Texas Heat
Barbara McCauley

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Barbara A., Stephanie, Terry and Jolie. Thanks for making this one so much fun.

Contents

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Prologue

The lawyer’s office smelled of money. Old money. Leather armchairs, dark polished woods, plush hunter green carpet. A bronze statue of a horse and rider, silhouetted by the late-afternoon sun, adorned a tall marble stand and stared solemnly out the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking downtown Midland. Silence dominated the room, except for the soft ticktock of the grandfather clock and a woman’s muffled whimpering.

Four chairs faced the lawyer’s desk. Jake Stone sat in the first, his sister, Jessica, beside him and on the end Myrna Stone, their stepmother. The fourth chair sat conspicuously empty.

Norman Woodard, the lawyer, ran a manicured hand over the silver streak of hair above his left ear, then glanced at the clock. “Mr. Stone, it’s already twenty minutes past the hour. We really can’t—”

“We wait.”

“But—”

Jake lifted his gaze sharply to the man. “I said, we wait.”

Woodard’s lips tightened, but he said nothing.

Jessica laid a hand over Jake’s and he felt the tension slowly ease from his shoulders. His baby sister was no baby anymore, he realized with a note of regret. He could still clearly remember twenty-six years ago, the day his parents had brought her home from the hospital. He’d been only eight at the time, and all he’d seen sticking out of that pink blanket were two huge blue eyes and a crop of shining black hair.

The memory of that day and the happiness in his parents’ eyes brought reality crashing back down. They were both gone. His mother twelve years ago, now J.T. Jake closed his fingers tightly around his sister’s. At least he still had Jessie. Jessie and... He stared at the empty chair.

“Mr. Stone,” the lawyer tried again, “your brother was given sufficient notice of the day and time of this meeting. I suggest we—”

Tipping back his Stetson, Jake straightened in his chair, knowing that his height had intimidated more than one man. “I just buried my father two days ago, then drove three hours for this meeting. I have two hundred head of cattle to feed, fence to ride and a hay trailer with a flat tire. If I can wait—” he settled back in his chair “—then so can you.”

“Mr. Woodard.” Jessica leaned forward, and Jake noticed the weary tone in her voice. “These past few days have been difficult, and I’m afraid we’re all a little tired. I’m sure my brother will be here any minute.”

“Maybe Mr. Woodard is right,” Myrna said, worrying the handkerchief in her hands. “After all, it is getting late.”

Jake turned to his stepmother. A former Miss Houston, she still looked pretty good at fifty-two. Her blue suit hadn’t a wrinkle, nor was one bottle-red hair out of place. Not even a smudge of mascara, though she’d been sniffling and dabbing at her eyes for the past forty-five minutes.

“Maybe Mr. Woodard here,” Jake said, narrowing his eyes, “doesn’t know that flying in from South America isn’t exactly a trip to the corner store. And maybe if you hadn’t insisted on a funeral that took less time than picking up hamburgers at a drive-through, my brother might have made his father’s burial, too.”

Myrna’s jaw went tight at the sarcasm, but she said nothing, just turned away and stared blankly out the window. For once, Jake thought, the woman knew when to quit.

The clock chimed the half hour.

They waited.

He’d show up. Jake knew he would. It didn’t matter that Jared had been gone for three years. It didn’t even matter that he hadn’t been able to make it to the funeral. All that mattered was that when Jake had finally managed to get a hold of his brother in Venezuela, Jared had said he’d be here. And if it meant camping out in this stuffy lawyer’s office until he showed up, then by God, that was what they’d do.

When the three-quarter hour chimed, Mr. Woodard stood. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said curtly, tugging on the jacket of his precision-cut, tailor-made suit, “I’ll go see about having something brought in. Some sandwiches, perhaps, and some drinks—”

“Make mine a rare roast beef” came a deep voice from the back of the room, “and a tall cold beer.”

All heads jerked around at the unexpected order. Jared Stone stood in the doorway, his hand on the knob. His denim jacket was worn, but clean, his thick black hair ruffled as if he’d been in a windstorm. A half smile deepened the creases beside his mouth and his eyes—Stone trademark blue—widened with pleasure as he stared at a brother and sister he hadn’t seen in three years.

Jessica jumped up from her seat and flew at him, pouncing into his arms as she had when she was a child. Laughing, he lifted her, then spun her around. Jake watched, feeling a strange swelling in his chest as he walked toward his brother. He waited for Jared to put Jessica down before he stuck out his hand.

Jared stared at Jake’s hand and his smile slowly faded. The brothers’ eyes met, held for one long moment, then, not knowing who moved first and not caring, slapped their arms around each other in a fierce hug.

Jessica circled her arms around both of them and the three of them stood there, sharing the joy of their reunion and the grief that had made it happen.

“Welcome, Mr. Stone,” Mr. Woodard interrupted the homecoming. “We’re so glad you were able to join us.”

“My flight was canceled twice,” Jared explained, pulling away from his brother and sister. He noticed his stepmother then and walked over to her. “I’m sorry, Myrna. It must be hard for you.”

Myrna’s lip quivered as she hugged Jared. “He was fine when I went to town. I came home four hours later and found him in the garage. His heart...it just—” She choked back a sob and wiped at her eyes with her handkerchief.

“Well, now.” Mr. Woodard cleared his throat. “Since we’re all here, perhaps we can get started.”

Nodding, Jake took his seat. Right now, all he wanted was to be alone with his brother and sister, and the sooner they got this over with, the better.

Jessica sat between him and Jared, and Myrna sidled back into her chair. Mr. Woodard, already seated, leaned forward, his hands folded in front of him. “As you may know, your father—” he looked at Jake, then Myrna “—and your husband, came to me six months ago to have a will drawn.”

“Why you?” Jake asked. “Cactus Flat is a lot closer to Stone Creek than Midland. Why would he drive all this way just to have a will made?”

“Your father was well-known in Cactus Flat,” the lawyer responded. “And because the nature of his requests were somewhat...delicate, he thought it best to seek legal counsel elsewhere.”

Delicate, my behind, Jake thought dryly. There hadn’t been one thing about J.T. that anyone would have called delicate. “If you’re trying to say that small towns talk, why don’t you just spit it out?”

Woodard frowned at the expression. “There was a concern on your father’s part for privacy, Mr. Stone.”

Myrna shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Jessica looked at Jake, then Jared. A heartbeat of silence filled the room like a lead weight.

Jake stared sharply at the lawyer. “Why don’t we just get on with it.”

Nodding, the lawyer straightened his glasses as he lifted the document from its folder.

“‘I, Jeremiah Tobias Stone,’” he began, “‘of Cactus Flat County, Texas, declare that this is my Will and revoke all prior wills and codicils...’” He droned on, “‘...and I name Jake Stone, my eldest son, as Executor of this Will...’”

Eyes narrowed, Myrna turned to Jake, clearly unhappy at J.T.’s choice of an executor. At the mention of her name, she turned back to Woodard.

“‘...to my spouse, Myrna Stone, I leave my home and its furnishings, plus the surrounding three acres.’”

Myrna’s mouth dropped open. Stone Creek was a total of one hundred thousand acres. “But—” She started to protest, but the lawyer moved on.

“‘...to my son Jake Stone I leave the sixty thousand acres that constitutes Stone Creek ranch, including any existing cattle and assets of that property...’”

Stone Creek Ranch. Jake felt his heart slam against his ribs. He had thought for sure Myrna would get the ranch that he’d run for his father for the past twelve years. Jessica took hold of Jake’s hand and squeezed. He knew she understood how important the ranch and Stone Creek were to him.

“But—” Myrna opened her mouth again.

“‘...to my son Jared Stone, I leave a parcel of fifteen thousand acres containing a closed-down oil well, plus any and all oil-drilling equipment on the property...’”

Jake looked at his brother. He sat stiff in his chair, his hand tightly clasped on the arm, staring straight ahead. The oil well. Jared’s oil well. Three years ago, J.T. had taken it away. Now, in his death, he was giving it back.

Myrna clamped her mouth shut. Her gray eyes glistened with anger, but she said nothing.

“‘...and to my daughter, Jessica Stone, I leave fifteen thousand acres that contain the remains of Makeshift, an abandoned town.’”

Stunned, Jessica sat there for a moment, then as she glanced from Jared to Jake, a brilliant smile spread across her face. Jake knew that Jessica had spent half her childhood in the abandoned town. It had been like a giant playhouse for her. What she would do with it now Jake hadn’t a clue, but he had no doubt she’d think of something. In fact, based on the look in her blue eyes, the wheels were already turning.

“What about my husband’s other assets?” Myrna asked expectantly.

Woodard shook his head. “J.T.’s accountant sent me the past three years of financial statements, Mrs. Stone. It seems that all of his cash and liquid assets were drained to remodel his private residence. There’s only a few thousand left, and as stipulated in the will, that money will be equally divided amongst you and his children.”

Jake watched Myrna’s face turn white at the lawyer’s unexpected news. The woman had spent the past ten years building and continuously remodeling a two-story, six-thousand-square-foot monument to herself, and now she had the nerve to sit here and look surprised because there was no more money. If he didn’t feel so damn ticked off about it, he might have actually laughed at the irony of it all.

A sour taste rose in Jake’s throat. It would hardly affect Myrna, anyway. She not only had money from her first husband, but her own father, Carlton Hewitt III, owned half of Houston and was busy trying to buy the rest, as well. What the hell was a few thousand more or less to her, in land or money? Her father had always given her everything she’d wanted. To himself, and to Jared and Jessica, it was the difference between losing Stone Creek or preserving their father’s legacy.

And that, above anything else, was what Jake intended to do.

“Well, then,” Myrna said crisply as she dropped her handkerchief into her purse and snapped it shut, “if that’s all, then—”

“I’m afraid it’s not, Mrs. Stone.” Everyone turned and looked at the lawyer. He appeared slightly uncomfortable. “There’s still one more bequest in the will.”

“To the tune of ten thousand acres, I believe,” Jake said thoughtfully.

Woodard nodded.

“J.T.’s entire family is sitting in this room,” Myrna said sharply. “Who else would my husband leave anything to?”

The lawyer glanced at the document and read, “‘To Emma Victoria Roberts Stone.’” He lifted his gaze as he stared at the Stone children. “J.T.’s nine-year-old daughter.”

No one moved. It seemed as if no one breathed. Her face rigid, Myrna gripped her black leather purse so tightly it creaked. “Mr. Woodard, J.T. and I were married for eleven years. Surely I’d know if he had...that is, if there was an indiscretion of that nature. There must be some mistake.”

“I realize what a shock this must be to you all, but your husband did, in fact, father a child, Mrs. Stone. While he was married to you.”

“A sister?” Jessica whispered, leaning forward in her seat. “We have a sister?”

“Yes, Miss Stone.”

Disbelieving, Jessica glanced at both her brothers, then back to the lawyer. “But...how?”

Jared looked at Jessica and raised a brow. “We’ll talk later.”

Jessica frowned at him. “What I mean is, why didn’t we know? How could he not tell us?”

Woodard adjusted his glasses. “It was only recently that your father himself found out. As of this time, I’m afraid our information on the child is extremely limited. We do know that she’s nine years old, and we believe she’s living in the South somewhere, but that’s about it. Your father hired a private investigator to find her, but unfortunately J.T. passed away before the man could locate the mother or the child. However—” the lawyer looked at Jake “—your father has requested in his will that Jake continue the search.”

Ignoring Myrna’s incredulous look, Jake stared straight ahead. An affair. His father had had an affair.

And I have a new kid sister.

“This is ridiculous.” Myrna’s voice was tight with anger. “Even if there is a child—and I certainly don’t believe there is—what difference does it make now? J.T. is gone. There’s absolutely no reason to look for her.”

Jessica put her hand on Jake’s arm. “Of course we’ll look for her. Won’t we, Jake?”

Jake looked down at his sister. “She’s a Stone, isn’t she?”

Jessica hugged him, knocking off his Stetson.

“Never a dull moment,” Jared said, shaking his head and smiling.

“You sure as hell can say that again,” Jake replied, returning his sister’s hug. “Welcome home, little brother.”

One

The town house was expensive. White wrought iron, beveled windows, shiny brass mailboxes. The taxi slowed, then pulled to a stop in front of a small brick security building nearly engulfed by a creeping vine with pink flowers. The guard behind the polished glass window glanced over his newspaper at the taxi and frowned slightly.

The driver turned to his passenger. “You want me to wait?”

That was a good question, Jake thought. He might be here thirty minutes or thirty seconds. Hell, the woman might not even open the door, in spite of the fact she knew he was coming. It had taken five months after J.T.’s death to track her down, and according to the private investigator, she’d been less than welcoming. Getting her to agree to this meeting had been about as easy as branding a loose steer.

“So how ‘bout it?” The cabbie grew impatient. “You want me to wait or not?”

Jake grabbed the small duffel bag on the floor beside him and shook his head. “I’ll call.”

The guard watched carefully now as Jake paid the fare. It wasn’t as if Jake didn’t understand the man’s concern. This section of Atlanta, Georgia, was much more accustomed to CEOs in tailored suits than a six-foot-four cowboy in a black Stetson and blue jeans.

Hoisting his bag over his shoulder, Jake approached the wary guard. “Afternoon.” He touched the brim of his hat. “I’m looking for number 312, Miss Roberts’s place.”

The man lifted his bushy gray eyebrows and set his paper aside. “And you are?” he asked, pulling out a clipboard.

“Jake Stone.”

The guard scanned his daily list of permitted admittances. “Yes, Mr. Stone. Miss Roberts is expecting you. Second sidewalk, turn left. She’s the third place in.”

He pushed a buzzer and a huge gate opened. Jake stepped inside, then turned to look back when the gate clanked shut behind him. Damn. He felt as if he’d just stepped into prison. What the hell kind of place was this that needed high gates and security guards? No place he’d want his kids to grow up. But then, he thought with a frown, since he had no kids and remarriage was definitely not in his plans, where his children were or weren’t raised was hardly something to consider.

Shaking his head, Jake followed the guard’s directions. Magnolia trees shaded the walkway and bright pink flowers filled the beds. Everywhere he looked was green. A lush deep green that one rarely saw in west Texas. Jake had forgotten there were so many shades of green.

Carolyn, his ex-wife, would have loved this place. The thought made Jake instantly hate it. He wanted out of here, and the sooner, the better.

But he was here for Jessie, Jake reminded himself. He knew that his sister would skin him alive if he didn’t come back with some kind of good news. Even Jared had seemed anxious, Jake recalled, remembering the smile in his younger brother’s eyes when they’d said goodbye at the airport. It had been a long time since Jared had smiled or seemed enthusiastic about anything, and there was nothing Jake wouldn’t do to keep that smile there.

Number 312. Jake stood in front of the door and stared at the shiny brass numbers. A knot began to form in his gut, and though he never would have admitted it, not even to Jessie, a sudden rush of excitement swept through him. Emma Roberts Stone. J.T.’s child.

His sister.

* * *

“Is he really my brother?” Emma asked for at least the third time in the past half hour. “Is he really?”

Savannah pulled a brush through the child’s shining black hair and felt the same twitch in her stomach she’d felt every time her niece asked that question. “We don’t know that for sure, Pecan. That’s why he’s coming over, so we can talk about it.”

“It’s almost time,” Emma said excitedly, twisting her head to glance at the clock. The neat ponytail Savannah had just pulled together disintegrated.

Frowning, Savannah straightened Emma’s head and tried again. “Sweetheart, if you don’t stop fidgeting, we’ll never get your hair done.”

The truth, Savannah realized, was that it was her own shaky hands causing the ponytail’s demise. He’d be here any minute. Any second.

And she was about to tell the biggest lie of her life.

Forget the ponytail. It didn’t matter. But what happened in the next few minutes did matter. More than life itself. Savannah set the brush on the armchair and turned her niece around to face her. Kneeling in front of the child so their eyes met, Savannah touched Emma gently on her cheek.

“Emma, you know I love you more than anything in this world, right?”

Emma nodded, her blue eyes narrowed at the serious tone in her aunt’s voice.

“And you know that before your mommy went away she asked me to watch over you and take care of you, too?”

She nodded again.

“That’s why you need to do as I asked. You’ve got to stay in your room and let me talk to this man first. I need to make sure that he is your brother.”

Emma drew her brows together. “How will you know?”

Savannah brushed the bangs from the child’s face. “You let me worry about that, Pecan.”

“Is he going to want me to go live with him?” Emma asked quietly.

The fear in Emma’s voice had Savannah pulling her niece into her arms. “Do you think I’d ever let anyone take you away from me?”

The child shook her head.

“Of course I wouldn’t. You and I are a team. And I intend to keep it that way.” Savannah tightened her hug. “And don’t you forget it.”

“Okay.” Emma hugged her back.

Smiling reassurance she didn’t feel, Savannah set her niece away from her and looked into her face. “And stay in the bedroom until I tell you to come out.”

“Okay.”

The doorbell chimed and they both jumped.

Savannah’s stomach tightened. She looked anxiously at the door, then back to Emma. “Go on now, sweetie. I’ll let you know when it’s all right to come out.”

Once her niece had left, Savannah took a deep breath and glanced at the window beside the front door. She saw the outline of a tall man through the partially closed blinds. Maybe he’d go away if she didn’t answer. Just give up and go back to Texas. But she knew better. A man didn’t spend months tracking someone down and fly all this way just to turn around and leave. He wasn’t going to give up and he wasn’t going to leave. She had to go through with this. Be done with it now.

He knocked this time. Loudly.

Heart pounding, she moved to the door and opened it.

His black hat was the first thing she noticed about the man, and it struck her how appropriate that seemed. And tall. Good God, he towered over her own five-foot-seven frame, and his denim-clad chest and shoulders filled the doorway.

“Miss...Roberts?”

He did not smile as he stared down at her with intense blue eyes. If anything, he was frowning. She watched as he removed his Stetson, revealing hair dark enough to be considered black and a small jagged scar by his right temple.

No doubt this man would try to use his size and menacing looks to intimidate her, Savannah thought with annoyance. He was probably used to women—and men—taking a step back. Resisting the temptation to do just that, she lifted her eyes and met his gaze squarely.

“Mr. Stone.” She offered her hand to him and he took it, closing his long fingers over hers. A working man’s hand. Large and callused. She felt strength emanate from him. And determination. Two qualities that could make this meeting difficult.

She pulled her hand from his. “Come in, please.”

He dropped his bag on the front porch and stepped inside. His boots sounded heavy on the marble entry. Drawing in a slow, deep breath to steady herself, Savannah closed the door, then gestured to the living room sofa. “Why don’t we talk in here?” she said, moving past him.

Confused, Jake stared after the woman. He thought for a moment he had the wrong place, or maybe she was the one who was confused. But she’d looked right at him with eyes as green as a spring meadow and said his name. She couldn’t be Angela Roberts, he thought, narrowing his eyes.

Could she?

He watched as she walked away. From her tan high heels to the tips of her honey blond hair, she spelled money. And sex appeal. Definitely sex appeal. Her soft Southern accent flowed over him like warm silk and the faint scent of peaches drifted from her creamy white skin. Her legs were long and slender beneath her knee-length beige skirt, her breasts full and round under a long-sleeved white silk blouse.

Jake could understand how J.T. might have been tempted to take this woman to his bed. Lord knew, he certainly was.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and realized he hadn’t moved. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

Something was wrong, he thought, and followed her into the other room. Very wrong.

She sat on a rose-colored high-back chair and he heard the soft whisper of her stockings as she crossed her legs. He sat on the sofa across from her and sank into the cushions. Too soft, he thought almost irritably. And white. He almost laughed at the thought of this sofa in his living room. He’d take his firm leather couch over this silly piece of fluff any day.

Glancing around the room, Jake took in the feminine contents: lace curtains, crystal vase on the glass coffee table filled with fragrant pink flowers. Pastel watercolors of garden cottages. A floor-to-ceiling oak bookcase with hard-bound novels and floral-framed photographs. Based on the town-house exterior, everything on the inside was exactly as Jake would have imagined. He looked at the woman sitting across from him. Well, almost everything.

Savannah didn’t like the way Jake Stone was staring at her. Scowling was a more appropriate word. She’d heard that cowboys were the silent type, but this was ridiculous. Other than her name, he hadn’t said one word to her. And though she’d already acknowledged that the man had a rugged appeal, she was beginning to wonder if perhaps he’d been kicked by one too many horses.

“Mr. Stone,” she said curtly, “could we please dispense with the amenities and get right to the point of your visit? I have an appointment in a little while and I’m afraid I haven’t much time.”

Jake’s frown deepened. He’d nearly drained what was left of his savings to buy a plane ticket, left two hundred head of cattle and spent an entire day traveling just to get here, and she hadn’t much time? He’d promised Jessie he wouldn’t lose his temper no matter what, but this woman was sorely trying his patience.

“I believe Samuels Investigating has already explained in detail why I’m here, Miss Roberts,” he said dryly. “But just in case there’s some confusion on your part, I’ll explain again. I’m here to meet my sister.”

Savannah refused to even blink as she stared back at Jake. “And what exactly makes you think Emma is your sister?”

She was cool, aloof even, and except for the tightening of her fingers around the arm of her chair, Jake would have thought her bored. There was something going on under that enticing skin of hers, he realized, and though the idea of exploring that territory appealed to him on a physical level, logic refused to give him more than a passing fantasy.

“Nine years ago you had an affair with my father, J.T. Stone. You disappeared and, according to hospital records uncovered by the P.I., you had a baby seven months later.”

She lifted her chin. “That hardly proves your father is responsible.”

Jake raised one eyebrow. “Are you saying you were sleeping with two men at the same time?”

Savannah felt her neck, then her cheeks, grow hot. She’d known this was going to be difficult, but she hadn’t counted on Jake Stone being so blunt. Damn the man! “Nine years is a long time, Mr. Stone. Whatever happened then has no bearing on now.”

The white silk blouse she wore contrasted sharply with the blush on her face, and her reaction to his question surprised Jake. He wouldn’t have thought a question of standards would have bothered her. “What did happen?”

It wasn’t so much the question he asked as the way he asked it that made Savannah nervous. He was suspicious, she knew it. And she wished to God she could answer him, but the truth was, she didn’t know what had happened. Not once in nine years had Angela even hinted at Emma’s parentage or the circumstances behind it. With both J.T. and Angela gone, perhaps no one would ever know for sure. “It was just one of those...situations,” she said carefully. “There was no reason to burden your father with my...condition.”

He was quiet for a moment, as if assessing her and her answer. “Did you love him?” he finally asked.

“I love Emma,” she answered quickly, perhaps too quickly. “That’s all that matters now. She and I are very happy with the way things are.”

She followed his gaze as he looked around the room. “Things appear to be very good, Miss Roberts. Do you have a...roommate?”

Savannah bristled at the implication in his sarcastic tone. She realized an expensive town house like this one would be difficult for most single women to maintain. Lord knew, she never would have been able to afford it on her teacher’s salary, but for Angela it had been no problem. The lease was paid up for another four months; then Savannah knew she’d have to move to a smaller place.

“No, Mr. Stone, I don’t have a roommate. I don’t need or want one.”

He raised one brow, and when his gaze settled on the hairbrush she’d left lying on the armchair, his eyes narrowed. “And Emma,” he said, staring thoughtfully at the brush, “what about her?”

Savannah gritted her teeth at Jake’s question, but if answering a few questions would get rid of the man, then she was happy to oblige. “She attends a prestigious private girl’s school, has piano lessons every Tuesday and soccer on Saturdays. Other than an occasional argument over eating spinach or picking up her dirty clothes, the two of us get along beautifully.”

Jake rested his arms across the back of the couch. His gaze dropped to her left hand. “So you never married.”

“No.”

“And Emma doesn’t know who her father is.”

Savannah’s jaw tightened. “It wasn’t necessary.”

“Is that your answer or Emma’s?”

Savannah felt as if a band were cinching around her chest, squeezing the breath from her. “I asked you before what you want with us, Mr. Stone. I’ll ask you that again.”

“And I’ll answer you again. I’m here to meet Emma.”

“And if I agree, then what?”

“She’s my sister. The Stone family never walks away from one of their own.”

Panic filled Savannah at Jake’s comment. What was he saying? That he wanted to take Emma? She’d never let that happen. Never. She’d run so far the Stone family would never find her or Emma.

Shoulders stiff, Savannah stood and faced Jake. “Why you think you have the right to waltz in here and make demands is beyond me, but as far as I’m concerned, this conversation is through. I think you better leave, Mr. Stone.”

He didn’t budge. Instead, he slowly let his gaze scan her, starting at her legs, hesitating at her breasts, then finally resting on her face. The perusal was long and detailed, and as furious as it made her, Savannah also felt a hot swirl low in her stomach. Clenching her fists, she started to turn toward the front door.

“How old are you, Miss Roberts?”

She went still at his question, then slowly turned back to face him. “Excuse me?’

“I said—” Jake stood “—how old are you?”

Savannah nervously brushed her hair back from her face. “What business is that of yours?”

“I would guess you’re around twenty-five or -six.”

She said nothing, just stared at him.

“And that would make you about sixteen or seventeen when you had an affair with my father.”

Dammit, dammit! There’d been too many years separating her and Angela. Savannah had tried to look older. Conservative clothes and extra makeup. Obviously she’d underestimated Jake Stone.

“I look younger than I am,” she said truthfully. She was twenty-seven.

He kept his eyes on her. “What was my father’s first name?”

Savannah felt her throat go dry. “J.T., of course.”

Impatience twitched at the corner of his mouth. “What was his first name?”

How could she possibly know that? Angela had never wanted anyone to know who Emma’s father was. If the private investigator hadn’t called, Savannah never would have known his name at all. “He didn’t tell me.”

Jake stared sharply down at her. “You supposedly slept with my father and had his child, but you don’t know his first name?”

It was only there for a split second, but Jake saw the fear in the woman’s eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by icy indifference. Lifting her shoulders, she turned stiffly away from him.

“I’ll show you out, Mr. Stone.”

His hand snaked out, catching her by the elbow and holding her fast. “What the hell kind of a game are you playing?”

She stared down coolly at his hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you don’t let go of me and leave right now, I’m going to scream.”

He held fast. “Go ahead and scream. Then if I have to bring in a lawyer, we can find out who you really are and why you’re lying.”

At the mention of a lawyer, she went still. Her frightened gaze darted to his, then, with a long sigh, she closed her eyes. “You don’t understand,” she said quietly.

“You’re damn right I don’t understand. But if you think you can put me off while you figure out a way to get your hands on the land, then you’re sadly mistaken. There’s no way I’m going to stand around and watch while you or anyone else sells off even one foot of Stone Creek.”

She looked genuinely confused. “Land? What are you—”

Jake wasn’t sure what suddenly caught his attention, a soft cry, or a movement at the hall doorway, but he turned then and saw her. A little girl. Her long hair shone dark as a Texas night, and her eyes, filled now with tears, were as blue as cornflowers.

His heart lurched. He stared at the child and knew without a doubt it was Emma. And he also knew without a doubt that she was J.T.’s daughter. The resemblance was uncanny. The little girl was Jessica’s clone, right down to the slight cleft in the chin and pert nose. Amazed, he loosened his grip on the woman, but didn’t let go. She turned then and saw the child.

“Emma!” She jerked out of his hold and moved across the room to the little girl. “I told you to stay in your room.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Savannah, but I heard somebody yell,” Emma said in a tiny shaky voice.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry if we scared you,” Savannah said softly, and took hold of Emma’s hand. “We really didn’t mean to speak so loud.” She turned and sent Jake a piercing look. “Did we, Mr. Stone?”

Jake felt an instant pang of guilt. He was the only one who had raised his voice. Well, hell, he thought, shifting uncomfortably, how was he supposed to know the kid was in the other room?

Jake moved closer to the woman and child, but was careful to keep his distance. “I’m sorry, too, Emma,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. “Your aunt Savannah and I were just talking about a few things.”

Emma folded herself against Savannah’s hip. “About me?”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

“Are you my brother?” Emma asked, her eyes wide as she stared up at Jake.

Jake looked at Emma, then at the woman the child clung to. “Yes.”

Savannah slid a protective hand around Emma’s shoulders. “You don’t—”

“My name is Jake,” he said, “and I have a picture of Jessica, your older sister. Would you like to see it?”

The child’s eyes grew even wider. “I have a sister, too?” she asked softly.

“And another brother named Jared,” Jake added, pulling a picture from his wallet and handing it to Emma.

“She looks like me!” Emma cried. “Look, Aunt Savannah. My sister, Jessica, looks just like me.”

With trembling fingers, Savannah took the picture from her niece, wanting desperately for the child to be wrong. Her heart sank as she stared at the photograph. Though faded from what appeared to be several years in a wallet, there was no mistaking the incredible resemblance between Emma and this woman Jessica.

And no denying the truth.

“Isn’t it neat?” Emma looked up at her aunt. “We thought we didn’t have any family. Now we have lots!”

Savannah watched Jake’s brow furrow at Emma’s announcement. Slowly he turned his gaze to meet hers, questioning.

“Yes, Emma, it’s...neat.” Savannah handed the picture back to Jake. “But they aren’t my family, sweetheart, just yours.”

“But they have to be yours if they’re mine,” Emma protested.

“I’ll explain later, Pecan.” Savannah knelt in front of Emma and pushed the hair away from her cherubic face. “But right now I need to speak to...Jake for a few minutes alone. Okay?”

Emma hesitated, and Jake bent close to her, his face almost level with hers. “I promise I won’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Jake watched as Emma nodded, then walked down the hall, her eyes downcast. At the sound of the bedroom door closing, Savannah moved away from Jake and stepped toward a sliding glass door that led to a small patio. She stood there, arms folded, and stared out at the potted ferns and azaleas. The door was open a few inches and the lace curtains billowed softly in the cool breeze.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked tersely, moving behind her.

Her shoulders tightened, but she did not turn around. “Emma is my niece,” she said quietly. “Angela is...was, my sister.”

Was? Jake frowned, letting the impact of Savannah’s words settle. He waited silently for her to continue.

“Our parents were killed five years ago in a car accident,” she went on. “We have no other family, so Emma always stayed with me when Angela was out of town on business. I loved having her, and because I teach at St. Mary’s Academy here in Atlanta where Emma is in the fourth grade, it was also convenient.”

Savannah’s hand reached out to smooth the lace curtain, and as she did so, the breeze carried the sound of tinkling wind chimes from the patio outside.

“Go on,” he encouraged when she hesitated.

She drew in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Angela had just received an award for her design of a contemporary art museum in Florida. She’d been gone four days and was anxious to get home. When her flight was canceled, she chartered a private plane to fly her home.”

Savannah turned, and though she looked directly at Jake, he realized she didn’t really see him. “Her birthday was last week. She would have been forty-three.”

Jake felt his gut tighten. Children needed a mother. And a father. At nine years old, Emma had neither. “What do you know about my father and your sister?”

Savannah shook her head. “Nothing. Angela was sixteen years older than me, more like a mother than a sister. I was only eighteen when she came back from a job in Texas. She kept that part of her life completely private, and all I knew was that she’d fallen in love with an older, married man. I’d always assumed he’d turned his back on her when he found out she was pregnant.”

“My father wouldn’t have done that,” Jake said coldly.

“Did you know your father was having an affair?”

“Of course not.”

“Then how do you know what else he did or didn’t do?”

Jake’s face was etched in granite, and his eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. “I know that no member of the Stone family would ever walk away from one of their own.”

“Emma is not ‘your own,’” she said fiercely. “She is Emma Victoria Roberts, and she’s mine. I laughed in the delivery room when she was born, applauded her on the soccer field when she got her first goal and cried with her when her mother died. For nine years she’s done fine without you and will continue to do so for ninety more.”

She faced him like a lioness defending her young, her green eyes flashing a challenge and her chin lifted defiantly. The breeze tugged at the ends of her shoulder-length blond hair, and he couldn’t help but notice the graceful sweep of her slender fingers as she absently brushed the strands back.

He moved closer to her, and the scent of magnolias drifted in from the open door. He’d heard the term “steel magnolia” before, but he’d never been face-to-face with it. He felt a tug of desire as he stared at the woman, then reminded himself she’d lied to him. There were few things he tolerated less than lying. Very few things. “Why did you pretend to be Angela?” he asked tightly.

Sighing, she closed her eyes, then opened them again. “Emma is all I have. Surely you can understand that I would do anything to protect her.”

Jake frowned. “You thought you had to protect her from her own brother?”

“Half brother,” she corrected him.

His jaw tightened. “Family is family. All I want, and Jessica and Jared, as well, is an opportunity to get to know Emma, and for her to know us.”

The fear was back again, Jake noticed. Her green eyes darkened with it momentarily before she quickly wrestled it down. He couldn’t help but give her credit for her control.

“I suppose,” she said, and that enticing accent of hers turned icy. “If you call first, we might be able to make arrangements for visits.”

The idea of making arrangements grated on Jake’s already shredded patience almost as much as Savannah’s cool formality. Tipping his hat back, he let out a heavy sigh. “Well, now, ma’am—” he forced a heavy Texas drawl “—that’s right nice of you, but that’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Oh?” She lifted one delicate eyebrow. “And what exactly did you have in mind?”

“What I have in mind—” his gaze locked with hers and his voice dropped dangerously low as he stepped closer “—is for my little sister to come home with me.”

Two

It was her worst nightmare come true. The very thing she’d dreaded since the day she’d received the phone call from the private investigator. Savannah felt her skin go cold and her heart stop for one terrifying split second.

Nobody was taking Emma away from her. Nobody.

She stared at Jake, letting the shock wave travel through her, and felt relief at the anger that followed in its wake. She knew better than to show weakness to a man like Jake Stone. Lifting her chin, she faced him and locked his intense gaze with her own. “I don’t know you from Adam, Mr. Stone. I wouldn’t let you take my niece around the block, let alone to Texas. Emma is in my charge and she stays with me.”

Jake shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with that. There’s plenty of room for both of you.”

Go to Texas? He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t. But he was, Savannah realized. Dead serious. “That’s ridiculous.”

He walked to her, stopping so close she felt the heat of his body and smelled the pure masculine scent that radiated from him. She desperately wanted to step away, but refused to give in to his obvious attempt at intimidation.

“Why?” he asked.

Why? There were at least a dozen logical reasons she could easily throw at him—two dozen—but she was having a difficult time thinking with him so close. “Because...because we can’t, that’s why.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Is school out for you and Emma?”

“We finished three days ago, but—”

“Fine. Then you can get someone to watch this place for you for a couple of months.”

“A couple of months!” Savannah’s mouth dropped open. “That’s out of the question.”

“All right, then,” Jake conceded. “A month.”

How had this gotten so out of hand? A month with this man to— Where was it he lived? Stone Creek? She’d be crazy to even consider it. Shaking her head, Savannah turned away and stared out the glass door. “I’m sorry, but it’s just not possible.”

“I’ll petition the courts if necessary,” he said dryly. “As Emma’s brother, I have a right, legally and morally, to visitation. You can come with her or not. Either way, it’s your choice.”

Cold fear gripped Savannah. He was making it perfectly clear that if she forced him to petition the court and he won, she would be excluded from the visit. If she agreed to the visit, then she could come. She turned stiffly. “I believe that’s blackmail, Mr. Stone. You’ll win the game at any cost, won’t you?”

His mouth tightened at her accusation. “I’m not looking to win the game, Miss Roberts. I’m only asking that you deal me—and my sister and brother—a fair hand.”

“Fair?” She whirled away, then turned back around, her hands on her hips. “I never heard of Stone Creek or your family until two weeks ago. And now, suddenly, here you are, demanding that I let Emma visit you, and you have the nerve to talk to me about fair? For all I know, you just got out of prison.”

“You’ll have to trust me on that one.”

She nearly laughed at the absurdity of his comment. “Mister, right now I wouldn’t trust you with an old pair of socks, let alone my niece. Emma is all I have, and I’m all she has. If the situation were reversed, what would you do?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze hard and cold. Then unexpectedly he looked away, removing his hat and running a work-roughened hand through his hair. “Look, Miss Roberts...Savannah,” he said more softly, “I realize how difficult this must be for you. And you’re right, if the situation were reversed, I’d do exactly the same.” He sighed heavily. “But answer me this—what plans have you made for Emma if anything happens to you?”

An image of her hand locked with Emma’s as they stood beside Angela’s coffin intruded into Savannah’s mind. Who would hold her niece’s hand if tragedy struck again? She nearly shivered at the thought. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”

“But if something does, where will Emma go? You already said you have no family. But Emma does. She has me and Jessica and Jared. Give us a chance. At least come and meet us, and you’ll know we’ll always be there for her if she needs us.”

The reality of Jake’s words swept through Savannah with the chill of an arctic wind. He was right. No one knew what tomorrow might bring, and if anything did happen to her, at least Emma wouldn’t be with strangers, with people who didn’t care about her.

She’d be with family.

Savannah realized that, regardless of whether she wanted to go or not, she needed to. She needed the peace of mind that, if it became necessary, the Stone family would care for Emma as their own. That they would love her and protect her.

Forcing herself not to tremble, Savannah faced Jake. “Your wife won’t mind?”

Jake frowned. “It’s just me and Jared and Jessica.”

Savannah drew in a deep shaky breath, then slowly released it. “One month.” She leveled her gaze on his. “But if I think, even for a second, that you or your family might hurt Emma, then we’ll be gone so quick your head’ll spin faster than one of your Texas tornadoes.” And you’ll never find us again.

Relief softened the corners of Jake’s eyes, and he smiled for the first time, extending his hand. “I’ll send the tickets right away.”

“I’ll make the arrangements myself, thank you.”

Hesitantly she took his hand. His warm, rough fingers closed over hers and something passed between them. Something that made Savannah catch her breath and Jake’s eyes sharpen. It was softer than a whisper and lighter than the brush of a feather.

And it, whatever it was, packed the punch of a twenty-ton press.

She pulled her hand abruptly away and folded her arms, praying she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life.

* * *

Savannah had no trouble finding Jake when she and Emma got off the plane six days later. After all, spotting a six-foot-four cowboy wearing a black hat in the middle of a crowded airport was hardly a difficult task.

But what was difficult for her was the way her heart slammed against her ribs and her pulse shifted into double time at the sight of him.

He stood off to the side, leaning casually against a ticket counter, his face shielded by the brim of his hat. His white workshirt was clean and pressed, and he’d hooked his thumbs into the front loops of his jeans. A silver buckle gleamed at his narrow waist, and though she tried, it was impossible to stop her gaze from drifting downward, over his lean hips to the masculine bulge at the juncture of his long legs. She tore her gaze quickly away, but not before the heat of a blush warmed her cheeks.

“Aunt Savannah!” Emma tugged on her hand and pointed. “There’s Jake!”

He caught sight of them and straightened, then reached down to pick up a shopping bag at his feet.

“Jake!” Emma called to him and waved. “Here we are!”

Emma had been a bundle of energy and excitement all week. She’d asked endless questions about the Stone family that Savannah couldn’t answer and had packed and repacked her bags countless times. Savannah, on the other hand, had been a bundle of nerves. As she’d prepared her own suitcases, the temptation to take her niece and run had been overwhelming.

But she hadn’t, of course. And now, as Jake Stone strolled determinedly toward her and Emma, Savannah once again wished she had.

He stopped in front of them, his gaze intense as it slid slowly over Savannah. She’d tried to convince herself that she’d imagined that feeling she’d had the last time he’d looked at her this way, but she hadn’t. It was there again between them. Unspoken, but every bit as powerful as before, and Savannah nearly shivered with the force of it. There was a taut moment of silence before he looked over at Emma and reached into the bag he carried.

“I thought you might like this,” he said to Emma, and pulled out a fluffy white stuffed animal.

“A kitty! Thanks, Jake.” Emma hugged the present to her. “Did you bring anything for Savannah?”

“Not this time,” he said, and when he turned his gaze back to Savannah the predatory look that flashed through his blue eyes made her pulse skip. “Maybe next time.”

“There’s nothing I need, thank you,” Savannah said, meeting Jake’s dark gaze, though her throat was so dry she hardly knew how she got the words out. “You just concentrate on Emma.”

Jake knew that Savannah was right, of course. He’d brought his sister to Stone Creek for a family gathering, not to get her beautiful aunt into his bed. But when he’d looked at her after she’d stepped off the plane, that had been his first thought. That pink slip of a dress she was wearing might be cool for her, but it had him so hot it was damn near embarrassing. What red-blooded male wouldn’t look at those long smooth legs and imagine them wrapped around his waist?

Jake nearly sighed aloud at the thought. With all the problems he’d been having since he’d had to fire his only ranch hand a month ago, there’d been no time to even consider female companionship, let alone do anything about it. To Jake, lust and sex were as natural a part of life as breathing. But since his ex-wife, he’d taught himself to control those urges with women. Savannah Roberts would be no different, he told himself.

Still, he’d seen the interest flare in her green eyes, too, whether she was willing to admit it or not. Maybe, just maybe, if the time and place were right and the lady was willing...

The midmorning air was cool, so they drove with the windows down. Jake had borrowed Jessica’s station wagon, and the car, though certainly not new, was comfortable and clean, two things Jake’s truck was not. Emma was stretched out in the back seat, firing questions at Jake about his ranch and Jared and Jessica and what kind of animals he had. He patiently answered them all, until finally, as the drive wore on, she fell asleep.

Savannah looked behind her at the exhausted child and smiled. “She’s been up since five. I’m surprised she lasted this long.”

“You look tired yourself.” Jake adjusted the rearview mirror. “Why don’t you go ahead and take a nap? It’s still another two hours to the ranch.”

“Two hours?” Savannah looked at the expanse of land in front of her. As far as the eye could see were mesquite and sagebrush, cacti with yellow blooms and tall porcupine-looking plants with white flowering spikes. Low-lying mountains hovered at the horizon, and dark clouds prowled the outer ridges. There were no signs of people, no buildings. Just land, and more land.

“Isolated” was the word that came to mind. She’d been nervous about coming here, but never actually afraid. Until now. “You didn’t mention your place was so far away from the airport.”

From people.

The radio was more static than music. Jake fiddled with the dial for a moment, then shut it off. “Does that bother you, being far away?”

“Well, no, of course not, it’s just that, well, I might need some things. A month is a long time.”

“Cactus Flat is about forty-five minutes from the ranch. You can get most anything you need there, except for fast food or sushi,” he added.

With a place that sounded as warm and welcoming as Cactus Flat, Savannah could hardly wait. “No fast food?” She opened her eyes wide in feigned disbelief. “I had no idea we’d be roughing it like this.”

Her sarcasm brought a frown to his face. “People from the city think life out here is a stroll in the park, Savannah. Pretty little horses and cute little cows.” His frown deepened. “Ranching is hard, dangerous work. Long hours, no medical pay, no sick leave.”

He was angry, Savannah realized. His words were bitter, and she almost felt as if he was intentionally painting a bleak picture for her. That hardly made sense, since he’d pushed so hard to get her and Emma out here.

“So why do you do it if you feel that way?” she asked.

His frown softened and he stared out the windshield, his gaze briefly following the dive of a hawk overhead. “I could no more explain it than you could ever understand it. It’s just what I do, that’s all.”

Savannah pressed her lips tightly together. “I might understand more than you think, Jake. Why don’t you get to know me a little better before you pass judgment on me?”

He turned to her then and a smile lifted one corner of his mouth. His deep blue eyes darkened and narrowed with a look of intense masculine interest. She nearly shivered at the response that rose unwillingly in her.

“I’ll do that,” he said huskily.

Heat shimmered over her skin and she looked quickly away before he could see the blush she knew was working its way up her cheeks. It was suddenly stifling in the car, but she refused to ask him to turn on the air. She’d show Jake Stone she was tough as any Texas rancher.

* * *

“Savannah?”

She heard someone calling her name, but just couldn’t quite pull herself from the leaden mist wrapped around her. She turned her head slightly, but a soft “Hmm?” was all she could manage.

The voice came again, “Savannah.”

It was a nice voice, she decided. Deep, with a rough, gravelly texture that sent warm tingles over her skin. It sounded just like—

Jake!

She opened her eyes then, startled to realize she’d fallen asleep. He was leaning close to her, so close she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he whispered. “We’re here.”

His words, along with the intimate tone of his voice, made Savannah’s pulse race. Embarrassed, she sat upright and leaned away from him. “I—I’m sorry. I must have been more tired than I realized.”

“Emma, too,” he said quietly, pointing to the back seat. “She’s been out the whole time.”

Savannah glanced at her sleeping niece. Though still buckled in, she lay sprawled across the seat, her ponytail gone and in its place a tousled mass of shining black hair.

Jake shut off the engine. The sudden stillness had Emma sitting up. Her eyes shot open and she looked out the car window. “Are we here? Is that your house?”

Savannah glanced at the one-story rambling home. It was a practical house of sturdy brick and rock. No flowers, no frills. Built rugged to survive the elements. Like the man himself, she thought.

Distant windmills dotted the land beyond the house, and a huge barn several hundred yards away caught Emma’s attention.

“Do you have horses in there?” Emma asked excitedly. “Can I see them?”

“A little later.” Jake reached over and unbuckled Emma’s seat belt. “Right now there’re some people who’ve been waiting to meet you.”

While Jake got the luggage, Savannah quickly pulled a brush through Emma’s tangled hair, then her own. Her hand shook slightly as she hurriedly applied lipstick. Jared and Jessica were waiting inside. And while Savannah knew that they certainly would like Emma, she couldn’t help but wonder what they would think of her. Would they consider her an outsider? An intruder?

Inside the house there were pink and white balloons and streamers everywhere. They seemed strongly out of place in the masculine interior of dark wood and leather furniture. Jake, with one bag under each arm and another in each hand, kicked the door shut behind him.

A man stood just inside the door, his hands in the back pockets of his faded jeans. He was nearly as tall as Jake, with the same muscular build, but his hair was a shade lighter, and his blue eyes, though smiling, held a strange sadness. The kind of sadness a woman could easily find herself drawn to, Savannah thought.

A young woman wearing a sleeveless white denim shirt and black jeans came out of the kitchen drying her hands on a towel. Jessica. The minute Savannah saw her she felt her breath catch. She was beautiful. And if the resemblance between Emma and Jessica’s photograph had been strong, in real life it was amazing.

Jessica tossed the towel aside and moved in front of Emma. There was silence for a moment as Jessica and Jared looked at Emma, then Jessica bent down and held out her hand. “Hello, Emma.”

Still clutching the stuffed animal Jake had given her, Emma suddenly turned shy and leaned close to Savannah. “It’s all right, Pecan.” Savannah nudged her niece. “Say hello to your sister.”

Emma took a cautious step forward. “Are you really my sister?”

Jessica nodded.

Hesitantly Emma took Jessica’s hand. “Are you having a party?” she asked, looking around the room.

Jessica smiled. “It’s a welcome party for you.”

“For me?” Emma’s eyes widened. “Thank you!”

As Jake watched Emma move into Jessica’s arms and give her a hug, he felt his throat tighten. He knew that if his mother hadn’t nearly died giving birth to Jessica there would have been a dozen more Stone children. But Jake’s father had loved his wife too much to chance losing her and so had made sure no more children were conceived. Something told Jake that if his mother were alive, she would have welcomed this child. His stepmother, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.

When Emma gave Jared a hug, too, Jake cleared his throat loudly and set the bags down. “Hey, what about me? I brought you here, didn’t I?”

Emma ran to Jake and nearly jumped into his arms. Savannah stood by, feeling completely out of place as she watched the family unite. It seemed so natural, she thought, watching Emma wrap her arms around Jake’s neck. As if they’d known each other forever.

Jessica, her eyes glistening with tears, stepped forward and took hold of Savannah’s hands. “How can we ever thank you?”

Savannah shook her head. “It’s not necessary.” And when she glanced at Jake and saw him smiling down at Emma, she knew in that second she’d done the right thing by coming. She knew that no matter what happened to her, Emma would always be loved and cared for.

And as comforting as that realization was, a cold shiver of fear went through Savannah. For she knew in her heart that the love that would protect Emma might also take her away.

Jessica, still holding on to Savannah, took Emma’s hand, as well, and pulled them both toward the kitchen. “You two must be starving. I have a pizza almost ready to come out of the oven, cold cuts and potato salad and beans and franks. Oh, and chocolate cake for dessert.”

“So what’s Jake going to eat?” Jared teased.

“His boots if he doesn’t hurry up,” Jessica called back.

Jake tossed his hat onto a hook in the entry and made his way to the kitchen. “Couldn’t tell the difference between my boots and that steak Jared made last week. What was in that marinade, Bro? Boot wax?”

The banter continued through lunch. Emma giggled at the silliness and even Savannah felt herself relaxing. The kitchen was large and sunny, but once again, there was no woman’s touch here, she noted. No curtains, no basket of dried flowers or wooden cows hanging on the wall. Simple and utilitarian in appearance, but complete with what appeared to be most of the necessary modern appliances.

Savannah found herself wondering why Jake hadn’t married and why this kitchen wasn’t filled with his own children. Had it become comfortable living with Jessica and Jared, or was he just too busy to look for a wife?

As if this man would have to look far, she told herself, glancing sideways at him. If word got out he was looking for a wife, the three-hour drive to Midland would be bumper to bumper with eager females.

“Would you like a roll?”

Startled from her thoughts, Savannah realized Jake was talking to her. “Excuse me?”

“A roll.” He offered her a basket of bread. “You want one?”

Jake had no idea what had brought the sudden flush to Savannah’s cheeks, but he couldn’t stop his own thought, which was wondering if her face flushed with passion as easily as it did with embarrassment. He had a swift and fervent desire to find out, and if Jessica hadn’t announced it was time for everyone to have cake, he might have let his imagination wander a bit.

Emma giggled when Jared got chocolate frosting on his chin and the sound flowed through Jake like warm honey. Emma had brought something into his house he hadn’t realized he’d missed. People and laughter. She hadn’t been here two hours and already he was wondering how he could let her leave. A month was too short.

But that was something he’d deal with later. He looked at Savannah, watching as she licked a spot of frosting from her upper lip. The innocent, but sensuous gesture had his groin tightening painfully, and he began to realize that a month might, in fact, be a very long time.

“Hello? Anybody home?”

Jake went still at the sound of the voice, as did everyone else in the kitchen. Jake frowned at Jessica, then Jared, but they both shook their heads.

He counted to three, struggling to control his temper, furious that this special party was being interrupted.

Myrna had just walked in his front door.

Three

The sudden tension in the room closed around Savannah like a fist. Instinctively she put her arm around Emma, who was busy spearing a bite of cake, oblivious to any change in the atmosphere.

The voice came again. “Jake?”

He scowled. Jared shook his head and quickly covered Jessica’s mouth. Jessica pushed Jared’s hand away. “In here,” she called out, and punched Jared’s arm.

“There you are.” An older redheaded woman in a green crepe suit appeared at the doorway. She slipped her sunglasses off. “Are you having a party?”

Jake stood and faced the woman. “I thought you were in Houston visiting your father this week, Myrna.”

With a sigh, the woman swept into the room, her gaze directed downward as she tucked the sunglasses into her clutch purse. Her heels clicked loudly on Jake’s tile floor. “I was, but he was in business meetings night and day, so I decided to come home early. You’d think at seventy-three he could pass up at least one land deal and spend a little time with his only daughter.”

“You usually call me for a ride from the airport,” Jessica said.

“Since that little accident I had, Daddy insisted I hire a driver. So when William came by looking for employment, I took him on.”

“William?” Jake stared at his stepmother. “You mean Billy who used to work for me?”

“Yes, that’s him.” She snapped her purse shut and straightened her suit jacket.

Jake nearly choked. “Myrna, I fired the man because he has a drinking problem.”

“Nonsense. William is as dry as—” She stopped, her brow lifting in question as her gaze rested on Savannah. “Oh. You have company.”

The momentary silence was deafening. Who was this woman? Savannah wondered. And why was everyone acting so strangely? She glanced at Jake, and the tight expression on his face had her holding her breath.

“Myrna Stone,” he finally said, “Savannah Roberts.”

Myrna Stone. Savannah had heard the name, but where? Myrna Stone...Myrna Stone... Her breath caught as the realization hit her full force.

J.T.’s wife.

Before she came here, Savannah had realized that she and this woman might meet. But she certainly hadn’t expected it the first day. Savannah’s fingers stiffened on her niece’s back. Emma. Dear Lord, what about Emma?

“A pleasure.” Myrna extended her hand, then glanced down at Emma. “And this must be your daugh—”

Myrna stopped short, her smile frozen on her face. She stared at Emma, then Jessica, recognizing the resemblance.

Savannah stood slowly and faced the woman. “Emma is my niece, Mrs. Stone. Angela Roberts—Emma’s mother—was my sister.”

A lifetime passed through the heartbeat of silence.

Emma took hold of Savannah’s hand. “Did she know my daddy, too, Aunt Savannah?”

“Yes, sweetheart, she did,” Savannah answered, keeping her gaze on the woman.

Myrna’s face had paled at Emma’s question, and as she stared at the child, Savannah felt a wave of sympathy for the woman. Of course she’d be in shock at the realization she was staring at the child her husband had fathered as the result of an extramarital affair. Anger surged through Savannah. Anger at Jake. He should have prepared her for the possibility that the woman might drop by, just as he should have prepared his stepmother. But he hadn’t.

Eyes wide, Myrna continued to stare at Emma. “You mean, this is...she’s my husband’s—”

Jessica stood quickly. “Emma, why don’t we go wash some of that chocolate off your face? When we’re done, if it’s okay with your aunt, we can go out to the barn and feed Jake’s new calf.”

“Is it okay, Aunt Savannah? Can I?” Emma asked eagerly.

“Of course you can, sweetie.” Savannah forced herself to smile at her niece. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Emma chattered all the way down the hall. When they were out of earshot, Myrna turned to Jake. “Would you please explain to me what’s going on?”

Jake had known he’d have to deal with his stepmother sooner or later, he’d just hoped it would be later. Dammit. Why couldn’t she have stayed in Houston like she was supposed to? “Emma is J.T.’s daughter, Myrna. Her mother died eight months ago and Emma lives with Savannah now. I’ve invited them to stay here for a while.”

“Stay here?” Myrna looked genuinely confused. “You’ve invited my husband’s illegitimate child to stay here?”

Jake saw the indignant lift of Savannah’s chin and stiffness in her shoulders. It was all he could do not to throttle his stepmother. “Emma is my sister, Myrna—”

“Our sister,” Jared added sharply, rising from his seat.

Jake stood a step closer to Myrna. “Our sister,” he repeated. “And I might remind you that she has Stone blood in her veins.”

Distress deepened the lines around Myrna’s eyes. “Jake, surely you can understand my reaction. It’s not easy to have J.T.’s—” she hesitated, as if searching for another word “—indiscretion waved under my nose like this.”

“Emma,” Jake said through clenched teeth. “Her name is Emma. You refer to her as anything other than her given name, and so help me, I’ll personally show you the door.”

Myrna clutched a hand to her throat, then looked at Savannah. “Miss Roberts, forgive me. I meant no offense. It’s just that this has all come as a shock to me. I had no idea that you and...Emma were staying here.”

“I understand your surprise, Mrs. Stone.” Savannah shot Jake a heated look. “But you needn’t worry yourself about it. We’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

Jake’s head turned sharply. “What are you talking about?”

Savannah gathered up a few dirty dishes. “There’s an afternoon flight tomorrow. I’m sure we’ll be able to catch it.” Ignoring the dark look on Jake’s face, she moved around him and deposited the dishes in the sink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll join my niece in the barn.”

She’d barely made it off the front porch before Jake’s hand took hold of her arm and pulled her around to face him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.

“I’m going to the barn.”

“You know what I mean. We had an agreement.”

“That’s right, we did.” Savannah put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. “I told you that if you or anyone in your family hurt Emma, we’d be gone before you could blink.”

“Myrna was supposed to be in Houston. I had no idea she’d turn up here today.”

“I’m not talking about Myrna. I’m talking about you. You never considered what might happen or how Emma would feel if your stepmother showed up. You only thought about what you wanted.”

His eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “Okay. I messed up.”

“You got that right, mister.” The air was dry outside and a hot wind whipped her hair in front of her face, but she ignored it. She leaned even closer to Jake and lifted her face to his. “When Angela died I made a vow that nothing was ever going to hurt Emma again. Nothing—” she pressed a finger to Jake’s chest “—and no one.”

Frustration had Jake wrapping his hand tightly around Savannah’s. “Dammit, Savannah, I care about Emma. We all do. I admit I made a mistake and I can’t promise I won’t make more. But I can promise I’ll try my damnedest.” He loosened his hold on her and his voice softened. “Give me a chance.”

Could she take that kind of risk when it came to Emma? Savannah asked herself as she stared into Jake’s eyes. She’d sworn that her niece would never feel pain again, but in reality, she knew that some pain was inevitable. There were times when people would be cruel. And a loving supportive family would be the only safe haven. Jake and Jared and Jessica had already proved they could supply that haven by the way they’d banded together to handle their stepmother. In her heart she knew it would be wrong to take Emma away so soon.

But Savannah’s heart was telling her something else. Something she did not want to listen to. Something was happening here between her and Jake. Something that would only complicate matters. She stared at Jake’s hand still covering her own and suddenly realized how close she was standing to him. Her fingers rested against his rock-hard chest and she felt the steady beat of his heart.

“She’s just a little girl, Jake,” Savannah said quietly. “Angela and I have always done our best to shelter her. She doesn’t understand how cruel some people can be.”

He stroked the soft skin of her palm, and it was impossible for Savannah to stop the shiver that coursed up her arm and through her body.

“I’ll horse-drag anyone who even looks at her cross-eyed, myself included,” he said. “You can ride the horse.”

“I suppose Emma would be upset if we left so soon,” she murmured, and found that her throat was as dry as the Texas dust swirling around her feet. She felt the heat of his skin radiate through his cotton shirt.

“So would I.”

Without her realizing when, he’d pulled her against him. They stood there at the base of the porch, their bodies touching, his hand stroking hers. It seemed to Savannah that her bones were softening and she felt a yearning she’d never experienced before. She leaned against Jake, felt the heat of the sun on her back and his muscled body pressed against her thighs and breasts. Desire spilled through her, making her ache to be closer, to—

“Aunt Savannah!”

Savannah jerked her hand away from Jake’s at the sound of Emma’s call. Her niece was running back from the barn with Jessica several feet behind.

“Aunt Savannah! Come see the baby cow! My sister, Jessica, says I can feed it a bottle.”

Savannah hadn’t seen that big a smile on Emma’s face since before Angela had died. It was worth all the gold in the world to Savannah. She waved to her niece with a shaky hand. “I’ll be right there, Pecan.”

She looked back at Jake and nodded slowly. “Okay, Mr. Stone, I’ll give you another chance.” She turned to follow Emma, wondering how she could walk on knees that felt like warm rubber.

Jake watched Savannah walk away and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The first day and already he’d nearly blown it. Myrna hadn’t been expected until next week. He’d planned on telling Savannah about his stepmother then. How the hell could he have known that she’d show up today of all days?

“Jake?”

He turned. Billy stood behind him, his hat in his hand, his gaze cast downward. Myrna’s white luxury sedan was parked a few feet away.

“Hello, Billy.”

“I know you’re probably still sore at me, but I just wanna say I’m sorry for any trouble I caused ya. I oughtn’t not been drinking like that on your time.”

Jake frowned at the man. He looked as if he’d tied one on the night before. Jake sighed inwardly. Only his stepmother would hire a drunk to drive for her. “You go to any AA meetings yet?”

“One.”

“Get yourself straightened out, then come see me in the fall.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jake turned and went back into the house. Billy was Myrna’s problem. And right now, he and his stepmother were going to have to get a few things straight about Savannah and Emma.

Because now that he had them here, he intended to make sure they stayed.

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