BACK IN THE RING

Clover Van Camp meets her match when her plans to turn a struggling Arizona town into a Wild West resort are blocked by the hunky mayor, retired bull rider Danny Leigh. To make things more complicated, this isn’t the first time the two of them have tangled…

Danny knows Clover usually gets her way, but this time he won’t back down. He’s got a few things to answer for and a town to save. Besides, reconnecting with his former fling has benefits, as long as he doesn’t get distracted by their mutual attraction. Will Danny and Clover let their ambition keep their hearts divided?

“Clover Van Camp doesn’t have a boyfriend!” Danny teased.

Clover shook her head. “Nope, I’ve been focusing on work. What about you?”

“Nah. Between my business and being mayor, I just don’t have the time.”

“Didn’t you say you could always make time for the ladies?”

“I said that in an interview when I was twenty-one and just won a buckle!” Danny laughed. “So…you kept up with me?”

She may have followed his career…a little. She blushed. “I followed everyone I knew from bull riding.”

“Good recovery.” He laughed again, his blue eyes bright with humor. “Well, I’d better get going.”

“It was good to visit.” She smiled.

“Same here.” He didn’t move, his gaze on her face.

Her breath quickened just a little. Danny grinned as he put out his hand for a shake. As she grasped his strong hand she felt that old flush of heat and desire working its way through her. How could that be, more than ten years after that summer?

She tugged him toward her…and Danny didn’t hesitate.

Dear Reader,

Danny Leigh was nearly shouting at me to tell his story. The trouble was that where his story started is not where it ended up. He and his first love, a Texas cowgirl with New York blue-blood roots, taught me that changing horses midstream isn’t easy, but it makes the destination that much sweeter. Of course, I got Danny back, torturing him just a little in this Angel Crossing, Arizona, book. Bwa-ha-ha.

At the heart of this reunion romance are two people just trying to do the best they can: Mayor Danny working to improve his town by remaining true to its roots and Clover Van Camp planning to transform the community into a Wild West resort with jobs and prosperity for one and all. Of course, the residents of Angel Crossing aren’t going to let this battle play out without putting in their two cents every chance they get.

I have so many more stories to tell about Angel Crossing and I can’t wait to do that. When I look back on how this all started with The Surgeon and the Cowgirl, I do wonder what the inspiration fairies were drinking.

If you want to know more about my inspirations and musings or drop me a note, check out my website and blog at heidihormel.net, where you also can sign up for my newsletter; or connect with me at Facebook.com/AuthorHeidiHormel; on Twitter @HeidiHormel; or Pinterest.com/hhormel.

Yee-Haw,

Heidi Hormel

The Bull Rider’s Redemption

Heidi Hormel

www.millsandboon.co.uk

With stints as an innkeeper and radio talk show host, HEIDI HORMEL settled into her true calling as a writer by spending years as a reporter (covering the story of the rampaging elephants Debbie and Tina) and as a PR flunky (staying calm in the face of Cookiegate). Now she is happiest penning romances with a wink and a wiggle.

A small-town girl from the Snack Food Capital of the World, Heidi has trotted over a good portion of the globe, from Tombstone in Arizona to Loch Ness in Scotland to the depths of Death Valley. She draws on all of these experiences for her books, but especially her annual visits to the Grand Canyon state for her Angel Crossing, Arizona, series.

Heidi is on the web at heidihormel.net, as well as socially out there at Facebook.com/authorheidihormel, Twitter.com/heidihormel and Pinterest.com/hhormel.

To my hometown for giving me

too much inspiration—I’ll never have

the time to write all these books!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Just like riding a bike, my aunt Fanny. The weighted edge of Clover Van Camp’s sequined, tailored gown and her three-inch stilettos were parts of a life she’d left years ago, when she’d gone to college and finally convinced her mother that statistics class would get her further in the fashion industry than pageants. This was a one-night only return to the stage as a beauty queen. Her mother had promised.

Clover handed the award to the man in the cowboy hat and Western tuxedo with buttons straining over his middle. She stood behind him as he spoke about his philanthropy to the crowded Phoenix ballroom. Her smile was pleasant, masking a desperate desire to move her pinned and sprayed head of “naturally tousled” red hair. La-di-da and fiddly dee, she said to herself, the joys of being a vice president of events for her mother’s fashion house. The clapping prompted her to step forward to direct the winner to the spot for his photo with the Junior League’s president. As she maneuvered him into position, his hand squeezed her sequined, Spanxed butt.

“What the hell?” she yelped, pushing him and knocking him off balance and into the Junior League president. Clover watched as the pinwheeling man and woman sprawled onto the wooden floor, as Grabby Hands’ white Stetson rolled off the stage. Crap. What was it with her and cowboys, gowns and trophies? That was exactly how she’d “fallen” for tall, blond, blue-eyed Danny Leigh years ago. She’d handed him the Junior Championship Bull Rider trophy and, in trying to get herself close to him for the picture, she’d stepped on his cowboy boot with the thin heel of her stiletto, skewering his foot and sending him into a jig that had them both tumbling from the platform.

Now in the Phoenix ballroom more than a decade later, this audience laughed politely, and Clover went on as if nothing had happened. She’d learned how to tape her breasts for the best cleavage and how to smile through anything on the pageant circuit. Good thing, too. She figured tonight’s spectacular cleavage (thanks to her taping skills) might make the cowboy forget she’d knocked him to the ground.

Two hours later and on the way to the airport for a red-eye flight back to Austin, Texas, Clover finally read the text from her mother: WTH. U punched award winner?

No punch. Accident. Will explain at office.

By then Clover would have a better, and more PR-friendly, explanation than that Grabby Hands should have kept his mitts off her. She’d already salvaged the situation to the best advantage for her mother’s brand—Cowgirl’s Blues. In two days, everyone would be talking about the new jeans that lifted butts and flattened tummies, not Clover’s stumble. Oh, the glamour of working in the fashion industry.

Was this what she’d pictured when she’d smiled for the camera with her new MBA diploma in hand? She was no closer to a position of real responsibility than a polecat with a ten-foot pole. Of anyone, her mother should be able to understand Clover’s ambition to be more than a clothes hanger with breasts. Clover wanted to be the kind of businesswoman her mother was, one who made her mark on an industry.

Why did she have to explain anything to her mother? Clover shouldn’t have been forced into the gown and into a position that should have been filled by an intern. The jet flew through the darkened sky and Clover made a decision she’d been working up to since her father had tempted her with a dream job: CFO of Van Camp Worldwide. She’d be second only to her father in power. But it wasn’t just the power that mattered—it was also the fact that the position as chief financial officer would allow her to finally use her crazy fast and nearly supernatural ability to look at numbers and see where the problems were. She was done with fashion and more than done trying to please her mother and her Texas-sized ego. Why had she ever imagined that her mother would loosen her grasp on the reins of Cowgirl’s Blues?

* * *

CLOVER SHOVED HER foot hard into the stiff boots she hadn’t worn since...well, since that summer, the one where she’d met Danny Leigh, lost her virginity and had her heart broken all in the space of a few weeks. Ahh, youth was wasted on youth. She grinned until she remembered her mission. She’d accepted her father’s challenge, after two weeks’ notice to her mother, who told her to leave immediately and not let the door hit her on the way out. Clover’s job over the next few months for her father was to prove her worth by convincing property owners and the town council that creating a resort out of Angel Crossing was the best way to save the Arizona town.

She checked over the packed luggage—jeans, cowgirl shirts and plain white undergarments. She needed to dress her part from her skin to her hat. Sure, the town would know her and her purpose. After all, Danny was the mayor now. She wondered if her father had sent her here because he remembered her relationship with the junior champion bull rider. Maybe. Her genius with numbers was matched by her father’s photographic memory.

Clover didn’t care. She was on her way, and if she needed to use an old relationship to get what she wanted? So be it.

* * *

“HEY, BIDDER, BIDDER.” The auctioneer started his patter as the sun beat down on Danny’s cowboy hat. He was waiting for someone to start the bidding. Then when it looked like the property was ready to sell, he’d jump in. The buildings at the very end of Miner’s Gulch, Angel Crossing’s main thoroughfare, were perfect for his plans because they were cheap, on large lots.

The crowd was sparse. Good. Probably meant the price would be even lower than he’d hoped. Finally the auctioneer accepted a bid. Danny held his number at his side. He didn’t want to jump into the bidding too early. Someone behind him and to the left upped the price by $2,000. The auctioneer looked pained.

“Come on, folks,” he said. “These properties are worth a whole lot more than that.”

That little push got another person to up the price. Then Danny nearly bid when the auctioneer looked like he was going to call everything done.

“You’re making me work for my money, aren’t you? I see John back there. Are you bidding?” Silence. Danny saw the auctioneer lifting the gavel to start the count down.

Danny held up his number and nodded. He was sure he’d be the winning bidder now... Then a feminine voice said, “$155,000.”

That put the properties near the top of his price range. He and the all-male crowd looked around for the woman in their midst. Though he was tall, all he saw were hats. The high desert where his town sat might not get boiling temperatures—except in the dead of summer—but the sun was just as fierce as anywhere else in the Grand Canyon State.

“Mayor?” the auctioneer asked. Danny nodded and gestured that he’d match the bid and add $1,000. The bidder’s voice sounded familiar but wasn’t an Angelite.

“It’s back to you, Mayor. The little lady does seem determined.”

Danny nodded and added $2,000 to her bid of $166,000. He’d already gone beyond what he had to spend. She must have nodded because the auctioneer pointed at Danny again. Damn. If he begged friends and family he might be able to cover the check. He did more calculations in his head. Could he still come out with a little bit of profit after converting the properties? He had to shake his head no. Converting the old warehouses into homes might put money in his pocket in the long term and make Angel Crossing a better place, but he’d be in the red on the project for longer than he could afford. Maybe if he was still bringing in the big purses from his bull rides. But not now.

“Sold,” the auctioneer said. “To the lady in the pink hat.” Now Danny saw her. About the same height as the men around her, although she’d still be shorter than him. He had to know who’d just bought a chunk of his town. He quickly moved toward her as she walked to the legal eagles ready to sign over the properties as is.

“Pardon, ma’am,” Danny said, raising his voice a little to catch her attention. She turned and he stopped. Hells no. “Clover?”

She smiled, her perpetually red lips looking as lush and kissable as they had been during that rodeo summer. The one where he’d won his buckle, lassoed a beauty queen and lost his virginity.

“Hello, Danny,” she said, a light drawl in her voice. “I heard you were mayor here. Congratulations.” She smiled again. Not the real one he’d come to love, but the staged one that stretched her lips, lifting her cheeks but never reaching her bluebonnet eyes.

“Why?” he asked, not exactly sure what he meant.

“Good investment.” She turned back to the paperwork.

Danny wouldn’t be dismissed this time. He’d let her take the lead when they’d been teens because she was older than him by two years. He’d seen her as a woman of the world. Not now. Not all of these years later. He wasn’t a horny sixteen-year-old with more hormones than brains.

“What exactly do you plan to do with the properties?”

She continued to sign where the official from the county tax sale office pointed but didn’t answer.

“I’m mayor and chair of the revitalization committee,” he added. True, though the “revitalization committee” was just him. He wanted Angel Crossing to thrive and he had plans that built on some of the changes that were already taking place. He didn’t want any of that to be ruined.

Clover nodded but didn’t turn. He was starting to get annoyed. He didn’t expect her to fall all over herself for an old boyfriend or even because he was mayor. He did expect her to be courteous enough to answer his very legitimate questions. He wasn’t moving until she did. Folding his arms over his chest, he stared at her...hat—not her jean-clad rear and long legs. It didn’t look like she starved herself anymore. Her mother had been big on her daughter becoming a model for her clothing line, so Clover had watched every morsel that passed her lips. He remembered her almost drooling while he’d eaten a greasy, powdered-sugar-covered funnel cake. It had taken the enjoyment out of eating it.

Slowly, deliberately, he thought, she put down the pen and took the papers before turning to him. Her expression was pleasant even without her wide smile. “What did you need, Danny?”

“I don’t need anything. I would like to know your plans for the properties, strictly as an official of the town.”

“I don’t think so.” She looked him in the eye, nearly his height in her impractical pink cowgirl boots, matched to her cowgirl shirt—probably one of her mother’s designs. She looked the same, yet different. A woman grown into and comfortable with her blue-blood nose and creamy Southern-belle skin.

“There must be some reason you won’t share your plans.”

“It’s business, Danny. That’s all. You were bidding against me. You must have your own plans.” There was a question in there somewhere.

“I’m mayor. Of course I have plans. But you work for a clothing designer, don’t you?”

“I understood you only became mayor because you lost a card game.”

That damned story. It had gotten picked up by a bunch of papers and repeated on a ton of websites. “Not exactly.”

She smiled politely. Waiting.

“The vote for mayor was a tie and we drew cards to decide the winner.” He didn’t need to tell her that he’d been a write-in candidate as a joke. He could have turned it down, but by then he’d decided to step away from bull riding while he was at the top of the profession—he’d just won his champion buckle. That was what he’d told the reporters. It was true enough. He’d had his place in Angel Crossing and the town seemed as good as any to put down roots after years on the road. Anyway, who wouldn’t want to be mayor, he’d thought at the time, imagining all kinds of cool things he could do.

“Drawing cards. That’s very Wild West, isn’t it?”

“I guess. But I’m still mayor.”

“Well, it was nice to see you, Danny.” She turned from him before he could say anything else. Damn. What was he going to do now? He watched Clover walk away. A beautiful sight, as it always had been. Tall, curvier than she’d been at eighteen and proud. He knew she worked for her mother. A friend of a rodeo friend had told him that years ago, thinking he’d be interested. He hadn’t been.

Now, though, what she was up to was important to Angel Crossing. He wasn’t the big dumb cowboy who was led around by his gonads anymore. He was a responsible adult who had a town to look after.

* * *

CLOVER KEPT HER head high and her steps confident as she walked away from Danny. She could feel his eyes on her. She refused to acknowledge that she knew he was watching. She definitely didn’t want him to know that the corner of her heart still ruled by her teenage self liked his denim-blue gaze on her.

Clover disciplined her thoughts by going over the numbers and how these properties fit in with the ones that Van Camp Worldwide already owned. The buildings were slated for demolition, despite their sturdy brick walls. Most places in Angel Crossing were made of wood or adobe, but not these. What had Danny planned for them? Didn’t matter. They were hers...well, VCW’s.

She walked to the small, fully furnished house she’d rented—simpler than staying at the hotel nearly half an hour away or in Tucson. There used to be an old grand dame of a hotel in Angel Crossing, but it had closed years ago and sat empty, beginning to sag and rot. The town had little future on its current path. It would end up like the other Arizona ghost towns, a place on the map that tourists visited hoping to see spirits of the Wild West.

Next on her to-do list was finding the owners of six other key properties. She had done what she could from New York, but she needed to go to the courthouse in Tucson to start pulling records. She got in her rental car and fired up the GPS, telling her phone to call her brother, Knox, so she could speak with him about the purchase and any other issues he might know about, having worked for their father for years.

It took extra rings for her brother to answer, but he was willing to talk.

“Make sure the attorneys go through the deeds and the town’s regulations with a fine-tooth comb,” Knox said around a yawn. It was early, early in Hong Kong. “They’ll assume they’re a bunch of yahoos and blow off a full review.”

“I’m on my way to Tucson to check on the ownership of the other properties. I should be able to straighten that out by the end of the day. I think the purchases will be completed faster than we’d calculated. Good thing because this town is definitely on a downward slide.”

“What about the mayor?” Knox asked. She could picture her dark-haired brother squinting at his phone because he’d left his glasses somewhere.

There was more to the question than what sat on the surface.

“You mean, what’s it like catching up with an old boyfriend? We were kids. He’s just a retired bull rider and accidental mayor of a dying town.”

“You might be interested to know that he’s been buying properties along the main street—Miner’s Gulch.”

“That explains why he was bidding against us today.”

“Interesting. Do you think he’s a front man for another company?”

Clover was getting used to the suspicion and worry that ran through VCW. “I doubt it. I don’t see Danny Leigh allowing himself to be used that way, but I’ll have New York check into it if you think it’s important.” Maybe she should meet with Danny to figure out why he’d wanted the properties. All business. Clover was no longer the beauty-queen cowgirl looking for her one and only cowboy. She had plans, including turning Angel Crossing into Rico Pueblo. With that accomplished, her father would make her CFO. It might feel good, too, knowing that she’d fix something Knox had messed up—for the first time in their lives, maybe.

“If you have any other questions, just give me a call,” Knox said. Why was he being so nice? “It’s great having you with the company.”

“Thanks,” Clover said before she hung up. She didn’t really believe Knox wished her well. They had always been in competition, especially for their parents’ attention. He’d agreed to help her now, even though their father had sent him to Hong Kong. She knew there was more to his banishment to the China office than he was letting on.

She shook her head, wondering if siblings ever got past being ten-year-olds with each other.

Outdoing Knox wasn’t childish, though. It would get her the job she’d trained for at the Wharton business school and really start her life as an adult. No more picking out tablecloth colors or deciding whether roses or lilies were better in the centerpieces, as she’d done for Cowgirl’s Blues. She would be reshaping a town and leading VCW into an entirely new business venture. First, though, she needed to find the owners of the next properties on her list, then make offers. That would provide VCW with enough land to begin the process of rezoning.

* * *

CLOVER TURNED ONTO Miner’s Gulch—the name of the street would need to be changed. Picturesque for a ghost town, but not so much for a fun, yet sophisticated village and resort that would be Rico Pueblo. She reached for her phone on the passenger seat to record a reminder about the street name. Where was it? She turned to look and saw that it had slid out of reach. She glanced back to the road. “Oh, no!” she said, seeing a dog cowering in her path. She slammed on her brakes and swerved just as the dog unfroze and ran toward her turning car. The thud of car into dog made Clover wince and cry out.

She couldn’t see the animal. Her heart beat in her ears. She put the vehicle in Park, her hands shaking as she turned off the engine and hurried out of the car. She didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to see the animal’s mangled body. But it might be alive. She walked toward the side that would have hit the dog. No body, but there were drops of blood. She’d definitely hit the dog. She left the car and followed the trail of red dots toward an alley. Should she call someone for help? Her first thought was Danny. No. She’d deal with whatever she found when she reached the end of the blood trail.

Chapter Two

A howl lifted the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck. Not a coyote, though they did creep into town. Definitely a dog, and one in distress. Danny stopped for a moment, listening to figure out where it was. His own hound had died just after he’d stopped riding bulls. He hadn’t been able to make himself adopt another.

He moved as a whine echoed off the wooden facades of the buildings. The animal was definitely in pain. He stopped again, squinting down the sidewalk for the dog or someone looking for it. Whimpering drifted to him from his left, down a short alley that led to a parking lot. He hurried as the whimper scaled back up to a howl.

“Doggie,” a female voice said as he rushed down the narrow passage and toward the lot. He scanned the empty area until he noticed a woman standing near a Dumpster. The whimper changed to a growl. Didn’t she know what that meant? That was more than a warning.

“Hey,” he yelled. She whipped around as a dirty dog darted away despite a heavy limp.

“Darn it,” Clover said because, of course, it had to be Clover. “I finally had him cornered.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get bitten.”

“I have on gloves and I have a coat to cover him,” she said, moving past Danny. “He won’t have gone far. Could you call the police for help?”

“I’ll help.” They walked toward a narrow space between the buildings, too small for a vehicle but large enough for a dog or a person.

Clover pulled a tiny light from her huge purse. She shone it into the darkness. The dog’s eyes glowed, its teeth bared as he growled long and low.

Danny put his hand on Clover’s arm. “Wait. I don’t want either of us to get bitten. Give me the coat. You go around to the other end to keep him from getting away. But don’t go near him.”

“This is all my fault. He came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop—”

He didn’t want to hear her confession now. “Have you ever had a dog?” She didn’t answer. “I didn’t think so. I grew up around dogs and cattle and every other ornery animal there is. We have to be careful.”

She handed him her coat and jogged around the building. He waited for her to appear at the other end of the narrow passageway. The dog was whimpering again in a way that made Danny want to rush to him. Finally, he saw Clover and the dog did, too. It turned to her, and Danny moved slowly forward with the coat in front of him. By the time the dog looked his way, Danny was close enough to drop the Pendleton-patterned jacket over him. Clover hurried from her end of the lane. In the dimness, she whispered over the dog’s low growls and whimpers, “What do we do now?”

“Wait until he calms down. Then we’re going to use the strap on your purse to lead him out of here.”

“This is an Alexander McQueen,” Clover said.

“Do you want to save this dog?”

She didn’t reply, instead taking the strap off her purse, and two minutes later he lifted the brightly colored coat off the dog enough to reveal a dirty collar—thank God. He hadn’t been sure how else he would have gotten the lead on the animal. He clicked on the “leash” and the dog froze. Then Danny lifted the coat at the same time he pulled up on the lead to keep control of its head. After a few feeble attempts to snap, the fight went out of the creature. Its medium-length matted fur was mostly white with brownish-red patches and ears that drooped. Danny could see the gleam of blood on its flank.

There wasn’t a vet in town and the nearest was an hour away. But he knew who could help. Angel Crossing’s physician’s assistant Pepper Bourne treated humans; she could care for dogs, too. He hoped. “Clover, can you get to your phone?”

“Are you going to call the dog catcher?” she accused.

“I want you to phone Angel Crossing Medical Clinic and speak with Pepper Bourne. I bet she can fix him up.”

“Oh.” Clover sounded both confused and a little sorry. He gently led the limping and whimpering dog from the lane. He only half listened to Clover’s side of the phone conversation.

“Pepper says she can’t work on him at the clinic. Can you take him out to the ranch?”

“Tell her we’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Thank you,” Clover said. She stepped forward. He moved his head a fraction of an inch, from habit, from want, and the peck she’d been ready to land on his cheek found its home on his lips. Like biting into the ripest peach, the taste of her exploded in his mouth. He pulled her close with his free arm. She didn’t protest. Her mouth opened under his and the peaches became spicy with need. This was not the kiss of fumbling, horny teens. This had nothing to do with their past at all. This was its own connection. One that Danny hadn’t known before. He deepened the kiss, explored her mouth and her amazing curves. None of it was enough because of this suddenly huge feeling between them.

The dog yanked on its leash and he stepped away. The ache and the need were not what he wanted. He hadn’t kissed her for that. He had kissed her because— “Let’s go,” he said, knowing his voice growled like the dog’s. He didn’t care. He was only helping her now because he couldn’t let this dog suffer.

* * *

“YOU’RE LUCKY I keep a kit here at the house,” Pepper said as she stitched. At least Clover assumed the other woman with a honey-colored ponytail was stitching, since Clover had stopped watching.

“We need a vet closer than Tucson,” Danny commented.

“I know. It costs us a fortune when we bring someone here for Faye’s walking yarn balls, aka my mother’s alpacas and llamas,” she said to Clover. “Hang on. This might be a problem.”

“What?” Danny asked anxiously. She remembered the dog he’d had when they’d first met. It’d had only one eye.

“She’s pregnant.”

“She? Puppies?” Danny sounded both stunned and aggrieved. “Who would dump her?”

Clover’s stomach lurched. She’d hit a pregnant dog? Jeez. If there was ever a reason to go to hell, that had to be it. “Do you think they’ll be okay?”

“I can feel them moving, so I guess they’re good. Since I can feel them, I would also say that she’s fairly far along. You’ll have to take her to the vet to know for certain. The wound wasn’t as bad as it looked. I’d keep her quiet for the next couple of days and come back in a week for me to take the stitches out, if you can’t get to the vet or her owner doesn’t come forward. Definitely keep a bandage on it in the meantime.”

If Clover hadn’t felt so bad for the dog, she would have laughed at Danny’s stunned face. “Thanks. What do we owe you?” she asked.

“No charge,” Pepper said. “Faye wouldn’t let me. This is Angel Crossing.”

Clover didn’t know what that comment meant. Danny lifted the dog carefully and carried it...her to the truck. Puppies. This had gotten complicated quick.

“What was the name of your dog?” Clover asked when they were on the road with the dog’s head on Danny’s lap, where she was snoring softly. The rest of her limp body draped across the old-fashioned bench seat of his pickup and half onto Clover’s lap.

“Which one?”

“The one you had when we met. He only had one eye.”

“That was Jack because of the eye.”

“I don’t get it,” she said after a moment of trying to make the connection.

“Like the card. The one-eyed Jack.”

A laugh leaked out. “You never told me that.”

“We weren’t big on talking.”

She couldn’t deny that. Most of their conversations had been about how to fool around and make sure no one found out. What a summer that had been. So exciting and happy and sad and scary, especially looking back and knowing that she’d nearly ditched college to be with Danny. And the kiss they’d just shared? The one neither of them seemed willing to acknowledge now. The dog whimpered, and she reached out to soothe her.

Danny spoke again. “We had a good time.”

She smiled because that was what she’d been more or less thinking. They’d been like that, finishing each other’s sentences, or he’d call her just as she got her phone out to call him. “It was a long time ago, and we were very young.”

“Not you. You were eighteen. A woman of experience.”

“That just meant I’d been somewhere other than a ranch or a rodeo. You know I was a—” She stopped herself because what she would say next sounded so silly and juvenile. They’d both been virgins when they’d finally been able to sneak off for a few hours one night. They’d done the deed. She’d refused to admit it to him or anyone else at the time, but it had been a huge disappointment.

“Two virgins do not a good night make,” he said. “It’s not polite to talk about other ladies, but I’ll just say I’ve learned a bit since then.”

“This is where I should say ‘me, too,’ but ladies definitely don’t say that sort of thing, as my grandmother Van Camp would remind me. My Texas grandmother... She’d say, ‘Thank God you’re only a heifer once.’” They both laughed. The dog yipped, and Clover rubbed her fur. The poor animal.

“What are we going to do with her?” he asked as he turned onto the main road to town. “I’ll check for an owner, but I’m sure she was abandoned.”

“I’m not staying here long and my New York condo forbids pets, even goldfish,” she said.

“I’ve got a no-pets sort of place, too.”

“You don’t have a dog? You said that a cowboy isn’t a cowboy without a dog.”

“I was sixteen.”

Teenagers were allowed to make pronouncements like that before they learned how the world really worked.

“You’re the mayor. Can’t you make a rule to allow you to keep the dog at your place?”

He laughed. “I wish it worked that way. Maybe Chief Rudy knows someone. The police know everyone.”

“You’ve really settled in here, haven’t you? I assumed you wouldn’t retire until you couldn’t walk anymore.”

“Not much choice when I became mayor.”

“How could you get written in for mayor? You weren’t actually living here if you were still competing.”

“Since Gene was here. Do you remember him? He kept AJ and me in line and helped us figure out the bulls. Anyway, Gene had a ranch here, so I decided this would be as good a place as any to call home. I gave this as my address. The next thing I know, I’m mayor. It all happened kind of quick.” He didn’t look at her, but she saw that he had his signature half smile. The one that had made her heart flutter—hers and every other girl in the arena.

“That still doesn’t explain how you wound up retired.”

“A story for another time,” he said. “What are we going to do with mama dog?”

Clover had grown up a lot since that summer. Danny’s charm—his kisses, too—didn’t make her brain short-circuit anymore. “She can’t come with me. You have to know someone who will look after her. I’d be willing to pay.”

His smile disappeared. “Money doesn’t solve everything, you know. That’s not how things work here in Angel Crossing. Don’t worry about Mama. I’ll figure something out.”

How could she have forgotten his pride? Prickly and strong. Maybe that was why he fit so well in Arizona. He had the personality of a cactus. “What I meant was that I would stop at the store and get food and anything else the dog needs. I want to help, even if she can’t stay with me.”

“We’d better hurry. Lem will be closing up shop, and he doesn’t care if it’s an emergency. He doesn’t reopen for anyone.”

“Sounds like you tried?”

“We were having a poker game and ran out of beer. Lem was at the game, so we asked him to restock us. We were going to pay. He wouldn’t even reopen for himself.”

“Hurry up, then.” She’d buy the food and then go back to her rental and go over which property owners her brother had indicated were highly motivated to sell.

“You go in,” Danny said. “I’ll wait here with Mama. Might need to come up with a better name.” He stroked the dog’s silky red-brown ears, her fur in crimped-looking waves. The animal sighed in pleasure. Clover could understand that. She’d made nearly the same noise when Danny had used his hands to—

“I’ll be back.” She did not hurry into the store. She had more dignity than that, and their shared summer was a long time ago. She wasn’t that girl anymore.

She came back to the truck with three bags filled with dog paraphernalia, which she was pretty sure she’d been overcharged for. She opened the door to put the loot in the truck.

“My God, woman, did you buy the whole store?” Danny asked as she shoved the bags in.

She stiffened. “I wanted to make sure she had everything she needed.”

He rooted in the bags. “A pink rhinestone collar? Lem carries these?”

“Obviously he carries them. Where else would I have gotten it?”

“Well, take it back. I’m not walking a dog with that kind of collar. The one she has just needs to be cleaned up.”

“Excuse me?” She couldn’t believe what he’d just said. He’d insulted her... She was pretty sure he had.

“I am not putting this collar,” he said as he dived into the bags again, “or this leash on Mama. It’s not right. She’s a ranch dog.”

“A ranch dog? You live in a tiny apartment, in a tiny town, not on a ranch.”

“I’m not using these.” He got out of the truck, lifted down the dog and tied her to the door handle so she was in the shade. Then he strode toward the store. She followed him.

“Danny, the collar and leash are fine. She’s a girl.”

“She’s a ranch dog, and she doesn’t need rhinestones.” He didn’t slow down. She continued after him and back into the store.

“Lem,” Danny yelled. “What the hell are you selling? I want a real collar and leash.”

“You know the rules,” the tall, skinny and stooped Lem said. “No returns.”

“That’s BS. There are returns when you’re selling us crap.” Danny glared at the man.

Clover had already guessed she’d been taken advantage of. But she felt it only fair since she was guilty of hitting the dog. Somehow getting gouged made her feel better about that. Like she was paying her dues. “I like the leash and collar.” There was that, too.

“Of course you do. You’re from New York City,” Danny said, as if she’d come from Sodom or Gomorrah.

“They’re girlie. And I’ve spent more of life in Texas than New York.”

“They’re ridiculous.”

“Not man enough to walk a dog sporting a few rhinestones?” she jeered, smiling at the image of him. He was not going to return the darned leash and collar.

“I was man enough for you, darlin’.” His tone said exactly what that implied.

She blushed, wanting to smack him because she could see the speculation in Lem’s eyes. She did not want to be one of Danny Leigh’s women. “That was when you were a bull rider. What are you now? Mayor of a dying town, living off your fading fame.” She’d gone too far. She knew it even as the mean words came out. She opened her mouth to apologize or maybe to suck the words back in.

The dog woofed as she came waddling and limping in. She went over to Danny, stretched up and grabbed the leash and collar from his hands, which had fallen to his sides with her ugly words.

Danny seemed to awaken and tried to pull them back. “No,” he said. The dog growled and yanked the collar and leash to her, showing teeth.

“Hell’s bells, Mayor. That your dog?”

“Just a stray,” Danny said. “A bitch who doesn’t know what she wants, apparently.”

Clover sucked in her breath. Even in their worst teenage fights, Danny had never called her that.

Chapter Three

A call to his sister Jessie had gotten Danny no help and no sympathy for mama dog. His sister had her own child to deal with, her horse therapy program and a husband adjusting to a new job and baby. Jessie had a lot of choice words. Next he tried Lavonda, the sister closest to his age. She said that Cat, her cat, had nixed the idea. Danny told her that he didn’t see how a property could function with just a cat to keep the stock in line. Lavonda reminded him who Cat was—an overweight Siamese mix who had a miniature donkey at her beck and call. When she asked him about Clover, he ignored the question.

Mama had made herself at home in a pile of not-so-clean clothes that had missed the hamper. So far she’d been quiet, probably tuckered out. He’d find her a new home soon because even if the original owners came forward, he wasn’t giving her up to them. It was obvious they didn’t care. His landlord would eventually hear what Danny had in his rooms, and the lease had been clear. No animals. One of those rules he’d figured wouldn’t matter because Danny had never planned to stay. It had just been a place to put his gear between competitions. After becoming mayor and retiring from bull riding, he hadn’t had time to find a better place. On the other hand, his tiny apartment was convenient to the diner and the rooms were easy for him to clean with his meager housekeeping skills. The rent was cheap, too, freeing up money for his business.

He’d bought properties, purchased more or less as favors to the owners who couldn’t keep up with the repairs. The buildings had been sliding toward neglect, so he’d fixed them up, rented them back to the owners at a reasonable price and come up with a grander scheme than just living off rental income and handyman work.

Danny had wanted to buy warehouse properties near to the depot, some of them already broken up into small apartments. He’d also been able to purchase a half dozen buildings on and just behind Miner’s Gulch that needed TLC. He’d transform some of them into good housing at a good price. With his ties to bull riding, sisters nearby and friends in Tucson, he’d entice new families to move to Angel Crossing. The town was literally dying, the population aging every day. His homes wouldn’t be fancy, but they’d be affordable for couples just starting out. He’d mix in a few more expensive options so that the town didn’t get segregated into the haves and have-nots, as he’d seen in many places. After all was said and done, he’d make a little money and the town would be better.

He looked at Mama sleeping peacefully. Maybe he should see about recruiting a vet.

Losing the auction had been a blow to his long-term strategy. He couldn’t understand what Clover, or rather her father, wanted to do with the property. He’d searched online for her and found out that she was working for her dad now. He needed to do more checking. He had a vague memory of someone, somewhere in town saying that a New York City company had bought other properties.

He couldn’t find anything on Van Camp Worldwide’s website about a plan for Arizona. “Why would she buy those old warehouses by the tracks?” he asked the sleeping dog. “They’ll have to tear them down. That’s what I wanted to do. It was the only way to build anything that would appeal to first-time home buyers. I might have been able to reuse bits and pieces of the interior. Or if I could have found a group of artists, I thought about studios and living spaces. Guess I won’t get to do either.”

Mama sighed heavily and wiggled her brows before burrowing further into the clothing.

“I’m going to Jim’s,” he told the dog. He deserved a beer for the day he’d had. A little uncomplicated loving and attention would have been nice, too. Not happening as long as he lived in Angel Crossing. The downside of a small town was that if he made a move on anyone and it didn’t work out, he’d have to see her day after day. It had definitely put a damper on his love life.

* * *

“DO YOU REALLY do karaoke on Tuesdays?” Danny asked. He couldn’t believe the wood-paneled, domestic-beer-serving tavern ran anything that appealed to someone under the age of 70. He’d seen the sign before but hadn’t wanted to ask.

“Country-western only,” said Anita, the owner, who’d gotten the place from a former husband.

“Anyone any good?”

“Nah, but that don’t stop them.” She stared hard at Danny before going on. “Hear your high school sweetheart’s in Angel Crossing.”

The gossip nearly had it right. He didn’t even wonder about the speed of the stories that flew around town. “She and I dated over a summer when I was with the junior rodeo.”

“Makes sense. Couldn’t imagine how someone like her went to your high school. She was the rodeo queen or something?”

“Miss Steer Princess,” he corrected automatically.

“Huh,” Anita said before strolling off.

Danny wondered exactly what of that conversation would be shared. By the time he heard about him and Clover next week, they would have run away as teens to get married in Vegas only to be stopped by a gun-toting daddy. He smiled into his beer. Maybe the story wouldn’t be quite that clichéd.

“Mayor,” Irvin Miller said as he clapped Danny on the back and sat on the bar stool next to him.

“Mayor,” echoed his wife, Loretta. The two dressed alike and even the gray in their hair matched. If you saw one, you always saw the other. Anita served the couple without asking for their order. They always got the same drink: Coors Light draft in a mug that had not been stored in the freezer.

Irvin turned again to Danny after a sip of beer. “We heard that a big company out of New York City is buying up the town.”

“The old warehouse buildings by the depot. They were falling down and behind on taxes. It’ll be good to see it taken care of.”

“It’s not just that property. They’ve bought others and got plans.”

“I thought I remembered someone saying that a New York buyer had gotten a couple of places. And what’s wrong with having a plan? Angel Crossing could use a little revitalizing,” Danny said.

Loretta broke in. “I was at the town hall talking with Pru and she showed me what those Easterners want to do—turn our little metropolis into a resort called Rico Pueblo.”

“Resort?” Danny asked. “What the heck is Rico Pueblo?”

Irvin went on. “This VCW company owns a good third of the town already, according to Pru. The plans, though, came in with your lady friend.”

“Lady friend? Clover?”

“Yep,” Loretta said. “Her. She brought them in and told Pru that her daddy’s company wanted to improve Angel Crossing. Pru said your lady friend is asking the town council—” of which Loretta and Irvin were longtime members “—to rezone everything within two blocks of Miner’s Gulch into something she’s calling an entertainment zone. Everything will have to look a certain way, so they’ll tear down almost everything there and rebuild it. Businesses only, though, and that fit into ‘an integrated theme highlighting the Western ethos.’ We had to look it up and we still don’t understand what it means.”

“How are they going to get that many businesses? What about everyone already living here or the shops already there?”

Irvin took up the conversation. “Seems that they want to make something like Tombstone or Disneyland but fancier. No showdowns at noon and no saloon girls.”

“You’d mention the girls,” Loretta said.

Danny couldn’t imagine any company wanting to do that with Angel Crossing, but...the land was cheap, and it was within easy driving distance of Tucson and its airport. Was that really why Clover was here?

Irvin added after another sip of beer, “Pru said it’ll mean businesses and people will have to move. Not so sure about that.”

Maybe the Millers had it wrong about the company taking over the town and driving everyone out. It wouldn’t be the first time the couple had gotten only half of a story. “See you, folks,” Danny said as he quickly finished his beer and left. He’d just go and see Clover. Find out firsthand what she and VCW meant to do with Angel Crossing.

* * *

CLOVER SAT ON her front porch, looking out over the mountains as the sun made its finale. The streaks of purple tonight were a shade she should tell her mother about—not that her mother would care to hear from her. Still, it’d make a beautiful basis for a line of clothing. She sipped at her icy-cold glass of victory beer. She’d gotten another property they needed for this phase and submitted the concept plan to the clerk at the town hall. She’d wanted to wait, preferring not to tip the company’s hand for fear of driving up the other properties’ prices, but the timeline was tight. To get everything approved by the town, the county and the state in time, the process needed to start now. Actually, it should have started two months ago, but her brother had dropped the ball on that one.

The Rico Pueblo concept of “culturally appropriate” entertainment and retail mixed with residences would transform the town and its economy. There would be jobs and money coming in. It would change Angel Crossing, and for the better—obviously—because right now there wasn’t much to recommend the place. Faded facades, uneven sidewalks, potholes on the main street and homes with peeling paint and sagging roofs. She could see the revitalized “downtown” with meandering side streets radiating out to climb into the rugged terrain of the mountains. The residential area would be a combination of time-share rentals and housing managed by VCW. Then in additional phases there would be homes owned by individuals. This was the first project of its kind the company had tried. If they could iron out the kinks, this type of planned community could be used throughout the country. She already had ideas for at least six more venues. She just needed to make the numbers work here.

She nodded to a man walking a dog, which made her think of Mama and her own part in that sad story. Then Danny strolled up the road, stopping to talk with the dog walker. Of course. Because her evening had been going too well. She studied the changes between sixteen-year-old Danny and nearly thirty-year-old Danny—none of which were bad. He’d grown into his height, his shoulders filling out and his gait gaining confidence. Unlike many bull riders she’d seen over the years, he didn’t have any hitch in his step or even a visible scar. How had he ridden and won all of those years and come out unscathed? Because he was Danny Leigh.

He turned his head to her almost as if she’d called his name. He smiled. Her heart beat a little faster, just as it always had. Darn it. She was a grown woman, not a naive girl. More important, she had only one reason for being here and that was Rico Pueblo, not reliving a summer love affair.

Her eyes hadn’t left Danny, though. He lifted his hat in greeting and stumbled on an uneven bit of street. He righted himself easily, his smile never wavering. If she’d been her vain, beauty-queen self, she would have imagined that she’d made him stumble. Ha!

“Hello, Clover. I heard you were renting Dead Man’s Cottage.”

“That’s very funny.”

He came closer. “Really. That’s what it’s called. The first four owners were hung—one by mistake, the other three for stealing horses or silver.”

“Colorful,” Clover said, hoping alone at night she wouldn’t imagine feeling or seeing the ghosts of the men. “How’s Mama?”

“She’s settling in. I’ve got feelers out for a new home for her. It won’t be long until my landlord figures out that I’ve got a dog. But that’s not why I’m here.”

“Oh?” He was on the narrow porch now, standing over her. She was not intimidated nor interested. She was an MBA-toting businesswoman on her way to running an international corporation.

“I was speaking to Loretta and Irvin Miller. They’re on town council, and they told me something intriguing.”

“Did they?” She’d hoped her plans would be ignored a little longer, but she was prepared for this situation. She’d studied the town and her father’s venture, laying out every scenario and contingency.

“What are you up to? They said you want to tear down the town and rebuild it but restrict what and who can go where.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Fine. What Van Camp Worldwide is doing. Since your last name is Van Camp, I’d say it was you, too.”

“I submitted a concept plan.” She didn’t need to tell him anything until she was ready.

“Are you trying to ruin my town because I dumped you?”

She couldn’t stop the laugh. “I have an MBA from one of the best business schools in the US. I’m in line to become CFO of VCW. Why would I care about a teenage fling?” He stared at her, as if he was expecting her to really answer his question. “You actually believe that? That you dumped me? You must have very different memories than I do.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and didn’t blink. “I know I didn’t call you after that last show. I know you asked about me.”

He sounded triumphant. She checked his denim-blue eyes for mischief. Not an iota of levity. He was dead serious. “I was eighteen when we parted ways and on my way to Milan then college,” she said, not adding that she’d nearly given up on college to stay with him. She’d been a stupid-in-love girl then. “I never thought about you until I was assigned to come to Angel Crossing.”

“I know the ‘first time’ for a girl is a big deal.”

Dear Lord. She definitely remembered their first time. It hadn’t been a magical moment and was a memory she’d rather forget. They both had been nervous and inexperienced. The disappointment had been epic. “It must have been a big deal for you, too, since you told anyone who would listen.” She sounded snippier than she’d planned. She must still feel a little resentment. Who would have known?

“I apologize for that. My mama taught me better,” he said, dropping his arms and dipping his head.

She’d accept his meager apology. “Thank you. It’s a little late, though.”

“I’d have said it sooner, but my buddies kept ragging on me that a college girl who’d been to Italy wouldn’t be interested in a cowboy who was still in high school.”

She shrugged and took a sip of beer. He might be right but she still would have liked to have heard from him. To know that she wasn’t just some stupid, macho, cowboy conquest. “Would you like a beer?”

Danny hesitated, his blue eyes darkening to something akin to the brightening of a morning sky. “Thank you.”

She indicated that he should sit and went in to get him a beer from her limited stock. She’d invited him to have a drink because it was polite. There might be a little bit of the old chemistry. The tingly spark was just an echo of what they’d felt, that intense connection that happened only with a first love. He’d been her first love before he’d been her first lover. She smiled as she thought of their first and only time. His hands had been shaking so badly she’d had to unzip her own jeans.

“Here you are,” she said as she handed him the beer and pushed away the old memories. She had a job now. Get the properties VCW needed and convince the town to agree to their rezoning requests and restrictions, which would make Rico Pueblo possible. She couldn’t worry about what she’d heard about Danny. That he was starting a rehab and contracting business by buying properties in the same area VCW had slated for its entertainment zone.

He looked at the bottle carefully. “I never pegged you for a beer drinker.”

She shrugged. “The label has a horse’s head on it.”

He took a sip and then said, “You went to Wharton business school? I remember you saying that you wanted to be a designer.”

“I thought I wanted to follow in my mother’s footsteps. But my talent was more about the numbers and less about creating the perfect hemline. I switched gears partway through my undergrad program. What about you? Weren’t you going to go to your mom’s alma mater?”

“That was my mom’s idea anyway and I tried, but you know what I thought about school. When I started winning big at the bulls and bringing in a decent living, I knew if I went full-time I’d make it.”

“I can’t imagine your parents were thrilled you quit college.” She could imagine her own parents’ reaction, if she’d done something like that.

“They just wanted me to be happy. I can always go back to school, with all of the online classes.”

She nodded. “I heard you’ve become a builder or something?”

He talked about his work, then about his family, including his nearly new niece. “Jessie and Payson were so excited when she got pregnant, and now that little Gertie is here, they’re awful. Jessie has taken thousands of pictures and sends me all of them. See,” he said, passing along his phone with the picture album app open. Clover could hear and see the love he had for the baby. She would never have imagined that of the swaggering cowboy he’d been. Perhaps he really had changed. After all, she had. Being the prettiest girl in the room had stopped being important to her.

“So when are you going to settle down and have babies yourself?” she asked—because it seemed like what she should ask, not because she was dying to know.

“Would need to find the right woman.”

Clover refused to think about why she was relieved to hear that.

Danny went on. “What about you or your brother? Any little Van Camps?”

“Knox, well... He’s Knox. I’m focused on my career and working with VCW.”

“No boyfriend? No fiancé?”

She shook her head. “What about you?”

“Between my business and being mayor, I just don’t have the time.”

“That doesn’t sound like you. You said you could always make time for the ladies.”

“I said that in an interview when I was twenty-one and just won a buckle. You kept up with me?”

She may have followed his career...a little. Anyone’s first real boyfriend would hold a special spot in their heart. “I lived in Texas. I didn’t have much choice but to follow you and everyone else I knew from bull riding.”

“Good recovery.” He laughed, his blue eyes bright with humor. “I’d better get going. I don’t want Mama piddling in the apartment.” He unfolded himself from the chair and she stood, too.

“It was good to visit,” she said like the Texas beauty queen she’d been.

“Same here.” He didn’t move and his gaze remained on her.

Clover’s breath quickened just a little. That old flush of heat and desire worked its way through her. How could this be, more than ten years after that summer? Danny smiled slowly as he put out his hand to shake hers. She grasped it, exquisitely aware of the calluses scraping her palm, making her stomach dance with desire. She pulled her arm a little toward herself, feeling the passion that simmered between them. Danny didn’t hesitate but stepped into her, keeping their hands firmly clasped and placing his mouth over hers. Her neck arched and her lips eagerly sought his.

Chapter Four

Cotton candy and popcorn. Clover. The taste of her hadn’t changed, taking him back to that summer. The heat and passion, the fear and uncertainty. His hand moved along her familiar and new curves. Every one of them fit into his palm just right, despite the frequent numbness that made the grip in his right hand uncertain. He took one more deep taste of her, then pulled away.

“I’ve got to go,” he said, turning and walking down the hill toward his apartment, where he’d find beer in the fridge and a dog waiting for him.

“Danny Leigh,” Clover yelled at him, losing her beauty-queen coolness. “Sticking your tongue down my throat doesn’t change anything.”

He waved his arm at her without turning.

“Way to go, Mayor,” a man standing in his front garden said, giving Danny a thumbs-up.

Danny hadn’t meant to kiss Clover. Maybe it was the past sneaking up on him. That was happening a lot since she’d come to town. Even when his friend and riding buddy AJ McCreary had moved to town, Danny’s time on the back of a bull had felt far away. He’d been able to put all of that behind him. Between being mayor, rehabbing houses and doing handyman work, he’d been content. He’d been busy—too busy to worry that he didn’t have much of a social life. Who needed that when he was so industrious, just like a worker bee. The ladies would always be there, he told himself.

Even better—with his sister Jessie and her husband, Payson, having produced the first grandchild, he was under less pressure to settle down. He could take his time and help his town be its best. Pepper and AJ had started changing Angel Crossing for the better with their community garden and farmers’ market. Stylish and affordable housing like he planned would encourage new residents to give the town a try.

Danny walked up the stairs to his small apartment, hoping that he wouldn’t find a mess. He ran through people who might want a dog and puppies. He was coming up with a zero. Mama wasn’t really big enough to be much of a threat to wild animals or intruders but was too big to be a lapdog. She was an awkward size and who knew what the puppies were.

Mama waddled to him as soon as he got in the door. The apartment looked as neat as it ever did. He put a blanket over her to hide what he was carrying in case someone squealed to his landlord. He carried the wiggling animal down the stairs and through the back lot, past the restaurant’s Dumpster. Once they reached a patch of low scrub, he put her down. The grass nearly hid her and her rhinestone collar and leash. She sniffed and quickly got down to business. He’d brought along a bag and would throw away what he had to in the Dumpster. She sat down, tired out from the very short walk. She couldn’t be too long from delivery, he thought. He vaguely recollected one of their dogs having puppies as a kid, but he only remembered how cute they were, not the lead up or the process of them being born. He’d call his folks for advice. Maybe they would want a dog to go with them on their travels. Plus, they had a ton of friends. One or more of them might want a puppy.

He carried the dog back to the apartment, where he fed her and gave her clean water. Then he dialed his parents and left a message.

He took a beer from his fridge and sat in his tiny living room with his laptop open and the TV on the Bull Riding Network. He rubbed at his numb fingers, the ones the doctor told him might regain feeling or not. Sometimes he was sure they were better. Then he’d go to pick up a glass and drop it. Still, he’d retired. He’d refused to regret that it had been an “injury” that took him out, not that he’d told anyone that. When he’d said he was retiring because he wanted to go out on top, none of his friends had questioned him.

“Friends in Low Places” sang out from his phone. It was an old riding buddy who was watching the same competition on TV. They were both sitting this one out—Danny because he was retired and Frank because he’d reinjured his foot. Danny was on beer three when they said goodbye. He considered going to bed and taking Mama out for her final potty break before the long night. Maybe one more beer then bed? Good idea.

He finished his longneck and went to get himself another, liking this slightly floating feeling. He was completely relaxed, not worrying about the dog—who really needed a new name—about his town or about Clover. Dang it. Her taste and curves popped back into his mind, and he tried to focus on the TV.

By the time the contest and another beer were done, he was ready for bed. First he’d take the dog out one last time. He didn’t want any accidents. Dang, it was a pain having a dog in a second-floor apartment. Fortunately, because it was dark and late, he didn’t need to bundle her up and carry her down the stairs. He could lead her with her sparkly leash. He went down the steps, the floating feeling continuing as he stumbled over a stone or two. Definitely time for this cowboy to hit the hay. Mama did her business fast. Danny started back to the apartment.

He got to the bottom of the stairs and Mama scrabbled toward the top, pulling on the leash. Danny meant to let go but his numb fingers didn’t work as well as they should and she jerked on his arm as he stepped up, pulling him off balance. Danny face-planted on the stairs and saw stars. He cursed as the dog darted to the top and barked at him.

He lay sprawled on the stairs, glad no one was nearby. He needed to catch his breath and check for damage. Not much. More pride than anything. He pushed himself up and Mama barked.

“Jutht a minute.” What the hell? He used his tongue to explore the hole at the front of his mouth. Son of a— The fall had knocked out the fake tooth he’d gotten as a kid after a spectacular crash on his minibike. Great. Nothing he could do tonight. He walked slowly up the stairs, the pain from the fall and the throbbing in his mouth telling him tomorrow morning would not be fun. Hell. He was a bull rider. Retired bull rider. Still, he’d lived through worse.

“Inthide, Mama,” he said and opened the door. She scooted past him and sat on the floor, fluffy tail wagging, waiting for her treat and the leash to come off. “Proud of yourthelf?” The dog barked. Wait till she had to eat generic food because he had to spend all of his money on a new tooth.

Maybe Clover would buy some of the expensive brand she’d bought at Lem’s—but, no, he wasn’t asking her for anything. They’d been a summer-lovin’ teen thing. They were adults and she’d already messed with his plans, just like she had that summer. He wasn’t getting stupid over her again. He’d learned a lot since their time together. He wouldn’t be showing her exactly what he’d learned, though. At best they were Angel Crossing–style neighbors. At worst, they were businesspeople on opposite sides of the fence.

He gave Mama a treat, took an aspirin and lay down in his sagging bed that nearly filled the room. He really needed to move. As soon as he got more properties sold and had a little cash, he’d find his own place and redo it the way he wanted. What he had now was good enough. The bed dipped under Mama’s weight and she dug at the covers as he moved his legs to accommodate her. He shouldn’t let her on the bed, but he was too tired to make her get down.

“Don’t have puppyth,” he told her as he settled into his pillow, “pleathe.”

She sighed deeply and scooted to take up more of the bed.

* * *

CLOVER USED HER confident pageant walk to get her across the threshold and into Jim’s Tavern, the only bar in town. She wanted to check it out and determine if it was the kind of kitschy business that would appeal to the Rico Pueblo clientele. Her father had said he’d prefer buying up everything and starting over. Clover, however, had outlined an approach that would purchase properties and work with current business owners so VCW could best leverage its investment—that was what she’d told her father, anyway.

Few patrons glanced Clover’s way. Instead, they were glued to the stage and the two women laughing their way through a country duet. Neither could sing but they didn’t care. The crowd was with them, laughing along and clapping. Actually, most of the crowd was women... Not most. All of the patrons were women and there was a woman behind the bar. Now, this was interesting. Not what Clover had expected. That seemed to be the case again and again in Angel Crossing.

“Whoa! Clover,” said the tall light-haired woman with the karaoke microphone in her hand. “Come up here. You can sing a lot better than us. Sing that song you did when you were named Miss Steer Princess? ‘God Bless the USA.’”

Clover looked harder at the cowgirl who was motioning her forward and the short dark-haired woman beside her. Danny’s sisters. The two women had been on the road with their brother back when Clover had been the princess. She’d had an okay voice because her mother insisted she take lessons.

Lavonda chimed in, “Or you could sing ‘It’s Raining Men.’”

She’d sung that song during a rain delay at a rodeo. Of course Lavonda would remember that. Clover didn’t want to humiliate herself but she could go along with the suggestion to get a few brownie points from the women of Angel Crossing. She’d need allies. Clover walked with purpose and grace to the open area set aside for the singing.

“Whoop, whoop,” Jessie said. “This’ll be a treat.”

“Anything’s better than the two of you,” a woman heckled. Jessie and Lavonda laughed.

Clover smiled at the audience of women. They actually looked friendly.

“We cued up the song,” Lavonda said, her dark eyes and hair so different from her light-haired older sister’s. “Good to see you again.” Then the smaller woman leaned forward and whispered quietly, “Heard you’ve been visiting with Danny. What’s that about, huh?”

Clover just smiled. The speed at which gossip zipped through a small town shouldn’t be a surprise. Who needed newspapers or TV when there was such an efficient way to pass along information?

Jessie and Lavonda went back to their bar stools, and Clover sang. She’d forgotten how much fun it was to perform. She hammed it up for the audience and got talked into singing another two songs before giving up the mic. She was parched. The Leigh sisters motioned for her to join them. She wanted to say no, but there was no polite way to bow out. Plus, the two of them might give her more insight into the town and what the mayor had planned.

“What do you want? We’re buying,” Lavonda said. Jessie stayed silent. She’d always been the quiet one.

“A beer.”

“Anita, a beer for the best performer of the night.”

Jessie took a drink. “You in town to buy it?”

“Something like that,” Clover said. There was no use lying. Everyone had heard about her buying the warehouses at the end of Miner’s Gulch, plus other properties. When Rico Pueblo opened, she would rename the street Torro Boulevard.

“My husband, Jones, and I are curious about your plans,” Lavonda said with a pleasant smile. “We own a guide company and more people visiting here would certainly be great for our finances. But this area is ecologically fragile. There are archaeological sites nearby that need to be protected, too.”

Clover hadn’t known about any sites. There hadn’t been any noted on any of the surveys or maps. “There are?” she asked noncommittally.

“Jones has been exploring. He’s an archaeologist.”

Clover nodded, waiting for more from Lavonda.

“Talk about that another time,” Jessie said. “I want to hear what Clover’s been up to, besides being a business mogul.”

Clover tried to understand what Jessie was really asking and decided to take her at face value. She gave them the short version. “What about you?” she asked Jessie when she’d finished her short bio. “Still riding, even with the baby?”

“Not the trick riding,” Jessie said. “Gave that up, but I have a therapeutic horse-riding program for youngsters. Kids with physical and emotional challenges.”

Lavonda added, “Don’t get her started on Gertie. We’re out so that she can live it up and act like a normal human being.”

Jessie gave her sister a dirty look, the kind of sibling communication Clover always wanted to have with Knox and didn’t.

Lavonda said, “This is the first time Jessie has gone out on her own since Gertie made her grand entrance. That girl already has the flair for the dramatic.”

“She does?”

“Yes,” Lavonda said, shushing her sister. “Jessie’s husband is a pediatric surgeon, operated on thousands of kids, probably. When Gertie made her appearance at their ranch—Jessie kept saying the pain wasn’t bad enough to go to the hospital—he fainted. Smacked down on the floor. The three of them shared an ambulance.”

“Stop telling that story. That’s not the way it happened,” Jessie said. “Payson didn’t faint. He tripped.”

“He tripped because he was faint.”

“Faint because he hadn’t eaten or slept.”

The sisters bantered back and forth for a few minutes before returning to their interrogation.

“Bet you were surprised that Danny is mayor, huh?” Lavonda asked.

“He was a popular rider,” Clover said flatly.

“Popular with you,” Jessie mumbled, sounding suddenly unfriendly.

“We were very young.”

“You’re older by a couple of years, aren’t you?” Jessie asked without a hint of humor.

“I don’t remember,” Clover lied.

“Really?” Jessie’s sage-green gaze locked on to Clover. “Never knew a woman who forgot her first—”

“Danny is our baby brother,” Lavonda broke in. “We might feel a little protective.”

“He’s a grown man,” Clover reminded them. “I don’t think he’d appreciate you discussing his...private life.”

“Sorry about that. Like Lavonda said, he’s our baby brother.”

“He’s lucky to have you two,” she said, meaning it. Nothing like her and Knox. They had shuttled between their separated parents until Knox settled with their dad in New York and she chased tiaras with her mother in Texas.

Lavonda smiled and said, “He’ll probably disown us...again...if you tell him we talked to you. So could we just keep this between us hens?” Jessie nodded agreement.

“Sure,” Clover said. “One thing, though. Why did Danny agree to be mayor? He won’t tell me.”

“That’s his story,” Jessie said, “and it’s time I head back to my baby. Come on, Lavonda.”

“I’m proud of you. I expected us to leave at least an hour ago.”

Clover watched the sisters stand and said, “It was good seeing you, and your secret is safe with me.”

“Wait—one more thing,” Lavonda said as Jessie gave her an impatient look. “This isn’t a warning or anything. Danny is different than when he was a teen, but one thing that hasn’t changed is how much he...cared for you when you were young.”

Before Clover could respond, the women walked away. What did they mean by that? Danny had some torch for her? But they said to leave him alone? The bonds between siblings made her envious and confused. She didn’t understand exactly how it all worked.

Time to finish her beer and head home. The chat with Danny’s sisters hadn’t been anything more than a little girl talk. A lot of water and everything else had passed under the bridge since Danny and she had been a couple. He might be a better kisser and had aged well. That didn’t mean anything more than that she’d been working too hard and neglecting her social life. She’d take care of that as soon as this project got off the ground.

She’d spend her time reworking her numbers and tweaking her presentation for the council. She planned to win over this town and prove to her father she was the kind of executive he needed. Not much at all riding on this upcoming meeting, where she’d be laying it on the line in front of an old boyfriend who could still make her forget her name when they kissed.

Chapter Five

As he waited for the town-council meeting to start, Danny’s tongue pushed at the empty space between his teeth. The dentist required payment up front and Danny was a little short. He’d been desperate enough to look on the ground around the stairs for the knocked-out tooth but he hadn’t found it. He’d been nodding along to the conversation, not opening his mouth and holding his lip down over the gap. He’d never thought of himself as vain, but a big old hole in his mouth made him want to hide.

Of course, Clover, in a professional but formfitting suit, sat front and center in the audience at the council meeting. Her proposal was number two on the agenda, after the Pledge of Allegiance. He looked around at the four other members of the board. They’d called Angel Crossing home all of their lives, and like a lot of the old-timers, they didn’t want their town to change. But they also understood that without change their children and grandchildren would never stay. He had a vague idea of how they might view Van Camp Worldwide’s proposal. He’d been explaining his own ideas, but they were long-term solutions, not the quick one that Clover would be presenting.

The president of the board looked at his watch and hammered down the gavel. “Let’s get this show on the road. I want to be home before that dancing program starts. Everyone stand for the Pledge.”

Danny stood, turned to the flag and caught the gleam of Clover’s auburn hair out of the corner of his eye. He would not be distracted by her or the memories of their recent kiss.

“Miss Van Camp,” said Bobby Ames, the president of the board and Angel Crossing’s lone attorney and taxidermist. “Your presentation, please. You have ten minutes.”

Clover stood and picked up a stack of printouts. She quickly went down the table handing out the colorful and slick paper. Danny would not feel bad that he hoped her big-city presentation raised the hackles on his fellow board members.

“I am here on behalf of Van Camp Worldwide,” Clover started.

“We know that, missy. Get to the point. What do you want us to do for you?”

She looked a little flustered, but her smile seemed genuine. “It’s more what we can do for you all,” she said, a Texas twang suddenly entering her voice, making her sound more like the girl he’d met on the junior rodeo circuit.

“Give everyone a job and a thousand dollars,” Loretta Miller said.

“I wish I could help y’all out.”

Boy, she was laying it on thick. Didn’t she know that Arizona wasn’t Texas?

“Seven minutes,” Bobby said.

Clover took in a long breath and stood with regal, beauty-queen posture. “Van Camp Worldwide can provide the town with a viable plan to transform it into a new style of resort that will bring both jobs and tax revenue.”

“That’s what they all say,” Loretta muttered to Irvin.

“The materials I’ve provided outline in detail our proposal.” She went on before Bobby could interrupt her with another time check. “We will and have purchased properties at fair market price, but I’m before this body because we need to secure permission to rezone the Miner’s Gulch corridor and demolish the properties from just north of the town hall to the railroad.”

“Wait,” Danny interrupted. He had properties along Miner’s Gulch. He needed the zoning to remain as is for his own plan to work. He’d already sunk a chunk of his savings into his own revitalization project. She’d messed up part of his plan when she’d purchased the warehouse properties. “I talked with everyone about what I wanted to do. I’ll use local labor and end up with affordable housing for residents—a mix of senior, family and singles. It’s just what we need.”

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