess about Amber,” she muttered, staring down at her feet as she scuffed the toe of her boot against the gravel driveway.
“What?”
“And talk to Tess—” Macy began, speaking more clearly.
“I heard you.” Wade frowned. “Macy, we’ve already been over this.” He glanced Tess’s way. “Now’s not the time. We’ll talk some more when we get home.”
“But, Dad…”
“Macy.” Wade gave her a firm look. “You heard me. Come on. Get on your horse and let’s go.”
He focused on Tess, turning the blue roan so that the sun was no longer in Tess’s eyes.
“Sorry if Macy’s been pestering you,” he said. “We’ll be going.”
“Hold up a minute.” She laid her hand on the roan’s muzzle, stilling Wade’s pull on the reins. “Macy isn’t pestering me. She came over here to talk to me about giving Amber a permanent home.”
The sun-bronzed color in his face deepened, along with the scowl creasing his forehead. He was a good-looking man, she’d give him that, but right now his expression did nothing to add appeal to his charmless demeanor.
“She shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “I told her not to.”
“Why?” Folding her arms, Tess challenged him with the single word.
“What do you mean, why?” He scowled some more. “There’s no reason for asking, that’s why. We’ve got a ranch of our own, and when the horses can no longer serve a purpose, they’ll go to the sale barn.”
Now it was Tess’s turn to scowl. “The sale barn? Wade, you know what happens to horses that go there. At least the ones past their prime.”
He shot her a glare that said she’d overstepped her boundaries, but she didn’t care. Idiots like him made her rescue work necessary.
“I’m not going to argue with you on this, Tess. It’s none of your concern.”
“Is that right?” She frowned at him. “I’d say it is my concern when your daughter comes to me practically in tears because you aim to ship her horse off to the kil—to the auction.”
“I said I wasn’t going to argue with you.” He spoke the words evenly, but his hazel eyes showed irritation at her. “Come on, Macy, we’re burning daylight.”
“Burning daylight?” Tess scoffed. “You’ve been watching too many John Wayne movies, Wade. Maybe you ought to spend less time with your remote control and more time finding out what’s truly important to your daughter.” As soon as the words were out, she knew she’d overstepped. She really didn’t know Wade well enough to speak to him that way, but when people acted as though animals were disposable—useful today, dumped tomorrow—it made her furious.
He clenched his jaw. “What did I say?” he reiterated. “The horse is none of your concern, either. Macy, come on!” Without waiting, he thumped his heels against the roan’s sides, making the gelding jump into a trot.
Tess scowled after him, her heart breaking when she saw the expression on Macy’s face as she followed her father down the driveway. From the back of her palomino, the little girl gave a sad little wave, then faced forward.
Tess wanted to run after the man and yank him from the saddle. Maybe knock some sense into his head or, better yet, start on the other end with a cowboy boot to his butt.
She watched her dogs, who circled her feet, sensing something had upset her. Duke, her German shepherd, growled, and Bruiser, her miniature pinscher, trotted briskly down the driveway, looking right then left. His high-pitched bark warned he just might mean business if something was amiss. Only Sasha, the Australian shepherd, wagged her stubby tail, her red-speckled body wriggling along with it.
“You’re too late, Duke,” Tess addressed the German shepherd. “You should’ve bitten him while you had the chance.”

“MACY, why did you do that?” Exasperated, Wade sat at the table, looking at his daughter. Her eyes filled with tears, making him feel every inch the creep Tess Vega obviously thought he was. “Why did you lie to Tess and tell her I said she could have Amber?”
“Because,” Macy said, swiping angrily at her tears. “I don’t want Amber to go to the sale barn.”
“But, honey.” Wade softened his tone, reaching out to put his hand on Macy’s shoulder. He gave her a gentle squeeze. “If you don’t sell her, then you won’t have any money to put toward a new horse. Amber’s getting too old to do barrels and poles. You know that, don’t you?” The barrel-racing and pole-bending events Macy competed in required a lot of running, coupled with sharp turns around three fifty-five-gallon drums set in a cloverleaf pattern, or six poles placed in a row. To compete on a regular basis took a lot of physical effort for a horse.
Macy sobbed, no longer able to hold back. “I know. But I love her!” She said the word as though it was foreign to him, making him feel ten times worse. He’d never meant to make his daughter so upset.
“Baby, don’t cry. I’m not trying to be mean. I’m just trying to be practical. You know, Grandpa Darland was always the same way when I was growing up. Horses get old, Macy. It can’t be helped. Just like we all do. And when they’re too old to use, then you’ve got to be sensible and ship ’em to auction. Replace them with new ones. You’ll find another horse to love.”
“You don’t ship people off to auction just ’cause they’re old,” Macy snapped, some of her spunk returning. She sniffed loudly. “If so, Grandpa Darland would’ve been hauled off long ago.”
Wade let out a chuckle and rumpled Macy’s hair. “Better not let him hear you say that.” He sighed, searching for a way to make her see reason. “Macy, it’s not the same thing at all. Horses aren’t people.”
“Amber’s people to me. And if you won’t let her stay here, then I want her to go live with Tess.” Her lip trembled, but she bit it, fighting for control. She’d always been a tough little cuss, which broke his heart all the more.
“Honey, it’s not that I don’t want Amber to live here. I was only trying to help you see the smart thing in selling her so you can have a new horse. I can’t afford the purchase price of one right now, with my leather business just taking off.” A good 4-H horse could run into the thousands, and Wade’s new business selling tack and leather belts was not yet well established. “You understand, don’t you?”
She frowned at him. “I understand that part of it, but I still don’t want to sell her.”
“Okay,” he said, holding up one hand in surrender. “You don’t have to. Nobody’s trying to force you to sell your horse. I just thought it might be a good idea, that’s all….” He let the words trail away. Had he given Macy the impression he was trying to force her to sell her mare? If so, he hadn’t meant to. He simply didn’t understand her way of thinking, any more than he understood Tess’s.
A horse sanctuary, for God’s sake. Who would ever dream up such a crazy thing? Horses weren’t pets the way dogs were. He could see the sense in an animal shelter, but a horse sanctuary? He’d grown up on a working cattle ranch of over six thousand acres, and all the cowboys on the place, including his own father looked at the horses they rode as working animals…part of the operation, just like the tractors that furrowed the hay fields and the pickup trucks that delivered the bales. When horses broke down, it was time to get rid of them and replace them with something newer, something better.
But his daughter, it seemed, had different ideas, in spite of being raised on a working ranch herself. He blamed people like Tess for that, even Bailey Murdock. Oh, sure, he liked Trent and Bailey both, but they weren’t native to the area. Trent came from California, where things were viewed differently, and Bailey was from the city—Denver. Not that he had anything against folks from California—or from the city, either, for that matter.
It was just…well…take Trent’s fancy horse. Arabians. For the life of him, Wade couldn’t figure why anyone would pay thousands of dollars for a hot-headed horse that wasn’t good for much, as far as he could see, except prancing around, looking pretty.
And Bailey had gotten Macy all fired up about pets and saving stray animals.
More than ever, Wade wished Deidra were still alive. Trying to fill the role of father and mother wasn’t easy. Sometimes he made the wrong choices. Apparently this was one of them.
Pulling his thoughts back to the immediate situation, Wade wrapped his arm around Macy’s shoulders and drew her into a hug. “You can stop crying,” he said. “Amber can stay.”
“She can?” Her blue eyes wide with hope, Macy looked up at him, wrenching his heart.
“Yeah, she can. But that means no new horse until we get some more money somehow.”
“I don’t care.” A smile lit her face. “As long as we don’t have to send Amber to the sale barn.”
“Fine. Now, finish your chores, then do your homework.” He picked up the milk glass and cookie plate that sat empty in front of Macy. “I’ll get your dishes this time.” He gave her a wink.
Macy slid her chair back, stood and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I love you, Daddy.” Then she raced out the door.
“I love you, too, baby.” Wade spoke softly, the words echoing in the empty kitchen.
He moved to the sink, rinsed the dishes and stuffed them into the already overcrowded dishwasher. Absentmindedly, he added detergent and flipped the switch. The machine whirred to a start, quickly filling the kitchen with the scent of hot water and lemon.
Wade opened the fridge and took out a package of hamburger, ground from their own beef on the Circle D. How on earth was he supposed to make ends meet with what the ranch was bringing in? Yet if he sold the cows and got out, they’d no longer have the luxury of eating as many steaks a week as they wanted. He’d seen the price of beef in town, and it angered him beyond words that the rancher and the farmer weren’t the ones making money off the meat and produce sold in the supermarket. The middleman was, and without the homegrown beef to supplement their food supply, they’d be hard-pressed to eat well.
Wade shaped the burger into patties while his mind raced.
Still, his leather business was gradually picking up, and he did have the new Web site nearly up and running. Cowboy Up could turn out to be a bigger hit than he’d imagined. There was a lot to be said for the World Wide Web, and working in the house rather than out in the barn or elsewhere on the ranch would give him a lot more time to spend with Jason and Macy.
Yet he still couldn’t decide whether to sell the cattle. Maybe he’d just sell part of the herd. Maybe Tess Vega could start up a cow sanctuary, he thought dryly.
The screen door banged open, then shut, interrupting his thoughts as Jason flew into the kitchen like a tornado on the heels of a hurricane. “Hey, Dad! When’s supper? I’m starvin’.” Lanky for his age, Jason was always hungry, and seemed to outgrow his jeans as fast as Wade could buy them. The boy moved to the sink to wash his sun-browned hands using the dishwashing soap, then hastily wiped them on a paper towel.
“Son, don’t waste the paper towels like that.” Wade tossed him the dish towel and Jason gave his hands another swipe. “Dinner will be ready shortly. Why don’t you help me out…peel a few potatoes.”
“All right.” Jason moved to the potato bin, his light-brown hair peeking out from beneath his ball cap.
“Take your hat off.”
Whistling, Jason flipped it at the rack by the back door, missed and scooped it up, then aimed once more. This time the John Deere cap found its mark. Jason grinned at him, then pointed. “What’s that on your head, Dad?”
“What?” Wade reached up to touch his head, and his hand bumped against the brim of his worn, gray Resistol. It was such a part of him he hadn’t even realized he still had it on. He laughed, then hung it on the peg next to Jason’s cap. “Silly of me, huh?”
“Hey, Dad,” Jason said, sitting at the table and running the peeler over a large russet potato. “Did you know that Tess from the feed store moved into Trent Murdock’s place?”
“I heard,” Wade said dryly. “Your sister was up there this afternoon.”
“Wondered where she’d gone off to,” Jason said. “She was supposed to help me with the bucket calves.” Every spring they ended up with a few calves that needed supplemental feeding for one reason or another. A bucket with rubber nipples attached inside served as a surrogate mother.
“I know. I lined her out.” Wade grinned and Jason grinned back. They both realized his idea of firm discipline was little more than a lecture. Most often, he found reasoning with his kids worked just fine, but today there’d been no reasoning with Macy.
His thoughts turned again to Tess. He’d seen her on numerous occasions at the feed store, but he’d never really noticed until today that she was a good-looking woman. At least, she could be, if she’d learn how to wear something other than bib overalls, and if she’d take her flame-red hair out of those silly braids.
Braids like a kid. Hell, she wasn’t much more than a kid. Probably about twenty-four, he thought. Or maybe twenty-five. He wasn’t sure. These days anyone under thirty seemed young to him.
At thirty-three, Wade already felt every one of his years in the aches in his joints and muscles when he lay in bed at night after a hard day putting up fence or pulling calves during calving season or whatever else was required to keep the Circle D running. His days of affording hired help were long past, and trying to keep things up with only Macy and Jason to pitch in had been hell lately.
Deidra had been his right arm as well as his best friend. A strong, hard worker and practical to the bone. Nothing like Tess, with her batty ideas about rescuing old horses.
Horse sanctuary.
“Dad?” Jason waved a hand in front of his face.
Wade blinked. “What?”
“Did Tess work her charms on you, too?” Jason teased.
“Hardly.” Then he frowned. “What do you mean ‘too’?”
“Nothing.” Jason chuckled. “She’s hot, ain’t she?”
Wade knuckled his son’s hair. “You’re not supposed to be noticing things like that yet.”
“Dad! I’m almost thirteen.” He said it as though the age equaled manhood.
Wade grinned. “Yeah, I guess you are. And I guess she is. Hot, that is,” he added. “But she’s sure irritating.”
“Yep.” Jason nodded as though he held the wisdom of the world in his mind. “Women usually are.”

CHAPTER TWO
TESS SHUT the refrigerator door a little too hard, and the magnetic calendar that didn’t seem to stick right anymore slid off and plopped on the floor. She picked it up and noticed her upcoming birthday marked with pink Hi-Liter—Macy’s doing. Six more days and she’d turn twenty-seven. Twenty-seven and still married to her job.
She shrugged off the thought. Only her run-in with Wade was making her think that way. Any other time, she knew she was better off sharing her home with no one but her animals. Heck, she had all the kids she needed in her 4-H group. And Lord knows she’d had enough of being a family caregiver to last a lifetime. Not that she would ever begrudge the time she’d devoted to her mother. Instead, she treasured it.
Raelene Vega had developed familial Alzheimer’s disease—FAD, a rare form of Alzheimer’s—at the age of forty-one. As the years passed, she’d required Tess’s ever-increasing care. It wasn’t her fault, no more than Tess’s dad and two older brothers were to blame for being men—which translated to helpless half the time.
Tess had been the primary caregiver, maker of meals and soother of colds, flu and broken hearts since the age of sixteen. Her father had insisted that Raelene, the woman he’d thought would be his life’s partner, stay at home for as long as possible. With the progress of time came progress of the disease. Tess had quickly grown to hate FAD. Not for what it put her through, but for what her mother suffered.
Once a vibrant, intelligent woman who took pride in the three kids she’d chosen to adopt, she’d taught them how to ride a horse, how to build a barn and what to do when a member of the opposite sex called for the first time on the phone. But in the grip of Alzheimer’s, Rae’s mind had quickly deteriorated. Her condition had worsened to the point that although Lloyd Vega and all three of his children visited Rae regularly at the County Care Facility, she rarely knew who they were anymore.
Tess tried not to think about that part.
And she tried not to be selfish and thank God that, even though she felt like Rae’s flesh and blood, she wasn’t. Tess’s birth mother had abandoned her and her brothers when they were small, fading from their lives without so much as a second thought. Raelene had married Lloyd a short time later, and adopted Tess and the boys. FAD ran in generations, and if Tess, Zach and Seth had been Rae’s biological children, they would have had a fifty-fifty chance of inheriting the disease.
Angry at herself not for the first time for letting such a thought come to mind, Tess slapped the calendar back up on the fridge, opened the door and peered inside. An assortment of fresh vegetables and cheese greeted her, and her stomach growled. She’d given up meat ten years ago, when her love for animals dictated she do the right thing. Reaching into the fridge, she chose a cluster of fresh broccoli and a chunk of Monterey Jack, both of which would go nicely with the ziti she’d purchased yesterday. She’d also treat herself to a good, ice-cold beer. Tess rarely drank the stuff, but the day she’d had today warranted one.
First there’d been the call she’d gotten at work…a summons to a boarding stable located ten miles from town. The caller had been a concerned neighbor, and the tale she’d told had been familiar. One that never failed to twist Tess’s stomach into a knot. An abandoned horse, neglected because the owner no longer cared and had found better things to spend money on.
Tess had driven out immediately, to find a bone-thin gray mare standing in a stall full of manure. Mane and tail matted, hooves curled like elf shoes, she had a dull expression in her eyes that said she’d given up hope. Crud caked her once-pretty dappled coat, and flies buzzed around the stall in excess. The entire barnyard looked as though it hadn’t been cleaned in a millenium.
Furious beyond words, Tess had offered the idiot stable owner, who now “took care” of the abandoned mare, fifty dollars for the animal, knowing he’d ask for more. He hadn’t disappointed her. Two hundred dollars later, she’d left with the gray safely stowed in the two-horse trailer behind her Dodge Ram. The poor creature had loaded without much fuss, especially once she laid eyes on the flake of grass hay waiting for her in the trailer’s manger.
Back home, Tess had promptly called Doc Baker, who came out as soon as he could and examined the mare. He proclaimed her salvageable, gave her wormer medication and a vaccine to guard against tetanus, influenza and sleeping sickness, and recommended a top-notch farrier to trim her grossly overgrown hooves. Tess’s own farrier, married to Macy’s former 4-H leader, had moved away last week.
With the mare under Doc’s watchful eye, Tess left the barn long enough to call the number on the business card he’d given her. To her delight, the “Johnnie” Blake who answered the phone turned out to be a woman. She promised to drive out the next day and take care of the mare. Tess applauded the fact that her new farrier was female, especially since the gray would require some extra-special attention and Tess stubbornly refused to believe that any man could have as big a heart as a woman when it came to needy animals.
Back in the barn, she found the old mare down. Heart in her throat, she watched Doc Baker tend to her with gentle hands and a soft voice. He’d quickly reassured Tess that the horse was fine. She simply suffered from exhaustion and had spent the reserve of her energy for the day. Still, he stayed with the animal for the better part of an hour to be certain she was indeed okay. Before he left, he told Tess not to hesitate to call him in the middle of the night if necessary, blowing her theory of insensitive men all to hell.
Then Macy had ridden over, begging her to give Amber a home. Next had come her argument with Wade Darland.
Twisting the cap off a longneck bottle of Coors Light, Tess leaned back in a kitchen chair, propping her booted feet on its neighbor.
Now, there was a man who was enough to drive any woman to drink. Good-looking as all get out, he nevertheless irritated her beyond words with his attitude. Lord, what was wrong with him? Upsetting poor Macy that way. What did he plan to do? Ship her horse off to the killer? That was likely the only buyer he’d get for a mare in her twenties. The horse was still ridable, but not so fit for speed events anymore. Macy thought Amber was about twenty-three, but she wasn’t sure because the mare wasn’t registered.
Tess took a swig from the longneck, then rose to check on her boiling pasta, sidestepping one of her cats as he laced himself between her ankles with a plaintive meow, begging. “You won’t eat pasta, Champ, and you know it.”
The sound of a truck in her driveway sent her to look through the screen door. Her heart did a dive. Wade Darland climbed from behind the wheel of a battered Ford pickup, his gray hat dusty, his boots scuffed. What did he want now?
The last of the sun’s rays made a backdrop against his shoulders as he headed up the sidewalk. Duke lunged at him, taking a snap at his heels, and Wade shouted. Tess opened the screen and gave a sharp whistle that had all three dogs retreating to the porch. Wade hesitated halfway up the walk, eyeing Duke. At a hundred and five pounds, the shepherd looked like a canine version of Arnold “I’ll be back” Schwarzenegger. Or maybe more of a “make my day” kind of dog, as he showed Wade his teeth and the length of hair rising on the back of his neck.
“You’re okay,” Tess called out. “He won’t bite now.”
Wade appeared skeptical but strode up the walk anyway, then waited while Tess took hold of Duke’s collar before coming all the way up the steps. “Be nice, Duke,” she said.
“Duke?” Wade raised one eyebrow. “You’ve been watching too many John Wayne movies, Tess.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “All right. Maybe I deserved that one.” She nodded toward the screen door. “Go on in.” Only after he was safely inside did she let loose of Duke’s collar. “So what’s up?” she asked, closing the screen behind her. “Did you come here to lecture me on the evils of horse rescue, or were you planning to drive splinters under my nails until I agreed to give up my quest?”
He glared at her. “That’s a fine way to treat a neighbor, Tess.” He nodded at the beer. “Got another one of those?”
She huffed out a noise that let him know she found his manners sorely lacking, then opened the fridge and extracted a longneck. On the stove, the pasta boiled wildly. She checked it and found it almost ready.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Yeah. I feed my kids every Wednesday, whether they need it or not.”
Tess turned and shot him a glare, only to find him grinning at her behind her back. The tension in her neck eased, and she allowed herself to return his smile, but only briefly. She couldn’t let his looks disarm her.
“So, why did you come out here?” she asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer.
“I wanted to clear up a couple of things,” he said, taking a pull from the beer bottle. Tess watched his long, strong fingers curl around it, noticed the way his lips covered the brown glass as though he were about to kiss it…and licked her own. He was enough for her to indulge in a fantasy. Enough to make her stupid.
Again, she dragged her thoughts from that direction. Who needed a man, anyhow?
“Clear away,” she said, turning to dump the pasta into the strainer, not caring if it was completely cooked or not. She topped it with broccoli and some chunks of jack and sat down at the table, gesturing Wade toward a chair. “Sure you’re not hungry?”
He scooted out the chair, revealing her black cat, Inky, who lay curled on the cushion. The cat gave Wade an indignant stare at having been moved from his resting place, not offering to budge from his perch. Unceremoniously, Wade lifted Inky from the cushion and set him on the floor, the expression on his face telling her all she needed to know of his opinion on cats. One she’d already heard from Macy. Tess glared at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.
He eyed her plate. “You call that a meal? Where’s the meat?”
“Where it’s supposed to be,” she said. “On the hoof, not in the freezer.”
“Oh.” He laughed. “Oh-ho-ho, I might’ve known. A vegetarian.” He said it as though being a vegetarian was a felony. She supposed to a cattle rancher, it might as well be.
Narrowing her eyes, she poked a broccoli floret with the tines of her fork. Pretending it was Wade’s fat head. Arrogant jerk. What kind of man didn’t like cats? “What’s it to you, Darland?”
“Darlin’?” He raised his eyebrows and shot her a grin. “And here I thought you didn’t like me.”
Tess felt her lips twitch in a near smile. “You know that’s not what I said.” Then she stabbed another piece of broccoli. How did he do that to her? Make her anger run hot, then ooze away, cold, as though he’d dumped a bucket of chilled honey on it.
“Does your daddy know you’re a traitor?”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s right. He supports the cattle and sheep ranchers around here, keeping their livestock in grain products. And all the while you’re shunning meat, eating vegetables like some do-good yuppie.”
Tess let her mouth fall open. She couldn’t help it, and was glad for the fact that she’d already swallowed her bite of ziti. “In the first place, I’m sure my dad is quite aware of my meal preferences. And in the second, I can’t believe you’re sitting in my kitchen, drinking my beer and throwing insults at me! Maybe I ought to call Duke in here.”
“Won’t be necessary,” he said. “I’m not staying any longer than it takes to tell you what’s on my mind.” He set the beer down and leaned forward in his chair. “It’s about Macy.”
Immediately, Tess sobered. Had he punished her when they’d gotten home? Had the child retaliated in some way?
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine, no thanks to you.”
“Oh, pardon me, Mr. Beef-eating Rancher, but I wasn’t the one who threatened to sell her mare to the glue factory.”
“I never threatened anything.” Wade’s scowl was back, darkening his hazel eyes to a stormy near green. “I simply tried to get Macy to see the sensible side of things and— Oh, what am I trying to explain it to you for? You sure don’t get it.”
“No, Wade, I think you’re the one who doesn’t get it. You’re breaking your daughter’s heart. What would it hurt you to let her keep the horse? You’ve got about five zillion acres between you and your old man, yet you can’t find room for one retired mare?”
He made a huffing sound. “Dad’s not ranching anymore. He sold most of his place to some developers last month so they could subdivide it and make more room for yuppies to move into this valley.” He glared at her as though she were personally responsible.
“Well, don’t look at me. I’m against all the development happening, but what are you going to do to stop it?” The question was a rhetorical one.
“Imagine that.” Wade drew back, startling her with his smile. He raised his beer in toast. “We actually have something in common, Miss Veggie.”
“Don’t call me that.” Tess scowled at him, then shook her head and gave in to the laugh that bubbled up inside her. She raised her own beer bottle, clinked it against his, then sobered. “But really, Wade. You can’t sell Macy’s horse.”
“I already know that.”
She’d been prepared to argue further. His agreement took her by surprise. “You do?”
“Yeah, I do. I didn’t realize I’d upset Macy that much.” He shook his head. “She sure doesn’t think things through the way her mama did. Anyway, that’s one of the things I came to tell you. The other one is, you’re not to interfere with my daughter anymore. You’re her 4-H leader, not her mother.”
“As though I’d want to be, since that would mean being married to you.” She wasn’t quite sure where that comment had come from. Actually, she’d love to be Macy’s mom…if only she did indeed come without her dad.
Wade looked stunned by her words. “Well, I reckon there’s not much danger in that,” he said. He downed the rest of the Coors Light and set the bottle on the countertop. “I’d throw that away, but I imagine you’d like to recycle it,” he said. His posture and manner of speech reminded her of Woody Harrelson in the movie The Cowboy Way. Just as much class, she thought with sarcasm. Even more good looks, she admitted reluctantly. And twice as much trouble.
That, she was sure of.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, crossing her arms as she got up from the table. “Maybe I’d rather see if it will break over your thick skull.” She flashed him a mock smile.
To her surprise, he laughed. “I do like your spunk, Miss Tess Vega,” he said. He pointed a forefinger. “Just remember. You’re Macy’s 4-H leader, and that’s all.” He tipped his hat. “’Night, spitfire.”
“Good night yourself,” she said to his departing back. “Jackass.”

HER PHONE RANG in the middle of the night, and for a minute Tess thought it was the alarm clock. Disoriented, she sat up in bed, then scrambled from beneath the covers to answer.
“Hello?” Heart pounding, Tess realized it was 3:45 a.m.
Her mother.
Please, no.
“Tess, it’s Joy Isley. I’m so sorry to wake you at such an ungodly hour, but we’ve got some horses loose out here, and you were the first person who came to mind.”
Shaky with relief, Tess ran a hand through her rumpled hair. “It’s okay. Where are they?”
“They’ve raced up my driveway from the road, and they keep circling the yard and outbuildings. My dog’s barking woke me up. There’re three of them—the horses, that is. I was going to pen them and call the sheriff later, but I can’t catch them. Bobby’s trying to keep them from running back out on the road. I’m really not all that good with horses. Shoot, maybe I should’ve just called the sheriff and not bothered you.”
“No, it’s no bother, Joy. I’ll be right there.”
Tess hung up the phone and hurried to the bathroom. She splashed some water on her face to help her wake up and ran a comb through her hair. Minutes later, she was dressed and heading down the road toward the Isleys’ place with a bucketful of grain and three halters and lead ropes. A single mother, Joy was a regular at the feed store. Her son, Bobby, raised rabbits and pygmy goats. Tess doubted their pens could hold a horse.
A short time later, she pulled her truck into Joy’s driveway, carefully bypassing twelve-year-old Bobby, who stood in the glare of the headlights, waving his arms anytime the stray horses drew near. Tess angled her truck across the driveway to help block their path and climbed out. She didn’t recognize any of the geldings. Two sorrels and a bay, they bore no distinctive markings or brands to differentiate them from the dozens of other horses Tess saw daily in neighboring pastures.
Excited by their strange surroundings, along with the darkness, wind and the bleating goats, the geldings raced in circles, threading their way between outbuildings and the house. One managed to escape onto the road, nearly running over Bobby in the process. Tess gathered two lariats from her truck and strung them from the pickup’s mirrors to the fence posts on either side of the driveway, foiling the escape attempt of the remaining geldings.
Wishing for her team-penning mare, she gave chase on foot after the bay, shaking the grain bucket in his wake. Once he realized his buddies weren’t joining him in his wild escapade, the horse circled back. All three horses bugled loud whinnies into the early-morning air, snorting and running until their coats were damp with sweat. By the time she managed to catch them and help Joy lock them inside some makeshift stalls in the barn, it was after five-thirty.
“I’ll place some calls and see if I can track down the owners,” Tess promised. “Maybe Dad will have an idea who they belong to.”
“Thanks so much, Tess,” Joy said. “I’ve got to go to work, but if you need help with the calls, I can do some on my lunch break.”
“It’s okay. I’ll phone you later and let you know what’s going on.” Tired, eyes burning, Tess undid the ropes from the fence posts and tucked them back behind the seat of her truck once more before driving away. She started to head home, then decided she might as well grab a bite of breakfast on her way through town. Why not? Ferguson lay halfway between Joy’s place and her own.
Yawning, Tess pulled into the parking lot of Audrey’s Café. The cowbell on the door clanged as she entered, but accustomed to the sound, no one looked up.
No one, that is, except Wade Darland.
To Tess’s surprise, he sat at a table with Macy and Jason. She hadn’t noticed his truck in the parking lot, but at any rate, she never would have figured him for the sort of father who would take his kids out to breakfast on a school day. He looked at her in a way that suddenly made Tess aware that her barely combed hair was stuffed under a ratty ball cap.
In a way that also made her notice he was even better-looking than she’d remembered.
Oh, brother.
She really needed to go home, go back to bed and start this day all over.

CHAPTER THREE
WADE NEARLY CHOKED on a piece of bacon when he glanced up and saw Tess walk into the café. He couldn’t believe that he’d run into her again so soon after their little talk last night. Had she seen him driving through town and followed him?
The expression on her face quickly dispelled that notion. She hesitated at the door, as though unsure whether to wave or simply take a seat. Her gaze scanned the crowded room, and she frowned when she saw that nearly all the tables were full. Before he could decide if he wanted to wave at her, Macy took matters out of his hands.
“Tess!” she called, motioning. “Over here.”
“Macy, I don’t think—”
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Jason grinned around a mouthful of blueberry pancakes. “Don’t you want her to sit with us?” The teasing spark in his son’s eyes said he was enjoying the opportunity to give his old dad a hard time.
“I don’t care one way or the other,” Wade said, ignoring Jason’s smirk as Tess approached the table.
“Hi, Macy,” she said. “Jason.” Then she turned to him. “I’m surprised to see you out and about today.”
“Why’s that?” Wade cut a slice of pancake with the side of his fork.
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be here on a school day.”
“Why not?” He slid the pancake into his mouth and chewed deliberately, letting her squirm, though he’d pretty well figured what she meant. She didn’t consider him the sort of dad who would go to the trouble of waking up extra early to take his kids out to breakfast on a morning when getting ready for school was hectic enough in itself.
But before Tess could reply, Jason spoke up. “It’s $1.99 pancake day. Dad says it’s smart to take advantage of such a good deal.”
Wade squirmed. That made him sound cheap, but dang it, a single father had to cut corners wherever he could.
“It’s $3.50 if you get a side of bacon,” Macy added. Then she grinned. “But I guess you don’t have to worry about that, huh, Tess?”
“No, I guess not.” Tess folded her hands over the back of the empty chair next to Wade. “Mind if I sit down?”
“Go right ahead.” He gestured with his fork, feeling a little guilty for not having offered before she could ask. But only a little. He really didn’t relish the idea of sharing with Tess Vega his weekly morning out with the kids.
The waitress spotted Tess and hurried over. “What can I get for you, hon? Today’s our $1.99 pancake special. All you can eat.” She nodded toward the buffet table centered in the room. “Bacon or sausage is extra.”
“Just the pancakes will be fine. And a glass of orange juice, please.” Tess smiled, and Wade noticed she had dimples.
Well, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed them before. It was just that he’d never paid attention to how cute they made her look. He grimaced inwardly. Cute. Tess was that, all right, in an immature sort of way. Today her braids were gone, but it didn’t much matter. She’d crammed a ball cap over her hair, which looked as though it hadn’t seen much time with a comb of late, and she wore her usual bib overalls with a blue tank top underneath.
He’d just begun to study the freckles sprinkled across her nose when she turned and caught him staring. Quickly, he averted his gaze and focused once more on his breakfast. He said the first thing that came to mind. “So, what are you doing out and about so early?”
“I got a call from Joy Isley this morning. She had some stray horses wander onto her place.” Tess described the geldings. “Any idea who they might belong to?”
Wade shrugged. “Beats me. A lot of folks have bays and sorrels. Why don’t you ask your dad?”
“I intend to, and Doc Baker, as well. I just thought you might know.” She took a drink from the glass of water the waitress had set in front of her. “But, of course, I forgot that horses are simply working animals to you. I doubt you’d ever see the individuality in one.”
Wade sipped his milk, giving himself a minute to do the mental ten-count thing. It was too early in the morning to be arguing with a redheaded woman who was suddenly doing funny things to his stomach and his head. “Now, there’s where you’d be wrong,” he said, setting his glass back on the table.
“Oh?”
“That’s right, Miss Smarty-Pants horse rescuer. I’ve owned plenty of horses with what I’d say was individual personality in my time.”
“Really?” Fighting a smile, Tess braced her elbows on the table and leaned her chin on laced fingers. “Tell me about them.”
“Let’s see.” He poured more maple syrup over his pancakes, which seemed to suck the stuff up like sponges. “There was Winchester…”
“No, Dad, tell her about Ace.” Jason smiled broadly at Tess. “He saved Dad’s life.”
“No kidding?” Tess drew back, looking impressed.
Wade felt his face warm. He didn’t like to think about that day he’d fallen through the ice. He’d been a dumb kid, not listening to his dad.
He eyed the empty place in front of Tess. “Don’t you want to get some pancakes?”
“In a minute. First I want to hear about your hero horse.” She waved her hand in a hurry-up gesture. “Go ahead.”
Wade told her about Ace, the six-year-old black gelding that had been his father’s best working ranch horse. One winter, when Wade was ten, he’d decided to try his hand at ice fishing. There was a huge pond, almost lake size, in one of the pastures not far from the house. Fed by the river, it was a great place to catch trout, and Wade had decided his dad’s warnings of the dangers of thin ice were not warranted.
A freak warming trend in January had left the ground thawing, the ice beginning to melt. But he’d been certain it was thick enough to hold him, and had sneaked away while his dad was busy splitting firewood. As he used a saw to cut a hole in the ice, it cracked around him, and he fell through into the frigid water.
Ace was one of the horses on pasture in the enclosure around the pond. When Tom Darland looked up from his task to see his best horse running in circles, snorting, eyes fixed on the pond, he’d known something was amiss. Tom trusted the gelding’s sharp senses.
“Dad ducked through the fence and spotted me before he was halfway across the pasture. He yelled for a ranch hand who happened to be riding in from mending fence.” Wade glanced at Tess and saw her deep green eyes focused on him raptly.
He nearly forgot where he was in his story.
“Tell her about the rope,” Jason encouraged.
“My dad’s quite a hand with a lariat,” Wade went on. “Which was lucky for me. He grabbed that cowboy’s rope and ran for the pond. Threw a loop around me and hauled me in. I was dang near froze to death.”
“Dad didn’t get a spanking, though,” Macy added. “Even though Grandma Darland thought he ought to. Grandpa said being half-frozen was punishment enough.”
“But he never tried to ice fish again,” Jason finished. “And Ace became the hero of the Bar D.”
“Wow.” Tess sat up straight in her chair and eyed him. “Who would’ve known? So you cowboys don’t always think of ranch horses as just working animals, right?” She held his gaze, eyes full of feigned innocence.
Wade shifted in his chair. “Well. Mostly we do. But Ace was special.”
“Whatever happened to him?”
“Uh—he’s still around.”
“You mean you didn’t take him to the sale barn?”
“No. He wasn’t my horse to sell.”
“And your dad didn’t take him, either?”
He could see the corners of her mouth begin to quirk with amusement, and from the way her eyes sparkled, he could tell she was trying her best not to break out in a full-fledged grin.
Busted. “No, actually, he didn’t.”
“’Course not.” Jason turned to Tess. “Grandpa sold off most of the Bar D, but he still has Ace. He’s twenty-nine years old now. The horse, not Grandpa.” He grinned.
Tess laughed. “I’m impressed.” She scooted her chair back. “Let me get some of those pancakes, then you can tell me about Winchester.”

A SHORT WHILE LATER, Macy and Jason headed out the door to walk to school with their friends who lived in town. Ferguson Riverside, which went from kindergarten to grade eight, was only a mile from the café, and Thursday was the one day Macy and Jason didn’t have to ride the bus.
Wade knew he should leave, too, and get to his chores. But as he and Tess settled into talking about various horses and other things he’d begun to enjoy his conversation with her. He discovered that she’d agreed to take on Macy’s 4-H group because it was a “horse only” club. None of the kids in the group raised meat animals, such as sheep, steers or hogs. Before Wade could have a chance to let that comment rile him, the conversation led to one that had him even more up in arms.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” Tess said. She pushed her empty plate away and cupped her glass of orange juice. “If you’re unable to buy Tess a new barrel-racing horse right now, why not look into adopting one from the sanctuary? The fee is minimal.”
Wade bristled. Who was she to determine what he could and couldn’t afford to buy? That her statement was true didn’t make him feel any better.
“Who says I can’t buy one?”
Tess raised her eyebrows. “Then you were trying to get Macy to sell Amber only because you don’t want an old horse around anymore?”
He scowled at her and opened his mouth to explain it all again, then shook his head. “I told you before—it’s none of your concern.”
She held up a hand in surrender. “Okay. You’re right. I didn’t mean to be nosy. It’s just that all my rescue cases aren’t necessarily crippled and old. I frequently get an animal that’s suffered from malnutrition or abandonment, nothing else. As a matter of fact, my own mare was a rescue animal. I’d be happy to adopt a horse out to Macy the next time I run across one that might be suitable for 4-H.” She frowned back at him. “That’s all I meant, Wade, so you can just tamp down your male pride and smooth your feathers. There’s no reason to be so pigheaded.”
He let out a huff of air, then scooted his chair away from the table. “I’m hardly the one who’s pigheaded, Tess. Look, it was nice having breakfast with you, but I’ve got work to do.” He scooped up the check for his and the kids’ meals, then reached for the one the waitress had laid near Tess’s elbow. Before she could protest, he held up one hand. “I’ve got it.” He touched the brim of his hat. “See ya around.”
“Thanks,” Tess said dryly.
Ignoring her, he walked to the cash register to pay. He did his best not to look back at her over his shoulder. For a whole minute.
Unable to resist, Wade cast a casual glance toward their table. Tess hadn’t wasted any time in leaving. The cowbell clanged as she closed the door behind her. But not before he saw her watching him, as well. Quickly, he averted his gaze, paid the tab and strode outside. He’d parked on the street near Audrey’s. In the parking lot, Tess sat behind the wheel of her Dodge truck.
He expected to hear the engine crank over. Instead, the small ticking of a bad starter reached his ears. Tess’s lips moved as she mumbled in frustration and gave the Ram another shot. Nothing.
Wade walked toward her, telling himself he couldn’t very well drive off and leave her stranded. “Engine trouble?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the door frame above her open window.
She glared at him. “Nope. I just like the view here.” Then she rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. “I think it’s the starter.”
“Can I give you a lift? I was going over to your dad’s feed store, anyway.”
“Actually, that’s not where I was going. At least, not right now.”
“Yeah?”
She hesitated, looking uncomfortable. He wondered briefly if she’d been on her way to see a man. The thought that she had someone in her life hadn’t occurred to him for some reason, which was stupid. Just because he had no social life didn’t mean she wouldn’t.
“I understand,” he said.
She gave him a puzzled frown.
“Hey, if you’ve got someone to meet, it’s okay by me.” He blurted out the words like a high-school boy, then immediately felt foolish. What was he doing? “That is—”
She cut him off. “I’m not exactly meeting someone.” Again, she hesitated. “I thought I’d stop and see my mother before I headed home.”
He stared blankly at her for a moment before what she said registered. Of course. Tess’s mom lived at the County Care Facility. Years ago, he’d heard Raelene Vega was ill, but he’d never paid much attention to town rumors and hadn’t been nosy enough to come right out and ask Lloyd what was wrong with his wife.
“Oh.” He clamped his mouth over the question that now threatened to spill out. It was none of his business. For some reason, though, he suddenly felt compelled to ask.
As if reading his thoughts, Tess spoke. “She has Alzheimer’s. I try to visit her at least twice a week.”
“Oh,” he repeated. “I had no idea. I heard people around town talking about your mom being sick, but I didn’t know…uh…isn’t she a little young to have Alzheimer’s?” He wasn’t really sure how old Rae was. But Lloyd appeared to be about fifty-something, and Raelene would likely be close to his age.
A look of pain crossed Tess’s face, then was gone. “Yes, she is. Mom developed a rare form of the disease when I was a teenager.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He held her gaze, and suddenly, a picture of what Tess’s adolescence must have been like flashed through his mind. A sick mother. A dad on his own. Wade could certainly relate. “I’d be happy to drive you over to see your mom,” he said.
“There’s no need. It’s not that far. I can walk.” She pushed open the door of her pickup and stepped out.
She felt small to his six foot two. The urge to reach down and take the ball cap from her head gripped him as they stood toe to toe. He’d never before seen her hair out of braids. He wondered what it looked like beneath that cap, what it would feel like trailing between his fingers.
Man, those pancakes must’ve weighed down not just his stomach but his mind, as well.
“It’s a good two miles or so,” he argued. “Let me drive you.”
She lifted a shoulder, but he saw the pulse at the base of her throat jump. He wasn’t the only one aware of how close they were standing to each other.
“All right. Thanks.” Tess closed the pickup’s door, leaving the window down. Not many people around town bothered to lock their vehicles.
She walked beside him toward his Ford, and he felt like her date as he held the door for her and gave her a hand up into the four-wheel drive. Her palm felt soft, yet he could detect a row of calluses that told him she worked hard. Her arm was tanned, slender and well formed beneath her tank top, and just a peek of a pale-blue sports bra greeted his view as he let his gaze roam her body.
What would she look like in a pair of Rockies jeans?
Wade shook off the thought. He had to stop it. This was crazy. She was Macy’s 4-H leader, for heaven’s sake.
Letting out a sigh, he moved around to the driver’s side and climbed into the pickup. After firing the engine, he pulled out of the parking lot.
A picture came to mind as he drove toward the County Care Facility. One of Tess as a stubborn child, refusing to eat her hamburger casserole, but gaining points as a good little girl for finishing all her broccoli.
He laughed without fully realizing it.
“What’s so funny?” Tess stared at him, a soft smile on her face. The sort of smile a person has when he or she isn’t sure what the joke is.
Even with her rumpled hair and her tattered ball cap, she was pretty. He found himself picturing her in the Rockies once more.
“Nothing.” He faced forward and concentrated on the road. “Nothing at all.”

THE MINUTE WADE DROVE AWAY toward the County Care Facility, Tess began to wish she hadn’t accepted a ride from him. Would he want to come in with her? Or would he simply be satisfied with dropping her off? She hoped for the latter. Seeing her mother so sick was difficult enough. It wasn’t something she wanted to share with Wade—or anyone else, for that matter. She even found it hard to visit her mom in the company of her own father. The look in his eyes of a haunting, continual loss was usually more than she could bear.
When they pulled up in the CCF parking lot, Tess opened the door before Wade could get any more chivalrous ideas about doing it for her. “Thanks for the ride,” she said, stepping out onto the pavement.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” he offered. “Or wait here for you?”
“Neither. I’ll call Dad to come get me.”
“You sure?” He studied her.
“Uh-huh.” She nodded, feeling a little bad about turning down Wade’s kindness. “Thanks again.” Closing the door, she gave a wave, then quickly turned to head for the building’s front entrance.
The nurses greeted her by name as she entered. Molly, her favorite, smiled and fell into step beside her. She spoke in a husky, nearly gruff voice that belied the tender care she bestowed upon her patients. “I was just getting ready to take your mom a little treat,” she said, indicating the tray in her hand. A small bowl of tapioca pudding rested on it. Her mother’s favorite. Or at least, it had been when she could remember things like that. “She wasn’t real happy with her oatmeal this morning.”
Tess managed a smile. “That’s sweet of you, Molly. I’m sure she’ll like that.” She hesitated. “How’s Mom doing today?” Lately, Raelene’s days went from not so good to worse. Tess wondered how much longer her mother could cling to life, existing this way. The black thought made her stomach churn.
“She’s doing pretty good,” Molly said. Her face creased with sympathy. “I admire the way you come see Rae all the time, hon. She may not really be aware of who you are, but…well, it’s nice that you’re here.”
“I could never abandon her,” Tess said. “She’s my mom.”
Molly nodded, her short, salt-and-pepper curls bobbing. “May God bless you for that, my dear.” Together, they entered the room where Raelene sat in a chair near the window.
“Raelene, look who’s here,” Molly said. “It’s Tess.”
Rae’s face lit up, and she smiled. “Yes.”
Tess’s chest gave a little hitch. For the briefest moment, Rae almost looked normal. But Tess knew better. Rae might recognize her briefly, but in the span of a heartbeat, she’d once more have no idea who Tess was. Where was the justice in that? Why did God allow such things to happen to such a good person?
With no more answer to her question now than she’d had eleven years ago, Tess pasted a smile on her face and walked over to stand beside Rae. “Hi, Mama. How are you today?” Rae held the card Tess had given her for Mother’s Day, twisting it in her hands. The edges were bent and one was torn, but it didn’t matter. As long as Raelene got some enjoyment from it. Tess reached to stroke her mother’s hair, which had once been dark and silky but was now gray and brittle.
“I’ve brought you some pudding,” Molly said. “You want Tess to feed it to you?”
Rae appeared confused. She opened her mouth as though trying to answer. Then she spoke, looking directly at Tess. “Those cows ate my shoes before I brushed my hair.”
“I see,” Tess said, feeling the familiar lump rise in her throat. To know that the sentence made perfect sense to her mom was the hardest. She picked up the pudding and spoon from Molly’s tray.
Molly patted her wrist. “Call me if you need anything, hon.” She left the room, shoes padding softly against the linoleum.
“How about a little pudding, Mama?” Tess scooped a small bite onto the spoon and held it out in offering.
Rae took it, the effort for her to swallow just as great as if she’d been chewing on a chunk of solid food. “I heard you didn’t like your breakfast earlier.”
“Yes.” Rae opened her mouth for another bite of pudding, and Tess knew she’d already forgotten the oatmeal. Rae ate the pudding, then focused on Tess’s face, forehead creased, eyes worried. “I need to put the goats to bed.”
“It’s okay, Mama. They’re already in for the night.”
Rae stared at her. Then suddenly, she slapped the spoon out of Tess’s hand. It bounced against the floor. “No!” She shook her head over and over, arms flailing. The Mother’s Day card fell to her lap, then slid onto the linoleum.
“Mama,” Tess soothed. “It’s all right.” She rose from her chair, knowing she was probably going to have to call for Molly.
“Goats,” Rae insisted, her mind fighting to communicate the words she so desperately needed to speak.
Tess knew she was fixating on a time in the past, when Raelene’s own mother had a herd of Nubians. It had been nine-year-old Rae’s job to make sure they were put up in the barn for the night, safe from coyotes.
Gently, Tess placed her hands on her mother’s shoulders in an effort to still her motions. “The goats are fine, Mama. You did good. You got them in safe for the night.” Eyes burning with unshed tears, she gave her mother a tender squeeze. “I promise.”
Moisture filled the corners of Rae’s eyes, and thankfully, the irritation drained from her like air from a balloon. She slumped briefly in Tess’s arms, then turned to stare out the window, lost once more in her own silent world.
“Mama, do you want any more pudding?” Tess asked, her hands still resting on Rae’s shoulders. “I can get you a clean spoon.”
“Yes.” But the word held no true meaning, and Tess knew the pudding was a lost cause.
She picked up the fallen greeting card and set it on the nightstand, then placed a kiss on top of Rae’s head. “I love you, Mama.” Sniffing, she wiped a stray tear away and managed to hold back the rest. She’d cried so many tears for the unjust disease that had robbed Rae not only of her mind and body, but of her true self.
“I’ll be back soon,” she said.
Rae didn’t answer as Tess walked quietly out the door.

CHAPTER FOUR
TESS ALWAYS LOOKED forward to Thursdays as one of her days for working at home, and even though this one hadn’t started out on quite the right note, at least everything had ended up okay. She’d easily located the owner of the three stray geldings—Darlene Johnson, who lived about a mile and a half from Joy Isley’s place. Darlene had been frantic with worry over her missing horses and had stopped by the feed store to tack a Lost notice up on the bulletin board.
A loose latch on her corral gate had allowed it to blow open in the night, releasing the horses onto the road while she slept, unaware. Lloyd Vega had talked to Darlene prior to driving out to tow Tess’s truck to the family ranch for repairs, and he’d given her Darlene’s phone number. Tess put her in touch with Joy, helped her dad with the Dodge, then had him drop her off at her place. She’d spent the rest of the day at her computer, then done her chores, fixed a bite to eat and climbed into the shower to get ready for her weekly 4-H club meeting.
Now Tess stood under the spray of hot water, looking forward to the meeting, which was the main reason Thursday had recently become her favorite night of the week. She loved kids, and had quickly found that working with her group of 4-H children took the edge off the stress she faced in dealing with other aspects of her life. She spent three days a week, plus alternate Saturdays, at the feed store. On her days off, Thursdays included, she worked in her home office, a spare bedroom in the back of the rental house, where she did bookkeeping for her father’s ranch and feed store, along with other data processing jobs that came in from a temp service in town. Working at home relaxed her and gave her ample time to spend with her rescue horses. It also allowed her to be readily available should her mother need her in any way. Tess found comfort in knowing she could set her own hours and therefore go to Raelene’s side at a moment’s notice.
The only dark spot she could possibly foresee this evening was that Wade, according to Macy, usually drove his kids to 4-H. Having taken over the group just last week, Tess had been in charge of only the one meeting thus far. On that particular evening, Macy had ridden Amber to the arena, where the riding meetings were held. But as Tess chatted with her new group, she learned that Macy’s dad rarely missed 4-H. At the time, she’d found that admirable. She knew Wade was a widower, and she’d thought it nice that he made the effort to attend his kids’ 4-H meetings. Jason belonged to a group that met on Tuesdays, with boys and girls his own age and older. That group had projects that involved meat animals. Absolutely not for Tess.
Still, Tess took joy in seeing the local kids grow through their accomplishments. 4-H was a youth organization in which volunteer leaders like her taught skills that included everything from cooking to animal husbandry. The majority of the kids in Ferguson and its surrounding areas participated in projects that involved the raising and showing of livestock. Horses were very popular, and Tess thoroughly loved working with Macy and the other children.
Climbing from the shower, Tess reached for an oversize mulberry-colored bath towel and wrapped it around her body, then wound a smaller one around her hair. She needed to call Seth, her youngest brother, to see if he’d give her a ride to town. As if on cue, the phone rang. Gripping the bath towel with one hand, Tess hurried to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tess, it’s Macy.”
“Macy, what’s up?” Tucking the phone under her chin, Tess reached to scratch behind the ears of the white cat curled on the back of the couch. Immediately, Champ leaped onto the cushions to vie for Tess’s attention.
“Dad said your truck was broke down. Do you need a ride to 4-H?”
Tess grabbed for the phone as it slipped from beneath her chin. “Your dad offered?”
“Well, sort of. I asked him and he said yes.”
Tess smiled to herself. She could just picture Macy conning Wade into giving her a ride. Sure, he’d offered her one in town today, but it had been the polite thing to do, under the circumstances. Somehow, she couldn’t picture him willingly volunteering to act as her chauffeur.
“That’s really nice of you, Macy, but I was just about to call my brother for a ride.”
“You don’t have to,” Macy insisted. “I mean, we’re going to the meeting anyway. And your house isn’t far from ours.”
“True.” Tess curled the phone cord around her finger, picturing the way Wade had looked that morning in his cowboy hat and faded jeans. He was trouble she didn’t need and didn’t have time for. Still, accepting a ride from him would be handier than bothering Seth. Her brother’s place was five miles away, versus two to the Darland ranch. “Okay, Macy, I’ll take you up on that.”
“Cool! We’ll be there about five forty-five.”
The meeting began at six. “Sounds good. Be sure to tell your dad thanks for me.”
“I will. See ya!” Macy hung up and Tess chuckled.
At their first club meeting, it hadn’t taken long for her to feel truly drawn to Macy. She’d known the little girl from Macy’s occasional visits to the feed store with Wade and Jason, but having her in 4-H had given Tess the opportunity to get better acquainted. Macy was spunky and tough, though she seemed to harbor some hidden feelings about her mother’s death. Tess couldn’t help wanting to reach out to her, and wished Macy would open up and talk about Deidra. Maybe with time.
Tess could tell the kid missed having a woman around. It was why Macy went on and on about Bailey and the things they’d done together over the past year. And Tess was pretty sure it was why Macy seemed to be taking a strong liking to her, as well, which was fine with Tess.
She thought of her own birth mother. Tess had been in kindergarten, Seth in first grade and Zachary in third when their mother had taken off. The despair that had washed over her all those years ago still had a way of working itself into the pit of her stomach now and then. Though Jacqueline Vega hadn’t died, she’d still left Tess feeling orphaned. Lloyd had done his best to fill the empty space his wife had left, yet Tess had plunged into a state of withdrawal, closing herself off from everyone.
The comfort she found in caring for her many pets had cushioned her, and she’d reached out to them, wrapping their presence around her like a cloak. She’d taken to nurturing every stray cat and dog, every fallen bird she could get her hands on, somehow needing to reverse her role from child to caregiver. To act as mother to creatures more innocent and helpless than her.
Lloyd had immediately picked up on what his daughter was doing. With kindness and love, he’d joined Tess in caring for her critters, gradually pulling her from the dark place where her little soul had gone to hide. He called it “getting back her sunshine,” and he’d worked hard to make sure that her emotional needs were properly cared for, as well as those of his two boys.
And then Raelene had come along, and Tess had felt loved twofold as Rae stepped so naturally into the role of mother. Unable to have kids of her own, Raelene rejoiced in her new family and thanked God on a daily basis—out loud, right in front of Tess and her brothers—for the children he had brought into her life.
And that was the reason Tess would never, ever abandon Rae. No matter what. Her mother needed her, and she could think of nothing she’d rather do with her time than be there for the woman who’d stood by her and loved her throughout her childhood. No matter how much Rae’s state of mind deteriorated, nothing could ever take away the bond they’d shared. A bond Tess still clung to.
Shaking her thoughts back to the here and now, Tess readied herself for the 4-H meeting. She dressed in a clean pair of bib overalls and a T-shirt, then combed her damp hair into two braids. Adding a ball cap to her attire, she stepped outside just as she heard Wade’s Ford pull into the driveway.
When she opened the truck’s passenger door and locked eyes with Wade, it was the first time in as long as she could remember that she regretted not having taken more care with her appearance. She’d had little time for dating, what with looking after her mother. Not to mention the awkwardness she’d striven to avoid by not bringing a boy home. She didn’t want anyone, not even her girlfriends, to witness Rae’s deteriorating condition. Ashamed of her attitude now, which had been somewhat self-centered back then, Tess nevertheless still harbored some of those feelings. Only, presently they were on her mother’s behalf. If Tess were been in Raelene’s shoes, she wouldn’t want strangers staring at her, wondering about her disease.
And as far as the opposite sex went, a fling with one of her father’s ranch hands when she was nineteen had left Tess wary of repeating the experience. She simply had better things to do with her time. And fussing with hair and makeup wasn’t one of them.
At least she wasn’t in the disheveled state Wade had caught her in this morning, with her hair barely combed and lack of sleep puffing her eyes. Still, she felt like Cinderella after midnight as she slid onto the seat beside Macy.
Wade was dressed in a white Western shirt with silver metallic threads woven through the material, and shiny pearl snaps. His freshly pressed jeans looked new, and his dark hair seemed neatly combed beneath a black hat that wasn’t at all battered and worn. His feet were encased, not in his usual scuffed Tony Lamas, but in a highly polished pair of round-toed, black cowboy boots with a riding heel. A whiff of sage-scented cologne floated her way across the truck’s interior.
“Wow,” Tess said without thinking. “Where are you going all spiffed up?” Did he have a date? Maybe he planned to drop Macy at 4-H and leave. The idea left a strange, sour feeling in the pit of her stomach, though it shouldn’t have. Wade could spend his time any way he wanted.
“What do you mean—where am I going?” Wade practically growled the words as he put the truck into gear, but a playful look in his eyes diluted the force behind them. “I thought we were picking you up for 4-H.”
Self-consciously, Tess fingered the bill of her ball cap, which read Have You Hugged Your Cat Today? “Yep. That’s right.” Groping for something to ease her discomfort, she shot him a crooked grin. “I just wasn’t aware it was a formal occasion.”
“What, this old thing?” he teased, holding out his arms as he looked the front of his shirt up and down. Then he winked, and Tess’s heart did a crazy little flop.
“Dad,” Macy scolded, giving him a shove. “You know those are new clothes.” She turned smugly toward Tess. “He’s being modest. He doesn’t want to shout the fact that he sold his first saddle today, just one hour—” she held up her forefinger “—after our Web site was up and running.”
“Really?” Tess tilted her head in pleasant surprise. Her dad carried some of Wade’s leatherwork in the store, but she hadn’t been aware he was making saddles.
Wade eased off the clutch, focusing on the road ahead as he pulled from the driveway. He glanced at her. “It took me totally by surprise. The guy e-mailed me and it turned out he lives in Deer Creek.” The neighboring town lay ten miles west of Ferguson. “He drove right out and bought the saddle.”
“Congratulations,” Tess said.
“Dad got enough for the saddle to get each of us new shirts and jeans,” Macy said. Her voice rose with excitement. “And, to put some money away toward a new barrel horse for me! I might be able to get one this summer after all.”
“Say…” Tess drew back in exaggerated admiration. “Now, that is something to celebrate.” She smiled at Macy, then addressed Wade. “You realize her project horse has to be registered with the extension office by June 1, don’t you?” Each 4-H member had to declare in writing which horse they planned to use for the year’s events, which included horse shows and gymkhanas.
The smile he’d worn slipped from Wade’s face, to be replaced by his typical scowl. “I know that.” He stared straight ahead. “I guess she’ll just have to use Amber for another year.”
“If you’re sure,” Tess said, letting him know that she still had a way around that if he wanted to take it. “She can have more than one project horse, you know.”
Now he did glance at her. “I’m aware of that, and yes, I’m sure,” he emphasized.
Tess barely suppressed the urge to stick her tongue out at his profile as he faced the road. “Stubborn,” she muttered.
“What’s that?” he asked. Macy raised her eyebrows and cast a questioning look from one to the other.
“Stubborn…stains.” Tess brushed at a nonexistent spot on her clean overalls. “I always spill when I eat ice cream, and it looks like I’m wearing a spoonful of my dessert.” She reached out to give Macy’s arm an affectionate shake. “How about you, kiddo?”
“Sometimes.” Macy wrinkled her nose.
“Wanna test ourselves? I’m for a banana split after the meeting if you are. My treat.” She glanced at Wade. “You can even bring your grumpy old dad if you want.”
Macy giggled. “Okay by me. Dad?”
“We’ll see.” His scowl darkened, but Tess couldn’t help thinking it was partly an act.
Why on earth was the man so determined to put up a tough front when anyone could plainly see how devoted he was to his kids? Though she had to admit she’d been taken a little by surprise to discover it, Tess also had to admit that this quality in Wade appealed to her. Not that she’d ever want to go out with him or anything. Not really. Her plate was already full enough. Sure, he was good-looking, but still, she knew she’d be better off avoiding him. A tough, arrogant cowboy, he’d made it clear that he didn’t have a whole lot of use for a woman like her in his life. A woman with an independent way of thinking. She was sure he’d prefer a meek little rancher gal who would bake him pies and bread and cook steak and baked beans for supper.
Yep. Tess was positive that if the two of them ever got together, their relationship would read like a romance novel gone bad. The Cattle Rancher and the Runaway Vegetarian. She smothered a giggle.
Minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot at the fairgrounds. A few cars and pickups were already in the lot, and Tess’s attention immediately snagged on one of the 4-H mothers, Sharon Jenkins. Her normally tanned face was devoid of color, and her hands shook as she waved for Tess’s attention.
“What’s wrong with Sharon?” Macy asked.
“I don’t know.” Tess rolled the truck’s window all the way down and leaned against the door frame.
Sharon ran toward her, breathless. “Tess, thank goodness. You’ve got to come with me.” She glanced at Macy. “It’s…urgent.”
Instantly, Tess’s heart dropped. “It’s not one of the kids…?”
“No. Not the kids.” Sharon looked at Wade. “Actually, Wade, we could probably use your help, too. Can Macy stay here with Kelly and Lori?” Kelly was Sharon’s daughter, a year younger than Macy; Lori, Kelly’s best friend.
“Sure,” Wade said. Concern lined his face. “Do you want me to park or drive?”
“Drive,” Sharon said. “My sister-in-law’s here. She’ll take care of the kids for a while.” Pam Jenkins taught agriculture at the high school and often attended the meetings with her family.
Sharon gestured. “Macy, honey, Kelly’s over there. Why don’t you keep her company until we get back.”
“What’s wrong?” Macy asked. She turned to Wade for guidance. “Dad?”
“It’s okay, honey. Run along with Kelly. We’ll be back shortly.”
“Okay.” Reluctantly, Macy climbed from the truck as Tess moved out of her way.
Tess slid once more onto the seat next to Wade, allowing Sharon to climb into the passenger side. The thought that she now sat up close against him barely registered as she focused on what Sharon told them while they drove from the parking lot.
“It’s awful, Tess.” Sharon clamped a hand to her heart. “Kelly and Lori went riding after school today. They stayed at Lori’s afterward, getting their record books squared away. These were the notebooks in which each child recorded every detail of his or her 4-H project. Then they rode back to our house just before supper. When they passed Clem McMurty’s place, the girls heard a scuffle in the round pen.” She ran her hands up and down her arms as though ridding herself of goose bumps.
“That damn Clem had his pretty liver chestnut tied to a post and was beating him! The girls rushed to our house and I called the sheriff’s office right away. A couple of deputies went out there, but when I phoned back to check on what happened they said that the horse had no visible welts—only some vague marks—and that there was not much they could do about it since using a whip on a horse isn’t illegal. They said it wasn’t a clear case of abuse. Can you believe that?” Her dark eyes flashed with anger. “Clem claimed the horse had gotten out of hand and kicked him, and that he had to line him out. Anyway, the girls were really upset and so was I. All of us were worried about the horse.
“I went out there on my way over to the fairgrounds. You can see the round pen from the road.” She looked from Tess to Wade and back again. “The gelding is lying flat on his side, snubbed to a post. He’s not moving.”
“That scumbag!” Tess clenched her hands as her blood pressure peaked. “Wade, hurry!”

ANGER TIGHTENED Wade’s gut as he sped toward the McMurty ranch. While he didn’t believe in coddling horses the way Tess seemed to, neither did he approve of abusing them. When he pulled into the driveway, Tess and Sharon were out of the truck and flying toward the round pen before he could bring the Ford to a complete halt.
Wade parked and walked up the sidewalk to knock on the front door. “Clem!” he called. “It’s Wade Darland.” He rapped with his knuckles once more. No one answered. Descending the steps two at a time, he hurried toward the round pen, more worried about the horse and Tess’s frame of mind than he was about trespassing. He knew she hadn’t given the matter so much as a thought, especially since Ferguson was a small town where neighbors were usually welcome. Not in this situation, however, he’d wager.
Behind him, the sound of the back door finally creaking open reached his ears.
“Who’s out there?” Clem called gruffly.
“Wade Darland, Clem!” Wade repeated, tossing the words over his shoulder. He reached the round pen, and the sight before him sickened him beyond belief. Apparently, Clem had taken his spite out on his horse once the sheriff’s deputies departed.
The liver chestnut lay on his side in the dirt of the enclosure, eyes closed, three of his legs bound with a stout cotton rope. The gelding’s side rose and fell as he drew strained breaths, grunting in pain and resignation. Welts lined his chocolate-colored coat, some of them caked with blood. His head, restrained by a strong nylon halter and rope, was tilted at an awkward angle where he’d fallen while dallied to the post dead centered in the pen. It was a wonder the animal hadn’t broken his neck.
Cursing, Wade ducked through the fence rails and dropped to one knee beside Tess. He laid his hand on the gelding’s neck. The chestnut’s skin was clammy to the touch. Wade cursed again and stood, simultaneously pulling his pocketknife from his jeans.
“Cut him loose!” Anger choked Tess’s voice, and her hands shook.
Wade sliced the rope in a sawing motion, taking care to ease the colt’s head gently to the ground as the rope gave.
“Hey!” From outside the corral, Clem McMurty shouted.
Heavyset, shoulders wide, he moved quicker than one would have expected for a man his size. He had a good seventy pounds on Wade, but Wade had him in height by about three inches. Fists tight, Wade rose and pivoted on the balls of his feet to face Clem as the man roared forward like an enraged bear.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Clem demanded, climbing into the corral. “You’re trespassing. Get away from my horse!”
Wade pressed his mouth into a line, holding his temper with every ounce of restraint he possessed. More than anything, he wanted to haul off and pop Clem in the face. But as satisfying as he knew hitting the jerk would be, he also knew it wasn’t the way to handle the situation.
“I’d say you’re the one who needs to get away from the horse,” Wade told him. His pulse pounded in his ears. “Maybe I ought to tether you to that pole and give you a go-round with a buggy whip so you can see how it feels!”
“You want a piece of me?” Clem’s eyes glowed with anticipation and a smirk pulled his mouth out of shape. He stood knees bent, arms extended, and motioned for Wade to come closer. “Come on, Darland, let’s go.”
Tess’s kick to the seat of his pants took Clem totally by surprise. The sole of her booted foot connected with his backside—none too gently—and he tumbled forward, pitching to the dirt on his hands and knees.
Instantly, Tess was in his face. Bent at the waist, she pressed her nose all but up against his. “You want a piece of someone, try me.” Her voice was calm, level, all the more riveting than if she’d shouted the words. “You lowdown, son-of-a-black-jackal. You want to charge me with trespassing? Why not add assault and battery while you’re at it, you scumbag, pond-sucking jerk.” She moved even closer, her forehead a gnat’s hair away from Clem’s. He’d risen to his knees, and now he lost his balance once more and tumbled backward. He landed on his butt with an “Oomph.”
“Geez, lady, take it easy.” He glared at Tess. “I ain’t gonna fight no woman.” His eyes shot daggers from her to Wade, but Wade could see Tess had taken at least some of the wind out of his sails.
“No,” Tess said, “and you aren’t going to lay one finger on a helpless animal again, either.” She stood over him with booted feet spread and planted, arms crossed. “How much?”
“What?”
“You heard me. How much for the horse? And don’t try to gouge me, or I’ll go ahead and let the sheriff handle this. You and I both know he won’t be leaving with a warning this time.”
Clem looked as though he wanted to protest. He glanced over at the chestnut, who remained lying on his side, though Tess and Sharon had already freed the horse’s legs from the rope.
Sharon spoke, quiet anger lacing her voice. “You don’t have to pay this rattlesnake for anything, Tess. You know when the authorities come out, they’ll take possession of the gelding. You’ll end up with him anyway.”
“She’s right,” Tess said to Clem. “Only, I don’t feel like waiting for the wheels of justice to roll. That horse needs me now, so I’ll ask you again. How much?”
“Oh, I don’t think old Clem wants much at all for this gelding,” Wade said, moving to stand beside Tess. “As a matter of fact, I’m thinking that by the time you figure in the cost of vet bills, feed, et cetera…” He waved a hand in the air, as though calculating. “Why, I’m pretty sure this check ought to cover it.” He slid his checkbook from his pocket and scribbled out a good portion of what he’d gotten for the saddle that day. “I mean, considering the fact that if we do call the sheriff out here, you’re going to be facing a mighty stiff fine besides having your horse taken from you…well, you get my drift, don’t you, Clem?”
Clem’s face turned the shade of a purple cabbage. “Yeah, I get your point,” he said. He stood and dusted off the seat of his pants.
Wade signed the check and tossed it at him. “I trust you’ll call the brand inspector in the morning.” According to Colorado state law, no sale of a horse could be complete without the brand inspector examining the animal. “Oh, and one more thing.” He pointed a finger at Clem’s chest. “If I ever hear so much as a whispered rumor about you treating another animal like this, you’re gonna find out what abuse really means.”
Turning his back on the man, Wade knelt beside the chestnut. The horse’s breathing seemed to be coming closer to normal, but he still made no effort to rise. “Hey, fella,” Wade soothed, stroking the gelding’s neck. “You’re going to be all right.” He looked up, straight into Tess’s eyes. Her expression was a mixture of anger not yet spent and gratitude.
“Thanks,” she said. Then she turned to Sharon. “Would you mind calling Doc Baker? You might have to go to the neighbor’s house.”
“I have a cell phone in the truck,” Wade said.
Sharon nodded and headed in that direction. Clem stomped back to the house and slammed the door without another word.
“Want to help me see if I can get this poor horse to stand?” Tess asked. Her green eyes filled with concern and compassion and Wade’s heart raced. He’d figured her for the type of woman who had spunk, but seeing it firsthand…
“Sure thing.” He stepped up beside the chestnut and took hold of the halter, steadying the gelding’s head as Tess tugged gently but firmly on the severed lead rope.
“Come on, boy,” she coaxed. “You can do it.”
“Up you go, fella,” Wade said. He gave a pull, and between their efforts, the gelding scrambled to his feet and stood looking around, wary, shaken.
“Attaboy,” Tess crooned. Sadly, she petted the horse’s neck, being careful not to touch any of the welts that lined his body. “I still can’t believe anyone could treat an animal this badly. No matter how many cases of abuse and neglect I witness, it never fails to make me sick to my stomach.”
Wade stepped up close to her and tilted her chin with one forefinger. “Remind me never to make you mad,” he said. His pulse skittered, both with the aftermath of his anger at Clem, and with the feelings Tess stirred in him.
She fixed her eyes on his, and he studied the look in them, imagining what it would be like to lower his mouth to hers and brush a kiss across her lips. A kiss that might deepen and turn to something more serious. A stroke of tongue against tongue, Tess’s body pressed against his. Warm and firm…
Wade swallowed. His pulse throbbed in his temples with the finesse of a snare drum, and his brain seemed to have gone numb. He pulled back and lowered his hand, pleased by the flicker of disappointment he thought he saw in Tess’s eyes for a brief moment.
“You saved one more, and I’m betting that’s something that never ceases to make you feel good.” Talk about feeling good, he couldn’t think of a time he’d felt better…and it had nothing to do with the horse.
Tess pursed her lips as though tasting the kiss he’d imagined, and the idea that she possibly shared his fantasy set him on fire all over again. For a moment, he thought she was going to say something to him like Make sure you keep your lips to yourself, cowboy—and your lustful thoughts, too.
Instead, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she reached up to touch her bottom lip in a way that he found sexy. He wanted to grab her wrist and kiss those slender fingers of hers, one at a time. Lord help him. He had to stop this. He cleared his throat and forced his thoughts back to the horse and the conversation at hand. “That’s what drives you to do this work, isn’t it?”
“You’ve got that right, cattleman,” Tess said. Then her smile widened. “Looks like Macy has herself a new horse.”
The full realization of what he’d done hit him. Macy was going to go nuts. Wade grinned. “Looks like.” He continued to eye Tess.
A new horse for Macy. And for him, a bad and definite case of the hots for his daughter’s 4-H leader.

CHAPTER FIVE
MACY WHIMPERED in her sleep.
Her arms and legs felt heavy when she tried to move them. Why wouldn’t they work right? She needed to run. Had to warn her mother of the danger that lay just around the bend.
The train tracks crossed the road above, stretching as far as she could see both ways. In the distance the engine’s whistle blew—a ghostly sound that made her shiver. Fighting to get her arms and legs to work, she moved through the thick grass of the field below the tracks. Her ankles caught in each tuft, toes snagging, causing her to stumble. She had to reach the road in time….
Her mother’s blue car grew closer, headed for the railroad crossing. Macy could see her behind the wheel, though her face wasn’t clear. What she saw in detail was her mother’s hands, knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. She was focused on nothing more than getting home. She seemed unaware of the train.
The car picked up speed. The same car Macy rode in with her mother when they went to the grocery store to pick out cereal and cookies and the big red apples Macy loved. The car she liked so much because it had a huge back seat where she could bounce…up…down…up…while her mother piled bags of groceries all around her until she felt safe and concealed, where she pretended to be a soldier hiding in the jungle of paper and plastic. And the seat belt—when her mother said, “Buckle up, cupcake”—that was really the safety strap that belted her into her fighter jet.
But she wasn’t in the car now, and this wasn’t a game. Macy saw her mother pull up to the railroad crossing and gradually slow. Yes! Macy tried to shout. That’s it. Stop. Just stop, Mommy, please.
She could make out her mom’s long, blond hair, scooped up in a ponytail, just like her own. And then, behind the blue car, a pickup truck came to a halt. Clem McMurty climbed from the truck, his face scrunched and mean-looking. He clenched a buggy whip in one big fist, and he began to snap it in the air as he walked toward her mother’s car. “Go!” he shouted. “Just go.”
No! The word caught in Macy’s throat.
Fearfully, her mother looked over her shoulder at Clem, then back at the railroad tracks. The warning lights began to flash above, bells clanging, hurting Macy’s ears. The black-and-white striped barrier trembled, prepared to lower.
And Mommy stepped on the gas. Sped onto the tracks.
The train whistle blared. The engine was no longer in the distance. It was there. Right there. Bearing down.

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