Libby studied him with a brooding look

“I know you’re trying to be gallant here, Holden. But we have to face facts. I was the one who wanted to kiss you that night, Holden. Not the other way around.”

Noting the raw vulnerability in her expression, Holden felt his heart go out to her all over again.

He realized it was his turn to be honest. No matter how much it complicated their lives. “You’re wrong about that, Libby,” he told her hoarsely.

His gaze lingered over her, as he paused to let his words sink in. “I would have given everything I had that night, to see where that burst of physical attraction would lead.”

Dear Reader,

We all feel loyalty. To the people we love, our family and friends, the jobs we cherish and the causes and passions we pursue. But what happens when the cost of our single-minded dedication becomes too much? When it begins to feel like a negative, rather than a positive, force in our lives?

Libby Lowell loved her late husband, Percy, and his family. Now the sole survivor to the family legacy, she has been carrying on in their stead, running the three-generations-old ranch equipment dealership, living in the house where all the Lowells were raised. And last but not least, tolerating—if not exactly appreciating—the continued protectiveness of her late husband’s best friend, the ever-so-gallant Holden McCabe.

Holden McCabe loved Percy, too. More, he feels responsible for the unexpected end of Percy’s young life. Holden has tried to make up for that by keeping the promise he made to Percy shortly before Percy died. It hasn’t been easy. Libby Lowell would rather Holden just stay away from her.

Now, both Libby and Holden are at a crossroads. Libby wants to move on with her life, have a career of her own choosing, and the family she yearns for. Holden wants to be relieved of his guilt. The only way that will happen is if Libby gets the attentive husband and baby she has always wanted, and deserves.

Holden has some ideas about that, of course. Libby isn’t so sure … Together, they find the path to happiness anyway.

Happy reading!

Cathy Gillen Thacker

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CATHY GILLEN THACKER is married and a mother of three. She and her husband spent eighteen years in Texas and now reside in North Carolina. Her mysteries, romantic comedies and heartwarming family stories have made numerous appearances on bestseller lists, but her best reward, she says, is knowing one of her books made someone’s day a little brighter. A popular Harlequin Books author for many years, she loves telling passionate stories with happy endings, and thinks nothing beats a good romance and a hot cup of tea! You can visit Cathy’s website at www.cathygillenthacker.com for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favorite things.

A Cowboy

to Marry

Cathy Gillen Thacker

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Chapter One

Libby Lowell had just ducked into a deserted corner of the Laramie Community Center to check her BlackBerry when a shadow loomed over her. It was Holden McCabe, as big and broad-shouldered and chivalrous as ever….

Libby frowned at the good-looking man who had been her late husband’s best friend, wishing, as always, that the six-foot-three rancher did not feel so compelled to watch over her.

Ignoring the way his shirt brought out the cobalt-blue depths of his eyes, she smiled tersely. “If you’re here for what I think you are, Holden, I have to warn you … I am not in the mood.”

His smile full of mischief, Holden inclined his head toward the buffet tables on the other side of the crowded venue. “For pumpkin or pecan pie?”

Libby rolled her eyes and leaned in a tad closer. The truth was, she was stuffed to the gills from the delicious holiday meal. All she really wanted now was a nice long nap. “For any well-meant but totally unsolicited advice,” she corrected. The kind that Holden thought Percy would have given her, and hence, intended to deliver in her late husband’s stead.

Holden rubbed a hand across his chiseled jaw and continued to play dumb. “Why would you think I want to tell you what to do?” he asked.

“Maybe because just about everyone else has at some point or other today.” Libby lifted a lecturing finger before he could interrupt. “And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, because I saw you talking to my employees, earlier, as well as at least a half-dozen area ranchers.”

He shrugged his shoulders amiably, then folded his arms in front of him. The motion drew her eyes to the solid, muscular contours of his chest.

Swallowing, she turned her attention to his ruggedly attractive face.

Libby didn’t know what was wrong with her. She had known this man for years now. And yet …

Holden leaned toward her. “Of course I was chatting with everyone. It’s Thanksgiving.” And this year, everyone was eschewing private family gatherings to attend a holiday fundraiser for the local children’s home, an event Libby had helped organize.

Not about to have her suspicions blown off, Libby lifted an eyebrow in challenge. “Really? Because it didn’t look like any of you were discussing the probable outcome of the upcoming University of Texas and A and M football game.” Which was what all the men would normally be talking about. She paused again and looked straight into his mesmerizing eyes. “Admit it, Holden. Everyone is coming to you. Trying to enlist your help.”

Keeping his gaze locked with hers, the handsome meddler flashed a dimpled smile. “People are concerned.”

“Well, they shouldn’t be,” she snapped.

Holden leaned in even closer and murmured, “The fear is you are acting rashly….”

“And unwisely?” she couldn’t help but add.

Frown lines bracketed his sensual lips. “Because of the holidays.”

Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s had been hard in the two years since Percy had died. Made even worse by the fact she had no other family left, on either side.

It was just her and the ranch-equipment dealership she had inherited from the Lowells. Stuck in a place that reminded her of all she had lost and would never have again. At least if she stayed in the small but thriving West Texas town of Laramie.

Which was why she had finally come to her senses and decided to stop delaying the inevitable and move on with her life, once and for all. No matter how hard it was going to be initially, she had to do it.

Ignoring the softness of Holden’s gaze, Libby scrolled through the text messages on her BlackBerry until she found the one she wanted. It was from Jeff Johnston and said, Tomorrow evening at seven-thirty all right?

Libby typed in: Perfect. Meet me at the dealership. We’ll go to dinner from there.

Aware of Holden reading over her shoulder, she flashed him another insincere smile, turned off her phone and slipped it back into the pocket of her black cashmere blazer.

“You’re really going to pursue this?” His low, sexy voice rang with disbelief.

Was she? When just agreeing to meet with Jeff Johnston made her feel extremely disloyal? Libby pretended a cool she couldn’t begin to really feel. “This is my decision, Holden.”

It didn’t matter what Percy or his family would have wanted, she reminded herself purposefully. None of them were here any longer….

Holden clamped a gentle hand around her elbow, the action sending ribbons of sensation flowing beneath her skin. “No one is saying otherwise.”

Libby stepped back, pushing aside the sudden onslaught of sexual feeling. For years, she had been devoid of physical yearning. Only to have it all come rushing back now, with the aching desire to be touched, held … loved.

Which was something else that could not happen in this small town, where everyone still saw her as the late Percy Lowell’s wife.

Fighting off her increasing feelings of disloyalty, she said, “They just want me to keep everything status quo.”

“They want you to be happy,” Holden corrected, looking as if he and he alone had the solution to that, too. “We all do.”

Libby looked at him stubbornly, aware of the restlessness inside her. She was thirty-two now, and overwhelmed with the sense that life was passing her by. How would she feel at thirty-four, thirty-five, if she didn’t act …?

“Then forget how you and everyone else feels. And give me room to pursue a possible agreement with Jeff Johnston in my own time and in my own way.”

“I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE thinking, Holden, but Libby is not your responsibility.”

He turned to Libby’s best friend, Paige. The pediatric surgeon, and wife of his cousin Kurt, had made her way to Holden’s side the minute Libby stormed off in a huff.

Not wanting their conversation to be overheard, he ducked into the empty storeroom where the banquet tables were usually stored. “I promised Percy I’d look after her and make sure no one took advantage of her,” he reminded Paige.

“And you have—for over two years now. But Libby is a grown woman, fully capable of making her own decisions.”

“In certain regards,” he conceded. In others, she was still way too giving—and unconsciously sexy—for her own good.

Paige lifted a brow in quiet dissent.

Which prodded Holden to argue, “I don’t have to remind you how emotional and overwrought she was after Percy’s death.” So deliriously “happy” she was practically walking on air one moment then completely devastated the next….

The look on Paige’s face told him she recalled the same tumultuous swings in Libby’s moods. “That was grief and hormones.”

And guilt on his part. Terrible, haunting guilt.

“Beyond all that …” Paige paused. “She made a mistake—an understandable one.”

One, Holden acknowledged painfully, that he and Libby had recklessly gone on to make even worse, and were both still trying to get over.

But Paige didn’t know about that. And hopefully never would.

He scowled. “The point is, none of it would have happened had Percy been alive.”

Libby wouldn’t have trusted him with her secrets and thrown herself joyously into his arms … or called him just hours later, sobbing hysterically, begging him to take her to the emergency room. Only to find out that the terrible malady she’d thought she was experiencing didn’t exist after all.

It had been a horrible, embarrassing mess. One they still hadn’t figured out how to handle.

Oblivious to the complicated nature of his thoughts, Paige sighed. “You’re right. If Percy had been here, she probably wouldn’t have gone off the deep end like that.”

And, Holden thought, he would not have been the one to take a distraught Libby home from the hospital in the wee hours of the morning, or been pressed into staying until dawn until Paige was finally off duty and could be with her….

Paige continued with the matter-of-factness of a physician. “The point is, that time has passed. Libby’s pulled herself together and made a success of the family business she inherited from the Lowells.”

“To the point,” Kurt McCabe stated as he strolled up to them, “that a rival businessman wants to purchase it.”

Not surprisingly, the gravity of the situation had the rest of Holden’s family joining them, too.

“And that,” his brother Hank interjected with the expertise of a cattle rancher, “could spell trouble for all of us.”

“Or not,” Holden’s other brother, Jeb, concluded, with the ease of a man used to taking life as it came. “From what I understand, there’s nothing thus far to indicate Jeff Johnston is a shyster.”

“And nothing that tells us he is not,” their dad, Shane McCabe, warned in a brisk, businesslike tone. “The only thing we do know for certain is that we all need heavy farm equipment to run our ranches. And if anything happens to the tractor dealership here, we’ll have to go a hundred miles to get sales or service.”

“That would definitely be a pain,” Holden’s brother-in-law, Dylan Reeves, said, “but I think we can all agree it’s not the main worry for any of us.”

Holden’s mother nodded emphatically. “Our main concern is Libby,” Greta said with feeling. “None of us want to see her hurt. And, sad to say, the sale of the Lowell family business could be a lot more devastating to her than she thinks.”

AT THE BEHEST OF HIS FAMILY, Holden decided to give it one more try. Unfortunately, by the time he emerged from the storeroom, Libby had already left for home. Holden stopped by the dessert table, picked up some sweets to go and drove to the Lowell residence on the edge of town.

The magnificent two-story stone-and-cedar farmhouse was located just across the road from the tractor dealership. Surrounded by a white picket fence and a beautifully landscaped yard, it had been in the Lowell family for three generations. Libby’s Range Rover was parked in front of the detached garage. Holden parked his pickup beside it.

He was just getting out, foil-covered plate in hand, when a third vehicle drove up. The compact sedan contained two women—Miss Mim, the retired town librarian, and the twentysomething college grad, Rosa Moncrief, who had taken over from her.

So much for spending time with Libby and getting to the heart of whatever was bothering her, Holden thought.

“I am so glad you’re here!” The older woman hurried forward to give Holden a hug, while the younger one shyly said hello. “We need all the help we can get.”

Help for what? Holden wondered, as Libby stepped out onto the porch, looking more exquisitely beautiful than ever. She had already changed out of her party clothes into boot-cut jeans, suede moccasins and a fitted flannel shirt that made the most of her slender five-foot-five frame. Her silky, honey-blond hair had been swept up into a ponytail. She had a pair of sexy reading glasses on her face, a thick novel in her hand. As always when he was near her like this, Holden found it difficult to turn his gaze away or stifle the protective feelings welling up inside him.

Part of it was because he had made a promise to protect her. The other part wasn’t quite so gallant….

Oblivious to the depth of his interest in her, Libby looked curiously from one to the other. “What’s going on?”

“A bit of a conundrum.” Her colorful earrings jangling, Miss Mim rushed forward to hug Libby, too. “I hope you don’t mind—we asked Holden to join us.”

Libby flashed him a look that said she did not exactly share the elder woman’s sentiment, but smiled and beckoned everyone inside.

Holden set the plate of desserts on the hall console while Libby took their jackets. “Now, tell me what’s gotten you so upset,” she urged, as she led them into the sweeping living room, with its mix of comfortable modern furniture and priceless antiques.

Miss Rosa gulped. “You know we’ve had problems with the water lines in the library all year. Well, yesterday morning we had another leak, and Rowdy Whitcombe had to come out and start pulling up the floor. This time, he wasn’t able to fix it, and he left with everything still torn up.” She sighed. “Naturally, I called the county to find out what in the world was going on. All they would tell me was that a few others were coming to assess the problem and that I should get everyone out and keep the facility closed until further notice.”

“That sounds … ominous,” Libby murmured, trading concerned glances with Holden.

Wishing he was sitting close enough to give her hand a squeeze, he nodded back.

“Which is why I got involved,” Miss Mim confided with an unhappy sigh. “But by then the government offices had closed for the Thanksgiving holiday.”

Clasping his hands between his knees, Holden leaned forward. “Did you try talking to Rowdy?”

Miss Mim nodded. “He wasn’t at liberty to reveal much at this juncture, but said that if the situation was what he suspected, the library might be closed for a good long while.”

“Which would be a problem,” Libby said worriedly. “So many residents depend on it.”

Holden knew she spent a lot of time there, too. Books had always been of great comfort to her. Even more so after Percy died….

“Plus—” Miss Rosa’s low voice quavered “—we have all those Christmas events planned for the children, starting Monday. All the book clubs in the area have signed up to use the space for their holiday parties. Not to mention all the free literacy tutoring that goes on there.” She wrung her hands in distress. “I’d arranged for a tree and everything!”

“And we all know,” Holden murmured, “how bureaucracy can slow things down.”

“No kidding!” Miss Mim turned back to Libby, her gaze intent. “We’re going to need a real crusader. Which is, of course, why we came to you!”

Libby smiled. “I’ll do everything I can to help.”

“Me, too,” Holden promised.

Beaming, Miss Mim and Miss Rosa stood. “With a Lowell and a McCabe on the job, how can we go wrong?” the older lady joked.

Holden went with Libby to show them out. “Actually, you’ll have a lot of McCabes,” he promised, “as soon as I let the family know what’s going on.”

Briefly, Libby’s expression looked pinched. “As far as the Lowells go, it’s just me. But I promise you I’ll give the situation my all.”

Thanks were given. More hugs ensued. And then the two librarians slipped out the door.

“Well.” Libby squared her slender shoulders and drew an innervating breath. “There’s never a dull moment around here.”

“The people of this community have come to rely on you,” he said.

Unhappiness glimmered in Libby’s green eyes as she regarded him. “That’s not what I need to hear.”

He had hurt her. Again. Without meaning to do so. He injected as much gentle levity into his tone as he dared. “What do you need to hear, then?”

She snorted indignantly. “Oh, something along the lines of you understand that although I have done everything I could to live up to the wishes of Percy and his parents in maintaining the Lowell family tradition and legacy in Laramie … you also know I’m leading a life I never intended to lead.”

“I thought you liked running the dealership.” She was certainly good at it.

She peered at him through narrowed lashes. “I like managing things, keeping things running and solving problems. I have no passion for farm and ranch equipment, per se.”

He flashed her a cryptic smile. “You don’t dream about combines and harvesters?”

Contrary as ever around him, she replied, “I have the occasional nightmare about a delivery not arriving in time for a rancher to harvest the crop that’s going to feed his cattle all winter.”

Holden cleared his throat, regarding her steadily. “You’re serious.”

She wandered back into the living room and plopped down on the sofa with her book. “Oh, yes.”

He watched her slide her reading glasses back on her nose. “You never said anything.”

She winced again. “That would have been ungrateful, wouldn’t it?” Libby paused in the act of opening her novel. “Here I am, having inherited a beautiful home, a thriving business and the mantle of the esteemed Lowell name.”

Holden sat opposite her and studied the elegant contours of her face.

“When all I really want, if I’m to be perfectly honest …” Libby raked her teeth across the velvety pink softness of her lower lip.

He gripped the arms of the chair and rocked forward slightly, guessing, “All you really want is your husband back.”

A pained silence fell between them. When she spoke again, her defenses were up. “We both wish that were possible.”

“I’m sorry, Libby.”

“Please.” She lifted a delicate palm. “Don’t apologize. Not again …”

How could he not? Holden thought with a fresh flood of guilt. “If Percy and I hadn’t gone on that white-water rafting trip in South America right after my marriage busted up …”

The light faded from her eyes. “He knew you were devastated when you lost the baby and Heidi, all at once.”

The reminder of his loss had a wealth of undercurrents. “I never should have married her.”

Libby sighed, perceptive as ever. “That’s true, since shotgun weddings have a very low success rate. But,” she continued with laudable understanding, “you’re a noble guy … and you were head over heels in love with her.”

Holden folded his arms over his chest. “Even if it turns out Heidi didn’t feel the same way.” To his ex-wife, he had been her rebound guy from another relationship.

“You did what you thought was the right thing, in marrying her,” Libby soothed.

“And failed, anyway.”

She nodded, recalling compassionately, “And Percy wanted to cheer you up.”

Wearily, Holden shoved his fingers through his hair. “I should have said no.”

“Then Percy would have gone alone.”

Holden looked at her in disbelief.

Leaning forward, Libby took off her glasses and confided, “You weren’t the only one unhappy at the time, Holden. Percy was feeling hemmed in. He was tired of running the dealership in the wake of his parents’ death, tired of living the ‘expected, ordinary’ life. He needed that little burst of pure freedom.”

Holden grimaced in regret. “But he had responsibilities. We both knew the Rio Suarez could be dangerous.” Many of the rapids were a grade four plus …!

Libby shrugged, clearly not as inclined to rewrite history as Holden was. “If your raft hadn’t started to take on water and collapse the exact moment you hit the rapids,” she said with a resignation that came straight from her soul. “If Percy hadn’t jumped to save you …”

“And succeeded,” Holden stated hoarsely.

“He never would have slammed into those boulders himself, or broken his leg and nearly drowned, until you and guides saved him. He wouldn’t have needed to go to the hospital in San Gil, which was miles away, over rough terrain. His wounds wouldn’t have become infected, and he wouldn’t have started running a fever.”

“And begged me to watch over you.”

Abruptly, Libby looked as numb as she had at the funeral. “Had none of that happened, Percy would have lived.” She stood and gazed deep into Holden’s eyes. “But he didn’t.” Restlessly, she paced the length of the room. “And now you and I are here. Dealing with the aftermath of my late husband’s reckless nature, each and every day.”

Holden caught up with her. “You have to know,” he croaked, gripping her hands, “if I could take it all back …” Make your life better. Make you happy again …

“I know, Holden. You would.” Libby squeezed his palms, then let go. Sadness glimmered in her green eyes as she confessed, “And I would, too. But we can’t. Instead, we have to deal with the fact that around here, I will always be Percy’s ‘tragic’ widow. The keeper of the Lowell legacy, and the go-to person for all community problems needing solving. Around here, I’ll never be just me. The Libby who grew up in Austin, and who wants a different kind of life.

He sighed heavily, watching her pained expression as she continued speaking her mind.

“Just as you will always be remembered as the guy who got quickly and unceremoniously dumped after Heidi lost your baby. The difference is, you’ve always lived here. You have tons of family in the area. And a ranch that you’ve built that will be your legacy from here on out.” She met his eyes. “Divorced or no, this is the life you are supposed to be leading. Mine was here only as long as Percy was alive.”

She had thought this through, Holden realized in shock. “You’re serious about moving on, then.”

“After more than two years?” Libby put her glasses back on her nose. “Yes. Very.”

“So if this Jeff Johnston comes in with a good offer …”

“Or even a decent one,” she affirmed.

“You’ll take it.”

Libby nodded, keeping the wall around her heart intact. “And I’ll sell the house, move on … and never look back.”

Chapter Two

“You’re sure this is going to be okay?” Rosa asked Libby nervously on Friday morning.

Libby nodded and waved the library employee toward the dealership showroom. “You can set up a return desk over there in the corner. The books on hold—and the checkout and information counter—can go next to that.”

Miss Mim came to join them. She’d brought with her a small army of library volunteers carrying armloads of supplies, boxes of books, even a computer. “Hopefully, we won’t need to be here more than a couple of days.”

Libby smiled at both librarians. “I’m sure we’ll get this straightened out by then. In the meantime, library patrons will have a place to go for the essentials and information.”

The dealership business was carrying on as usual. Two ranchers were in the offices, signing papers on new tractors and equipment. Another three were lined up to arrange service on their machines. And Lucia Gordon, the receptionist, was headed straight for Libby, a handsome thirtysomething man in a tweed sport coat and jeans by her side.

The tall stranger smiled as he reached her and held out his hand. “Libby Lowell, I presume?”

She grinned back. “The one and only.”

He shook her hand. “Jeff Johnston.”

Libby’s jaw dropped in surprise. “I thought we weren’t meeting until this evening.”

“I wanted to let you know I had arrived and checked in at the Laramie Inn.” Jeff looked around. “Plus I thought it would be good to see the place through the eyes of a regular customer.” His brow furrowed as he noticed the temporary library being set up. “What’s going on over there?”

Libby noted he didn’t look pleased. Briefly, she explained the problem, as well as her solution, adding, “That’s the way things work in a small town. We all go the extra mile to help each other out.”

Jeff rubbed a hand across his jaw, considering that. “None of the customers seem to mind.”

But, Libby noted, the next man coming into the dealership seemed wary. Not of what was going on in the corner, but of the man she was standing with.

Holden reached her and nodded at Jeff. “Johnston.”

“McCabe.”

Libby fought off a second wave of surprise. She squared her slender shoulders. “You two know each other?”

An inscrutable glint appeared in Holden’s eyes as he informed her casually, “We met a little while ago at the Daybreak Café.”

Which wasn’t surprising, Libby guessed, since the restaurant owned by Holden’s sister, Emily, was the place in town to have breakfast.

“I was chatting up the locals, asking around, to see how people felt about the dealership,” Jeff explained.

Libby tensed, not sure how she felt about that. Shouldn’t any questions have been directed at her first?

“Anyway, we’re still on for dinner this evening, right?” Jeff asked.

She nodded.

“Great. I’ve got a lot of questions and things I’d like to discuss.” He inclined his head and strolled off.

Holden gave Libby a steady look that sent heat spiraling through her. “Tell me you’re taking someone with you. Like a lawyer.”

Clearly, Holden didn’t trust Jeff Johnston. For reasons that had more to do with his loyalty to her late husband—and to her—than to Johnston’s overarching ambition, she suspected.

Libby folded her arms and moved closer to him. “I’m not paying a lawyer to sit through polite get-to-know-each-other chitchat.”

Holden looked at her soberly. “Obviously, Johnston wants it to be more than that. He appears anxious to get you to sign on the dotted line, here and now.”

She stepped back. “Then Mr. Johnston will be disappointed,” she said firmly, uncomfortably aware that she’d had the same impression of the businessman. “But if it will make you feel better … you can tag along,” she offered reluctantly.

Holden grinned as happily as if she had invited him into her bedroom. “Seriously?”

Doing her best to quell her conflicting emotions, Libby nodded. She did not want to depend on Holden, emotionally or otherwise. She had allowed herself to do that once, right after her husband’s passing, and the result had been disastrous for both of them. To the point that guilt and discomfort from that time were still with both of them.

But she was smart enough to know that the easiest way to keep one man from becoming too aggressive with her was to put another equally driven and protective man into the mix. So for now, for tonight, she would allow her late husband’s best friend to appease his conscience by employing his innate gallantry on her behalf, once more.

Having decided that, she sighed.

Glancing up at Holden, she couldn’t help but note how good he looked in that green corduroy shirt and jeans. His short dark hair was thick and rumpled, and his face had the shadow of beard that came from going twenty-four hours without a razor. But it was the cobalt-blue of his eyes, the compassionate set of his sensual lips, that really drew her in.

“Thanks for inviting me,” he said.

Libby gave him a glance that warned him not to get too carried away. “It makes more sense to have you at the table with us than to have you hovering somewhere in the background, trying to watch over me from a distance.” Which, she knew, he was likely to do, given the depth of his concern about the potential pitfalls of the situation she was in.

And if she was completely honest, Libby admitted, she wouldn’t mind having Holden at the first official meeting.

The handsome rancher was bound to be a lot less emotional about the proposed transaction than she, and would give her perspective on everything said.

In certain situations, two were better than one.

This, Libby figured, was one of those times.

“I DIDN’T REALIZE THE TWO of you were dating,” Jeff Johnston said to Holden and Libby after they had ordered their meals.

Taking comfort in the laid-back ease of the Wagon Wheel Restaurant, she sipped her iced tea. “Holden is here as a friend.”

Jeff quirked a brow. “Do you always take friends to business meetings?”

Aware that her throat still felt parched, and that she was far too conscious of Holden and his sexy masculine presence, Libby took another drink. “No.”

Jeff glanced at her curiously. “Then …?”

She searched for an explanation for herself, as well. Ignoring Holden’s equally probing look, she told Jeff, “You wanted to know how the ranchers in the area feel about the dealership. Holden can tell you that.”

The other man turned to him. “How is the level of service?”

“Excellent,” Holden stated promptly. “First and foremost, prices are fair.”

“Almost too much so,” Jeff countered. “Since the profit the company is taking on sales is slightly below the industry standard.”

“It’s a competitive market,” Libby interjected. “We aim to please.”

“And they do,” Holden said candidly. “From the time you walk in the door, Lowell Ranch Equipment employees are there to help you decide what heavy machinery you need, and how to obtain financing. And they are just as dedicated when it comes to providing any service or parts required. Because of that, they have a very loyal customer base.”

“You’re not just saying that because Libby is your ‘friend’?” Jeff chided.

“Libby doesn’t need me to exaggerate on her behalf,” Holden said, beginning to sound a little irked at the remark. “Lowell Ranch Equipment has been in business for three generations, and has served a hundred-mile rural area for the last seventy years. The commitment of the sales and service staff has never wavered.”

Jeff nodded, as if his research had garnered the same data. “I notice a lot of the employees are older, though. Fifty plus …”

For the thirtysomething Jeff, that was a problem, Libby noted unhappily. “Ten of our employees are in that age demographic—they have worked at the business their whole adult lives. Three others are in their twenties, but equally as committed to careers with us.”

He frowned. “Meaning you would be opposed to me letting at least some members of your staff go, and bringing in my own people?”

She stiffened her spine, the tough businesswoman inside her coming to the fore. “I won’t sell to you unless there is a guarantee you’ll continue to employ every person currently working there for as long as they want to stay, at their current salary and benefits.”

“You realize that could sour the deal,” Jeff warned.

Libby turned her hands palm up. “Then it does.”

He sat back in his chair as their dinners were put in front of them, and considered her position. “Well, that explains why everyone is so loyal.”

Libby picked up her knife and fork. “We’ve had virtually no turnover, because it is such a good place to work. The fact the customers know who they are going to be dealing with is a comfort to them. Everyone feels like family.”

Jeff cut into his steak. “In my experience, business and personal affairs don’t mix.”

She took a bite of her grilled redfish. “That may be true in Houston. It’s not the case in Laramie.” She paused long enough to meet Holden’s encouraging glance, then asked Jeff, “Why do you want LRE so badly?” He had been calling her every few months since Percy died, asking if she wanted to sell.

He added butter to his baked potato. “I specialize in acquiring businesses with no internet presence and taking them online. LRE would be my biggest acquisition yet. I see great potential for growth. In fact, you could stay on if you want, Libby, because I’m not going to be there more than once a week—if that—and I’ll need someone to manage it.”

“Thank you for the offer, but—no. I’m selling because I want out.”

“You’re planning to leave the area, then?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Libby saw Holden tense. “Yes.”

Jeff leaned toward her. “What about the house? Are you interested in including it in the sale? ‘Cause I’m going to need someplace nice to stay when I’m in town.”

Libby hesitated. How did she feel about that? “We could negotiate,” she said cautiously. “If the price is right, of course.”

“Can I see it tonight?” Jeff asked eagerly, while Holden tensed even more.

Ignoring his obvious disapproval, Libby shrugged. “I suppose a brief tour would be okay.”

Victorious, Jeff smiled. “Then let’s do it!”

They talked more as they ate. No one wanted dessert, so as soon as the check was paid, they went out to their vehicles. Libby took the lead in her Range Rover, with Jeff following in his Maserati and Holden trailing behind in his pickup truck.

Her self-appointed protector looked even grimmer when they arrived at the house.

The first thing that caught Jeff’s eye was the Lowell photo gallery that lined much of the foyer and both walls of the grand front staircase. “Wow.” He stopped at the framed pictures of three generations of Lowells, then he studied Percy and Libby’s wedding photo.

“You were awfully young when you got married.”

She had been. “Twenty-two. Right out of college.”

“And you were married how long?”

Libby noticed Holden studying the photos, too, with the familiar mixture of grief, guilt and sadness. “Almost eight years.”

Jeff turned back to her. “I can see why you want to sell,” he told her empathetically. “Residing here must feel like living in a mausoleum.”

Aptly put, Libby thought.

“The tour?” Holden said, looking irritated again.

Libby inhaled and braced herself for another slew of questions from the ambitious businessman. “Let’s get started,” she said. So I can put this evening—and the onslaught of confusing emotions—behind me.

HOLDEN KNEW LIBBY WAS ticked off at him. And maybe he was overstepping his bounds. But when Jeff Johnston asked to see the second floor …

“Not a good idea.” Holden moved to block the way to the stairs.

Jeff turned to Libby with a goading smile. “I thought the two of you weren’t involved.”

“We’re not,” she said, a hint of color coming into her cheeks.

Maybe not in the traditional way, Holden thought. But they were linked through Percy’s memory. And he had made a promise not to let anyone take advantage of his best friend’s widow. A promise he would continue to carry out until his dying day.

“Actually, we are,” he stated flatly.

Libby’s jaw dropped in shock. “I can’t believe you just alluded to that,” she said, glaring at Holden.

It didn’t matter, he thought, because Jeff clearly believed him, not Libby. And Johnston’s obvious respect for another man’s territory would keep him from making an untoward pass at Libby, at least for now.

“I’m going to head out,” Jeff said, his demeanor slightly less personal as he backed off. “But I’ll be in touch.”

“I look forward to it.” Libby’s tone was crisp and businesslike. Spine stiff, she walked him to the door.

As soon as he’d left, she whirled back to Holden and inhaled, the action lifting the soft curves of her breasts. A pulse worked in her throat as she kept her eyes meshed with his. “You had no right to tell Jeff Johnston he couldn’t go up to the second floor.”

Holden found himself tracking the fall of honey-colored hair swinging against her shoulders and caressing the feminine lines of her face. Wondering if it was as silky to the touch as he recalled, he asked, “You were really going to let Jeff Johnston see the bedrooms?”

“No, of course not.” Libby propped her hands on her hips and sent him a chastising look. “Not without having a chance to tidy up and get the property ready to show!” She inched closer, inundating him with a drift of cinnamon perfume. “But that’s not the point, Holden.”

Desire sprang up within him, as surely as irritation had. Reminding himself she was off-limits for a whole host of reasons, he returned carefully, “Then what is the point?”

Their eyes locked, providing another wave of unbidden heat between them. “You intimated to him that you and I are having a fling.”

“No.” Holden savored her nearness, and the pleasure that came from being alone with her, in a way they hadn’t been for months now.

He turned and wandered toward the cozy family room in the back of the house. “I said we are involved,” he corrected, as he passed another row of photos, of Percy and Libby together, involved in all the outdoor activities Percy loved.

Reminded that Libby was once his best friend’s wife, Holden shoved his hands in the pockets of his wool trousers and drawled, “I just didn’t say how we are involved.”

She stepped out of her heels and stood holding the sexy shoes, as if she wanted to lob them at his head. “Same difference,” she snapped.

Holden let his glance drift down her spectacular pantyhose-clad legs to her toes. “Really?” His gaze returned slowly and deliberately to her face, pausing on her lips, before moving to her long-lashed green eyes. Ignoring the threat of the stilettos, he leaned closer still and dropped his tone to a husky whisper. “‘Cause I don’t remember anything sexual or romantic happening between us.”

Libby sniffed and sent him a quelling look. “Only because you came to your senses and put a stop to it.”

Wanting something wasn’t the same as taking it. Particularly when they both had been lost and hurting, searching for any way to end the pain.

As it turned out, Holden recalled soberly, neither of them could have lived with that.

Curtailing his rising emotions, he shrugged. “You said it was for the best.”

Libby kept her distance, eventually drifting over toward the fireplace, where she pivoted, her back to the mantel. Raking her teeth across her lower lip, she admitted quietly, “And that was true. I wasn’t myself that night.”

For a long time, Holden had let himself believe that.

Now, cognizant of the tension that charged the air between them, he studied the mixture of regret and longing in her eyes. Found himself theorizing before he could stop himself, “And maybe you were yourself, Libby. Maybe your instincts were right.”

Another shadow crossed her eyes. “What are you saying?”

Holden looked at the gold broken-heart pendant shimmering against the delicate ivory of her skin. Lower still, he could see the hint of cleavage in the V neckline of her black cashmere sweater dress. “That if I hadn’t been such a gentleman … If I had allowed us to follow through on our urges …”

Maybe she wouldn’t have held him at arm’s length all this time. Maybe they could have shrugged off that flare of desire and gone back to being friends. Kissed and found out there was no chemistry between them, after all. Or argued and cleared the tension that way.

Instead, they had been adult about it. Distant. Careful. Unerringly polite. And tense as could be.

Libby studied him with a brooding look. “I know you’re trying to be gallant here, Holden. But we have to face facts. I was the one who wanted to kiss you that night. Not the other way around.”

Noting the raw vulnerability in her expression, Holden felt his heart go out to her all over again.

He realized it was his turn to be honest. No matter how much it complicated their lives. “You’re wrong about that, Libby,” he told her hoarsely.

His gaze lingered on her, as he paused to let his words sink in. “I would have given everything I had that night to see where that burst of physical attraction would lead.”

She shook her head. “But we couldn’t because I was a wreck. In some ways I still am a wreck.”

Not sure what she meant, Holden stared at her.

Libby lifted her hands. “It’s this house, Holden. The dealership. I can’t be either place without feeling like Percy’s wife.” Her voice caught and her lower lip trembled. “That’s the real reason I can’t stay here in Laramie. If I do, I’ll never be able to move on.”

As Holden looked around, he saw what she meant.

The home was brimming with signs of Percy and his folks, and the generations who had lived here before that.

It was clearly a Lowell domain.

Holden recalled that Libby had suggested a few small changes after they had taken over the residence, when Percy was still alive. All had been gently but firmly refused. Libby, in her usual genial way, had stopped bringing up the subject. And although she could have redecorated since Percy died, she hadn’t. Probably because it would have felt disloyal, an insult to his memory, or disrespectful to his wishes.

No wonder she felt trapped, Holden mused sympathetically. He edged closer. “You want to get married again?”

Determination stiffened her slender frame. “Of course. I want to fall in love. I want to have kids. I want to feel like everything good is still ahead of me.”

Everything she would have had, Holden thought, on a fresh wave of guilt, had her husband still been alive.

“Then you’re going to have to do a lot more than just sell the dealership and the house,” he told her sternly. “You’re going to have to start dating again.”

Libby eyed him mockingly. “Thank you, Dr. Phil.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are.” Her hips swaying provocatively, she strode past him toward the kitchen.

Like every other room in the house, it had been decorated long before Libby arrived on the scene. And although the color scheme was okay—if you liked bleached oak cabinets and beige walls—the once top-of-the-line appliances were definitely showing their age. As were some of the wall hangings and wooden blinds.

“The only problem is, no one will ask me out.”

She hit the switch, flooding the room with light, then headed for the fridge.

Holden followed her lazily. Glad she had decided to do something to distract them from the new tension between them, he watched her rummage through the contents until she emerged with a chocolate-and-peppermint Yule log from the local bakery.

His mouth watering for more than the sweet, he settled against the counter.

“That’s because you’re still putting out the I’m-a-widow-and-therefore-off-limits-to-anyone-with-any-sensitivity vibe.”

Libby stood on tiptoe to reach the dessert plates. “I am not.”

He came forward to help her, steadying her with a hand to her waist. “Yeah … you are.” He finished getting the dishes down for her. “But we can fix that.”

Her lips pursed stubbornly. “How?” she asked, cutting two slices and handing him one, complete with a fork.

Holden settled opposite her at the table. Their knees touched momentarily. Regretting the contact—and the sizzle of warmth it engendered—he pulled back and continued to focus on solving her problem. “By finding you a rebound guy.”

Libby frowned. “I get that you’re trying to help me, but why would you want any other guy to sign up for that—after what you went through with your ex?” She scowled protectively, like the close friend she had once been before their ill-fated kiss-that-never-quite-happened. “Heidi broke your heart! To the point that you’ve never dated seriously since.”

“I haven’t dated seriously because I haven’t found the right woman,” Holden corrected bluntly. “But I should put myself out there if I want to move on, too. And I do.”

Libby went very still. “What are you suggesting?”

Holden’s spirits rose as the idea took on momentum. “That we both shake off the rust. Get back in the game.”

Libby licked the frosting off the back of her fork. “By that you mean …?”

“Go out to dinner. Attend holiday parties. Really celebrate the season. Who knows? If you and I get back in the habit of dating again, it might give us both a whole new outlook on life.”

Libby’s soft lips took on an enticing curve. “Meaning what?” she murmured cynically. “I might be so content I won’t want to sell the dealership and move out of town?”

He grinned at her sarcasm and lifted a palm. “I’m just saying …”

Silence fell as the notion stuck. They studied each other.

Libby took the last bite of her dark chocolate cake, savoring the sweet decadence. “So, cowboy with all the answers, how do you propose I find my rebound man?”

Chapter Three

“You’re looking at him.”

Libby stared at Holden, sure she hadn’t heard right. “Why in the world would you do that, after the way you were hurt the last time?”

“Unwittingly being someone else’s rebound person is what makes me right for the task. I know you still love Percy and always will. It’s not going to be easy for you to move on.”

Guilt threatened to overwhelm Libby. She and Percy hadn’t been in love at the end. But no one knew that…. “Don’t put me up for sainthood,” she said quietly. She had enough of that from the community every single day. “Because I’m not the perfect woman and I was never the perfect wife.”

“Percy sure thought otherwise.”

More guilt flooded her heart.

“He’d never met a woman who was more accommodating.”

Libby pushed back her chair and carried her plate to the dishwasher. “Which is one reason I’m so unhappy,” she remarked lightly. “I’ve spent too much of my life trying to please everyone else.”

Holden put his dish and fork in the machine, too. Then he leaned against the counter, watching her. “Your aunt Ida?”

Libby could feel him sizing her up, trying to figure out how to convince her to stay where he could keep an eye on her, and hence, continue to fulfill his deathbed promise to her late husband.

Wishing she weren’t so aware of Holden’s presence, Libby retreated into scrupulous politeness. “I was only seven when my parents died. Even though my aunt was in her fifties at the time, she took on the responsibility of raising me.” She sighed. “I loved her dearly and will always be grateful to her for taking me in. But … because I was her only remaining family and she mine … she was paranoid about potential dangers and kept me on a very tight leash.”

“I remember you had to live at home with her while you were attending UT.”

Promising herself she was not going to fall prey to the attraction between them, Libby nodded. “Part of it was that she needed someone to take care of her by then, but the other part was that she didn’t want me doing anything the least bit reckless.”

“Which is where Percy came in,” Holden guessed.

Libby made a face. In retrospect she could hardly believe her recklessness. “After Aunt Ida passed, that was all I wanted to do. Percy took me skydiving and hiking and taught me how to water-ski.” More than anything, the diversion had helped her survive her mourning.

Holden moved closer, holding her gaze in an increasingly intimate way. “You don’t do any of that stuff anymore.”

Hanging on to her composure by a thread, she rubbed a nick on the counter with her fingertip. “I guess I had more of my aunt in me than I realized because I never really liked it.”

Any more than I like selling tractors and ranch equipment now.

“But … at the same time—” Libby lifted her chin, drew a deep breath “—I had something to prove. Once that was accomplished, my total freedom to finally do as I pleased verified that I actually wanted a more sedate lifestyle.” She flashed him a rueful smile, aware that what had comforted her had eventually ended up nearly doing him in. “Which was where you entered the picture….”

“I went back to doing those things with Percy when you stopped.”

“And—contrary to what you might have thought—I really was appreciative.”

“That I took your place?”

“I knew Percy wasn’t going to stop indulging in physically challenging activities. He was too much of a daredevil for that. I was glad he had someone trustworthy and levelheaded to go with him.”

Holden’s expression radiated guilt, and silence fell between them.

Compassion for his plight forced her to go on. “So you see, Holden,” Libby continued gently, “you have already done more than enough for both Percy and for me. You really don’t have to squire me around, the way you did tonight.”

“Suppose I want to,” Holden said. “What then?”

She blinked. “Why would you want to do that?” she demanded.

Merriment turned up the corners of his lips. “Because it occurs to me now that I need a rebound woman as much as you need a rebound man.”

HER HEARTBEAT KICKING UP a notch, Libby studied him. “You’re serious.”

Holden lounged against the counter opposite her, his arms folded against his chest. He stared at her with a steely resolve that matched her own. “Think about it. I’ll always view you as Percy’s wife.”

Trying not to think what his steady appraisal and deep voice did to her, Libby appraised him right back. “And I’ll always regard you as his best friend.”

Cynicism twisted a corner of his mouth. “So there’s no chance either of us will take a dating arrangement to heart.”

Libby began to see where he was going with this. His proposal could be the solution to both their problems, as well as a bridge to the future. “It’ll just be part of the process we both need to go through to get back out there.”

“Right,” he said casually. “Kind of like riding a bike …”

Stubbornly, she kept her eyes locked with his, even as her heart raced like a wild thing in her chest. “We’re going to need ground rules,” she warned.

He accepted her condition with a matter-of-fact nod. “The more specific, the better.”

“How long should we do this?”

He shrugged, considering. “Through New Year’s?”

Libby drummed her fingers on the countertop. “That would get us all the way through the holidays.”

His big body began to relax. “It’s always good not to be alone this time of year.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. “Invites too much pity. Which—” she leaned in close “—is something I think we can agree neither of us needs.”

A companionable silence fell between them. Searching for other pitfalls, Libby said, “What about our friends and your family?”

Holden grimaced, suddenly looking like a knight charged with protecting his queen. “I don’t see any need to make a big announcement. They’ll figure it out. Eventually.”

She appreciated his desire to shield her from hurt. And while she didn’t need his chivalry, in this one instance she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to accept it. “That would lessen the pressure.”

“And perhaps the scrutiny, as well.”

He was right in that respect. There was nothing worse than having everyone tracking the progress of a new romance, and then broadcasting the “latest developments” to everyone they knew.

“What about sex?” Libby pressed, perfectly willing to keep their process of renewal private. “Because if you’re expecting to go to bed with me as part of our bargain …”

Holden winced, as if he found the whole idea painful and awkward. “I don’t think we need to make it a condition of the relationship,” he interjected swiftly.

Libby breathed a sigh of relief.

“On the other hand …” he continued with a wicked smile. He was ready for whatever came.

Was she?

Hit with a sudden case of nerves, Libby cleared her throat. “I’m not sure I …” She stopped, unable to go on. There were shortcomings she did not wish to discuss. Her ability to hold a man’s attention in the bedroom topped the list.

Holden frowned, all protective male again. “Then don’t worry about it,” he said, his gaze sincere. “We’re only going to be together for six weeks. Then we’ll be moving on. Frankly, it might be better for our friendship if we didn’t consummate the dating thing.”

Libby relaxed again. “Thank you.”

Not that she was surprised. Holden McCabe was always a true gentleman.

“IS IT TRUE?” Several LRE employees confronted Libby the next morning the minute she walked in the front door. “Are you really planning to sell Lowell Ranch Equipment?”

Lucia Gordon, the dealership receptionist, wrung her hands. “We figured you were just talking to Jeff Johnston to price him out of the market and get him to stop calling you.”

“Today, I’ve already had requests from him to fax all the financials over to him at the Laramie Inn, ASAP,” Vince Hunt reported.

Libby directed the group into her private office, where everyone stood shoulder to shoulder. She put down her purse and coffee mug. “He should not have asked you that. He should have come through me for any further information he needed.”

“Percy left the dealership to you because you’re the last of the Lowells and he expected you to take care of it,” Manny Pierce reminded her. “Not end three generations of Lowell family tradition and cash in.” The senior mechanic frowned. “We’re really disappointed in you, Libby.”

“As well as worried about our jobs,” Swifty Mortimer added.

Libby worked her coat off and slung it over the back of her desk chair. “No one is going to lose their employment over this. That I can promise you.”

Skeptical glances abounded. Clearly disgruntled, everyone filtered out.

The rest of the workday went just as badly.

Near 4:00 p.m., Libby walked over to the warehouse to do the end of November inventory.

She had just climbed into the cab of a deluxe combine harvester to compare the serial number and price with the information they had in their computer system when Holden McCabe walked into the building.

How was it, she wondered, that he knew intuitively just when to show up to save the day or lighten her mood? Despite her decision not to rely on him emotionally in any way, her heart gave a little leap.

Oblivious to the hopelessly dependent nature of her thoughts, Holden lifted one brawny arm in acknowledgment. He strode confidently toward her.

Her heart took another little leap of anticipation as he neared.

Appearing concerned, he climbed into the enclosed cab beside her and shut the door.

His shoulder and hip brushed hers as he settled onto the bench seat. “What’s going on?” he asked her as he shot her another concerned look.

Trying not to notice how much space his tall, muscular frame took up, Libby swallowed. She hadn’t wanted to cry on his shoulder this much since the night he had brought her home from the emergency room.

She drew another breath as her pulse picked up a notch and a guilty flush heated her face. “Pretty much what you’d expect, under the circumstances. All the employees are mad at me. They think I’ll be betraying the Lowells if I sell.”

He studied her empathetically. “Sometimes you have to forget pleasing everyone else and make yourself happy.” He shrugged and briefly squeezed her forearm. “I’m thinking this is one of those times.”

Libby released a tremulous breath and raked a hand through her hair. “You really do understand.” And she needed that. Even though she was convinced she was doing the right thing, this situation left her feeling more vulnerable than she had expected.

With a cajoling smile, and another pat on her arm, Holden predicted, “And everyone else will understand, too, given a little time. In the meantime—” he released her and sat back “—I’ve got some more bad news—if you think you can handle it.”

Aware how her arm was tingling from that brief, comforting touch, Libby turned her attention to the rotary thresher attached to the front of the machine. She took a second to brace herself for the second onslaught of the day. “Go ahead,” she instructed wearily.

He rested a powerful forearm on the hydraulic steering wheel. “The library has been closed indefinitely. Apparently, what Rowdy found beneath the subflooring was asbestos that had been used for electrical insulation and soundproofing.”

Libby winced. “That sounds dangerous.”

He nodded. “It can be a real health hazard if it starts to deteriorate, and this stuff looked pretty old.” Cheering slightly, he added, “The good news is all the AC filters and surfaces in the library building tested clean of any microscopic fibers that could be inhaled, so no one’s been in danger thus far. But it’s going to have to come out.”

She sighed wearily as she waited for him to continue.

He met her level gaze. “And it’s going to be a very expensive proposition. The initial estimate from the hazardous-material experts is a quarter of a million, and the county doesn’t have it in the budget.”

Libby’s heart sank as she contemplated the loss. “So what are they going to do?”

“Try and find the money somewhere, but the earliest that will happen is January.”

She clapped a hand over her heart. “And in the meantime?”

“The county is arranging for Laramie residents to have privileges in neighboring county library systems.”

“But those are thirty-five miles away, minimum!” Libby declared in dismay.

Holden exhaled, looking disappointed, as well. “It’s the best the county can do.”

She turned toward him urgently, her knee bumping his thigh in the process. “There has to be a better solution!” she protested hotly.

The corners of his lips curved upward. “Miss Mim and Miss Rosa are collecting suggestions as we speak.” His glance sifted slowly over Libby’s face, lingering on the flush in the cheeks and her lush bare lips, before returning to her eyes. “In the meantime, I was thinking. It is Saturday … so how about tonight for our first official date?”

HOLDEN WAS SURPRISED but pleased that Libby assented right away. “The distraction might be just what I need….”

He’d half feared she would get cold feet about the whole arrangement and try to beg off, but she hadn’t, so they agreed to meet at her house at seven-thirty.

Leaving her to finish the inventory, Holden went home to the Bar M ranch to take care of his horses, shower and change. Figuring there would be less pressure on them if they had dinner and saw a movie, he printed out the listings for the theater in town and the multiplex in San Angelo, then headed back to Libby’s place.

He stared at the vehicles lining her driveway and clogging the parking lot of the now-closed dealership across the road.

Her home, he soon found out, was just as congested.

Twenty-five or so women were crowded into the spacious living room. Miss Mim and Miss Rosa were holding court.

The topic? The library, of course.

“The problem is,” Rosa was saying as Holden took off his coat and joined the group, “there’s no available building in Laramie where three floors of books could be housed temporarily.”

“I have an idea,” Libby said. “It’s a little unusual, but …”

All eyes turned to her.

“What if we divided the books up into sections, much the way they are now, and looked for host homes in town to function as mini-libraries? We could put the information online and still have a help desk in the LRE showroom. Hours could be limited. Say two hours, three times a week, max, for each farmed-out section of the library. That way, the books would still be available to local residents, and they wouldn’t have to travel to a neighboring county.”

“What an amazing idea!” Miss Mim said.

Holden thought so, too.

The room erupted in applause.

More excited talk ensued.

Holden’s sister, Emily, appeared at his side. “Libby is quite the heroine, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” he murmured, “she is.”

Not that this was a surprise. It didn’t matter what the problem was. Whether it be a personal or civic matter, Libby was always first in line to help. The first to start or lead a crusade. Everyone in Laramie knew that, which was why the library volunteers and personnel had convened here tonight. Because they had known that when presented with a particularly thorny problem, Libby Lowell would know just what to do.

Holden couldn’t help but admire Libby as she confidently held court. She wasn’t just gorgeous as all get-out. She was smart and kind, and could think outside the box.

In fact, he had never met a more fascinating woman in his life. And if she hadn’t started out as his best friend’s girl, he might have pursued her himself.

His sister broke through his reverie. “And if I didn’t know better—” Emily smiled and playfully punched Holden’s arm “—I’d think you had a thing for her.”

“WHAT WERE YOU AND EMILY talking about?” Libby asked, after everyone had left.

She thinks I am falling for you. Which is ridiculous, since at the end of the day I’ll still see you as the woman who was once married to my best friend.

Pretty sure Libby was not ready to hear any of that, Holden shrugged indolently and cut to the chase. “Like everyone else I know, my sister wants me to get out there and start dating again.”

Libby kept her eyes on his a disconcertingly long time, then lifted her chin and regarded him suspiciously. “Did you tell her about us?”

Holden tried not to notice how much trouble she had gone to for their “first date.” She had put on a ruffled Western blouse, formfitting brown cords and lace-up tan boots. Her hair had been swept up into a loose, sexy knot on the back of her head, her lips softly glossed. She smelled of her trademark cinnamon-and-spice perfume. He forced himself to sound as casual as they’d agreed they would be.

“I figured we would actually go out first.” See how it went. “Speaking of which …”

“I know.” The enticing curves of her breasts pushed against the fabric of her blouse as she inhaled. “I’m sorry.” Her tiny reindeer earrings jangled as she tilted her head slightly to one side. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, but when Miss Mim and Rosa called, wanting to brainstorm and bring along a few others, I couldn’t say no.”

Holden’s glance fell to the delicate hollow of Libby’s throat before returning to her eyes. “I understand.”

She raked her teeth over her luscious lower lip. “I didn’t expect it to go on so long.”

Aware he was beginning to get aroused—also not part of their bargain—he glanced at his watch. “It’s only nine-thirty. We could still do something.” Anything to kill the desire building within him.

“Like what?” Libby moved around the room, picking up a few stray glasses and plates. “The late movies have already started.”

She hurried past him, her long, sexy strides adding fuel to the fire already burning deep inside him.

“And most of the restaurants are already closing down. Not that I’m hungry—” Libby chattered on, setting the items in the sink “—since everyone who came over brought some sort of food.”

Holden caught up with her and put the things he had gathered down, too.

Aware she looked increasingly tense and worried—as if afraid to be alone with him—he put his hands on her shoulders. “Relax.”

She tensed even more at his touch. “Sorry.” Swallowing, she forced a nervous smile, stepped back.

This would not do.

Holden shook his head in mute rebuke. Using humor to ease the sudden stress, he winked. “You’re as skittish as a cat who just had her tail caught beneath a rocking chair.”

The comparison worked to quell her nerves. “Funny.” Libby returned his droll look with one of her own.

“Seriously.” Holden stepped back and suggested smoothly, “We could go out and get a beer. Listen to music at the dance hall.”

Libby lifted an elegant brow. “And no doubt run into your mom—because she owns the place?”

He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “You’re right,” he admitted. “That would be a little claustrophobic for a first date. Even a very casual one.”

Libby sighed and held up a hand in surrender. “Maybe we should just call it a night,” she said apologetically. “Try again—I don’t know—sometime next week.”

Holden knew a woman about to back out on him when he saw one. He caught up with her in the hall and kept pace. “What’s wrong with tomorrow?”

Libby frowned at the sight of a dirty glass she had missed. She picked it up and held it in front of her like a shield. “I’m going to be at the library to help remove the uncontaminated books that are coming to my home. After that, I’ll be busy setting up temporary stacks in my living room.”

“I can help with that,” Holden volunteered.

She shook her head. “You don’t have to.”

He studied her, knowing they could not leave it like this and expect things to get any better between them. “I want to,” he insisted quietly.

Libby seemed completely at a loss as to what to say or do next. Which in turn made Holden take a step closer, and ask, “Are you trying to get rid of me?” He scanned her head to toe, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Because you suddenly seem very nervous.” And he wanted to know why … so it wouldn’t happen again.

“I’m just wired,” she said evasively, setting the lone glass on the foyer console rather than carry it all the way back to the kitchen. She jammed her hands on her hips. “It’s been a long day. A lot has happened.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Holden studied her some more. “Sure it’s not something else?” he prodded.

She widened her pretty eyes, all innocence. “Like what?” she asked with Texas belle sweetness.

And if there was one thing Libby was not, it was a coquette.

Holden stepped even closer. “Like the kiss … that almost happened. That is still on both our minds every time we are alone.”

Color swept into Libby’s cheeks. “So what if it is?” she taunted defiantly. “I’m sure we’ll get rid of the notion sooner rather than later.”

Holden grinned, the man in him rising to the womanly challenge in her. “I prefer sooner,” he murmured.

Libby scoffed and tossed her head. “Well, so would I! But … there’s no way to do that.”

“Sure there is,” Holden told her confidently. “I’ll show you.”

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