In Lori Foster’s sizzling classic, Casey Hudson, Buckhorn County’s favorite son, is out to prove he’s all grown up…

Emma Clark is back in Buckhorn. Once she was the girl with too much makeup and a bad reputation—and she tried everything she could to get Casey Hudson into bed. He was the cutest guy in town, and the only one who seemed to really care about her.

As a hot-blooded teen it was hard for Casey to resist Emma. Now, eight years later, it’s impossible. But Emma is doing her best to shut him out—and Casey needs to convince her that the attraction that burns between them isn’t just leftover teenage lust, but his real love for a real woman…

Praise for New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster

“Bestseller Foster…has an amazing ability to capture a man’s emotions and lust with sizzling sex scenes and meld it with a strong woman’s point of view.”

—Publishers Weekly on A Perfect Storm

“Foster rounds out her searing trilogy with a story that tilts toward the sizzling and sexy side of the genre.”

—RT Book Reviews on Savor the Danger

“The fast-paced thriller keeps these well-developed characters moving.… Foster’s series will continue to garner fans with this exciting installment.”

—Publishers Weekly on Trace of Fever

“Steamy, edgy and taut.”

—Library Journal on When You Dare

“Foster writes smart, sexy, engaging characters.”

—New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan

“Intense, edgy and hot. Lori Foster delivers everything you’re looking for in a romance.”

—New York Times bestselling author Jayne Ann Krentz on Hard to Handle

“Lori Foster delivers the goods.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Tension, temptation, hot action and hotter romance—Lori Foster has it all! Hard to Handle is a knockout!”

—New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Lowell

The Buckhorn Legacy

Lori Foster

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Dear Reader,

The Buckhorn Brothers were originally published back in 2000. Since then, thanks to you, they’ve lived on in reissues and repackages. I often worry about the books standing the test of time; let’s face it, a lot has changed in the past decade!

But one thing that hasn’t changed is the wonderful, giving, caring nature of readers. Many of you have requested the books, so here they are, with the yummiest covers yet! I hope you approve, and I very much hope you enjoy the stories.

Just so you know, the order for the reissues is Buckhorn Beginnings, featuring Sawyer and Morgan. Next is Forever Buckhorn, featuring Gabe and Jordan. And last is The Buckhorn Legacy, featuring Casey.

Many of you have asked me about continuing the Men Who Walk the Edge of Honor series, so I’m really excited to share a full chapter excerpt of Bare It All at the end of this book! Bare It All is actually the second novel in my new Love Undercover series, but Alice, who was a secondary character in the Honor series, is now a lead heroine with her own story to tell. Alice deserves a “happy ever after,” and I hope you’ll agree that Reese is just the man to see it happen.

Happy reading!

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

Epilogue

Bare It All Excerpt

PROLOGUE

THE FAMILY PICNIC had lasted all day, and Casey had a feeling everything that should have been accomplished had been. In fact, even more had developed than he’d expected—like his present uncomfortable situation.

He hadn’t exactly meant to pair up with Emma Clark. She had few friends, none of them female, and Casey had just naturally defended her when the others had started sniping.

So now, with nearly every girl in town chasing after him, he found himself behind the garage at the far end of the house with a girl—the one girl he’d been doing his best to avoid—snuggled up to his side. No one else in the yard could see them. They had complete privacy.

How the hell was a guy supposed to deal with that?

His father and his uncles had been the most eligible bachelors in Buckhorn, Kentucky. It had been fun for Casey growing up in an all-male household and watching his uncles and his dad deal with all that female adoration. Casey had been proud of their popularity and amused by it all. And pleased by the situation, since he’d gained his own share of adoration as he’d matured. He’d learned a lot from watching them—but he hadn’t learned how to deal with Emma.

Like his father and his uncles, Casey loved and respected women, most especially his grandmother and his new stepmother and aunts. But then, they were all so different from Emma.

And that thought had him frowning.

Emma was…well, she had a reputation that could rival his Uncle Gabe’s, and that said something since Gabe had been a complete and total hedonist when it came to his sexuality. By all accounts, Gabe had started young; from what Casey knew, Emma had started even younger.

At seventeen, she flaunted herself with all the jaded expertise of a woman twice her age. Her bleached-blond hair and overdone makeup advertised her status of being on the make.

Lately she’d been on the make for Casey. For the most part, he’d been able to resist her.

For the most part.

Emma’s small soft hand began trailing over Casey’s chest. His heart thumped hard, his body hardened. Very gently, doing his best to hide his reaction from her, he eased her away. “We should join the others.”

In fact, he thought, all too aware of the heat of her young body so close to his own, he never should have been alone with her in the first place. Thanks to his stepmother and her father, he had a great business opportunity coming up. But before he could take advantage of that, he had several years of college to get through. Emma, with her hard-to-resist curves and open sensuality, would be nothing but trouble.

“No.” She stroked down his bare chest, but Casey caught her hand before she reached the fly to his jeans. He liked her more than he should have, and wanted her more than that. Hell, to be truthful, he was crazy nuts with wanting her, not that he’d ever even hinted as much. His plans for the future did not include Emma. They couldn’t.

Emma had led a very different life from him. Tangling the two up wouldn’t be good for either of them.

His head understood that, but his body did not.

It took more control than he knew he had to turn her away this time.

“Emma,” Casey chided, hoping that she couldn’t hear the shaking of his voice. He’d only wanted to champion her, but Emma wanted more. She was so blatant about it, so brazen, that it took all his concentration not to give in. Besides, more than anything else, Emma needed a friend not another conquest. And beyond that, Casey didn’t share.

“Are you a virgin?” she taunted, not giving a single inch, and Casey laughed outright at her ploy. She was determined, he’d give her that. But then, so was he.

Flicking a finger over her soft cheek, he said, “That’s none of your business.”

Her incredible brown eyes widened, reflecting the moonlight and a femininity that went bone deep. She shook her head in wonder. “You’re the only guy I know who wouldn’t have denied it right away.”

“I’m not denying or confirming.”

“I know,” she whispered, still sounding amazed, “but most guys’d lie if they had to, rather than let a girl think—”

“What?” Casey cupped her face and despite his resolve, he kissed her. Damn, it was hard fighting both himself and her. “I don’t care what anyone thinks, Emma. You should know that by now. Besides, what I’ve done or with who isn’t the point.”

“No,” she agreed, her tone suddenly so sad it nearly broke his heart. “It’s what I’ve done, isn’t it?”

Thinking about that, about the guys she’d probably been with and the notoriety of her reputation, filled Casey with possessive rage. So many guys had bragged. Too damn many. Ruthlessly, Casey tamped down the urges he refused to acknowledge, and repeated his own thoughts out loud. “I don’t share.”

“Casey,” she said, shyly peeking up at him, her expression tinted with hope, “what if I promised not to—”

“Shh.” He couldn’t bear for Emma to start pleading, to make promises he doubted she could keep and that wouldn’t matter in the long run anyway. He couldn’t let them matter. “Don’t do that, Emma. Don’t make it harder than it already is. Summer break is almost over and I’ll be leaving for school. You know that. I won’t be around, so there’s no point in us even discussing this.”

Big tears welled in her eyes, causing his guts to cramp. One of her hands fisted in his shirt. “I’m leaving too, Casey.” Her breathing was choppy, the words broken.

Emma leaving? That surprised him. As gently as possible, Casey stroked the tears from her cheeks and then, because he couldn’t help himself, he kissed her forehead. “And where do you think to go, Em?” She hadn’t finished high school yet, had no real prospects that he knew of, no opportunities. Her home life was crap, and that bothered him too. He wanted…

No, he couldn’t even think that way.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I just wanted you to know.”

He didn’t like the sound of that, but had no idea what to say. He could see her soft mouth trembling, could smell her hot, sweet scent carried on the evening breeze. Unlike the other girls he knew, Emma didn’t wear fragrances. But then, she didn’t need to.

Her warm palm touched his jaw. “You’re all that matters to me right now, Case. You and the fact that we might not ever see each other again.”

Boldly, she took his hand and pressed it to her breast. Casey shuddered. She was so damn soft.

His resolve weakened, then cracked. With a muttered curse, he pulled her closer and kissed her again, this time giving his hunger free rein. Her mouth opened under his, accepted his tongue, gave him her own. It didn’t matter, he promised himself, filling his hand with her firm breast, finding her puckered nipple and stroking with his thumb.

She gave a startled, hungry purr of relief, her fingers clenching on his shoulders, her hips snuggling closer to his, stroking his erection, driving him insane.

Casey gave in with a growl of frustration and overwhelming need. He was damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t. And sometimes Emma was just too much temptation to resist.

But it wouldn’t change anything. He told her so in a muted whisper, and her only reply was a groan.

Two Months Later

CASEY SAT BACK in his seat and watched them all with an indulgent smile. Family gatherings had become a common event now that everyone had married and started families of their own. He missed having everyone so close, but they visited often, and it was obvious his father and uncles had found the perfect women for them.

The girl beside Casey cleared her throat, uncomfortable in the boisterous crowd of his family. It didn’t matter because he doubted he’d see her again anyway. Donna was beautiful, sexy and anxious to please him—but she wasn’t perfect for him. He knew it was dumb, considering he wasn’t quite nineteen yet, but Casey couldn’t help wondering if he’d ever meet the perfect girl.

An image of big brown eyes, filled with sexual curiosity, sadness, and finally rejection, formed in his mind. With a niggling dread that wouldn’t ease up, Casey wondered if he’d already found the perfect girl—but had sent her away.

Then he heard his aunt talking to Donna, and he pulled himself out of his reverie. No, she wasn’t perfect, but she didn’t keep him awake nights either. And that was good, because no matter what, no matter how he felt now, he would not let his plans get off track. He decided to forget all about women and the future and simply enjoy the night with his family.

It was late when the family get-together ended and Casey finally got home after dropping off his date. He’d just pulled off his shirt when a fist started pounding on the front door. He and his father, Sawyer, met in the hall, both of them frowning. Sawyer was the town doctor and out of necessity, patients sometimes came this late at night, but as a rule they called first—unless there was an emergency. Casey’s stepmother, Honey, pulled on her robe and hustled after them.

When Sawyer got the door open, they found themselves confronted with Emma’s father, Dell Clark. Beyond furious, Dell had a tight grip on his daughter’s upper arm. His gaunt face was flushed, his eyes red, the tendons in his neck standing out.

Casey’s first startled thought was that even though he hadn’t seen her in two months, Emma hadn’t gone after all. She was right here in Buckhorn.

Then he got a good look at her ravaged face, and he erupted in rage.

He’d been wrong. His plans were changed after all.

In a big way.

CHAPTER ONE

ENRAGED AND UNCERTAIN what he planned to do, Casey started forward. Before he reached Dell, Sawyer caught his arm and drew him up short. “Take it easy, Case.”

Emma covered her mouth with a shaking hand, crying while trying not to cry, held tight by her father’s grip even as she attempted to inch away from him. She wouldn’t look at any of them, her narrow shoulders hunched in embarrassment—and possibly pain.

Casey’s heart hurt, and his temper roiled. Emma’s pretty brown eyes, usually so warm and sexy, were downcast, circled by ruined makeup and swollen from her tears. There was a bruise on her cheek, just visible in the glow of the porch light.

Casey felt tight enough to break as a kind of animal outrage that he’d never before experienced struggled to break free. Every night he’d thought about seeing Emma again, and every night he’d talked himself out of it.

Not once had he considered that he’d see her like this.

His vision nearly blurred as he heard Emma sniff and watched her wipe her eyes with a shaking hand.

With unnecessary roughness, her father shoved her forward and she stumbled across the wide porch before righting herself and turning her back to Casey. Without a word, she held on to the railing, staring out at the moonlit yard. Her broken breathing was audible over the night sounds of wind and crickets and rustling leaves.

“Do you know what your damn son did?” Dell demanded.

Casey felt Sawyer look at him but he ignored the unasked questions and instead went to Emma, taking her arm and pulling her close. It didn’t matter why she was here; he wanted to hold her, to tell her it’d be all right.

Drawn into herself, Emma sidled away from him, whispering a broken apology again and again. She hugged her arms around herself. Casey realized the night was cool, and while Dell wore a jacket, Emma wore only a T-shirt and jeans, as if she’d been pulled away without having time to grab her coat. Since he was shirtless, he couldn’t offer her anything. He tried to think, to figure out what to do, but he couldn’t get his brain to work. He felt glued to the spot, unable to take his gaze off her.

She needed his help.

Honey came to the same realization. “Why don’t we all go inside and talk?”

Looking horrified by that proposition, Emma backed up. “No. That’s not—”

“Be quiet, girl!” Her father reached for her again, his anger and his intent obvious.

Casey stepped in front of him, bristling, coiled. “Don’t even try it.” No way in hell would he let Dell touch her again.

Face mottled with rage, her father shouted, “You think you get some say-so, boy? You think what you’ve done to her gives you that right?”

Without moving his gaze from the man in front of him, Casey said, “Honey, will you take Emma inside?”

Honey looked at her husband, who nodded. Casey hadn’t had a single doubt what his father would do or say. Not once in his entire life had he ever had to question his father’s support.

Never in his life had he been more grateful for it.

Again, Emma tried to back away, moving into the far shadows of the big porch. Casey snapped his gaze to hers, so attuned to her it seemed he felt her every shuddering breath. “Go inside, Emma.”

She bit her lip, big tears spilling over her blotchy cheeks and clinging to her long lashes. Her mouth trembled. “Casey, I…”

“It’s all right.” He struggled to keep his voice soft, comforting, but it wasn’t easy—not while he could see the hurt in her eyes and feel her very real distress. “We’ll talk in a little bit.”

Speaking low and gentle, Honey put her arm around Emma, and reluctantly, Emma allowed herself to be led away. The front door closed quietly behind them.

With his daughter out of sight, Dell seemed more incensed than ever. He took two aggressive steps forward. “You’ll do more than talk. You’ll damn well marry her.”

Casey gave him a cool look of disdain. That Dell could treat a female so callously made him sick to his stomach, but that he’d treat his own daughter that way brought out all Casey’s protective instincts. More than anyone else he knew, Emma needed love and understanding. Yet, her own father was throwing her out, deliberately humiliating her.

“You brought her here,” Casey growled. “You’ve delivered her to my doorstep, to me. What she or I do now is no concern of yours. Go home and leave us the hell alone.”

Though Casey knew it would only complicate things more, he wanted to tear Dell apart. It wouldn’t strain him at all. He was taller, stronger, with raw fury adding to his edge. He deliberately provoked Dell, and waited for his reaction.

It came in a lightning flash of curses and motion. The older man erupted, lunging forward. Smiling with intent, anxious for the confrontation, Casey braced himself.

Unfortunately, Sawyer caught Dell by his jacket collar before Casey could throw his first swing.

At well over six feet tall, solid with muscle, Sawyer wasn’t a man to be messed with. He slammed Dell hard into the side of the house, and held him there with his forearm braced across his throat. He leaned close enough that their noses nearly touched.

“You come onto my property,” Sawyer snarled, looking meaner than Casey had ever seen him look, “treating your only daughter like garbage and threatening my son?” He slammed Dell again, making his head smack back against the wood siding. “Unless you want me to take you apart right now, which I’m more than willing to do, I suggest you get hold of your goddamn temper.”

Dell’s face turned red from Sawyer’s choking hold, but he managed a weak nod. When Sawyer released him, he sagged down, gulping in air. It took him several moments, and Casey was glad that Emma had gone inside so she didn’t hear her father’s next words.

Wheezing, Dell eyed both Sawyer and Casey. “You’re so worried about Emma, fine. She’s yours.” He spit as he talked, his face distorted with anger and pain. “You and your son are welcome to her, but don’t think you can turn around and send her back home.”

“To you?” Casey curled his lip. “Hell no.”

Something in the man’s eyes didn’t make sense. The fury remained, no doubt about that. But Dell also looked…desperate. And a bit relieved. “You swear?”

He should have hit the son of a bitch at least once, Casey thought. He nodded, and forced the next words out from between clenched teeth. “You just make sure you stay the hell away from her.”

Glaring one last time, Dell stepped around Sawyer and stomped down off the porch. At the edge of the grass, he stopped, his shoulders stiff, his back expanding with deep breaths, and for a long moment he hesitated. Casey narrowed his eyes, waiting. For Emma’s sake, he half hoped her father had a change of heart, that he showed even an ounce of concern or compassion.

Dell looked over his shoulder at Casey. His mouth opened twice but no words were spoken. Finally he shook his head and went to his battered truck. He didn’t glance back again. His headlights came on and he left the yard, squealing his tires and spewing gravel.

Casey stood there, breathing hard, his hands curled into fists, his whole body vibrating with tension. The enormity of the situation, of what he’d just taken on, nearly leveled him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think.

Jesus, what had he done?

Sawyer’s hand slipped around the back of his neck, comforting, supportive. A heavy, uncomfortable beat of silence passed.

“What do you want to do first, Case?” Sawyer spoke in a nearly soundless murmur, his voice disappearing in the dark night. “Talk to me, or talk to Emma?”

Casey looked at his dad, a man he loved and respected more than anyone else on earth. He swallowed. “Emma.”

Nodding, Sawyer turned them both around and headed for the door. Casey hoped a few answers came to him before the morning light began creeping over the lake. Because, at the moment, he had no idea what the hell was going on.

* * *

EMMA HEARD THE opening and the closing of the front door. She squeezed her eyes shut, horrified, ashamed, scared spitless.

And oddly relieved.

More tears leaked out, choking her, burning her cheeks and throat. What had she done? What choice had she been given?

Honey touched her arm in a motherly way. “Drink your hot chocolate. And Emma, everything will be okay. You’ll see.”

Shaking down deep in her soul, Emma wiped at her eyes. She felt like a child, and knew she looked more like a barroom whore. Her makeup had long since been ruined and her nose and eyes were red. Her hair was a wild mess and her T-shirt was dirty.

Though the Hudson household was cozy and warm, she still felt chilled from the inside out. In that moment, she wondered if she’d ever be warm again.

Hugging herself in self-conscious dismay, she wished she could just disappear. She didn’t belong in this house with these nice respectable people. But disappearing wasn’t an option. She’d gotten herself in this mess and now she had to face them all. She had to explain.

She owed Casey at least that much.

At that moment, barefoot and shirtless, Casey came around the corner into the kitchen. His muscled arms crossed over his chest as he stopped in front of the kitchen table where she sat. His light-brown eyes, filled with compassion and confusion, warmed to glittering amber as he looked her over.

Stomach churning in dread, Emma flicked her gaze away.

Casey’s father, Sawyer, stood behind him. Honey sat beside her. She felt surrounded, circled by their concern and curiosity, hemmed in by their kindness.

The damn tears welled up again and she felt herself start to shudder. Oh, God, if she bawled like a baby now she’d never forgive herself.

His expression solemn, Casey held out his hand. “Let’s me and you talk a little, Emma.”

She stared at him through a haze of tears.

Sawyer frowned. “Casey…”

“Just a few minutes, Dad. I promise.”

Honey sent Sawyer a pointed look, then patted Emma’s shoulder. “You can use the family room. Sawyer and I will make sandwiches and join you in just a few minutes.”

Keeping her head bowed so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with anyone, Emma left her chair. She didn’t want to take Casey’s hand, and tried to walk around him, but he caught her and his fingers laced into hers. His hand was big and warm, strong and steady. Reassuring.

Normally, just being near him made her feel more secure. But not this time.

To her amazement, when he reached the family room, Casey sat down and tugged her into his lap. She couldn’t remember anyone ever holding her like that before. Emma was so shocked she almost bolted upright, but Casey wrapped both arms around her and pulled her so tightly to him, her head just naturally went to his shoulder. Her shaking increased.

Very gently, Casey stroked one hand up and down her back. “Em? Tell me what’s going on.”

Despite her resolve, she clutched at him. “I’m so sorry, Casey. So, so sorry.”

He pushed her hair away from her face, then reached for a box of tissues on the end table and held them in front of her. Emma blew her nose, but it didn’t help. The tears kept coming and she couldn’t make them stop. “I didn’t mean to get you involved, I swear.”

Calmly, as if she hadn’t just turned his life upside down, he said, “Involved in what?”

That was the thing about Casey. He was always calm, always so mature and sure of himself that, without thinking, she’d used his name and now… Emma grabbed for three more tissues. This was where she had to be careful. “I told my parents that I’m pregnant.”

Casey went very still. Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by her gasping breaths and awful sniffling. Casey sat there, tall and proud and strong, while she fell apart like a deranged child.

In that moment, Emma hated herself.

His hand began stroking her again. “I take it they weren’t too happy about it?”

She laughed, but the humor faded into a wail. “I couldn’t think of what else to do.”

“So you came to me?”

He didn’t seem nearly as outraged as she had expected. But then Casey was so different from any other guy she knew, she didn’t know what to expect from him. He had a good handle on everything, on his life, his temper, his future.

“It’s not…not what you think.” This was even harder than she’d imagined. On the silent drive to his house, with her father fuming beside her, she’d tried to prepare herself, tried to make decisions. But this was the worst thing she’d ever done.

“No?” His thumb carefully smoothed over the bruise on her cheek.

God, she wished he’d say something more, maybe yell at her or throw her out. His calm destroyed what little control she’d been able to hold on to. “No.” She shook her head and leaned away from the gentleness of his touch. It took one breath, then another, before she could speak convincingly. “I don’t need or want anything from you, Case.”

The intensity of his darkened gaze seeped into her and she tried to look away.

Gently, Casey brought her face back up to his. “Then why are you here, Em?”

“I just…” I had to escape. She drew a shaking breath and attempted to gather herself together. The last few hours had seemed endless, and the night was far from over. “I needed to get away and I couldn’t think of anything else.”

A rap on the door made her jerk, and she looked up to see Sawyer and Honey standing there, each carrying a tray. Sawyer held sandwiches and Honey held mugs of hot chocolate.

Emma started to groan. God, they were like Leave it to freakin’ Beaver or something, so homey and together that nothing shook them for long, not even the neighborhood riffraff dropping in with a bombshell that should have disrupted the rest of their lives.

Envy formed a vise around her heart, but she knew she’d never belong to a family like theirs. They’d never want her.

Her own family didn’t.

Sawyer’s smile appeared strained but kind. “I think we should all do a little talking now.”

He set the tray on the coffee table and settled into a chair. Honey did the same. They both seemed to ignore the fact that she’d ended up perched on Casey’s lap, held in his strong arms. But the second Emma realized just how that would look, she shot to her feet. Before she could move too far away, Casey leaned forward and caught her wrist. Unlike her father’s grip, his was gentle and warm.

Casey’s hold offered comfort not restraint.

He came to his feet beside her, and she had the awful suspicion he wanted to provide a united front to his parents. He faced his father squarely, without an ounce of uncertainty or embarrassment. “Emma is pregnant.”

Sawyer’s jaw locked, and Honey looked down at her clasped hands, but not fast enough to hide her distress. When Emma started to speak, Casey squeezed her hand, silencing her. She understood what he wanted to do, and this time it was love clenching her heart. Not infatuation, not jealousy for all he had.

Real love.

There didn’t exist a better man than Casey Hudson. Emma knew in that moment she’d never forget him, no matter what turns her life took in the morning.

Very slowly, her movements deliberate and unmistakable, Emma pulled herself away from Casey. She took one step, then another and another, until she stood several feet away from him.

It wasn’t easy, but she managed to face his parents. This time her gaze never wavered. What she had to say was too important to leave any doubts. “Casey has never touched me.”

Sawyer sat up a little straighter, and his eyebrows came down in a dark frown of bewilderment. Honey’s gaze darted between them.

“Emma…” Casey took a step toward her.

She shot up a hand to ward him off. His nobility, his willingness to sacrifice himself, amazed her and made her love him that much more. She smiled at him, her first genuine smile in weeks. The time for sniffling and crying and being a fool had ended. She owed this family more than that. She owed Casey so damn much. “Casey, when I told my parents I was pregnant, I lied.”

“But…”

Feeling stiff and awkward, she rolled one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I’m sorry.” Her words trembled, nearly incoherent, and she cleared her throat. She wanted to beg him not to hate her, but that wouldn’t be fair. “I know it was wrong. I had to say something to get away and I couldn’t think of anything else.”

His gaze locked on her, Sawyer rose from his chair. He looked angry, but Emma had the feeling his anger wasn’t directed at her. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from backing away at his approach. When she caught Casey’s frown, she halted and forced herself to remain still.

With a large gentle hand on her chin, Sawyer tipped her face this way and that to examine her bruised cheek, then he carefully looked at the rest of her face. He was an imposing man, and she’d always been in awe of him. Now, with him in front of her and Casey close at her side, she almost felt faint.

“What happened to your face, Emma?” Sawyer’s tone left no room for evasions. He expected an answer. He expected the truth.

He couldn’t have it.

Emma touched the bruise, and winced. “I…I fell, that’s all.”

Casey snorted.

She cast him a quick worried look, but couldn’t meet his piercing gaze for more than a few seconds. They didn’t deserve to be lied to, but neither did they deserve to be drawn into her problems. If they knew, they’d never let her get away. She’d done enough to them. From here on out, she would handle things. Alone. She had to.

Sawyer again tipped up her chin, this time to regain her attention. “We can help if you’ll let us.”

Did every one of them take nobility in stride? Emma wiped her eyes on her crumpled tissue, wondering how to explain without telling too much. Shame bit into her, and she sighed. “Dr. Hudson, I’m so sorry—”

Casey caught her elbow and whirled her around to face him, his anger barely leashed. “Quit apologizing, damn it. It’s not necessary.”

Emma pulled back. “I’ve barged in here—”

“Your father barged in, not you.” Casey’s light-brown eyes burned nearly gold, and his jaw was set. “You’re not responsible for what he does, Emma.”

“But…this time I am,” she explained gently. She was very aware of his parents’ attention. “I told him I was pregnant, and I told him…I told him that you were the father.”

She turned to Sawyer and Honey in a rush, stumbling over her words. “Casey hasn’t ever touched me, I swear. He wouldn’t. He’s so much better than that. But I knew if I named any other guy…” She stalled, not sure what else to say. From the time she became a teenager, she’d been with so many boys. And yet, she’d named the only one who hadn’t wanted her.

Hands on his hips, Casey dropped his head forward, staring at the floor. He made a rough sound, part growl, part sarcasm. “None of the other guys would have defended you, would have taken you in.”

Relief that she hadn’t had to explain, after all, made Emma’s knees weak. “I used your integrity against you, and I am sorry.” Twisting her hands together, she faced Sawyer. “Everyone in Buckhorn knows that you and your brothers are good people. I thought that you might help me, so I used Casey’s name to get here. It wasn’t right and I can understand if you hate me, but it was the only thing I could think of.”

“Emma,” Honey murmured, her tone filled with sympathy, “no one hates you.”

Impatient, Sawyer shook his head. “Why did you need to get here, Emma? That’s what I want to know.”

And Honey added, “But of course you’re more than welcome to stay—”

“Oh, no.” Appalled by the conclusions she’d led them to, Emma shook her head. “No, you’re not stuck with me or anything like that.” She’d made a real muddle of things, she realized. “I have no intention of imposing on you, I swear.”

They met her promises with blank stares.

She started trembling again. She’d never felt more unsophisticated or more trashy than she did right at that moment, standing among them. The comparison between herself and them made her stomach pitch. She wanted to take off running and never look back.

Soon, she promised herself. Very soon. “I have some money that I’ve saved up, and I know how to work. I’m going to go to Ohio first thing in the morning.”

“What’s in Ohio?” Casey asked, and he didn’t look so even-tempered now. He looked ready to explode.

A new life, she wanted to tell him, but instead she lied. Again. “I have a…a cousin there. She offered me a place to stay and a job.”

Her expression worried, Honey glanced at Sawyer, then Casey, before tilting her head at Emma. “What kind of job?”

What kind of job? Emma blinked, taken aback by the question. She hadn’t expected this. She’d thought they’d be glad to see her gone. Oh, she’d known that they would offer to let her stay the night, that they’d be kind. She wouldn’t have come to them otherwise. But she figured once she told them she had a place to go they’d send her on her way with no questions asked.

Think, she told herself, and finally mumbled, “I’m not sure, actually. But she said it’d be perfect for me and I assume it’ll be something…reasonable.”

The way they all looked at her, they knew she was lying. Emma started backing away toward the phone. “I…I’m going to call a cab now.” She dared a quick peek at Casey, then wished she hadn’t. In all the time she’d known him, she’d never once seen him so enraged. “When…when I get settled, I’ll write to you, okay?”

Casey again crossed his arms over his chest. “That won’t be necessary.”

Her heart sank and she wanted to crumble in on herself. “I understand.” Why would he want to hear from her anyway? She’d offered herself to him plenty of times—and every single time he’d turned her away. And still she’d barged into his life.

“You don’t understand a damn thing.” Casey began striding toward her. “Emma, you’re not going anywhere.”

His tone frightened her. She felt locked in his gaze, unable to look away, unable to think. “Of course I am.”

“No.” Sawyer strode toward her too, his movements easy, nonthreatening, which didn’t help Emma’s panic one bit. “Casey is right. It’s damn near the middle of the night and you look exhausted. You need to get some sleep. In the morning we’ll all talk and figure out what’s to be done.”

“No…” She shook her head, dazed by their reactions.

“Yes.” Sawyer took her arm, his expression gentle, his intent implacable. “For now, I want you to eat a sandwich and drink some hot chocolate, then you can take a warm shower and get some sleep.”

In a quandary, Emma found herself reseated on the sofa. They weren’t throwing her out? After what she’d done, what she’d just admitted to them?

Her own father, despite everything or maybe because of it, had used the opportunity of her supposed pregnancy to rid himself of her. And her mother… No, she wouldn’t, couldn’t, think about that right now.

Honey smiled at her. “Please don’t worry so much, Emma. Everything is okay now.”

“Nothing is okay.” Why couldn’t they understand that?

Honey’s gentle smile never slipped. “I felt the same way when I first came here, but they’re sincere, I swear. We’re all sincere. We just don’t want you rushing off until we know you’ll be all right.”

Confusion weighed heavy on her brain. She didn’t know how to deal with this.

Casey sat down beside her and shoved a peanut butter and jelly sandwich into her hand. Emma stared at it, knowing she wouldn’t be able to swallow a single bite without throwing up. She had to do… something. She had to get out of here before their acceptance and understanding weakened her resolve.

She would not become someone else’s burden.

Her mind made up, she put the sandwich aside. “I’d really like to just take a shower if that’s okay. I know I look a mess.”

Using his fingertips, Casey wiped away a lingering tear she hadn’t been aware of. He hesitated, but finally nodded. “All right. You can sleep in my room tonight.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Casey grinned at her, then pinched her chin. “I’ll, of course, sleep on the couch.”

Mortification washed over her for her asinine assumption. At her blush, Casey’s grin widened. She couldn’t believe the way he teased her in front of his parents.

“You could have used Morgan’s old room, except that Honey’s been painting it and everything is a mess in there.”

Morgan was his uncle, the town sheriff. Most people thought he was a big, scary guy. He was enormous, but he’d always been kind to Emma, even when he’d caught her getting into trouble, like breaking curfew or being truant from school. Newly wed, Morgan had recently moved into his own house.

“I’ll take the couch.” Emma thought that would be easier, but Casey wouldn’t hear of it.

“You’ll take the bed.”

His father and stepmother agreed with him. In the end, Emma knew she was no match for them. Exhaustion won out and she nodded. “All right.” It would be strange sleeping in Casey’s room, in his bed. A secret part of her already looked forward to it. “Thank you.”

Casey took her down the hall to the bathroom, then got her one of his large T-shirts to sleep in. She knew it was selfish, but she accepted the shirt, holding it close to her heart. It was big and soft and it held his indescribable scent. Since she couldn’t have Casey, it was the next best thing.

Their bathroom was bigger than her whole bedroom. It was clean and stylish and that damn envy threatened to get hold of her again. Emma swore to herself that someday, she’d have a house as nice as this one. Maybe not as big, but just as clean and warm and filled with happiness. Somehow, she’d make it happen.

Knowing it would take forever for it to dry, she didn’t bother washing her long hair. When her opportunity arose, she had to be ready, and she didn’t want to run away with wet hair. She did brush out all the tangles and tie it back with a rubber band. The shower did a lot to revive her and make her feel less pathetic.

After she’d dried off and donned the shirt, Emma glared at herself in the mirror, and cursed herself for being such a crybaby. Casey wouldn’t be a whiner. If something happened in his life, he’d figure out how to deal with it. He’d do what he had to.

And so would she.

With the makeup washed away, her red nose and eyes looked even worse. The bruise showed up more too. It had all been necessary, she reminded herself, but still the thought of change terrified her—just not as much as staying.

She lifted the neckline of the shirt and brushed it against her nose, breathing deeply of Casey’s scent. She closed her swollen eyes a moment to compose herself.

Everyone was waiting for her when she left the bathroom, which made her feel like a spectacle. She was used to being ignored, not drawing attention. In a lot of ways, she preferred being ignored to this coddling. They were all just so…kind.

Sawyer gave her a cool compress to put over her puffy eyes, along with two over-the-counter pills that he said would help her relax and get some sleep.

Honey fussed over her, occasionally touching her in that mothering way. She told Emma to help herself if she got hungry during the night and to let her know if she needed anything.

She’d rather die than disturb any of them further. Emma knew she could be very quiet when she needed to be; she’d learned that trick early in life. Like a wraith, she could creep in and out without making a sound. No way would she wake anyone up tonight.

Honey kissed Emma on the forehead before she and Sawyer went down the hall, leaving her alone with Casey so he could say good-night. Emma was amazed anew that they’d trust her enough to leave Casey in the room with her, especially now that they had firsthand evidence of her character. She was a liar and a user.

Then she realized it wasn’t a matter of trusting her. They trusted Casey, and with good reason.

Casey sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her. After a moment, he even smiled.

Emma remembered how many times she’d done her best to get Casey this close. That last time at his family’s picnic, she’d almost succeeded. But in the end, Casey had been too strong-willed, and too moral to get involved with her. She’d decided that night to leave him alone, and for the most part she’d stuck to that conviction. She hadn’t seen him in so long.

Now he was right next to her and she was in his bed, and she could see the awful pity in his gaze. That hurt so much, she almost couldn’t bear it. She’d make sure this was the last time he ever looked at her that way.

“Are you all right now, Em?”

“I’m fine,” she lied, confident that it would be true soon enough. “I just wish I hadn’t put your family through all this.” She wished she could have thought of another way.

Rather than reply to that, Casey smoothed his hand over her head. “I’ve never seen your hair in a ponytail.”

Her heart started thumping too hard and her breath caught. She stared down at her hands. “That’s because it looks dumb, but I figured I looked bad enough tonight that nothing could make it worse.”

As if she hadn’t intruded in the middle of the night, hadn’t dragged him into her problems, hadn’t disrupted his life, Casey chuckled. “It does not look dumb. Actually it looks kinda cute.” Then, startling her further, he leaned forward and brushed his mouth over her forehead. “I’ll be right out on the couch if you need anything, or if you just want to talk.”

Emma said nothing to that.

“Promise me, Em.” His expression was stern, with that iron determination that awed her so much in evidence. “If you need me, you’ll wake me, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” Not in a million years.

Looking unconvinced, Casey straightened. “All right. I know it’s not easy, but try not to fret, okay? I’m sure we’ll be able to figure everything out.”

We. This family kept saying that, as if they each really wanted to help. She’d made herself his problem by using his name, but by tomorrow he wouldn’t have to worry about her ever again. “Casey? Thank you for everything.”

“I haven’t done anything, Em.”

She lifted his large, warm hand and kissed his palm. Her heart swelled with love, threatening to break. “You’re the finest person I’ve ever met.”

* * *

THE RED HAZE OF DAWN streamed through the windows when Honey shook Casey awake early the next morning. He pushed himself up on one elbow and tried to clear away the cobwebs. He’d been in the middle of a dark, intensely erotic dream. About Emma.

His father stood behind Honey and right away Casey knew something was wrong. “What is it?”

“Emma is better than me,” Honey said.

Casey frowned at that. “How so?”

“None of us heard her when she left.”

Sawyer looked grim. “There’s a note on your bed.”

Casey threw the sheet aside and bolted upright. He wore only his boxers, but didn’t give a damn. His heart threatened to punch out of his chest as he ran to his bedroom. Worry filled him, but also a strange panic.

She couldn’t really be gone.

He came to a halt in the middle of his room. The covers had been neatly smoothed over the empty bed, and on the pillow lay a single sheet of paper, folded in half.

Dreading what he would read, Casey dropped onto the mattress and picked up the note. Honey and Sawyer crowded into the doorway, watching, waiting.

Dear Casey,

I know you told me not to say it, but I’m so sorry. For everything. Not just for barging into your life tonight but for trying to corrupt you and trying to interrupt your plans. It was so selfish of me. For a while there, I thought I wanted you more than anything.

Here she had drawn a small smiley face. It nearly choked Casey up, seeing her attempt at humor. He swallowed and firmed his resolve.

But that would have been really unfair to you.

I’m also sorry that I took the money you had on your dresser.

Casey glanced at his dresser. Hell, he’d forgotten all about the money, which, if he remembered right, amounted to about a hundred dollars. Not enough for her to get very far. Emotion swamped him, then tightened like a vise around his chest, making it hard to breathe.

I had some money of my own, too. I’ve been saving it up for a long time. I promise as soon as I get settled I’ll return your money to you. I just needed it to get me away from Buckhorn, and I figured better that I borrow your money and leave tonight than to continue hanging around being a burden.

Damn it, hadn’t he told her a dozen times she wasn’t a bother? No. He’d told her not to apologize, but he hadn’t told her that he wanted her there, that he wanted to help. That he cared about her.

Have a good life, Casey. I’ll never, ever forget you.

Love,

Emma Clark

Casey crumpled the letter in his fist. He wanted to punch something, someone. He wanted to rage. It felt as though his chest had just caved in, destroying his heart. For a long moment, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t get words out around the lump in his throat.

Sawyer sat down beside him with a sigh. “I’ll call Morgan and see if he can track her down.”

As the town sheriff, Morgan had connections and legal avenues that the others didn’t have. Casey looked at his father, struggling for control. “We don’t know for sure where she’s going.”

“To Ohio, to her cousin, she told us,” Honey reminded them.

“She never gave us her cousin’s name.”

“I’ll call Dell.” Sawyer clapped Casey on the shoulder, offering reassurance. “He’ll know.”

But half an hour later, after Sawyer had finished his conversation with Emma’s surprisingly rattled father, Casey’s worst suspicions were confirmed. Emma didn’t have a cousin in Ohio. As far as Dell knew, there was no one in Ohio, no relative, no friend. Dell spewed accusations, blaming Casey for his little girl’s problems, for her pregnancy, even going so far as to insist he should be compensated for his loss. He said his wife was sick and now his daughter was missing.

Casey suffered a vague sense of relief that Emma had gotten away from her unfeeling father. If only he knew where she’d gone.

If only he knew how to get her back.

Neither he nor Sawyer bothered to explain the full situation to Dell Clark. If Emma had wanted him to know, she would have told him herself. Eventually Dell would know there had never been a baby, that Emma had only used that as an excuse to be thrown out—to escape.

But from what?

Casey hoped she hadn’t gone far, that it wouldn’t take too long to find her. Damn it, he wanted to take care of her, dumb as that seemed.

But hours after Sawyer put in the request to Morgan, he came outside to give Casey the bad news.

Casey had been standing by a fence post, staring out at the endless stretch of wildflowers in the meadow. He’d bored the horses with his melancholy and they’d wandered away to munch grass elsewhere. The sun was hot, the grass sweet smelling and the sky so blue it could blind you. Casey barely noticed any of it.

“Case?”

At his father’s voice, Casey jerked around. One look at Sawyer’s expression and fear grabbed him. “What is it?”

Sawyer quickly shook his head. “Nothing’s happened to Emma. But Morgan checked with highway patrol… They haven’t seen her. There’ve been no reports of anyone fitting her description. It’s like she vanished. I’m sorry, Case.”

Casey clenched his hands into fists, and repeated aloud the words that had been echoing in his head all morning. “She’ll turn up.”

“I hope so, but…something else happened last night.” Sawyer propped his hands on his hips and his expression hardened. “Late last night, Ceily’s diner caught fire.”

Slowly, Casey sank back against the rough wooden post. “Ceily…?”

“She wasn’t even there. It was way after hours, during a break-in, apparently.” Sawyer hesitated. “Morgan’s investigating the fire for arson.”

“Arson? But that means…”

“Yeah. Someone might have tried to burn her down.”

On top of his worry for Emma, it was almost too much to take in. Ceily was a friend to all of them. Everyone in town adored her, and the diner was practically a landmark.

“It’s damn strange,” Sawyer continued, “but the fire was reported with an anonymous call. Morgan doesn’t know who, but when he got on the scene the fire was already out of control. Structurally, the diner is okay, but the inside is pretty much gutted. Whatever isn’t burned has smoke damage.”

Casey felt numb. Things like arson just didn’t happen in Buckhorn.

Of course, girls didn’t accuse him of fathering a nonexistent baby very often either. “Morgan’s okay?”

“He’s raspy from smoke inhalation, but he’ll be all right. Ceily’s stunned. I told her we’d all help, but it’s still going to take a while before she’ll be able to get the place all repaired and opened again.”

Barefoot, her long blond hair lifted by the breeze, Honey sidled up next to Sawyer. Automatically his father put his arm around her, kissed her temple and murmured, “I just told him.”

Honey nodded. “I’m so sorry, Casey. Morgan has his hands full with the investigation now.”

“Meaning he doesn’t want to waste time looking for Emma?”

Honey didn’t take offense at his tone. “You know that’s not it.” She reached out to touch his shoulder. “He’s done what he can, but considering the note she left, there’s no reason to consider any foul play.”

Sawyer rubbed the back of his neck in agitation. “I know how you feel, Case. I’m not crazy about her being off on her own either. Hell, I’ve never seen such an emotionally fragile young woman. But Dell doesn’t want to file her as a missing minor, so there’s nothing more that Morgan can do. She’ll come back when she’s good and ready, and in the meantime, all we can do is wait.”

Honey patted Casey again. “Maybe she’ll contact you. Like Sawyer said, we’ll wait—and hope.”

When Casey turned back to the meadow, both Sawyer and Honey retreated, leaving him alone with his worries. Yes, he thought, she’ll contact me. She had to. They shared a special bond, not sexual, yet…still special.

He felt it. So surely she felt it too.

* * *

THE DAYS TICKED BY without word from Emma.

The fire at the diner had stolen all the news, and Emma’s disappearance was pretty much skipped by most people. After all, she hadn’t made any lasting friendships in the area. The boys had used her, the girls had envied her, and the schools had all but given up on her. Not many people missed her now.

In the next few weeks, the town gradually settled back down to normal, but an edgy nervousness remained because whoever had broken into Ceily’s diner and started a fire was never found. Casey went through his days by rote, hurt, angry with himself as much as with Emma.

Three months later, he got a fat envelope filled with the money Emma had taken, and a few dollars more. In her brief note, Emma explained that the extra was for interest. There was no return address and she’d signed the note: Thanks so much for everything. Emma Clark.

Frustrated, Casey wondered if she always signed her first and last name because she thought he might forget her, just as the rest of the town had.

At least the return of the money proved she was alive and well. Casey tried to tell himself it was enough, that he’d only wanted her safe, that all he’d ever felt for her was sympathy with a little healthy lust thrown in.

But he’d be a complete fraud if he let himself believe it. The truth burned like acid, because nothing had ever hurt as much as knowing Emma had deliberately walked away from him.

He didn’t ever want to hurt like that again.

Since she didn’t want to return, didn’t want to trust him, didn’t want him, he couldn’t help her. But he could get on with his life.

With nothing else to do, he went off to school as planned. And though he knew it hadn’t been Emma’s intention, she’d changed his life forever. He wanted her back, damn it, when he’d made a point of never having her in the first place.

Forget her? There wasn’t a chance in hell that would ever happen.

CHAPTER TWO

Eight Years Later

THOUGH SHE COULDN’T SEE beyond the raised hood, she heard the very distant rumble of the approaching car and gave a sigh of relief. Damon, who had been about to set a flare on the narrow gravel road, walked back to her with the flare unlit. He stuck his head in the driver’s-door window. “I’m going to flag this guy down and maybe he’ll give us a hand.”

Emma smiled at him. “The way this day is going? We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t speed on by and blow dust in our faces.”

B.B. hung his head over her seat and nuzzled her ear. His doggy breath was hot and impatient. Likely, he wanted out of the car worse than she did. The winding gravel roads opened on both sides to endless stretches of overgrown brush that shielded anything from rabbits to snakes. B.B. heeded her call, so she wasn’t really worried about him wandering off. But she also didn’t want to take the chance that he’d get distracted with a critter on unfamiliar ground.

The day had already been endless with one hitch after another. What should have been a six-or seven-hour drive from Chicago to Buckhorn, had turned into eight and a half, and they hadn’t even had a chance to stop for a sit-down meal. Even with the occasional breaks they’d taken and her quick stopover at the hospital, they were all beat. The dog wasn’t used to being confined for so long, and neither was she.

Damon patted her hand. “Stay put until I see who it is. This late on a Saturday night, and in a strange town, I don’t want to take any chances with you.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Damon, I grew up here, remember? This isn’t a strange place. It’s Buckhorn and believe me, it’s so safe it borders on boring.”

“You haven’t been here in eight long years, doll. Time changes everything.”

She scoffed at that ridiculous notion. “Not Buckhorn. Trust me.”

In fact, Emma had been amazed at how little it had changed in the time she’d been away. On their way to the one and only motel Buckhorn had to offer, they’d driven through the town proper. Everything looked the same: pristine, friendly, old-fashioned.

The streets were swept clean, the sidewalks uncluttered. There were two small grocery stores at opposite ends of town, each with varying specialties. The same clothing store that had been there for over a hundred years still stood, but painted a new, brighter color. The hairdresser’s building had new landscaping; the pharmacy had a new lighted sign.

Lit by stately lampposts, Emma had gazed down a narrow side street at the sheriff’s station, situated across the street from a field of cows. Once a farmhouse, the ornate structure still boasted a wraparound porch, white columns in the front, and black shutters. Emma wondered if Morgan Hudson still reigned supreme. He’d be in his mid-forties by now, but Emma would be willing to bet he remained as large, strong and imposing as ever. Morgan wasn’t the type of man ever to let himself go soft.

She also saw Gabe Kasper’s handyman shop, now expanded into two buildings and looking very sophisticated. Apparently business was good for Gabe, not that she’d ever had any doubts. Women around Buckhorn broke things on purpose just to get Gabe to do repairs.

Then she’d seen Ceily’s diner.

Her stomach knotted at the sight of the familiar building, quiet and closed down for the night but with new security lights on the outside. Everyone in town loved that quaint old diner, making it a favorite hangout.

Her heart gave a poignant twinge at the remembrance of it all.

“For once,” Damon said with dramatic frustration, drawing her away from the memories, “will you just do as I say without arguing me into the ground?”

B.B. barked in agreement.

“You guys always gang up on me,” Emma accused, then waved Damon off. “Your caution is unnecessary, but if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll just sit here like a good little helpless woman. Maybe I’ll even twiddle my thumbs.”

“Your sarcasm is showing, doll.” He glanced at the dog. “B.B., see that she stays put.”

The dog hung his head over her shoulder, mournful at the enormity of the task.

The approaching car finally maneuvered through all the twists and turns of the stretching road, and drew near. Arms raised, Damon rounded the hood to signal for assistance. It must be a nice vehicle, Emma thought, hearing the nearly melodic purr of the powerful engine. She’d learned a lot about cars while living with the Devaughns.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t learned enough to be able to change a water pump without a spare pump on hand.

At first, because of the angle of the road, the swerving headlights slanted partially in through her window, blinding her. When the car stopped right in front of them, the open hood of her Mustang kept her from being able to see the occupants. In a town the size of Buckhorn, the odds weren’t too bad that she might recognize their rescuers. Though few people had really befriended her, she’d grown up with them and could still recall many of them clearly.

Beside her, B.B.’s head lifted and he rumbled a low warning growl at the strangers. Emma reached over her shoulder to put her hand on his scruff, calming him, letting him know that everything was okay.

The purring engine turned off, leaving only the night sounds of insects. “Well, hello.”

With amusement in his tone, Damon replied, “Good evening.”

Emma couldn’t see, but she could hear just fine, and the feminine voice responding to Damon was definitely flirtatious. She sighed.

Sometimes Emma thought he was too good-looking for his own good. He wasn’t overly tall, maybe an inch shy of six feet, but he had a lean, athletic build and warm, clear blue eyes and the most engaging grin she’d ever witnessed on a grown man. Everywhere he went, women turned their heads to watch him.

“Can we give you a lift?”

“Actually,” Damon’s deep voice rumbled, “I’d just like to make a call to Triple A. Do you have a cell phone with you? My battery went dead an hour ago.”

A car door opened, gravel crunched beneath someone’s feet, and the next voice Emma heard almost stopped her heart. “Sorry, I don’t carry one when I’m not working. The ringing is too bothersome. But we can take you into town to make the call.”

Stunned, Emma pushed her car door open and slowly climbed out. Damon wouldn’t leave her alone to go to town and make the call, especially once he realized that he’d just flagged down the only person in Buckhorn that she had serious reservations about seeing again.

B.B. jumped over the seat and climbed out behind her, sticking close to her side. The big German shepherd moved silently across the grass and gravel, his head lifted to scent the air for danger, his body alert.

Emma paused a moment in the deep shadows, sucking in fresh, dewy air and reminding herself that she was now an adult, not a lovesick schoolgirl with more bravado than brains. There was no reason to act silly. No reason to still feel embarrassed.

Casey was nothing to her now. He’d never really been anything to her except a friend—and an adolescent fantasy. After what she’d done to him, and after eight long years, friendship wasn’t even an issue.

She had planned to see him, of course. Just not yet. Not when she looked so… Emma stopped that line of thought. It didn’t matter that she wore comfortable jeans and a logo sweatshirt, or that her eyes were shadowed from too little sleep over the past few days.

Smoothing her hair behind her ears and straightening her shoulders, Emma slipped around the front of the Mustang and stepped into the light of the low beams. B.B. stationed himself at her side, well mannered but ready to defend.

Emma took one look at Casey and a strange sort of joy expanded inside her. He looked good. He looked the same, just…more so. With every second of every day, she’d missed him, but she didn’t know if he would even remember her.

“Well, I thought I recognized that voice,” Emma said, proud that only a slight waver sounded in her words. “Hello, Casey.”

Damon twisted around to face her, and Casey’s head jerked up in surprise. Emma held herself still while the woman with Casey scooted closer to him, blatantly staking a claim.

Caught between the headlights of both cars, they all stood there. The damp August-evening air drifted over and around them, stirring the leaves and the tension. Moths fluttered into the light and wispy fog hung near the ground, snaking around their feet. Emma heard the chirp of every cricket, the creaking of heavy branches, her own stilted breath.

His body rigid, his thoughts concealed, Casey stared toward Emma. In the darkness, his eyes appeared black as pitch, intensely direct. He explored her face in minute detail, taking his time while Emma did her best not to fidget.

The silence stretched out, painful and taut, until Emma didn’t know if she could take it anymore.

Finally, he took a step forward. “Emma?”

Like a warm caress, his familiar deep voice slipped over and around her. He said her name as a question, filled with wonder, surprise, maybe even pleasure. At eighteen, he’d seemed so grown up, but now that he was grown, he could take her breath away.

Her smile felt silly, uncertain. She made an awkward gesture, and shrugged. “That’d be me.”

“My God, I’d never have recognized you.” He strode forward as if he might embrace her, and Emma automatically drew back. She didn’t mean to do it, and she silently cursed herself for the knee-jerk reaction to seeing him again. His physical presence, once so comforting, now seemed as powerful, as dark and turbulent, as a storm. The changes were subtle, but she’d known him so well, been so fixated on him, that they were glaringly obvious to her.

At her retreat, Casey drew to a halt. His smile faltered then became cynical, matching the light in his eyes. He veered his gaze toward Damon, and Emma knew he’d drawn his own conclusions.

When he faced her again, his expression had turned icy. “I’m surprised to see you here, Em.”

“My father…he’s in the hospital.” She hated herself for stammering, but when she’d thought Casey might touch her, her heart, her pulse, even her thoughts had sped up, leaving her a little jumbled. No, no, no, she silently swore, wanting to deny the truth. Surely, eight years was long enough. It had to be.

But right now, with Casey so close she could feel the beat of his energy and the strength of his presence, it felt as if less than eight days had passed. Long-buried emotions clamored to the surface, and Emma struggled to repress them again.

Oh, it wasn’t that she still pined for Casey, or that she carried any fanciful illusions. The time away had been an eternity for her. She’d gone from being an immature, needy girl to a grown, independent woman. She’d learned so much, faced so many realities, and she now considered herself a person to be proud of.

But seeing him, being back in Buckhorn…well, some memories never died and her last ones with Casey were the type that haunted her dreams. She could still blush, remembering that awful night and what she’d put him and his family through. Like old garbage, her father had dumped her on Casey’s doorstep—and he’d taken her in.

That wasn’t the only thing that made her hot with embarrassment, though. The nights that preceded her eventful departure were worse. She’d thrown herself at Casey again and again, utilizing every female ploy to entice him—and had always been rebuffed. The strongest emotion he’d ever felt for her was pity.

And now he had no reason to feel even that.

“I’d heard your dad was sick. Will he be all right?”

It didn’t surprise her that he knew. There were few secrets in Buckhorn, so of course he’d heard.

Renewed worry prodded her, sounding in her tone. “He was asleep when I stopped at the hospital earlier, and I didn’t want to disturb him. He needs his rest. But the nurse assures me that he’s doing better. They have him out of intensive care, so I guess that’s a good sign. I just…I wish I could have talked with him.”

“What happened?”

She swallowed hard, still disbelieving how quickly things had changed. The call from her mother had rattled her and she hadn’t quite gotten a grip on her emotions yet. She hadn’t seen her father in so long, but she’d always known he was there, as cantankerous and hardworking as ever. But now… Emma stared up at Casey and felt the connection of a past lifetime. “He had a stroke.”

“Damn, Em. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

She nodded.

Casey shifted closer, scrutinizing her as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. His expression was so probing, she felt stripped bare and strangely raw.

When Casey moved forward, so did the very pretty redhead with him. She plastered herself to his side in a show of possessiveness. “You two have met?”

Casey glanced at her, then draped his arm over her shoulders with negligent regard. There didn’t seem to be any real level of intimacy between them.

But then what did Emma know about real intimacy?

“Emma and I practically grew up together.” Casey watched her as he said it, his eyes narrowed, taunting. “We were close, real close I thought, but she’s been away from town now for…”

“Eight years,” Emma supplied, unwilling to hear him say any more. Close? The only closeness had been in her head and in her dreams. Dredging up her manners, Emma held out her hand and prayed the darkness would hide her slight trembling. “I’m Emma Clark, and this is my friend, Damon Devaughn.”

With a look of suspicion, the redhead released Casey to shake hands politely with both Emma and Damon. “Kristin Swarth.”

“It’s delightful to meet you,” Damon murmured, and Kristin’s frown lifted to be replaced by a coy smile. Damon had charisma in spades and the ladies always soaked it up.

Though Damon had no problem warming up to Kristin, he didn’t treat Casey with the same courtesy. The second she’d first said Casey’s name, Damon had gone rigid and he hadn’t relaxed again.

Now, at the introduction, Casey eyed Damon anew, then drew the woman a little closer. “Kristin and I work together.”

It wasn’t easy, but Emma managed another smile. “I hope we’re not interrupting your plans?”

“Not really.” Casey gave her a lazy look. “I was just about to take Kristin home.”

At the word home, B.B. let out a friendly woof, and Emma laughed. “I’m sorry, I almost forgot. This is my pal, B.B.”

With a wide grin, Casey hunkered down in front of the big dog. “Hello, B.B.”

Using noticeable caution, the dog sauntered forward, did some sniffing, and then licked Casey’s hand. Emma had almost forgotten how good Casey’s family was with animals, Casey included. His Uncle Jordan was even a vet, but they all loved animals and were never without a menagerie of pets.

“Where’d you come up with the name B.B.?”

Emma chuckled, her tension easing with the topic. B.B. was her best friend, her comrade in arms when necessary, her confidant. They’d comforted each other when there was no one else, and now it often seemed B.B. could read her mind. “Big Boy,” she explained, and B.B. barked in agreement.

“He’s a gorgeous dog.” Casey stroked along B.B.’s muscled back, then patted his ribs. “How old is he?”

Damon answered for her, his gaze speculative as he watched man and dog bonding. “We’re not sure, but probably about nine or so. He was young when Emma got him, more a ball of fur with nothing big about him, other than his appetite.”

Emma quickly elbowed Damon, hard. A history of how she’d gotten the dog was the last thing she wanted discussed. She didn’t mean for Casey to witness that prod, but when she glanced down at him, their gazes clashed and held. He didn’t say anything, and that was a relief. When she got Damon alone, she’d choke him.

As Casey scratched the dog’s head and rubbed his ears, Emma absorbed the sight of him. It seemed impossible, but eight years had only made him better—taller, stronger, more handsome. As a teen, he’d been an unqualified stud. As a grown man—wowza.

The gentle evening breeze ruffled his dark-blond hair, and his brown eyes caught and held the moonlight. He wore dark slacks and a dress shirt that fit his wide shoulders perfectly. Emma forced her gaze away. It was beyond dumb for her to be ogling him.

The car behind him was, amazingly enough, also a Mustang, but surely a much newer, ritzier model. Emma nodded at the car, trying to see it clearly in the shadows of the night. “Black or blue or green?”

Keeping his hand on B.B.’s head, Casey straightened. “What?”

“Your car.”

He swiveled his head around and looked at the car as if he’d never seen it before. “Black.”

“Mine is red and in desperate need of a water pump. If you’re heading into town, do you think you could direct someone this way? Or is there even road service in the area yet?”

Casey shook his head. “Hell no. If you call Triple A it’ll take them at least a couple of hours to get out here to you.”

Emma groaned. She was dead on her feet and anxious to get settled. All she wanted to do was shower, eat and sleep, in that order. She’d already stopped at the hospital on the way into town. Damon had kept an eye on B.B., letting him walk about on the grounds while she’d spoken briefly with the nurses before visiting her father.

He’d looked so old and frail, and hadn’t registered her visit. She’d wanted to touch him, to reassure herself that he was alive, stable. But she’d held back. Since the doctor was due to see him again in the early morning, she planned to be there so she could get a full update on his prognosis.

Casey moved closer to her again. “The garage is closed for the night, too. That hasn’t changed. We still roll up the sidewalks by nine. But I can give you both a ride into town if you want.”

Emma looked at Damon. He lounged back against the car and smiled his sexiest smile. “We’ll be staying at the Cross Roads Motel. Is that too far off?”

Casey cocked one eyebrow and gave Emma an assessing look. “You’re not staying with your mother?”

“No.” Just the thought of seeing her mother again, of being back in the house where her life had been so miserable, made Emma’s stomach churn. Because Casey couldn’t possibly understand her reserve, she scrambled for reasons to present to him, but her wits had gone begging. It didn’t help that Damon was deliberately provoking Casey, suggesting an intimate relationship that didn’t exist. “The house is small, and my mother… Well, I, ah, thought it’d be better if…”

Before she could say any more, Damon was there. “We’ve been driving for hours,” he interjected smoothly, “and we’re both exhausted. Just let us grab a few things and we can stop holding you up.”

Casey frowned. “You’re not holding me up.”

“I need to be going,” Kristin said, clearly miffed by the turn of events and the way everyone ignored her. Her tone turned snide and her eyes narrowed on B.B. “But I have my cat in the car and she doesn’t like strangers. She especially doesn’t like dogs. Casey, you know she’ll have a fit if we try to put another animal in there with her. Besides, there’s not room for everyone.”

Casey turned to Emma with a shrug. “I’m afraid she’s right. Kristin treated me to dinner because I agreed to help her move.”

Laying a hand on his chest, Kristin turned her face up to his. “You know that wasn’t my only reason.”

Casey countered her suggestiveness with an inattentive hug. “We’ve got the last load in the car now. The floor and the backseat are already packed.”

Damon brought Emma a little closer, and no one could have missed the protectiveness of his gesture. Emma refrained from rolling her eyes, but it wasn’t easy. She was the last woman on earth in need of protection, but Damon refused to believe that.

“No problem.” The baring of Damon’s teeth in no way resembled a smile. And if Emma didn’t miss her guess, he was relieved to send Casey away. She only wished she felt the same. “Perhaps you could call us a cab, then?”

“No cabs in Buckhorn. Sorry.” Reflecting Damon’s mood, Casey looked anything but sorry by that fact. “And you know, if you don’t get to the Cross Roads soon, you’ll get locked out.”

“Locked out?”

“Yep.” Casey transferred his gaze to Emma—and his eyes glittered with a strange satisfaction. “Emma, you remember Mrs. Reider? She refuses to get out of bed to check people in after midnight.” He lifted his wrist to see the illuminated dial on his watch. “That gives you less than fifteen minutes to make it there.”

The beginning of a headache throbbed in Emma’s temples. She rubbed her forehead, trying to decide what to do. “It was difficult enough convincing her that B.B. wouldn’t be a problem.”

Casey lifted an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you could convince her. She’s not big on pets.”

“Paying a double rate did the trick. And I just know she’ll still charge us if we don’t make it there on time. Her cancellation policy is no better than her check-in policy.”

Casey’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “She’s the only motel in town. She can afford to be difficult.”

“Damn.” Damon started to pace, which truly showed his annoyance, since Damon normally remained cool in any situation.

Casey stopped him with a simple question. “Can you drive stick?”

Somewhat affronted, Damon said, “Of course.”

“Great.” Casey pulled a set of keys from his pocket and tossed them to Damon, who caught them against his chest. “Why don’t you take Kristin on home? The Cross Roads Motel is on the way. You can stop and check in, get your room keys, and then after you get Kristin unloaded, you can come back for us.”

Damon idly rattled the keys in his palm, looking between Casey and Emma. “Us?”

“I’ll stay here with Emma and B.B.”

Emma nearly strangled on her own startled breath. Seeing Casey so unexpectedly had unnerved her enough. No way did she want to be alone with him. Not yet. “I can drive a stick.”

B.B. looked at her anxiously and took an active stance. His muscles quivered as if he might leap after her if she tried to leave.

“Right.” Damon sent her a look. “And you really think he’ll stay alone with me on an empty street while you ride off with a stranger? He’ll have a fit. Hell, he’d probably chase the car all the way into town. It’d be different if we were at the motel and you left, but out here…”

“Okay, okay.” Damon was right. B.B. was so defensive of her, she often wondered if he hadn’t been a guard dog in another life.

“Besides,” Damon added, further prodding her, “the room is held on my credit card.” He stared at Emma hard, undecided, then abruptly shook his head. “Hell no. Let’s forget this. It’s already late, so what’s a few more hours? We can wait for Triple A and then find a motel back on the highway to stay in for the night.”

Emma gave that idea quick but serious thought, and knew the only reasonable thing to do was to stop acting like a desperate ninny. She couldn’t imagine finding another motel that would allow her to bring B.B. inside. Besides, Damon had driven most of the hours, and despite his suggestion, he looked exhausted. B.B. wasn’t in much better shape.

She’d stopped being selfish long ago.

“It’s all right, Damon.” She gave him a smile to reassure him. “I’m beat and so are you. You go on, and B.B. and I’ll wait here.”

Kristin crossed her arms and struck a petulant pose. “Don’t I get a vote on this?”

Casey spared her a glance. “Not this time.” Then he added, “And, honey, don’t pout.” He walked her to the car, his large hand open on the small of her back, urging her along while he spoke quietly in her ear.

Damon used that moment to pull Emma aside. He practically shoved her behind the open driver’s door and then bent close. “Dear God,” he muttered, holding his head. “I can understand why he became your adolescent hero, Emma. He’s testosterone on legs.”

Emma couldn’t help but laugh at Damon’s look of distaste. He wasn’t into the whole machismo display. Damon was far too refined for that, a man straight out of GQ. He also knew exactly how to lighten her mood. Not that he was wrong, of course. If anything, Casey was more ruggedly masculine now than he’d ever been.

Emma decided to tease him right back. “I hate to break it to you, Damon, but he’s obviously into women.”

Refusing to take the bait, Damon glanced over at Kristin with critical disdain. “I’m into women. He’s obviously into twits. There is a difference.”

Casey and Kristin were still in quiet conversation, their bodies outlined by the reaching glow of the car lights. “You really think so?”

“That she’s a twit? Absolutely.”

“No, I didn’t mean that.” She swatted at him and stifled a laugh. “I mean, do you think they’re a couple?”

“Worried?”

Damon knew better. She wouldn’t be in Buckhorn long enough to get worried about Casey and whom he might or might not be involved with. Probably his girlfriends were too many to count, anyway. Until he’d turned sixteen, Casey had been raised in an all-male household. Sawyer and his three brothers had been the most eligible, respected and adored bachelors in Buckhorn. One by one they’d married off, starting with Casey’s father. But Casey had inherited a lot of their appeal and long before Emma had left town, the females had been chasing him. “Only curious. I haven’t seen him in so long.”

Damon’s look plainly said yeah, right. “I think he wants to be into her, if you need true accuracy. Whether or not he likes her—who knows?” Then he added with more seriousness, “You know to most men, liking and wanting have nothing in common.”

That was Damon’s staunchest requirement. He had to genuinely like and respect a woman to decide to sleep with her. Intelligence sat high on his list, as did motivation and kindness. The second a woman got gossipy or catty, he walked away. Unlike many of the men she’d known through the years, Damon wasn’t ruled by his libido. Emma respected him for that, even while she knew he’d be a tough man to please.

Again Emma chuckled, but her humor was cut short as Casey called, “You ready to go?”

Damon ignored him as he cupped Emma’s face, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Will you be okay?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Too fast, doll. That was nothing more than an automatic answer.”

“But true nonetheless.”

He waggled her head. “Just be on guard, okay? I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“I’m not made of glass,” she chided.

“No, it’s sugar I think.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, nipped her knuckles and said, “Yep, sugar.”

Emma was well used to that teasing response—he’d been saying it to her since she was seventeen years old, when they’d first met. She’d been backward, afraid, alone. And he’d treated her like a well-loved kid sister.

Laughing, she turned toward the other car, and caught the censure on Casey’s face. He didn’t say a word, but then he didn’t have to. She knew exactly what he thought. And none of it was nice.

Worse, none of it was accurate.

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