“I only have eyes for one woman here.”

“Oh? And who would that be?”

“You.”

A shiver washed over her, despite herself. “Cole, don’t.”

His expression sobered. “There’s unfinished business between us, Cassie. You know there is. I think it’s about time we dealt with it.”

“I can’t think about that now. I can’t think about you,” she said fiercely, scrambling to her feet.

“I’ll still be here when you get back,” he reminded her. “And nothing will have changed.”

Cassie didn’t care. She needed time to figure out why Cole could still get to her.

“You do whatever you want to do,” she told him. “You always have.”

That said, she fled. Thinking about the man couldn’t get her into that much trouble.

Being with him could be disastrous.

Do You Take This Rebel?
Sherryl Woods

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For the Potomac Sunrise gang—Carolyn, Jim and

Diane—for helping me to keep my stories on track and

for sharing their own fabulous writing with me. And a

special thanks to Carolyn, who rose to the challenge

and came up with the title for The Calamity Janes.

SHERRYL WOODS

has written more than seventy-five romances and mysteries in the past twenty years. And because she loves to talk to real people once in a while, she also operates her own bookstore, Potomac Sunrise, in Colonial Beach, VA, where readers from around the country stop by to discuss her favorite topic—books. If you can’t visit Sherryl at her store, then be sure to drop her a note at P.O. Box 490326, Key Biscayne, FL 33149.

Winding River High School

Class of '91

Welcome Home—Ten Years Later

Do You Remember the Way We Were?

Cassie Collins—Ringleader of the Calamity Janes. Elected most likely to land in jail. Best known for painting the town water tower a shocking pink and for making the entire faculty regret choosing teaching as a profession. Class record for detentions.

Karen (Phipps) Hanson—Better known as The Dreamer. Elected most likely to see the world. Member of the 4-H club, the Spanish and French clubs, and first-place winner at the county fair in the greased pig contest.

Gina Petrillo—Tastiest girl in the class. Elected most popular because nobody in town bakes a better double chocolate brownie. Member of the Future Homemakers of America. Winner of three blue ribbons in the pie-baking contest and four in the cake-baking contest at the county fair.

Emma Rogers—That girl can swing…a bat, that is. Elected most likely to be the first female on the New York Yankees. Member of the Debate Club, the Honor Society and president of the senior class.

Lauren Winters—The girl with all the answers, otherwise known as the one you'd most like to be seated next to during an exam. Elected most likely to succeed. Class valedictorian. Member of the Honor Society, County Fair Junior Rodeo Queen and star of the junior and senior class plays.

Contents

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Prologue

The thick white envelope had all the formality of a wedding invitation. Cassie weighed it in her hands, her gaze locked on the postmark—Winding River, Wyoming. Her hometown. A place she sometimes longed for in the dark of night when she could hear her heart instead of her common sense, when hope outdistanced regrets.

Face facts, she told herself sternly. She didn’t belong there anymore. The greatest gift she’d ever given to her mother was her having left town. Her high school friends—the Calamity Janes, they’d called themselves, in honor of their penchant for broken hearts and trouble—were all scattered now. The man she’d once loved with everything in her…Well, who knew where he was? More than likely he was back in Winding River, running the ranch that would be his legacy from his powerful, domineering father. She hadn’t asked, because to do so would be an admission that he still mattered, even after he’d betrayed her, leaving her alone and pregnant.

Still, she couldn’t seem to help the stirring of anticipation that she felt as she ran her fingers over the fancy calligraphy and wondered what was inside. Was one of her best friends getting married? Was it a baby announcement? Whatever it was, it was bound to evoke a lot of old memories.

Finally, reluctantly, she broke the seal and pulled out the thick sheaf of pages inside. Right on top, written in more of that intricate calligraphy, was the explanation: a ten-year high school reunion, scheduled for two months away at the beginning of July. The additional pages described all of the activities planned—a dance, a picnic, a tour of the new addition to the school. There would be lots of time for reminiscing. It would all be capped off by the town’s annual parade and fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Her first thought was of the Calamity Janes. Would they all be there? Would Gina come back from New York, where she was running a fancy Italian restaurant? Would Emma leave Denver and the fast track she was on at her prestigious law firm? And even though she was less than a hundred miles away, would Karen be able to get away from her ranch and its never-ending, back-breaking chores? Then, of course, there was Lauren, the studious one, who’d stunned them all by becoming one of Hollywood’s top box-office stars. Would she come back to a small town in Wyoming for something as ordinary as a class reunion?

Just the possibility of seeing them all was enough to bring a lump to Cassie’s throat and a tear to her eyes. Oh, how she had missed them. They were as different as night and day. Their lives had taken wildly divergent paths, but somehow they had always managed to stay in touch, to stay as close as sisters despite the infrequent contact. They had rejoiced over the four marriages among them, over the births of children, over career triumphs. And they had cried over Lauren’s two divorces and Emma’s one.

Cassie would give anything to see them, but it was out of the question. The timing, the cost…it just wouldn’t work.

“Mom, are you crying?”

Cassie cast a startled look at her son, whose brow was puckered by a frown. “Of course not,” she said, swiping away the telltale dampness on her cheek. “Must have gotten something in my eye.”

Jake peered at her skeptically, but then his attention was caught by the papers she was holding. “What are those?” he asked, trying to get a look.

Cassie held them out of his reach. “Just some stuff from Winding River,” she said.

“From Grandma?” he asked, his eyes lighting up.

Despite her mood, Cassie grinned. Her mother, with whom she’d always been at odds over one thing or another, was her son’s favorite person, mainly because she spoiled him outrageously on her infrequent visits. She also had a habit of tucking money for Jake into her dutiful, weekly letters to Cassie. And for his ninth birthday, a few months back, she had sent him a check. There’d been no mistaking how grownup he’d felt when he’d taken it into the bank to cash it.

“No, it’s not from Grandma,” she said. “It’s from my old school.”

“How come?”

“They’re having a reunion this summer and I’m invited.”

His expression brightened. “Are we gonna go? That would be so awesome. We hardly ever go to see Grandma. I was just a baby last time.”

Not a baby, she thought. He’d been five, but to him it must seem like forever. She’d never had the heart to tell him that the trips were so infrequent because his beloved grandmother liked it that way. Not that she’d ever discouraged Cassie from coming home, but she certainly hadn’t encouraged it. She’d always seemed more comfortable coming to visit them, far away from those judgmental stares of her friends and neighbors. As dearly as Edna Collins loved Jake, his illegitimacy grated on her moral values. At least she placed the blame for that where it belonged—with Cassie. She had never held it against Jake.

“I doubt it, sweetie. I probably won’t be able to get time off from work.”

Jake’s face took on an increasingly familiar mutinous look. “I’ll bet Earlene would let you go if you asked.”

“I can’t ask,” she said flatly. “It’s the middle of the tourist season. The restaurant is always busy in summer. You know that. That’s when I make the best tips. We need the money from every single weekend to make it through the slow winter months.”

She tried never to say much about their precarious financial status because she figured a nine-year-old didn’t need to have that burden weighing on him. But she also wanted Jake to be realistic about what they could and couldn’t afford. A trip to Winding River, no matter how badly either of them might want to make it, wasn’t in the cards. It was the lost wages, not the cost of the drive itself, that kept her from agreeing.

“I could help,” he said. “Earlene will pay me to bus tables when it’s busy.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I don’t think so.”

“But, Mom—”

“I said no, Jake, and that’s the end of it.” To emphasize the point, she tore up the invitation and tossed it in the trash.

Later that night, regretting the impulsive gesture, she went back to get the pieces, but they were gone. Jake had retrieved them, no doubt, though she couldn’t imagine why. Of course, Winding River didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did to her—mistakes, regrets and, if she was being totally honest, a few very precious, though painful, memories.

Her son didn’t understand any of that. He knew only that his grandmother was there, the sole family he had, other than his mom. If Cassie had had any idea just how badly he missed Edna or just how far he would go for the chance to see her again, she would have burned that invitation without ever having opened it.

By the time she found out, Jake was in more trouble than she’d ever imagined getting into, and her life was about to take one of those calamitous turns she and her friends were famous for.

Chapter One

Nine-year-old Jake Collins didn’t exactly look like a big-time criminal. In fact, Cassie thought her son looked an awful lot like a scared little boy as he sat across the desk from the sheriff, sneaker-clad feet swinging a good six inches off the floor, his glasses sliding down his freckled nose. When he pushed them up, she could see the tears in his blue eyes magnified by the thick lenses. It was hard to feel sorry for him, though, when he was the reason for the twisting knot in her stomach and for the uncharacteristically stern look on the sheriff’s face.

“What you’ve done is very serious,” Sheriff Joshua Cartwright said. “You understand that, don’t you?”

Jake’s head bobbed. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.

“It’s stealing,” the sheriff added.

Jake’s chin rose indignantly. “I didn’t steal nothing from those people.”

“You took their money and you didn’t send them the toys you promised,” Joshua said. “You made a deal and you didn’t keep your end of it. That’s the same as stealing.”

Cassie knew that the only reason the sheriff wasn’t being even harder on Jake was because of her boss. Earlene ran the diner where Cassie worked, and Joshua had been courting the woman for the past six months, ever since Earlene had worked up the courage to toss out her drunken, sleazebag husband. The sheriff spent a lot of time at the diner and knew that Earlene was as protective as a mother hen where Cassie and Jake were concerned.

In fact, even now Earlene was hovering outside waiting to learn what had possessed Joshua to haul her favorite little boy down to his office. If she didn’t like the answer, Cassie had no doubt there would be hell for the sheriff to pay.

“How bad is it?” Cassie asked, dreading the answer. She didn’t have much in the way of savings at this time of year with the summer tourist season just starting. The total in her bank account was a few hundred dollars at most. That paltry sum was all that stood between them and financial disaster.

“Two thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars, plus some change,” the sheriff said, reading the total from a report in front of him.

Cassie gasped at the amount. “There has to be some mistake. Who in heaven’s name would send that much money to a boy they don’t even know?” she demanded.

“Not just one person. Dozens of them. They all bid on auctions that Jake put up on the Internet. When the time came to send them the items, he didn’t.”

Cassie was flabbergasted. The Internet was something she had absolutely no experience with. How on earth could her son know enough to use it to con people?

“I started getting calls last week from people claiming that a person in town was running a scam,” the sheriff continued. He shook his head. “When the first person gave me the name, I have to tell you, I almost fell off my chair. Just like you, I thought it had to be some mistake. When the calls kept coming, I couldn’t ignore it. I figured there had to be some truth to it. I checked down at the post office, and Louella confirmed that Jake had been cashing a lot of money orders. It didn’t occur to her to question why a kid his age was getting so much mail, all of it with money orders.”

Ignoring the dull ache in her chest, Cassie faced her son. “Then it’s true? You did do this?”

Defiance flashed briefly in his eyes, but then he lowered his head and whispered, “Yes, ma’am.”

Cassie stared at him. Jake was a smart kid. She knew that. She also understood that his troublemaking behavior was a bid for attention, just as hers had been years ago. But this took the occasional brawl at school or shoplifting a pack of gum to a whole new level. His behavior had gotten worse since she had refused to consider going to Winding River so he could spend some time with his grandmother.

“How did you even get access to the Internet?” she asked him. “We don’t have a computer.”

“The school does,” he said defensively. “I get extra credit for using it.”

“Somehow I doubt they’d give a lot of credit for running cons on some auction site,” the sheriff said dryly. He glanced at Cassie. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing to keep a kid from putting something up for sale. Most sites rely on feedback from customers to keep the sellers honest. As I understand it, most of Jake’s auctions ran back-to-back within a day or two of each other, so by the time there was negative feedback, it was too late. He had the money. The auction site manager called this morning, following up on the complaints they had received, and looking for their cut, as well.”

“What kind of toys were you promising these people, Jake?” Cassie asked, still struggling to grasp the idea that strangers had actually sent her son over two thousand dollars. That was more than she earned in tips in several months.

“Just some stuff,” Jake mumbled.

“Baseball cards, Pokémon cards, rare Beanie Babies,” the sheriff said, reading from that same report. “Looks like he’d been watching the site. He knew exactly what items to list for sale, which ones would bring top dollar from kids and collectors.”

“And where is this money?” Cassie asked, imagining it squandered on who knew what.

“I’ve been saving it,” Jake explained, his studious little face suddenly intense. “For something real important.”

“Saving it?” she repeated, thinking of the little metal box that contained his most treasured possessions and those dollars that his grandmother sent. Had he been socking away that much cash in there? All of his friends knew about that box. Any one of them could steal the contents.

“Where?” she asked, praying he’d put it someplace more secure.

“In my box,” he said, confirming her worst fears.

“Oh, Jake.”

“It’s safe,” he insisted. “I hid it where nobody would ever find it.”

There was a dull throbbing behind Cassie’s eyes. She resisted the temptation to rub her temples, resisted even harder the desire to cry.

“But why would you do something like this?” she asked, still at a loss. “You had to know it was wrong. I just don’t understand. Why did you need so much money? Were you hoping to buy your own computer?”

He shook his head. “I did it for you, Mom.”

“Me?” she said, aghast. “Why?”

“So we could go back home for your reunion and maybe stay there for a really long time. I know you want to, even though you said you didn’t.” He regarded her with another touch of defiance. “Besides, I miss Grandma.”

“Oh, baby, I know you do,” Cassie said with a sigh. “So do I, but this…this was wrong. The sheriff is right. It was stealing.”

“It’s not like I took a whole lot from anybody,” he insisted stubbornly. “They just paid for some dumb old cards and toys. They probably would have lost ’em, anyway.”

“That’s not the point,” she said impatiently. “They paid you for them. You have to send every penny of the money back, unless you have the toys to make things right.”

She figured that was highly unlikely, since Jake spent his allowance on books, not toys. She met the sheriff’s gaze. “You have a list of all the people involved?”

“Right here. As far as I know, it’s complete.”

“If Jake sends the money back and writes a note of apology to each one, will that take care of everything?”

“I imagine most of the people will be willing to drop any charges once they get their money back and hear the whole story,” he said. “I think a lot of them felt pretty foolish when they realized they were dealing with a third-grader.”

“Yeah, well, Jake is obviously nine going on thirty,” Cassie said. At this rate he’d be running real estate scams by ten and stock market cons by his teens.

This was not the first time she had faced the fact that she was in way over her head when it came to raising her son. Every single mom struggled. In all likelihood, every single mom had doubts about her ability to teach right and wrong. Cassie had accepted that it wouldn’t be easy when she’d made the decision to raise Jake on her own with no family at all nearby to help out.

And it should have been okay. They might never be rich, but Jake was loved. She had a steady job. Their basic needs were met. There were plenty of positive influences in his life.

Maybe if Jake had been an average little kid, everything would have been just fine, but he had his father’s brilliance and her penchant for mischief. It was clearly a dangerous combination.

“If you’ll give me that list of names, Jake will write the notes tonight. We’ll be back in the morning with those and the money,” she said grimly.

“But, Mom,” Jake began. One look at Cassie’s face and the protest died on his lips. His expression turned sullen.

“Jake, could you wait outside with Earlene for just a minute?” the sheriff said. “I’d like to speak to your mother.”

Jake slid out of the chair and, with one last backward glance, left the room. When he’d gone, Joshua faced Cassie, eyes twinkling.

“That boy of yours is a handful,” he said.

“No kidding.”

“You ever think about getting together with his daddy? Seems to me like he could use a man’s influence.”

“Not a chance,” Cassie said fiercely.

Cole Davis might be the smartest, sexiest man she’d ever met. He might be the son of Winding River’s biggest rancher. But she wouldn’t marry him if he were the last chance she had to escape the fires of hell. He’d sweet-talked her into his bed when she was eighteen and he was twenty, but once that mission had been accomplished, she hadn’t set eyes on him again. He’d gone back to college without so much as a goodbye.

When she’d discovered she was pregnant, she was too proud to try to track Cole down and plead for help. She’d left town, her reputation in tatters, determined to build a decent life for herself and her baby someplace where people weren’t always expecting the worst of her.

Not that she hadn’t given them cause to think poorly of her. She’d been rebellious from the moment she’d discovered that breaking the rules was a whole lot more fun than following them. She’d given her mother fits from the time she’d been a two-year-old whose favorite word was no, right on through her teens when she hadn’t said no nearly enough.

If there was trouble in town, Cassie was the first person everyone looked to as ringleader. Her pregnancy hadn’t surprised a single soul. Rather than endure the knowing looks and clucking remarks, rather than ask her mother to do the same, she’d simply fled, stopping in the first town where she’d spotted a Help Wanted sign in a diner window.

In the years since, she had made only rare trips back to visit her mother, and she’d never once asked about Cole or his family. If her mother suspected who Jake’s father was, she’d never admitted it. The topic was off-limits to this day. Jake was Cassie’s alone. Most of the time she was justifiably proud of the job she’d done raising him. She resented Joshua’s implication that she wasn’t up to the task on her own.

“Are you saying Jake wouldn’t have done this if his father had been around?” she asked, an edge to her voice. “What could he have done that I haven’t? I’ve taught Jake that it’s wrong to steal. The message has been reinforced in Sunday school. And, believe me, he will be punished for this. He may well be grounded till he’s twenty-one.”

Joshua held up his hand. “I wasn’t criticizing you. Kids get into trouble even with the best parents around, but with boys especially, they need a solid male role model.”

Cassie didn’t especially want her son following in Cole Davis’s footsteps. There had to be better role models around. One was sitting right in front of her.

“He has you, Joshua,” she pointed out. “Since you’ve been coming around the diner, he’s spent a lot of time with you. He looks up to you. If anyone represents authority and law and order, you do. Did that help?”

“Point taken.” He regarded her with concern. “Are you going to take that trip Jake was talking about? Obviously, it’s something that he really cares about.”

“I don’t see how we can.”

“If it’s a matter of money, the way the boy said, it could be worked out,” he said. “Earlene and I—”

“I’m not taking money from you,” she said fiercely. “Or from Earlene. She’s done enough for me.”

“I think you should consider it,” Joshua said slowly. His expression turned uneasy. “Look, Earlene would have my hide if she knew I was suggesting this, but I think you might want to give some thought to staying in Winding River when you do go back there.” He said it as if their going was a done deal despite her expressed reluctance.

Cassie stared at him in shock. “Are you throwing us out of town?”

Joshua chuckled. “Nothing that dramatic. I was just thinking that it might be good for Jake to have more family around, more people to look out for him, lend a little extra stability to his life. It would be a help to you and maybe keep him out of mischief. This latest escapade can’t be dismissed as easily as some of the others. Sometimes even kids need a fresh start. I’ve heard you tell Earlene yourself that he gives his teachers fits at school. Maybe a whole new environment where no one’s expecting the worst would help him settle down. Better to get him in hand now than when he hits his teens and the trouble can get a whole lot more serious.”

“I know,” Cassie said, defeated. Nobody knew better than she did about fresh starts and living down past mistakes. Even so, it wasn’t as easy as Joshua made it sound. She didn’t bother to explain that her mother was all the family they’d have in Winding River and that friends there were few and far between. She had a stronger support system right here. Unfortunately, Joshua clearly didn’t want to hear that.

“I’ll think about it,” she said eventually. “I promise.”

But going home for a few days for a class reunion was one thing. Going back to live in the same town where Cole Davis and his father ruled was quite another.

Unfortunately, though, it sounded as if circumstances—and the well-intentioned sheriff—might not be giving her much choice.

“Blast it all, boy, I ain’t getting any younger,” Frank Davis grumbled over the eggs, ham and grits that were likely to do him in. “Who’s going to run this ranch when I die?”

Cole put down his fork and sighed. He and his father had had this same discussion at least a thousand times in the past eight years.

“I thought that was why I was here,” Cole said. “So you could go to your eternal rest knowing that the ranch was still in Davis hands.”

His father waved off the comment. “Your heart’s not in this place. I might as well admit it. It could fall down around us for all the attention you pay it. You spend half the night locked away in that office of yours with all that fancy computer equipment. For the life of me I can’t figure what’s so all-fired fascinating about staring at a screen with a bunch of gobbledy-gook on it.”

“Last year that gobbledy-gook earned three times as much as this ranch,” Cole pointed out, knowing even as he spoke that his father wouldn’t be impressed. If it didn’t have to do with cattle or land, Frank Davis didn’t trust it. Cole had given up expecting his father to be proud of his accomplishments in the high-tech world. He got higher praise when he negotiated top dollar for their cattle at market.

“All I have to say is, if I’d known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have been so quick to break up you and that Collins girl. Maybe you’d have been settled down by now. Maybe you would have a little respect for this ranch your great-grandfather started.”

Cole was not about to head off down that particular path. Any discussion of Cassie was doomed. He remembered all too clearly what had happened the minute his father had learned that the two of them were getting close. He had packed up Cole’s things and shipped him off to school weeks before the start of his junior year.

To his everlasting regret, there hadn’t been a thing Cole could do about it. At that point he’d wanted his college diploma too much to risk his father’s wrath. That diploma had been his ticket away from ranching. He’d sent a note to Cassie explaining and begging for her understanding. Her reply had been curt. She’d told him it didn’t matter, that he could do whatever suited him. She intended to get on with her life.

Ironically, the ink had barely been dry on his diploma when his father had suffered a heart attack and pleaded with him to return home. Now here he was, spending his days running the ranch he hated and his nights working on the computer programming he loved. It wasn’t as awful as it could have been. The reality was he could design his computer programs anywhere, even in a town where he had to dodge old memories at every turn.

By the time he’d come back to Winding River, Cassie Collins had been gone, and no one was saying where. Up until then her mother had been kind to him, standing in for the mother he’d lost at an early age. But when he’d gone to see her on his return, Edna Collins had slammed the door in his face. He hadn’t understood why, but he hadn’t forced the issue.

Over the years he’d heard Cassie’s name mentioned, usually in connection with some wild, reckless stunt that had been exaggerated by time. He’d debated questioning her best friends when they occasionally passed through town, but he’d told himself that if he’d meant anything at all to Cassie, she would have responded differently to his note. Maybe she’d just viewed that summer as a wild fling. Maybe he was the only one who’d seen it as something more. Either way, it was probably for the best to leave things as they were. Wherever she was, she was no doubt happily married by now.

When he was doing some of his rare soul-searching, Cole could admit that the romance had been ill fated from the beginning. He and Cassie were as different as two people could be. Until they’d met, he’d been the classic nerd, both studious and shy. Only an innate athletic ability and the Davis name had made him popular.

Cassie, with her warmth and exuberance and try-anything mentality, had brought out an unexpected wild streak in him. He would have done anything to earn one of her devastating smiles. The summer they had spent together had been the best time of his life. Just the memory of it was enough to stir more lust than any flesh-and-blood woman had for quite some time.

He brought himself up short. Those days were long past, and it was definitely best not to go back there.

“Well?” his father demanded. “Don’t you have anything to say about that?”

“Leave it alone, Pop. The quickest way to get rid of me is to start bringing up old news.”

“I hear she’s coming back to town for this big reunion the school has planned,” his father said, his expression sly. “Is that news current enough for you?”

Cole didn’t like the way his pulse reacted to the announcement. It ricocheted as if he’d just been told that his company had outearned Microsoft.

“That has nothing to do with me,” he insisted.

“She’s not married.”

Cole ignored that, though he was forced to concede that his heart started beating double time at the news.

“Has a son she’s raising on her own,” his father added.

“You know, I think you missed your calling,” Cole said. “You should have started a newspaper. You seem to know all the gossip in town.”

“You saying you’re not interested?”

Cole met his father’s gaze without flinching. “That’s what I’m telling you.”

Frank gave a little nod. “Okay, then. How about a game of poker tonight? I could call a few men. Have ’em out here in an hour.”

Though he was relieved that his father had suddenly switched gears, Cole’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Why would you want to do that?”

A grin spread across Frank Davis’s face. “’Cause a man who can lie with a straight face the way you just did is wasting it if he’s not playing a high-stakes game of cards.”

Chapter Two

As she and Jake drove through the Snowy Range toward Winding River two months later, Joshua Cartwright’s words played over and over in Cassie’s head like the refrain from some country music tune. Going home, even temporarily, wasn’t nearly as simple as he’d made it sound, which was why she’d flatly refused to pack up everything she owned and bring it with her. Once she decided whether to stay—if she decided to stay—she would go back for the rest of her belongings.

Meantime, with every familiar landmark she passed, her pulse escalated and her palms began to sweat. Time hadn’t dulled any of her trepidation.

Jake, however, had no such qualms. He was literally bouncing on the seat in his enthusiasm, taking in everything, commenting on most of it until she wanted to scream at him to be quiet. Nerves, she told herself. It was just nerves. Jake wasn’t doing anything wrong. In fact, it was good that he was so excited. There had been far too few adventures in his young life. And it had been four years, she reminded herself. He’d been only five on their last brief visit. This all seemed as new and exciting to him as it was terrifying to her.

“How far now?” he asked for the hundredth time.

Cassie managed a thin smile. “About ten miles less than the last time you asked. We’ll be there by lunchtime.”

“And all these ranches, the great big ones, belong to people you know?”

“Most of them,” she conceded.

She dreaded the moment when the wrought-iron gate for the Double D came into sight. Frank Davis had named it that the day his son was born, anticipating the time when the two of them would run it together. He’d never envisioned his son bringing home the daughter of a woman who took in mending. If anything, he’d wanted Cole to marry someone whose neighboring land could be added to the holdings of the Double D.

Unfortunately for him, Cole had never looked twice at their neighbors’ daughters. She wondered, though, if that had changed, if Frank had gotten his way.

As the road twisted and turned, the snow-capped mountains gave way to rolling foothills. Black Angus cattle dotted the landscape. Bubbling streams and a broader, winding river cut through the land, the banks lined by thick stands of leafy cottonwoods.

Eventually the road dipped, went over a narrow span of bridge, and there it was, the town in which she’d grown up, complete with the water tower she’d once climbed and repainted shocking pink. It was a pristine white now, with flowing blue script proudly spelling out Winding River and, beneath that, in bolder letters: WELCOME.

A sign by the side of the road proudly announced the population at 1,939. If she decided to stay, would it soon be altered to say 1,941? Cassie wondered. Or would the ebb and flow of births and deaths, departures and new arrivals, keep it forever the same?

“Mom, look,” Jake said in an awestruck tone.

“What?”

“Over there,” he said, pointing to something she’d never seen before.

It was an airstrip, not much by big-city standards, but there were half a dozen very fancy private planes parked outside the hangar. Obviously over the past ten years some folks with money had settled in Winding River. Years ago a few of the ranchers, Cole’s father among them, had kept small planes for making rapid inspections of their far-flung land, but nothing like these.

“Awesome,” Jake declared, his eyes as big as saucers.

“Awesome,” Cassie was forced to agree, even as she wondered at the implication.

Her mother hadn’t mentioned anything to suggest that big changes were taking place in town, but then Edna Collins wasn’t the kind to take stock of her surroundings or to comment on them. She stayed mostly to herself, spending her time on the mending she did to make ends meet and on church work. Because she was relieved to no longer be the target of it herself, she didn’t indulge in gossip. Cassie regretted not asking more questions since her last trip home. Even her mother had to have noticed an influx of wealthy newcomers.

“Can we drive through town before we go to Grandma’s?” Jake pleaded. “I’ve forgotten what it was like. Besides, I’m starved. Grandma won’t have anything but peanut butter and jelly.”

“Which she is expecting you to eat,” Cassie reminded him, grateful for the excuse to put off the moment when she would have to start seeing people, facing their curious stares and blunt questions.

“We’ll go into town after lunch,” she promised, grinning at him. “You can have ice cream for dessert.”

The promise was enough to pacify Jake, and it bought her some time…time to ask questions, time to brace herself for the possibility of running into Jake’s father.

Time to get used to the increasingly likely possibility that this was going to be home again.

Cole was mending fences near the highway when the old blue sedan sped past. It said a lot about his state of mind that he even looked up. Usually his concentration was intent on the task at hand, but ever since his father’s sly comment about Cassie’s return, passing cars had caught his interest.

This time there was no mistaking the thick brown hair caught up in a ponytail and pulled through the opening of a baseball cap. Cassie had worn her hair exactly that way on too many occasions, making his fingers itch to free it and watch it tumble to her shoulders in silky waves. His belly tightened and his hand trembled unmistakably, either at the memory or the glimpse of her. Maybe both.

He forced his attention back to the fence, aimed his hammer at the nail with too much force and too little concentration and caught his thumb instead. His muttered expletive carried across the field to his father, who stared at him with that smug expression that had become increasingly familiar lately.

“See something interesting?” his father inquired tartly.

“Not a thing,” Cole insisted, though the image of Cassie with the breeze stealing wisps of hair to tease her cheeks was firmly planted in his head. If a glimpse could tie him up in knots, what would seeing her up close do to him? He didn’t want to find out.

He just needed to make himself scarce for a few days and she’d be gone again, back to wherever she lived, taking that mysterious boy of hers with her. Then his life would return to normal. His days would be uncomplicated. His nights…well, they might be boring from a social perspective, but they would be rewarding financially. He did his best work in the middle of the night when the day’s stresses faded and his mind could wander.

“You going into town this afternoon?” his father asked, his expression neutral.

“Hadn’t planned to.”

“We could use an order of feed.”

“Then pick up the phone and order it,” Cole retorted, refusing to take the less-than-subtle bait.

“Just thought you might have other business to see to.”

“I do,” he agreed, tossing his tools into the back of the pickup. “If you need me, I’ll be at the house.”

His father stared at him with a disgusted expression. “Working on that blasted computer, I suppose.”

“Exactly.”

With any luck he could create a computer game in which the meddling owner of a ranch was murdered by his put-upon son and nobody caught on.

From the moment she drove into the driveway at her mother’s place, Cassie was taken back in time. Nothing had changed. The little white house, not much more than a cottage, really, still had a sagging porch and needed paint. As always, there was a pot of struggling red geraniums in need of water on the steps. A swing hung from a sturdy but rusting chain. The white paint had long since chipped away, leaving the swing a weathered gray.

Inside, the walls were a faded cream, the drapes too dark and heavy, as if her mother was determined to shut out the world that had never been kind to her. A sewing basket, overflowing with colorful threads, sat beside the worn chair where her mother liked to work under a bare hundred-watt bulb.

They left Jake glued to the TV and went down the hall with the luggage. Cassie discovered her room still had posters of her favorite musicians on the walls and a Denver Broncos bedspread on one twin bed. She’d bought that navy-blue and orange spread as a rebellion against the pink paint and ruffled curtains her mother had insisted on. The second bed still had a frilly, flowered spread on it. Cassie suspected its mate was still shoved in the back of the closet, where she’d put it years ago.

“I haven’t changed anything,” her mother said, twisting her hands nervously. “I thought you’d like to know that home was always going to be the way you remembered it.”

Cassie didn’t have the heart to say that some things were best forgotten. Instead she gave her mother a fierce hug. For all of her flaws this woman had done her best to give Cassie a good life. She’d lost her husband in a freak accident at a grain elevator when Cassie was little more than a toddler, but she’d found a way to be a stay-at-home mom and keep food on the table. And despite her private disapproval of her daughter’s behavior and the occasional long-suffering sighs, she hadn’t turned her back on Cassie, not ever.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, finally acknowledging what was long overdue.

Her mother looked startled and faintly pleased, but her face quickly assumed its more familiar neutral mask. “Will you and Jake be okay in here? You won’t mind sharing a room?”

“Of course not. This will be fine. We’re just glad to be here.”

“Are you?” her mother asked, peering at her intently. “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” Cassie agreed, studying her mother’s face and seeing new wrinkles. There was more gray in her hair, too. “Jake and I have missed you.”

That pleased look came and went in a heartbeat. “Will your friends be home for the reunion?” Edna asked, retreating as always to a less emotional topic.

“I haven’t spoken to any of them recently. I hope so. It would be wonderful to see them again.”

Her mother shook her head. “I can’t imagine what Lauren must be like. Do you suppose all that fame has gone to her head? She certainly hasn’t spent a dime of the money she’s making on her folks. That house of theirs is tumbling down around them.”

“Don’t blame Lauren,” Cassie said. “Her parents wouldn’t take anything from her. They said an acting career was too precarious and she needed to save every last cent in case it didn’t last. Lauren hired a carpenter and sent him over, but her parents just sent him away.”

“That father of hers always was a stubborn old coot,” Edna said. “Still, all the attention she gets from TV and the newspapers must have changed her some.”

Cassie chuckled. “Lauren never cared about fame or money. I’m sure she’s as surprised as the rest of us about the turn her life has taken.”

“Well, Hollywood has a way of changing people. That’s all I’m saying,” her mother replied, disapproval written all over her face.

“Not Lauren,” Cassie said with absolute confidence. If any of them had her head on straight, it was Lauren. She was always the one to express caution when a prank threatened to get out of hand, always the one who came up with a thoughtful gesture to make amends when someone’s feelings were hurt.

“I suppose you know her better than I do,” her mother said, though her doubts were still evident. “Are you hungry? I’ve made some sandwiches, and there are cookies. Mildred brought them by this morning. Oatmeal-raisin. Your favorite, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Mildred’s oatmeal-raisin cookies were always the best,” Cassie enthused. And their neighbor had always come up with excuses for bringing over a plateful to share with a little girl whose own mother rarely baked. Those treats had earned Mildred a special place in Cassie’s heart. “I’ll have to stop by later to thank her.”

“She’d like that. She doesn’t get out much these days. Her arthritis makes it difficult for her to get around. Jake can stay with me while you and Mildred visit.”

Cassie’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t you think Mildred would like to see your grandson?”

“There’s nothing for a boy to do over there. He’d be bored,” Edna responded.

She said it in a hurried way that told Cassie she was only making up hasty excuses. “Mom, I can’t keep Jake hidden away in the house while we’re here.”

For an instant her mother looked ashamed. “No, of course not. I never meant to imply that you should.”

“Surely people have gotten over what happened by now.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. It’s just that…”

Cassie met her gaze evenly. She had known they were going to have to face this. Now was as good a time as any. “What?” she asked, prepared for battle.

“He looks so much like his father now.”

That was the last thing Cassie had expected her mother to say, but it was true. Jake did look like Cole, from his sun-streaked hair to his blue eyes, from those freckles across his nose to the shape of his mouth. Even the glasses were a reminder of the ones Cole had worn until high school, when he’d finally been persuaded to trade them for contacts.

Cole had been a self-described skinny, awkward geek until he’d gone away to college. There he’d begun to fill out, his body becoming less awkward and lanky. And after a summer at home working the ranch, his lean body had been all hard muscle by the time they’d started dating in earnest. Cassie imagined the same thing would happen to Jake one day, and that he would be breaking girl’s hearts just like his daddy had.

The shock, of course, was that her mother could see all that. “You know,” Cassie said flatly.

It was her mother’s turn to look startled. “Did you think I didn’t?”

“You never said a word.”

Her mother shrugged. “There was nothing to say. What was done was done. No point in talking about it.”

Cassie sank down on the bed, her thoughts in turmoil. All this time her mother had known the truth. She met Edna’s gaze.

“Is Cole…?” Her voice trailed off.

“He’s here,” her mother said tightly. “Has been ever since college. He came back to help out when Frank had a heart attack. If you ask me, the man talked himself into getting sick just to manipulate that boy, but they seem to be getting on well enough out there.”

Another secret kept, Cassie thought, just as she’d kept Cole’s identity a secret from Jake. Why did it surprise her that her mother could be reticent about something so important? Edna had always kept her own counsel, never saying more than the situation required for politeness. Even now she didn’t elaborate. If Cassie wanted to know more, she was going to have to ask directly.

“Is he married?” she asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“No.”

Relief warred with surprise. Cole must be the county’s prize catch. How had he managed to elude all the single women of Winding River and their ambitious parents, especially with Frank Davis no doubt pressuring him to produce an heir?

It didn’t matter, she told herself sternly. It had nothing to do with her, except that it complicated her situation that Cole was still living right here. How could she possibly keep him from finding out that Jake was his son if he was practically underfoot? And if he did figure it out, what would his reaction be? Would he pretend ignorance or would he want to claim his son? She wasn’t sure which thought terrified her more. Explaining to Jake that his father was here when she’d always been so elusive about his whereabouts wouldn’t be any easier.

“Hey, Mom, can we eat? I’m starved.”

Jake’s voice cut into her thoughts. Struggling with the unexpected taste of fear in her mouth, Cassie stayed silent a minute too long, drawing a puzzled look from her son and an understanding one from her mother.

“I’ll get him his sandwich,” her mother offered. “You spend a few minutes unpacking and getting settled.”

She followed Jake from the room, then turned back. “Give some thought to what I said. The Davises are powerful people, and Cole’s got a streak of his daddy in him—no matter how you once thought otherwise. They take what’s theirs.”

Cassie understood the warning and all its implications. If Emma, now an attorney was coming to the reunion, Cassie would talk to her the second she arrived. Surely Emma would be able to give her some advice on how to protect her rights where Jake was concerned.

And if what her friend had to say wasn’t reassuring, Cassie would take her son and leave. Perhaps she couldn’t go back to work for Earlene, but they could move someplace entirely new. Cheyenne, maybe. Or Laramie. Maybe all the way north to someplace like Jackson Hole. A fresh start in a whole new town wouldn’t be easy, but if it was necessary to keep her son away from Cole, Cassie would do it and never look back.

Just then the phone rang, and a moment later her mother poked her head into the bedroom. “It’s Karen. She heard you were back. Somebody in town must have seen you drive through.”

A smile spread across Cassie’s face as she walked down the hall to the little alcove where the old-fashioned black phone still sat on a rickety mahogany table. The first of the Calamity Janes was checking in.

“Hey, cowgirl, how are you?” she asked Karen. “And how’s that handsome husband of yours?”

“Working too hard. We both are.”

“But you’ll be here for the reunion?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“And the others? Have you heard from any of them?”

“They’re all coming. In fact, that’s why I’m calling. Lunch tomorrow at Stella’s. I’ve told her to put a reserved sign on our favorite table in the back. Can you be there at noon?”

“I can’t wait,” Cassie said truthfully. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you guys.”

“Same here,” Karen said. “And we’re counting on you to think of something outrageous we can do to make this reunion as memorable as all our years in high school.”

“Not me,” Cassie said fervently. “I’m older and wiser now.”

“And a mother,” Karen said quietly. “How’s Jake?”

“He’s the best thing I ever did.”

“And Cole? He’s here, you know.”

“I know.”

“What will you do if you run into him?”

Cassie sighed. “I wish I knew.”

“Maybe it’s time to tell him the truth. I always thought you were making a mistake in not doing that in the beginning. He loved you.”

“He used me.”

“No,” Karen said. “Anyone who ever saw the two of you together knew better than that. How you could miss it is beyond me.”

“He left me without a word,” Cassie reminded her.

“A mistake,” Karen agreed. “But you compounded it.”

“How?”

“By giving up on him. By never asking what happened. By running away. For a girl who had more gumption than anyone I knew, you wimped out when it really counted.”

It was an old argument, but it still put Cassie on the defensive. “I had no choice,” she insisted.

“Oh, sweetie, we all have choices,” she said, sounding suddenly tired.

The hint of exhaustion was so unlike the ex-cheerleader that it startled Cassie. If she’d been a ringleader, Karen had always been her most energetic sidekick, always eager for a lark.

“Karen, are you okay? Is everything all right at the ranch?”

“Just too much work and too little time.”

“But you and Caleb are happy, right?”

“Blissfully, at least when we can stay awake long enough to remember why we got married in the first place.” She sighed. “Don’t listen to me. I love my life. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. And I will tell you every last, boring detail when I see you tomorrow.”

“Love you, pal.”

“You, too. I can’t wait to see you. Bring Jake along. I want to see if he’s as handsome as his daddy.”

“Not tomorrow. Can you imagine a nine-year-old listening to us talk about old times? Besides, it might give him ideas.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he gets into enough mischief without getting any tips from us. And I’ll tell you that story when I see you.”

As she hung up the phone, she suddenly felt as if all her fears and cares had slipped away. The Calamity Janes were getting together tomorrow. Let Cole find out about Jake and do his worst. She had backup on the way. And together, the Calamity Janes were indomitable.

Chapter Three

The door to Cole’s home office burst open, and his father charged in as if he were on a mission. Normally Cole would have protested the intrusion into his private sanctuary, but he was too exhausted. He’d been up all night putting the finishing touches on a program that would revolutionize the way businesses interconnected on the Internet. His gut told him it was going to be the most lucrative bit of technology he’d ever created.

“What?” he asked as his father loomed over him, a frown on his face as he studied the computer screen.

“Is that supposed to make sense?” Frank asked, leaning down for a closer look.

“Not to you, but to another computer it’s magic,” Cole said.

“Guess I’ll have to take your word on that.”

“I’m sure you didn’t barge in here to talk about computers,” Cole said dryly. “What’s on your mind? You’re usually in town at Stella’s at this hour swapping lies with all your buddies.”

“Been there. Now I’m back.”

“I see,” Cole said. “And you’re what? Reporting in with the latest Winding River gossip?”

“Don’t sass me, son. I did happen to pick up a little bit of news I thought might interest you.”

“Unless it’s a way to squeeze eight hours of sleep into the two hours I have before I meet with Don Rollins about that bull you want, I doubt it.”

Undaunted, his father announced, “Cassie and her friends will be at Stella’s at noon today. Stella’s about to bust a gusset at the thought that a famous movie star is going to be dining in her establishment. That’s what she said, ‘dining in my establishment.’ Talk about putting on airs. She’s talking about little Lauren Winters. We’ve known the girl since she was in diapers. I can’t see what all the ruckus is about.”

He shook his head. “Well, never mind about that. The point is that Cassie will be there.”

Cole’s pulse did a little hop, skip and jump, which he resolutely blamed on exhaustion. “So?”

“Just thought you’d want to know.”

“And now I do.” He stared evenly at his father. “Are you waiting for some sort of reaction?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Any hot-blooded son of mine would take a shower, shave, splash on a little of that fancy aftershave women like and haul his butt into town. Now’s your chance, son. Don’t waste it.”

“I’m confused about something. When did you become such a big fan of Cassie’s?”

Guilt flickered in his father’s eyes for an instant before he shrugged. “The point is you cared about her once.”

“A long time ago. You saw to it that it came to nothing.”

“Well, maybe I regret that.”

“Do you really?” Cole asked doubtfully, then shook his head. “Look, forget it. I have an appointment, anyway.”

“I can buy my own blasted bull,” his father retorted. “Seems to me like you ought to have better fish to fry.”

Cole raked a hand through his hair, spared one last glance at the computer screen before shutting it down, then stood up.

“A shower sounds good,” he conceded. “As for the rest, if I were you, I’d be real careful about telling me how capable you are of managing without me. I might get the idea that I could leave this ranch and Winding River and you wouldn’t even miss me.”

His father began to sputter a lot of nonsense about not saying any such thing, but Cole ignored the protest and headed upstairs for a long, hot shower to work out the kinks in his neck and shoulders. Given the state of his thoughts about Cassie Collins, he probably should have let the water run cold.

An hour later, feeling moderately more alive, he left the house and headed into town. Not to satisfy his father, he assured himself. Not even to catch a glimpse of Cassie. Just to grab a decent meal that he didn’t have to cook himself, maybe pick up a few things at the feed and grain store. If Cassie happened to be around, well, that was pure coincidence, the kind of thing that happened in small towns. People bumped into people all the time, exchanged a few words, then went on about their business. It didn’t have to mean a thing.

Yeah, right. He sneezed as he caught a whiff of that aftershave he’d splashed on at the last minute. He yanked a handkerchief out of his pocket and rubbed at his cheeks, but the scent stayed with him, mocking his avowed intentions about this trip into town.

He glanced in the rearview mirror of his truck, assured himself that no one was behind him, then slammed on the brakes right there in the middle of the highway. He could quit lying to himself right now, turn around, go back to the ranch and take that nap he’d been craving before his father had shown up. And if he wanted to salvage a lick of pride, that was exactly what he ought to do.

“Do it,” he muttered. “Be sensible for once in your miserable life.”

But the lure of seeing Cassie again was too much to ignore. It had been a long time since he’d let temptation get the better of him. Surely he could be forgiven a single lapse.

With a sigh he took his foot off the brake and kept going, heading straight for trouble.

“Oh, my word, I never thought I’d see all of you back together again,” Stella Partlow said, hands on her ample hips as her gaze circled the table at the back of her diner. “These class reunions always take me right back. Not a one of you has changed a lick.”

“Not even Lauren?” Cassie asked the woman who had given her her first job as a waitress back in high school. Stella had ignored the gossip and patiently gone about the business of turning Cassie into a responsible employee.

At Cassie’s question, Stella peered intently at Lauren, then shook her head. “Nope. She was always a beauty. Back then she just didn’t make the most of the looks God gave her. I’ve always said a good haircut and a few beauty products can turn the plainest woman into something a man can’t resist.”

“You still selling Avon?” Emma teased.

“Well, of course I am,” Stella retorted. “But right this second I’m pushing hamburgers. How about five with the works, just the way you used to like ’em?”

“And fries,” Karen said with a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

“And chocolate milk shakes,” Cassie added, all but licking her lips. Nobody anywhere made shakes as thick and rich as Stella’s. Not even Earlene had the knack.

“Except for me,” Lauren corrected.

“I imagine you’ll be having a cherry cola, same as always,” Stella said, giving her a wink. “Coming right up. You all try to keep the noise level down back here. I’ve got tourists, and they like a little peace and quiet while they eat.”

“I’ll bet if you point out that they’re in the presence of a gen-u-ine movie star, they won’t care how much racket we make,” Gina told her.

Lauren frowned. “Stop it, you guys. Acting’s a job. It’s not who I am. If anybody ought to know that, you should,” she reminded them.

Cassie thought she detected an edge in her friend’s voice, but Lauren laughed just as hard as the rest of them at the teasing comments that followed. And when they plagued her with questions about her leading men, her responses were as ribald as the discussions they’d had about boys in high school.

When their drinks came, Cassie raised her glass. “A toast. To the Calamity Janes—may all our troubles be behind us.”

Just as the others joined in, Cassie’s glance strayed to the window looking onto Main Street. Cole Davis was standing on the sidewalk staring right back at her, his hands jammed in the pockets of his faded denims, his jaw set and an unreadable expression in his eyes.

“Uh-oh,” Karen murmured. “Looks as if that toast came too late. Trouble is about to come calling.”

All of the women followed Cole’s progress as he strode to the door and entered the diner.

Cassie swallowed hard and prayed that she wouldn’t make a complete fool of herself. It was just a chance meeting with an old flame. Nothing more. Nothing to cause this churning in the pit of her stomach. There was no reason for her heart to slam against her ribs or her pulse to ricochet wildly. Jake was safely at home with her mother, so there was no reason for this little lick of fear that was sliding up the back of her throat.

Get a grip, she told herself mentally as she lifted her gaze to meet his. Those unflinching blue eyes were just as devastating as ever. Her stomach flipped over. Her heart pounded. Her pulse ricocheted. Reason apparently had nothing to do with anything where Cole was concerned, not even after ten long years.

Tension swirled as she felt four gazes pinned on her, waiting to see what she would do. She drew in a deep breath and reminded herself she was a grown-up woman—a mother, in fact. She could handle a simple little exchange with a man, even if he did happen to be the father of the child she’d kept from him…even if she’d spent years nurturing her hatred of him.

“Cole,” she acknowledged with a slight nod.

“Cassie.”

His voice was as low and sexy as she’d remembered, his face more mature, his lips in that same straight line that had always dared her to try to coax a smile from him. His blue eyes were as cold as a wintry sky, though why they were eluded her. He was the one who’d walked out on her. If anyone had a right to be fuming mad, it was she. He ought to be on his knees apologizing, which was about as likely as the sun starting to rise in the west.

When it looked as if the conversation had run into a dead end before getting off the ground, Karen, ever the peacemaker, jumped in.

“How’s Frank?” she asked, as if the tension weren’t already thick enough without bringing up Cole’s father.

“Same as ever. Cantankerous,” he said, bestowing the smile on her that he’d refused Cassie.

“Still grumbling about getting you married off?” Karen teased. Cassie poked an elbow sharply in her ribs.

“The topic does come up now and again,” Cole said, amusement tilting the corners of his mouth.

“Your father always gets his way in the end,” Gina chimed in. “I don’t see why you don’t just get it over with. The way I hear it from my folks, every female in ten counties is after you.”

Cole grinned at her, a full-fledged smile, capable of breaking hearts. “Including you? How about it, Gina? Are you available?”

Cassie scowled as she waited for her friend’s reply.

“If you’d asked a week ago, I’d have turned you down flat,” Gina said. “Now, who knows?”

The flip remark drew stares from the others. Something wasn’t right with Gina, either. Cassie had sensed it from the moment they’d sat down, but there hadn’t been time to get into it. Whatever it was, it had to be serious for her to even joke about a willingness to leave her beloved New York and stay in Wyoming.

Cassie couldn’t give the matter any more thought just then, though, because she glanced up and spotted Jake and his grandmother coming across the street. After their talk yesterday, Cassie had thought there was no way her mother would bring the boy into town, but she’d clearly underestimated Jake’s powers of persuasion. He’d been pestering them for ice cream ever since Cassie had reneged on her promise of it the day before.

A sense of dread filled her as she watched their progress. She did not want Cole meeting her son—not today, not ever—though that was likely to be tricky if she decided she was back home to stay. After the awkwardness of the past few minutes, she was beginning to see that staying in Winding River might not be feasible. She couldn’t live with the kind of panic that had streaked through her when she’d seen Jake unwittingly heading straight toward his daddy.

“You guys, I have to run,” she said, dropping some money on the table and slipping out of the booth. “I have to get home.”

“But our food…” Lauren began, then glanced outside and fell silent.

Cassie circled around behind Cole, giving him a wide berth, hoping that her friends would keep him occupied just long enough for her to catch Jake and her mother and detour them away from the restaurant.

“I’ll call you,” Karen said.

“And we’ll see you tomorrow night,” Lauren added.

“Absolutely. I can’t wait,” she said before dashing off to intercept her son.

She was dismayed when she realized Cole had fallen into step beside her. Just outside the door, he gazed down into her eyes, his expression vaguely troubled.

“Why the sudden rush, Cassie? I didn’t scare you off, did I?”

His tone mocked her, but there was that contradictory flicker of concern in his eyes. She didn’t know what to make of either, and right now she didn’t have time to grapple with it. Disaster was less than half a block away.

“Of course not,” she said a little too sharply. “I just have to get home, that’s all. I promised my mother I wouldn’t be gone long.”

His expression softened. “How’s your mother doing?” he asked with apparent sincerity.

Cassie thought back to the special bond Cole and her mom had shared. It, too, had died when Cole abandoned Cassie. If she were a more generous person, Cassie mused, she might regret that. Cole, who’d lost his own mother at an early age, had basked in the attention Edna had given him.

Cassie glanced outside and saw that her mother was disappearing through a door down the street. Apparently she’d caught a glimpse of Cole and wisely hurried Jake toward the trendy new restaurant and coffee bar Cassie had noticed earlier. Cassie breathed a sigh of relief and turned her gaze back to Cole.

“Fine,” she said. “My mother’s just fine.”

He seemed startled by that. “Really?”

Something in his voice told Cassie he knew something she didn’t. She stared at him intently. “Why did you say that like that?”

He evaded her gaze, his expression suddenly uneasy. “Like what?”

“Stop it, Cole. Don’t play games with me. Is there something going on with my mother that I don’t know about? Is she keeping something from me?”

“You’ll have to ask her that.”

All thoughts of Cole’s near-miss encounter with his son fled as she stared at him and tried to read his deliberately enigmatic expression. He was hiding something. It was plain as day. “Dammit, Cole. Tell me.”

“I just inquired after your mother, Cassie. I was being polite,” he insisted mildly. “Don’t read anything more into it.”

“Nothing with you is ever that simple.”

“You’re a fine one to talk.”

Her temper flared, and her gaze clashed with his. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Never mind. There’s no point in dredging up old news.” He bit back a curse, then shook his head. “I knew coming into town today was a mistake.”

Cassie was startled by the note of betrayal in his voice. “Have you been rewriting history, Cole? You left me. It wasn’t the other way around.”

“Wasn’t it?” he asked with unmistakable resentment.

Her own bitter memories, always just beneath the surface, bubbled up. “How can you ask that? One night you were making love to me, telling me how incredible I was, the next day you were gone.”

“I explained that.”

“Explained it?” she repeated incredulously. “When was that? Until you walked through the door at Stella’s a few minutes ago, I hadn’t seen or heard from you since the night you stole my virginity.”

He winced. “Dammit, Cassie, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t steal anything. We made love. It was a mutual decision. Besides, I left you a note. I know you got it, because you sent me an answer. Do I have to remind you what was in it? You said you wanted nothing more to do with me, that I should go back to college and forget all about you. You said you intended to get on with your life and that I was no longer a part of it.”

Disbelief washed over her. This was ridiculous. Why would he make up such an absurd lie? No doubt to soothe his own conscience.

“I never wrote such a note and you know it.”

“Really?” he said scathingly. “Remind me to show it to you sometime. I’ve kept it all these years as a reminder not to trust a woman’s pretty words of love, especially when she says them in my bed.”

Before she could recover, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Cassie staring after him, wide-eyed with shock. Not one single word he’d said made a lick of sense. She’d never gotten any letter from him. Nor had she sent a reply. But it was clear that Cole believed otherwise.

She felt a blast of cool air as the door to Stella’s opened behind her. “You okay?” Gina asked, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m…” She thought about what had just happened. “Confused, I guess.”

“About what? Your feelings for Cole?”

“No. He said some things. Things that didn’t make any sense.”

Gina’s gaze narrowed. “What things? If he upset you, I’ll get the others and we’ll beat him up for you.”

The comment drew a weak smile. They would do it, too. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Cassie said. “But I love you for offering.”

“Come back inside and eat your burger.”

“I can’t. I need to find Jake and my mother. I want to make sure that Cole didn’t catch a glimpse of them.” She thought then of his odd reaction to her claim that her mother was fine. “I need to talk to Mom about something else, too.”

“But you’ll be at the party tomorrow, right?”

“I’ll be there,” Cassie promised. She met Gina’s gaze evenly. “You and I need to have a long talk.”

“About?”

“Whatever’s going on with you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Gina said, giving her a hug.

“Then what was that remark to Cole all about? You sounded as if you might actually consider hanging around Winding River instead of going back to New York. I can’t believe you would ever walk away from your restaurant.”

“I was joking,” Gina insisted. “Surely you didn’t think I would seriously consider marrying your guy?”

“Cole’s not my guy, and that wasn’t the point. You might have been joking about that, but you sounded serious about the rest, about staying here.”

“So?” Gina said, her expression defiant. “It’s home. Are you telling me that the thought of staying here hasn’t crossed your mind since you’ve been back?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It just is,” Cassie said. She looked up and saw Jake and her mother emerge from the restaurant down the block carrying ice cream cones. They caught sight of her and headed in her direction.

“We’ll finish this conversation tomorrow,” she warned Gina. “I’m not buying a word you’ve said so far.”

“And I’m not buying for a second that you’re over Cole Davis,” Gina retorted. She waved at Cassie’s mother, then retreated inside Stella’s.

Cassie sighed. Gina was right. If she’d learned nothing else in the past half hour, it was that she was a long, long way from being over Cole Davis.

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