“We’re expecting a baby. But I never courted you, not in the traditional way. Did you miss that?”

“Sort of, but given our family histories, we didn’t have any choice.” In truth, she’d mostly been happy sneaking off with him. “How about you?”

“Fantasies kept the relationship alive for me—remembering what really happened between us and imagining more. It’s just…we never got to know each other well.”

It wasn’t until that moment that she also realized they hadn’t. Not really. Even now, they tiptoed around each other, testing each other’s reactions. “I guess not.”

He brushed her hair from her face, then touched her ear, her cheek, her jaw. “I know that you like it when I kiss this spot under your ear.”

He leaned forward and did just that, sending shivers through her.

Red Valley Ranchers: Brothers who work the land…side by side with the women they love!

An Early

Christmas Gift

Susan Crosby

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SUSAN CROSBY believes in the value of setting goals, but also in the magic of making wishes, which often do come true—as long as she works hard enough. Along life’s journey she’s done a lot of the usual things—married, had children, attended college a little later than the average co-ed and earned a BA in English. Then she dove off the deep end into a full-time writing career, a wish come true.

Susan enjoys writing about people who take a chance on love, sometimes against all odds. She loves warm, strong heroes and good-hearted, self-reliant heroines, and she will always believe in happily-ever-after.

More can be learned about her at www.susancrosby.com.

MILLS & BOON

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For my heroines—Georgia Bockoven, Robin Burcell

and Christine Rimmer—oustanding writers, generous

friends and loving women. Thank you from the top

and bottom of my heart.

And with thanks to Gail and David Winslow,

creators and owners of the gorgeous Mt. Shasta

Lavender Farms. Your input was invaluable.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Jenny Ryder’s senses heightened as she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the hundred-year-old building. Anxiety tasted sharp in her mouth. Cars rumbled along Main Street, vibrating under her feet. And the majestic sight of the cloud-covered Gold Ridge Mountain was reflected in the Bank of Red Valley’s glass door as she grabbed the cold metal pull. She had an appointment with the bank president, Jacob Campbell, who held her future in his hands.

She felt all grown up in the bank’s cool, quiet environment, and was glad she’d dressed like a woman who meant business, not a college student.

Jenny glanced around, not seeing anyone she knew well enough to greet beyond a wave and a smile, even though she’d been born and raised in the small northern California city. She headed straight to Mr. Campbell’s office. His assistant greeted Jenny, then led the way to the open door.

The sixtyish man stood and offered his hand. “No pigtails anymore, I see.”

“I couldn’t if I tried,” she said. She’d had her wavy auburn hair cut to a more carefree chin length last week. Wash and wear. She’d save time and energy during what she hoped would be very busy days ahead.

“Have a seat, Jenny.”

Her knees almost gave way as she lowered herself into a chair across the desk from him. A folder lay open on top. Even upside down she recognized the request-for-loan document she’d painstakingly filled out. Behind it would be her business plan and a personal plea. Her family’s business, Ryder Ranch, had been the bank’s first customer a hundred years ago. The relationship had held steady through the economic ups and downs of cattle ranching. That should mean something.

“So, you’re the last college graduate of your family. That’s quite an accomplishment,” Mr. Campbell said.

“Our parents were uncompromising,” she said with a smile.

“But you majored in farm management, even though the family business is cattle ranching.”

“There wouldn’t have been room for me at the ranch, not in any position of consequence.” She tried not to fidget but she really wanted to end the small talk and get on with her life.

“I can see how anxious you are,” Mr. Campbell said, “so I won’t make you wait. The loan committee denied your request. I’m sorry.”

She felt as if she’d plunged headlong into a wind tunnel. She saw his mouth moving but couldn’t hear the words over the roar in her head. Denied. She’d been counting on—

“I wish I could refer you to someone else, Jenny, but I doubt you’ll find a bank willing to give a novice a loan. Unless, of course, your father will cosign, but you indicated you didn’t want to ask him. Without collateral and a great deal of experience in the field, no one will want to take that kind of risk. You don’t even have an income.”

Technically she had collateral. She just couldn’t use it. “If I got the loan, I’d have a job,” she said, trying to smile. Keeping a tight rein on her emotions, she shook his hand before she escaped. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Campbell. I appreciate it.”

“Wish I had a different answer for you.”

“Me, too.”

Thirty seconds later she was headed out of town, going nowhere in particular. Just going.

* * *

Win Morgan had heard Jenny Ryder was coming home. He’d checked her college’s website for the date of her graduation ceremony—June eighth—and figured she’d be back this week, but he hadn’t expected to see her right away.

But there she was, almost burning rubber as she took the main road out of town in her fuel-efficient car, which stuck out like a sore thumb among the abundance of pickup trucks.

Win grimaced as she swerved to avoid a truck pulling away from the curb, but it didn’t slow her down. She was upset. Or mad.

Or afraid of something?

She’d always been a little high-strung and a lot stubborn, but four years of college should’ve settled her some, matured her.

Worried, he got into his truck and followed. He had something important to tell her, had already waited too long to do so. Now was as good a time as any—especially since calling on her at Ryder Ranch was impossible. He was a Morgan, after all, and therefore from the enemy camp, their families rival cattle ranchers for more than 150 years.

A light rain started splattering his windshield as Win scouted the land for signs of her. Hay fields claimed most of the area, except for a grove of trees way off in the distance, at river’s edge. Would she have gone there? It seemed unlikely, but there wasn’t anywhere else. She would’ve been kicking up dust if it hadn’t been sprinkling, which lessened his odds of tracking her.

As he neared the grove, he spotted her fire-engine-red car headfirst in a ditch. Panic struck, then he saw her pop up and start kicking a tire again and again. “I work hard,” she shouted. “Harder than any man.”

Her feet went out from under her. She landed with a thud, yelling “Ouch!” then adding a few expletives for good measure.

He made his way toward the ditch. If she’d seen him, she hadn’t given any indication of it. “You okay?”

Her eyes went wide. Then she curled her arms over her face and laughed, the tone more manic than humorous. “Great. This is just great. The worst moment of my life, and you’re the one who witnesses it. My luck runneth over.”

He crouched next to her, eyeing her for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride. And my car.” She waved a hand toward the offending vehicle.

Apparently she was blaming the car, not the operator, for the accident. “Why were you driving like a bat outta hell?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Her shoulders slumped.

He’d rather see her mad than defeated, so he strode away. He heard her scramble to her feet.

“Wait. Please, Win. What about my car?” She hurried after him.

“I’m sure any of your big brothers or your father will come to your rescue.” He turned and walked backward, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah. No cell service out here. Well, good luck with that, princess.”

She plunked her fists on her hips. Good. He’d made her mad. She was back to being Jenny.

“You must own a satellite phone,” she said.

“Must I?” He hadn’t imagined wanting her still, not after all this time. The shock of it burst inside him, sending need and pain through every cell, every nerve. He had to fight the desire that had never died.

“Did you follow me?” she asked, narrowing her gaze at him, brushing the rain from her face.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

He hesitated. They were already taking one secret to their graves. He couldn’t hold tight to his bigger secret, one that affected her, too. Still, he didn’t know if he could tell her now. They were both too charged up, even if for different reasons....

Coward.

Damn straight.

“You cut your hair,” he said.

She touched it but said nothing as they faced each other like duelists. Then the rain stopped being just a sprinkle and turned into a torrent. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him to his truck. The same truck in which they’d slept together for the first time four years ago. How the hell was he supposed to chase that image away?

“Do you have a towel or something?” Jenny asked, shoving her dripping hair from her face and plucking at her white blouse.

A blue bandanna landed in her lap.

“That’s all I have. Sorry.”

Jenny used it on her face. It smelled like him. Even after all these years, she remembered how he smelled. Tasted. Felt. His brown eyes and hair might be considered ordinary, but there was nothing ordinary about him. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and all man.

And the attraction was still there, sizzling, as if it had happened yesterday. It was why she’d avoided him every time she’d come home on school breaks.

Then she remembered he said he had something to tell her. Her heart pounded. She looked at his left hand. No ring. But maybe that was about to change.

She touched his bare ring finger, then jerked her hand back. Idiot. She had no claims on him. Why did she think she had the right—

“I haven’t gotten married,” he said. “Guess you ruined me for anyone else.”

She couldn’t tell whether that was the truth or he was trying to lighten the moment with sarcasm. “Are you living with someone?”

His brows went up, but he answered, “Six ranch hands in a bunkhouse.”

“Are you sleeping with anyone?” Mortified, she shoved her face in her hands. “Forget that. Please. I don’t know why I asked.”

He seemed amused by her embarrassment. “Well, there’s a mouse who seems particularly fond of me.” He took the bandanna she tossed back at him and dried his face. “Why are you interested in my love life, Jen?”

“You said you wanted to talk to me. I figured...” She let the words trail. Really, what else could it be, except that he was seeing someone? She made a sound of helplessness. “I could really use a drink about now.”

He leaned behind the driver’s seat and grabbed a sack. “Your wish is my command,” he said, presenting her with the six-pack of beer he’d just bought, bowing slightly, the steering wheel keeping the gesture small.

It made her smile. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

He put away the bag. “Well, thanks for the walk down memory lane, anyway,” he said, glancing at her wet shirt.

Just having him look at her made her nipples go hard. She put an arm across her breasts, covering herself, but hiding wouldn’t do any good, and she knew it. He would remember what she looked like, the same as she remembered him. Nothing changed the fact that she’d given her virginity to him in a glorious moment, and in this very truck. He’d been patient and tender. They’d spent the summer after he’d graduated from college and she from high school meeting when they could in a private niche among the nearby grove of trees. One summer of stolen moments, of emotions taut and explosive—the thrill of a forbidden union, the shock of loving beyond understanding, at least on her part.

Now here they were, four years later, sitting in his truck, the rain creating a magic curtain around them, making it seem as if they were in a world of their own.

Memories assaulted her right and left. Her hands shook. She crossed her arms.

“Cold?” he asked.

She shook her head. “There’s just so much going on in my head, snapshots like they sometimes show on TV, images flashing so quickly you can hardly keep up with them.”

“Good or bad?”

“Mostly good. Some painful.” She touched her fingers to her lips as if he’d just kissed her.

“I know....” He cupped her face with his hand. He didn’t ask permission—maybe he could already see she was willing. He pulled her closer. She expected a gentle kiss, one of remembrance, maybe even a kind of friendship they might have after all this time.

But he groaned as he kissed her, not wasting time with finesse but devouring her, arousing her, reawakening and rekindling what had been. His lips were familiar...yet not. His large, rough, trembling hands roamed over her, unbuttoning her blouse and pants. He maneuvered, shifted and angled their bodies until they were both undressed and in the passenger seat, Jenny on top. She lowered herself onto him.

There was homecoming and welcome, and newness, too. She remembered everything about him—and nothing.

Finally she was draped over him, both of them struggling to breathe, and the rain stopped as quickly as it started. The windows were steamed up from their breath and body heat, but the shield of rain was gone.

She sat up and studied his face. What are you thinking? she wanted to ask, knowing she didn’t dare, not unless she wanted to know the answer. She didn’t. He’d made it clear in his years of silence that he wanted nothing from her anymore. Even before, he’d only wanted sex. Their families were rivals. Their union never was meant to be.

But then he dragged his fingers down her bare body. “Do you ever think—”

“Yes.” She kissed him to stop the rest of the question, then they went about getting presentable again. Her hands shook. He brushed them away and buttoned her blouse.

Then he passed her his phone. “I don’t have any chains in the truck or I’d try to pull you out of the ditch.”

She called her father. He would assess the situation before they decided whether they needed a tow truck.

“You probably shouldn’t be here when they arrive,” she said to Win.

“I imagine they would think I was just being neighborly. Anyway, if they have caller ID, they already know whose phone you used.”

She hadn’t thought of that.

He eyed her directly, as if waiting for more from her. “Well. That was an unexpected pleasure,” he said as he tucked her hair behind her ear then caressed her earlobe.

“Who would’ve thought that the next time I saw you, we’d make love,” she said. She started to climb out of the truck, but turned back to him. “Wait a minute. You said you wanted to talk to me.”

She saw hesitation in his eyes.

“Another time. Welcome home, Jen.”

He took off immediately. She watched his truck until she couldn’t see it anymore. She refused to give in to the tornado of emotions swirling through her. She also needed to pull herself together before her father arrived, especially if her all-seeing mother tagged along. Jenny had come home a day early, wanting to surprise them. She needed to seem happy and excited.

Except she was mostly confused. Win Morgan wasn’t just her first lover. They’d also been married—for a month.

That was some history they had. She had to keep that secret forever, along with the fact she’d loved him with all her heart, had told him so every day—even though she’d only been a diversion and a responsibility to him. And that part she didn’t want to think about. Even though she did. Every single day.

A line of pickups came up the road a little while later—her father and three of her brothers, all there to help.

She was home. It could only get better from here.

Chapter Two

Even though Jenny had seen most of her family a few days ago for her graduation ceremony, seeing them now, after being denied the loan and having crashed her car and made love with Win, brought tears to her eyes. No one questioned it, assuming she was just happy to be home. Which she was. And wasn’t.

Her mother cupped her face and looked into her eyes as the men pondered her car from every angle and the best way to extricate it.

“What’s wrong?” Dori Ryder asked, tipping back her straw cowboy hat.

Although Jenny had the Ryder blue eyes, she looked like her mother, which was a good thing, in Jenny’s opinion. “Just feeling emotional.”

“You were lucky to escape injury.”

“Yes.” If her mother wanted to think that, it was fine with Jenny.

Dori put an arm around Jenny’s shoulder and walked them closer to the men. “Your father says your call came through on Win Morgan’s phone.”

“He happened by. He didn’t have chains, so he couldn’t help.”

“Why didn’t he stay? What if the clouds had opened up again?”

“He left just before you got here. I told him to go.”

“Was he bothering you?”

Jenny narrowly stopped herself from laughing hysterically. “Why would you ask that?”

“You seem particularly agitated.”

“I think having my car in a ditch would be reason enough for that.”

“Jenny, my sweet,” her mother said, “you’ve been able to go with the flow all your life. Nothing ever shakes you.”

“Well, I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Dori laughed and pulled Jenny in for a tighter hug. “Twenty-two is old now, is it?”

“It’s sixty in horse years.”

Her mother grinned. “Have you got a tail hidden in those...pants? Um, you’re not wearing Wranglers? Seriously, Jen, what’s going on?”

“Didn’t get laundry done before I hit the road.”

“Jenny,” her father called out. “We’re gonna call Tex. We can chain ’er up and pull ’er out, but she’s gonna need repairs before you can drive it again. Tex might as well just do the whole job.”

“Whatever you think, Dad.”

“Dori, why don’t you and Jen head on home? You can get the party started. I’ll ride with Mitch.”

“I’ll give you my credit card,” Jenny said, stepping forward.

“The hell you will. Tex’ll be glad to swap for some beef, as always.”

And so it begins.... She would be living at the homestead again, therefore her father would “handle” things for her.

“You’re too quiet,” her mother said as they drove toward the ranch.

Jenny reacted to the seeming criticism. “Well, Mom, in the past two weeks I wrote three papers, took five final exams, graduated, packed and shipped my belongings, then drove home alone from Arizona in two days. I deserve to be tired.”

“And snippy?”

Jenny blew out a breath. She was being unreasonable. “I’m sorry. I really am. It’s just that until now I’ve always known what came next for me. At the moment, my future is one giant question mark.”

“Really? I had the feeling you had big plans in mind. You and Vaughn always had your heads together, talking business.”

“Pipe dreams. The truth is that four years of advanced education, given the job situation here, still means I’ll probably be asking if you want fries with that.”

“I don’t think it’ll be that bad. This is farm country. You’ll find something.”

“Profit margins are too small in the family farms to bring in an outsider.” Jenny was done talking about it. “So, did I mess things up by coming home a day early? We could put off my welcome-home party until tomorrow, you know.”

“We’ll eat an hour later than planned, that’s all.”

They turned onto the road leading to Ryder Ranch—home. Jenny had been back several times a year, most recently on Valentine’s Day for her brother Vaughn’s wedding, but this felt different. This time she wouldn’t be leaving. Her childhood bedroom awaited her, looking the same as the day she left for college. She would have to report where she was going and when she would be back—not because her parents were tyrants, but because it was the courteous thing to do. Still, it felt like an intrusion into her independence.

Then a thought occurred to her. “Is it hard having me come home after all these years empty nesting, Mom?”

“It’s different.”

Which was a vague answer. In her selfishness, she hadn’t considered her parents, only herself. “I’ll find a job and an apartment as soon as I can.” Maybe her sister, Haley, would let her stay with her for a while. She lived in town, which would be more fun, anyway.

“Of course you will,” Dori said, patting her daughter’s knee.

That clinched it. She hadn’t even placated Jenny by saying there’s no hurry or some other motherly thing.

At the ranch, Dori immediately went into party mode. Jenny was a vegetarian, so a portobello mushroom would be grilled along with the steaks. The side dishes would be diverse and plentiful.

For at least a few hours Jenny didn’t have time to fret, especially once her two new sisters-in-law came to help and the conversation got noisy and filled with laughter that didn’t stop.

But the moment she saw her brother Vaughn, everything changed.

“I expected a call from you,” he said, taking her aside.

“They denied the loan.” She held up a hand. “I know. I know. You told me they probably wouldn’t take me on.”

“So will you ask Dad to cosign?”

She shook her head. “Plan B.”

“Which is?”

“When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

Her sister-in-law Annie came up to them. “You haven’t announced a job, so I’m wondering if you have one lined up.”

“Not yet.”

Annie laid a hand on her pregnant belly. “I was hoping you might help me out for a while? It’s the start of the summer season for me, and being seven months along as I am, I’m finding some limitations I can’t overcome on my own. Even with all the tall bedding boxes instead of in-the-ground planting, I’m doing too much bending and kneeling, and too much lifting and toting.”

A glimmer of hope touched Jenny’s heart as she waited to hear the rest of what Annie had to say.

“I know that it wouldn’t be using your degree in the way you want to,” Annie said, “but you helped out at Christmas, and we worked well together, and I thought you had fun, too. I’d pay you.”

Hope burst into happiness inside Jenny. “I’d love to!” Annie’s organic farm was ideal in Jenny’s book. Annie had taken the deserted property and turned it into a business that was growing so fast she almost couldn’t keep up with it. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow?”

Jenny crushed her. “Does this constitute a group hug, with the baby in the middle?” she asked Annie, laughing. “Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”

“Don’t know and don’t care,” her brother Mitch said, coming up beside Annie and sliding his arm around her waist. “Did she say yes?”

“Enthusiastically,” Annie said. “Austin will be happy, too. My eleven-year-old son would rather be working on the ranch than the farm during his summer vacation. Imagine that. And next Monday is the first farmers’ market of the season. If you could help with that, I’d be grateful, maybe even take over for the rest of the season?”

“That would be fun.”

The relief in Mitch’s eyes told Jenny everything. He’d been worried Annie was doing too much. She probably had been.

Jenny’s mood improved after that. She felt wanted and needed. She would have someplace to be every morning and work to do.

Later, after the dishes were done and the company gone, Jenny slipped into her twin bed with the denim bedspread she’d bought while in high school. The photos and posters on the walls were the same. Her yearbooks were stacked on a bookshelf. She’d grown up a lot the summer after graduation, but even that wasn’t reflected in the room, not to mention her years of college.

She didn’t have to give much thought to why she’d made love with Win today. It was another thing that hadn’t changed—she was still in love with him.

And for him it was still just sex.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Whoever said that couldn’t have been more right.

* * *

Life on Annie’s farm, The Barn Yard, was like a constant family reunion. Jenny’s brothers Adam and Brody had moved into the farmhouse when Mitch and Annie got married last October. In exchange for rent, they’d remodeled the kitchen and bathroom then painted every room.

They weren’t much on keeping house, but their only other choice would’ve been to move back into the homestead or the old bunkhouse. At ages twenty-seven and thirty, they were too old to move home, and the bunkhouse had been commandeered by their newest sister-in-law, Vaughn’s wife, Karyn, who was overseeing a remodeling of that structure for a new tourist venture for the ranch.

The brothers left the farm early each day to work at the ranch, twenty miles away. Mitch dropped in frequently to make sure his pregnant wife was okay and to do any heavy lifting, often bringing Annie’s son with him. And the parents came by, as well.

Win could stop by, if he chose. Something he couldn’t do at the ranch. But would he? How could he? she reminded herself. He didn’t know she was working at the farm. Just another fantasy, one she wasn’t sure she wanted to become reality, anyway.

“Do you mind having so much unannounced company?” Jenny asked Annie as they planted fingerling potatoes and artisan lettuce, mainstays of the farm.

“Not at all. My family wasn’t close like yours. For me it’s a dream come true. When I first took over the farm, people used to stop by unannounced and I didn’t like it, but that’s because they wanted to buy my property.”

“I remember you telling me that. Shep Morgan, right?” Win’s father was one of the orneriest men around. Even Jenny would have found him scary to deal with on her own. “And I think you said Win stopped by sometimes, too?” she asked hopefully.

“And your father and Vaughn,” Annie said, shaking back her blond hair. Even though it would only be about seventy degrees at the day’s peak, it was easy to work up a sweat working outdoors, especially inside the high tunnel greenhouses, which were much warmer, as sheltered as they were. “But that was before Mitch and I got married. The Morgans know there’s no way I’d sell this land now. No reason to stop by.”

“How long could you have held on if Mitch hadn’t come along?”

“Mitch has made my life a whole lot easier, with much less stress and pressure, but I was starting to succeed on my own.”

“He seems to let you run the show here just fine.”

“Does he?” Annie smiled. “He has impact on my decisions, because he often brings a different perspective to a situation, and I find that helpful. He doesn’t have the same emotional connection to this land that I do, which keeps him clearheaded. But he also amazes me, how he can work all day at the ranch and still help me out here. Austin has learned so much from him, too.”

Jenny nudged Annie aside and took over planting the potatoes, which required more bending. “Maybe you could pour us some iced tea and we’ll take a little break.”

“Okay. Can we talk about Win Morgan?” Annie asked over her shoulder as she walked away.

Jenny jolted a little in surprise, then thought it over. She would love to confide in someone, but should it be Annie?

A few minutes later they were sitting on the porch, hands washed clean of soil, sipping iced tea and eating oatmeal-raisin cookies.

“Why do you want to talk about Win?” Jenny asked.

“Mitch tells me that you used Win’s phone to call your dad.”

“Only because he stopped to see if I needed help, and I haven’t switched to a satellite phone yet.”

“He was being a Good Samaritan?”

“That’s right. Why?”

“Because almost every time I’ve seen him, he’s asked about you. And at Christmas, you avoided him.”

“I’ve always found Win to be the strong, silent type.” Which was not really an answer.

“People tend to romanticize the strong, silent types, but actually they usually have nothing to say,” Annie commented. “Win has things to say.”

“It sounds as if you like him.”

“I do. I think he’s a victim of his father’s bad press. But I think you like him, too.”

Jenny stared into space for a few seconds. “I do.”

“But?”

“We had a summer fling that our parents weren’t aware of four years ago.” She bit into her cookie before she said any more.

“Really? And how was it?”

Jenny smiled. “Everything a girl’s first love affair should be.”

“Made more exciting because your families would have hit their respective roofs.”

“Probably. Until yesterday I hadn’t seen him in all that time.”

“How was it?”

“Look, Annie, I don’t want to put you on the spot by telling you things I don’t want you to share with Mitch, and I don’t want my brother to know.”

“I’d keep your confidences. I have to tell you that Karyn has been curious, too, ever since you avoided Win here at Christmas. She plied me with questions I had no answers for.”

Jenny felt as close to her two sisters-in-law, whom she barely knew, as her sister, Haley. “I think we should keep it that way. Nothing can happen between Win and me, you know?”

“Why not?”

“Our families—”

Annie interrupted. “I don’t know about Win’s family, but yours love you, and they would accept him if he’s your choice.”

“Accept isn’t the same as love and welcome.”

“In time it could be that. You’ve got 150 years of bad blood to get past first.”

“Well, that’s a snap, don’t you think?”

“If you love each other, the fact your last name is Ryder and his is Morgan wouldn’t matter.”

“Who said anything about love? Lust, sure, but—”

A truck pulled into the driveway, one she would’ve recognized anywhere.

“Looks like Win has come calling,” Annie said. “Are you going to hide?”

She couldn’t let her sister-in-law think she was a coward. Nor did she want Win to think he had that kind of power over her. Plus she wanted to see him, so why would she hide?

“Howdy,” Win said as he ambled to the porch, looking like the rancher he was, hat to boots.

“Hi, Win,” Annie said. “Would you join us for iced tea and cookies?”

Win gave Jenny a quick glance. “I’d be obliged, thanks.”

“I’ll get another glass. Have a seat. But not in my rocking chair.” The screen door slammed behind her.

Win didn’t hesitate. He sat on the two-person glider next to Jenny.

“You doin’ okay?” he asked.

Tiny tornados whipped through her body. “Yes, thank you.”

“I take it your car is in the shop since it’s not here in the yard.”

“Tex towed it to town. The damage was slight.”

“Your folks ask why you used my phone?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll bet your dad wasn’t happy I abandoned you.”

“I told him that was my doing, that I made you leave.”

He eyed her thoughtfully. “I shouldn’t have left, no matter what you said. Thought about it last night a lot. I should’ve stayed.”

Jenny squeezed her hands together until they hurt. She wanted to grab him by the shirt and pull him right to her and kiss him until he passed out from the pure pleasure of it.

“I wouldn’t mind kissing you, either,” he said, leaning close and whispering.

Annie came out the door, making plenty of noise first. “Here you go,” she said, passing Win a glass then holding the plate of cookies toward him.

“Thanks, Annie. You make ’em?”

“I did. I have to hide treats or Adam and Brody will eat them in one day. They haven’t figured out where I stash stuff. What brings you here?”

“Food, as usual.”

His arm was touching Jenny’s. She could even feel the definition of his muscles as he moved his arm up and down with each bite of cookie. He wasn’t even trying to keep his distance.

“What do you need?”

“My sister is looking to have a standing order with you, one I could pick up weekly.”

“We could probably manage that, Win, although most of my product is going to restaurants and markets now. I’m increasing volume this season, however. Do you know what she wants?”

“Not really.”

Annie looked from Win to Jenny and back again and smiled. “Maybe Rose should give me a call, like she did before?”

“I’ll tell her.”

Annie yawned and stretched. “I need to lie down for a little bit, if you don’t mind, Jenny?”

“Of course not. What should I work on next?”

“If you could turn the dirt in the third greenhouse boxes, that’ll put us ahead of schedule. Nice to see you, Win.”

Win rushed to open the door for her. Jenny took advantage of that to escape from the glider. She headed down the steps and toward the greenhouse.

“Guess I’ll see you around,” Win said.

What? He wasn’t going to follow her? Steal a kiss or two or three?

She marched up to him. “Did you know I was here?”

“Nope.” He grinned.

Her heart skipped a beat or four.

“Did you think about me last night?” he asked.

“Not for a minute.”

“Liar.”

“Egotist.”

He laughed, then put two fingers against the pulse on her neck, which she knew was pounding hard. “You’ve filled out, Jenny Ryder.”

She glanced down at her body. “I put on the freshman fifteen that first year, but I lost that. I think I weigh the same now.”

“It’s distributed a little differently. You’ve got muscles, for one thing.”

“I worked at a farm lab all four years. It involved a lot of physical labor.”

He leaned closer. “Did you think about me last night?” he asked again.

“More than I should have.”

“Ah. The truth. Thank you.” He pressed a soft, sexy kiss against her lips then backed away. “See you.”

“Wait. Win.”

“What?”

“You wanted to tell me something. Before.”

“Another time,” he said, as he had yesterday. He touched the brim of his hat.

She stood and stared until he drove off, her heart still thundering, her body heavy with need.

She didn’t want to have another secret affair with him, but there was only so long she could resist him, and it was approaching fast.

Chapter Three

Win looked forward to Mondays and Fridays. He picked up Rose’s produce order from Annie—and Jenny—on Fridays and went to town on Mondays for the farmers’ market. He could’ve combined the two events and had Annie bring the produce to the farmers’ market, but he didn’t ask and she didn’t offer, as if she knew what he wanted.

Maybe she did. Maybe Jenny had confided in her, although it seemed unlikely.

Win liked the farmers’ market, even though he couldn’t get there until about six o’clock, an hour before it closed. He always bought a grilled sausage sandwich and a beer, then sat where he could listen to the live music, groups that changed weekly. He knew most of the families. A lot of the kids he’d grown up with were married now, having babies and working their family farms and ranches—or they’d left and never come back, like his two older brothers. His kid sister hadn’t gone to college like the rest of the siblings. She’d graduated from high school the year their mother died, and had stayed on to do all the cooking and cleaning. She claimed she was okay with it, but Win couldn’t see how. It was a stifling position.

Now and then Win thought about picking up and leaving, finding work somewhere else, where he might be appreciated. But his ties to Morgan Ranch were hard to break, even the hope that something might change. What was that saying? Hope springs eternal? That was his motto these days.

Farmers’ market in Red Valley City was a casual event, with only about ten booths this early in the season, growing to fifteen or so at its peak. It was set up in a good location, with lots of traffic and easy parking. Aside from produce, vendors sold beef jerky, eggs and honey products. Annie’s booth overflowed with table flowers, which were big sellers. Win could see all the booths from where he sat eating dinner and enjoying the twang of a country trio’s rich harmonies.

This was Annie’s second season at the market and Jenny’s first. They worked well as a team. A few women patted Annie’s belly and lots of people welcomed Jenny home with hugs. She was beloved in the Red Valley.

Win knew the moment Jenny became aware of him. Every so often, she stared beyond the people milling at the booths, as if looking for something—or someone. Then suddenly she zeroed in, holding his gaze for a few seconds before helping her customer choose a bouquet from a huge bucket. The changes in her were subtle after that—her posture a little straighter, her smile a little brighter, her cheeks a little rosier. He swore he could even see her breath quicken.

Win stayed put, watching, satisfyingly pleased at her reaction. He finished his food, talked with a lot of people who stopped to say hello, but kept his gaze on Jenny. At seven o’clock, the country trio announced their last song. Win wished he could ask Jenny to dance. They’d never danced together.

As soon as the song ended, he moseyed over to the booth and offered to help take it down.

“Mitch will be here any second, but thanks,” Annie said. “I had the Kileys save some sausage sandwiches. I’m going to go get them.”

“Evenin’, Jen,” he said as Annie walked toward the food truck.

“Win.” She was gathering the empty five-gallon containers that had held the bouquets of flowers, then was pouring all the water into one bucket. They’d sold everything they’d brought.

“Want me to dump that?” he asked.

“Sure. Thanks.”

She had tipped the three tables on their sides and was folding the legs when he got back, and they stacked them then started on the canopy, even though Mitch had arrived, joining Annie.

“Son.”

Win froze for a second when he heard his father’s voice. “Hey, Dad. You remember Jenny Ryder?”

“’Course.”

“Hi, Mr. Morgan,” she said.

“Could I speak to you?” Shep Morgan asked his son.

“Kinda busy right now.”

“I can wait.” He wandered away, so he wouldn’t have to make small talk, Win figured.

Mitch backed the truck up, bringing it close. For the next few minutes Mitch, Win and Jenny loaded the supplies, not letting Annie lift anything. Knowing his father watched, Win didn’t make eye contact with Jenny for longer than a second at a time.

He and Mitch shook hands, then they drove off.

His good mood shattered, Win walked to where his father stood, leaning against a tree trunk in the now empty park.

“Consortin’ with the enemy, son?”

“In case you didn’t notice, Annie Ryder’s seven months pregnant. She shouldn’t be hefting stuff around.”

“You takin’ a liking to that gal?”

“I’ve come to respect Annie a lot, yes.”

“I meant the Ryder girl.”

“The Ryders may be your enemy, but they’re not mine. If you want to continue this line of interrogation, we can do it at home, Dad.” He turned his back on his father, not wanting anyone to observe them arguing in public. “Tomorrow.”

His father didn’t stop him, but Win figured he was pretty mad at him for walking away. Win was so accustomed to the perpetually angry man that it had little impact on him anymore. His father had never even given him a job title. Win couldn’t be called the foreman, because it would mean taking the job from the man who’d held that position for thirty years. The term herdsman was almost interchangeable with foreman, and Win could be called that, which would go a long way toward making him feel as if he had a real place at Morgan Ranch.

Shep wasn’t inclined to do that, either.

Life had been hard enough while Win had been growing up, but since his mother died, he and his father only butted heads, rarely agreeing on anything, especially when it came to updating their ranching practices to more modern ways. Win would like to go organic and humane like the Ryders, but it would mean a complete change in how they did business, and change wasn’t good for Shep Morgan.

Win wasn’t ready to go home. It was still light out, maybe an hour until sunset, so he headed to the grove of trees by the river, his and Jen’s secret place. He parked at the end of the dirt road, as close to the trees as he could, then he hiked to the river and sat on a boulder, remembering.

They’d been so young that summer. When he’d left for college she was fourteen, so there hadn’t been anything between them. He’d barely been aware of her, just catching glimpses of her at town events, but he hadn’t looked twice.

It was different when he’d finally come home for good. He’d spotted her the first day, having lunch at the diner with two girlfriends. Her laugh had gotten to him first as he sat at the counter eating a hamburger and fries. He could easily hear their conversation, which hopped from one subject to the next—boys and movie stars and an upcoming rodeo. Her friends were trying to talk her into competing for rodeo queen, but she wasn’t having it. He’d thought she could’ve won, hands down.

At one point she’d made eye contact, her smile wavering for a few seconds before she flashed him a sassy grin, tossing her long, auburn hair over her shoulders. As much as she appealed, he wasn’t about to get caught up in her spell, not even for just a flirtatious second. He’d concentrated on his burger again.

Then her girlfriends left and she strolled up to the counter and leaned an elbow near him.

“I’m so sorry about your mom, Win,” she said, as if they’d been old friends forever, her blue gaze meeting his directly.

Even though his mother had died on Christmas, it still felt new and raw. He’d kept a lid on his emotions for months, yet one sentence of sympathy from this teenager had his throat closing. “Thanks.”

She didn’t leave, didn’t even move. Finally she said, “Hey, you want to go to the river and talk?”

He had no interest in talking, but... “About what?”

She shrugged. “Whatever.”

“I won’t be your rebellion, little girl.”

She smiled, slow and sure, as if she knew how attracted he was, and that she could get him to turn somersaults just by asking. “I’m eighteen,” she said, “and all grown up, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Oh, he’d noticed all right. Most girls looked good in their Wranglers, but she took it up a notch. Her rear was round and high, her legs long. And the white T-shirt she wore clung to grown-up breasts.

She laid a hand on his arm. “I apologize, Win. I’m not trying to tease you. Actually, I was thinking you looked like you needed someone to talk to, a friendly ear. I figure things are pretty hard at your place now without your mom.”

“Why would I confide in you?”

“I’m probably the safest person around, don’t you think? I couldn’t tell anyone about it, since we can’t be seen together. I promise it’d be just between you and me.”

He thought about it for a few long seconds. “You know where the grove sits by the river, ’bout four miles from town?”

“I do.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay.” She left first.

Win followed a couple minutes later, not really expecting her to show up, thinking she’d only been playing a game with him, but she was there.

They’d talked for hours, about anything and everything. She’d cried for his loss, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. It’d been his undoing. He tried not to shed any tears in front of her, but she forced him to, made him give in, then ultimately gave him something else to think about when she kissed him.

She looked stunned for a minute, then came back for more. He carried her to his truck and did his best to keep the experience tender for her. They met several times a week after that....

Then she got pregnant, and they’d married in secret—

Win shoved himself away from the boulder and the memories. He got into his truck and headed home, then straight for the bunkhouse. He’d told his father they could talk tomorrow.

Tomorrow would come too soon as it was.

* * *

“I was surprised to see Win in the booth with you,” Mitch said as they drove back to The Barn Yard to unload the supplies.

“People are particularly kind to pregnant women,” Annie said. “And we do business regularly, you know. I like him.”

Mitch glanced past his wife to his sister. “He seems to like you, Jen. At least, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

She sniffed. “I have no control over Win Morgan’s eyes.”

Mitch laughed. “What’s that line about a woman protesting too much?”

“No placards being held up here.”

He laid a hand on his wife’s thigh, a small gesture that said so much. Jenny yearned for that kind of connection. She crossed her arms and stared at the passing scenery, feeling achingly alone, especially when Annie moved his hand to her belly and held tight.

“I think we’ve got a soccer player in there,” Mitch said.

Jenny could barely breathe. She’d had a baby inside her once, too, a lifetime ago, it seemed. And then lost it. She’d mourned for a long time. Had Win? Neither of them had said a word about it since she got home, although he might have been about to right after they’d made love in his truck and he’d trailed a finger down her naked body. She’d interrupted him, not wanting to deal with it then. But now? Could they talk about it now?

“Are you okay?” Annie asked as they pulled into the yard at the farm.

“Sure.” Jenny hopped out. Adam and Brody came out of the farmhouse. Between the four of them, they got everything put away in record time.

It was still light out when Mitch dropped off Jenny at the homestead. Her parents had gone to dinner at a friend’s house, but they would probably be home soon. They got up early, so they didn’t keep late hours. She wandered through the house, which held so many good memories. The only big change was some remodeling they’d done a few years back, removing the wall between the kitchen and the dining and living rooms, opening up the space, modernizing the kitchen at the same time.

There were four bedrooms downstairs and four upstairs, including the master bedroom and a guest room. As kids they’d never had to share bedrooms, only bathrooms. It’d been a luxury.

Jenny got into the shower and washed off the day. She felt old. Broken. For years she’d been able to channel her emotions into school and work. Now she was left to face truths without distractions.

It would be so easy to fall into another affair with Win. So easy.

But if she hadn’t learned her lesson the first time, what good was the lesson?

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