“Do you still love him?”

She was pole-axed. “What?”

Noah was in front of her in three steps. “Your fiancé … do you still love him?”

“He’s dead,” she whispered.

“I know. But that wasn’t the question.” He reached for her, slid one arm around her waist and drew her against him. “The thing is,” he said, holding her firm. “If you still love him … I’ll do my best to stop … to stop wanting you.” His other hand cupped her cheek, gently, carefully. “But if you don’t love him, then I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Her insides contracted. “No,” she said on a breath.

“No?”

“I don’t love him.”

His green eyes darkened as he traced his thumb along her jaw. “Good,” he said softly.

And then he kissed her.

Dear Reader,

I have always been a sucker for old romantic movies and corny love songs. It seemed an obvious choice then, when I decided to be a writer at the age of seven, that I would write romance. Of course, back then it was about love between a girl and her horse, but I was on the right track.

Horses have always been a big part of my life and several years ago I married a single dad, and because both those themes are a big part of this story I’m delighted that Made for Marriage is my first book published with Mills & Boon® Cherish™. I hope you enjoy Noah and Callie’s journey and invite you to return to Crystal Point very soon.

I would love to hear from readers and can be reached via my website at www.helenlacey.com.

Warmest wishes,

Helen Lacey

About the Author

HELEN LACEY grew up reading Black Beauty, Anne of Green Gables and Little House on the Prairie. These childhood classics inspired her to write her first book when she was seven years old, a story about a girl and her horse. She continued to write with the dream of one day being a published author and writing for Cherish is the realisation of that dream. She loves creating stories about strong heroes with a soft heart and heroines who get their happily ever after. For more about Helen visit her website at www.helenlacey.com.

Made for
Marriage

Helen Lacey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For Robert

Emphatically, Undeniably, Categorically.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To the Babes

Louise Cusack, Lesley Millar, Laura O’Connell,

CC Coburn & the amazing Helen Bianchin.

Thank you for your endless support.

To my editor Susan Litman and my agent Scott Eagan

who both trusted in my storytelling.

And to Valerie Susan Hayward—for showing me

how it’s done.

Chapter One

Callie Jones knew trouble when she came upon it. And the thirteen-year-old who stood defiantly in front of her looked like more trouble than she wanted on a Saturday morning. For one thing, Callie liked to sleep later on the weekend, and the teenager with the impudent expression had banged on her door at an indecently early 6:00 a.m. And for another, the girl wasn’t anything like she’d expected. Her long black hair was tied up in an untidy ponytail revealing at least half a dozen piercings in her ears, plus another in both her brow and nose. And the dark kohl smudged around her eyes was heavier than any acceptable trend Callie had ever seen.

“I’m Lily,” the girl said, crossing her thin arms. “I’m here for my lesson.”

Callie opened the front door fractionally, grateful she’d had the sense to wrap herself in an old dressing gown before she’d come to the door. It was chilly outside. “You’re early,” she said, spotting a bicycle at the bottom of the steps.

The teenager shrugged her shoulders. “So what? I’m here now.”

Callie hung on to her patience. “I told your father eight o’clock.”

Lily shrugged again, without any apology in her expression. “Then I guess he told me the wrong time.” The girl looked her over, and Callie felt the burning scrutiny right down to her toes.

Callie took a deep breath and glanced over the girl’s head. Dawn was just breaking on the horizon. Another hour of sleep would have been nice, but she wasn’t about to send Lily home.

“Okay, Lily. Give me a few minutes to get ready.” Callie pointed to the wicker love seat on the porch. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

The girl shrugged. “Whatever.”

Callie locked the security mesh screen as discreetly as she could and turned quickly on her heels. She didn’t want an unsupervised teenager wandering around her house while she changed her clothes. Dashing into the bathroom, she washed her face and brushed her teeth and hair before slipping into jeans and a T-shirt.

She skipped coffee, grabbed a cereal bar and shoved it into her back pocket. She really needed to do some grocery shopping. But she was too busy. Busy with her students, busy trying to ensure the utilities were paid, busy not thinking about why a recently turned thirty ex-California girl worked twelve-hour days trying to make a success of a small horse-riding school situated a few miles from the eastern edge of the Australian coastline.

Callie grabbed her sweater from the back of the kitchen chair and headed for the front door. Once she’d locked up she pulled her muddy riding boots off the shoe rack, quickly tucked her feet into them, snatched up her battered cowboy hat and placed it on her head. She turned around to find no sign of her visitor. Or the expensive-looking bicycle.

Obviously the teenager wasn’t keen on following instructions.

She put the keys into her pocket and headed for the stables. The large stable complex, round yard and dressage arena were impressive. Callie had spent nearly every penny she had on Sandhills Farm to ensure it became a workable and viable business.

Okay kid—where are you?

Tessa rushed from around the back of the house. Still a pup, the Labrador/cattle dog cross bounded on lanky legs and yapped excitedly. Obviously no kid was back there, or Tessa would have hung around for attention.

So, where was she? Callie’s intuition and instincts surged into overdrive. Miss Too-Many-Piercings was clearly looking for trouble. She called the girl’s name. No answer.

When Callie opened the stable doors and flicked the lock mechanism into place, a few long heads immediately poked over the stalls. She looked around and found no sign of Lily.

Great—the kid had gone AWOL.

And where on earth was Joe, her farmhand? She checked her watch. Six-twenty-five. He was late and she’d have to attend to the feeding before she could start the lesson with her missing student.

First things first—find Lily … um … whatever-her-last-name-is. She clicked her fingers together. Hah—Preston. That’s right. Lily Preston.

She’s got the father with the sexy telephone voice, remember?

Callie shook some sense into her silly head when she heard a vehicle coming down the driveway. Joe … good. She swiveled on her heel and circumnavigated the stables, stopping abruptly, mid-stride, too stunned to move.

Indiana—her beautiful, precious and irreplaceable Hanoverian gelding—stood by the fence, wearing only an ill-fitting bridle. Lily Preston was straddled between the fence post and trough as she attempted to climb onto his back.

Think … and think quickly.

Callie willed her legs to move and raced toward the girl and horse, but it was too late. The teenager had mounted, collected the reins and clicked the gelding into a trot Callie knew she would have no hope of sustaining.

She’s going to fall. And before Callie had a chance to move, Lily Preston lost control, tumbled off the horse and landed squarely on her behind.

She was gone. Ditto for her bike. Noah Preston cursed and headed back into the house. The last thing he’d told his angry daughter the night before, just as she’d slammed her bedroom door in his face, was that he’d take her to Sandhills Farm at seven-forty-five in the morning. She hadn’t wanted him to take her. She wanted to go alone. Without him. He should have taken more notice. The time was now six-thirty-three and Lily had skipped. In typical Lily style.

“Daddy, I’m hungry.”

Noah turned his head. His eight-year-old son, Jamie, as uncomplicated and placid a child as Lily was not, stood in the doorway.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll make breakfast soon. But we have to go find Lily first.”

Jamie rolled his big eyes. “Again?”

Noah smiled. “I know, mate, but I have to make sure she’s safe.”

“She is,” Jamie assured him in a very grown-up fashion. “She’s gone to see the horse lady.”

“She told you that?”

His son nodded. “Yep. Told me this morning. She rode her bike. I told her not to.”

The horse lady? Callie Jones. Recommended as the best equestrian instructor in the district. He’d called her a week ago, inquiring about setting Lily up with some lessons. Her soft, American accent had intrigued him and he’d quickly made arrangements to bring Lily out to her riding school.

So, at least he knew where she’d gone and why. To make a point. To show him he had no control, no say, and that she could do whatever she pleased.

Noah spent the following minutes waking the twins and making sure the three kids were clothed, washed and ready to leave. Jamie grumbled a bit about being hungry, so Noah grabbed a few apples and a box of cereal bars for the trip. He found his keys, led his family outside, bundled the children into his dual-cab utility vehicle and buckled them up.

He lived just out from Crystal Point and the trip took barely ten minutes. Sandhills Farm was set back from the road and gravel crunched beneath the wheels when he turned off down the long driveway. He followed the line of whitewashed fencing until he reached the house, a rundown, big, typical Queenslander with a wraparound veranda and hat-box roof. Shabby but redeemable.

So where was Lily?

He put Jamie in charge of four-year-old Hayley and Matthew, took the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the vehicle. A dog came bounding toward him, a happy-looking pup that promptly dropped to Noah’s feet and pleaded for attention. Noah patted the dog for a moment, flipped off his sunglasses and looked around. The house looked deserted. An old Ford truck lay idle near the stables and he headed for it. The keys hanging in the ignition suggested someone was around. He spotted Lily’s bicycle propped against the wall of the stable. So she was here.

But where? And where was Callie Jones? He couldn’t see a sign of anyone in the yards or the stables or in the covered sand arena to the left of the building. The stable doors were open and he took a few steps inside, instantly impressed by the setup. A couple of horses tipped their heads over the top of their stalls and watched him as he made his way through. He found the tack room and small office at the end of the row of stalls. The door was ajar and he tapped on the jamb. No one answered. But he could see inside. There were pictures on the wall—all of horses in varying competitive poses. The rider in each shot was female. Perhaps Callie Jones?

Noah lingered for another few seconds before he returned outside. The friendly dog bounded to his feet again, demanding notice. The animal stayed for just a moment before darting past him and heading off around the side of the building. Noah instructed the kids to get out of the truck and told them to follow him. As he walked with the three children in a straight line behind him, he heard the sound of voices that got louder with every step. When he turned another corner he stopped. The breath kicked from his chest.

A woman stood by the fence.

Was this Callie Jones? Not too tall, not too thin. Curves every place a woman ought to have them. Her jeans, riding low, looked molded onto her hips and legs. Long brown hair hung down her back in a ponytail and his fingers itched with the thought of threading them through it. Noah’s heart suddenly knocked against his ribs. Lightning, he thought. Is this what it feels like to be struck by lightning?

Noah probably would have taken a little more time to observe her if he hadn’t spotted his daughter sitting on the ground, her clothes covered in dust and a big brown horse looming over her.

* * *

“What’s going on here?”

Callie jumped and turned around on her heels.

A man glared at her from about twenty feet away.

“Hey, Dad,” called Lily.

Uh-oh. The father? He looked very unhappy. Callie switched her attention back to the girl sitting on the ground. She was sure Lily’s butt would be sore for a day or so. And she was thankful Indiana had stopped once he’d realized his inexperienced rider was in trouble. Which meant all that had really happened was Lily had slipped off the side. It wasn’t a serious fall. And she intended to tell him so.

Callie wiped her hands down her jeans. “Hi, I’m—”

“Lily,” he barked out, interrupting her and bridging the space between them with a few strides. “What happened?”

She made a face. “I fell off.”

“She’s okay,” Callie said quickly.

“I think I’ll decide that for myself,” he said and helped his daughter to her feet.

Lily dusted off her clothes and crossed her thin arms. “I’m fine, Dad.”

Indiana moved toward Callie and nuzzled her elbow. “Good boy,” she said softly, patting his nose.

“You’re rewarding him for throwing my daughter?”

Heat prickled up her spine. “He didn’t throw her.”

Silence stretched like elastic between them as he looked at her with the greenest eyes Callie had ever seen. It took precisely two seconds to register he was attractive. It didn’t matter that he scowled at her. She still had enough of a pulse to recognize an absolutely gorgeous man when faced with one. If she were looking. Which she wasn’t.

Then she saw children behind him. A lot of children. Three. All blond.

A familiar pain pierced behind her rib cage.

“Lily, take the kids and go and wait by the truck.”

“But, Dad—”

“Go,” he instructed.

Callie clutched Indiana’s reins tightly. Gorgeous, maybe. Friendly, not one bit.

His daughter went to say something else but stopped. She shrugged her shoulders and told the smaller children to follow her. Once Lily and the children were out of sight the man turned to her. “What exactly do you think you were doing?”

“I was—”

“My daughter gets thrown off a horse and you just left her lying in the dirt. What if she’d been seriously injured?”

Callie held her ground. She’d handled parents before. “She wasn’t, though.”

“Did you even check? I’ll see your license revoked,” he said. “You’re not fit to work with children.”

That got her mouth moving. “Just wait one minute,” she said, planting her hands on her hips for dramatic effect. “You don’t have the right—”

“I do,” he said quickly. “What kind of nut are you?”

Callie’s face burned. “I’m not a—”

“Of all the irresponsible things I’ve—”

“Would you stop interrupting me,” she said, cutting him off right back. It did the trick because he clammed up instantly. He really was remarkably handsome. Callie took a deep breath. “Your daughter took my horse without permission.”

“So this is Lily’s fault?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He stepped closer and Callie was suddenly struck by how tall he was and how broad his shoulders were. “Then it’s your fault?” He raised his hands. “Your property, your horse … it’s not hard to figure out who’s to blame.”

“She took the horse without my permission,” Callie said again, firmer this time, making a point and refusing to be verbally outmaneuvered by a gorgeous man with a sexy voice.

His green eyes glittered. “So she was wandering around unsupervised, Ms. Jones?”

Annoyance weaved up her spine. Ms. Jones? Nothing friendly about that.

She took a deep breath and willed herself to keep her cool. “I understand how this looks and how you must feel, but I think—”

“Are you a parent?” he asked quickly.

“No.”

“Then you don’t know how I feel.”

He was right—she didn’t have a clue. She wasn’t a parent. She’d never be a parent. Silence stretched. She looked at him. He looked at her. Something flickered between them. An undercurrent. Not of anger—this was something else.

He’s looking at me. He’s angry. He’s downright furious. But he’s checking me out.

Callie couldn’t remember the last time she’d registered that kind of look. Or the last time she’d wanted to look back. But she knew she shouldn’t. He had children. He was obviously married. She glanced at his left hand. No wedding ring. Her belly dipped nonsensically.

His eyes narrowed. “Have you any qualifications?”

She stared at him. “I have an instructor’s ticket from the Equestrian Federation of—”

“I meant qualifications to work with kids?” he said, cutting off her ramble. “Like teaching credentials? Or a degree in child psychology? Come to think of it, do you have any qualifications other than the fact you can ride a horse?”

Outraged, Callie opened her mouth to speak but quickly stopped. She was suddenly tongue-tied, stripped of her usual ability to speak her mind. Her cheeks flamed and thankfully her silence didn’t last long. “Are you always so … so rude?”

He smiled as though he found her anger amusing. “And do you always allow your students to walk around unsupervised?”

“No,” she replied, burning up. “But you’re not in possession of all the facts.”

He watched her for a moment, every gorgeous inch of him focused on her, and she experienced a strange dip in the pit of her stomach, like she was riding a roller coaster way too fast.

“Then please … enlighten me,” he said quietly.

Callie bit her temper back. “When Lily arrived early I told her to wait for me. She didn’t.”

“And that’s when she took your horse?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell her to get off?”

“I did,” Callie replied. “Although I’ve discovered that sometimes its better practice to let people find out just how—”

“You mean the hard way?” he asked, cutting her off again.

Callie nodded. “But she wasn’t in any danger. Indiana wouldn’t have hurt her.”

“Just for the record,” he said quietly—so quietly Callie knew he was holding himself in control—”Lily knows all about hard life lessons.”

She’s not the only one.

Good sense thankfully prevailed and she kept her cool. “I’m sorry you had a reason to be concerned about her safety,” she said quietly. “I had no idea she would do something like that.”

“Did it occur to you to call me?” he asked. “I did leave you my cell number when I first phoned you. Lily arrived two hours early—didn’t that set off some kind of alarm bell?”

“She said you’d told her the wrong time.”

“Does that seem likely? This arrangement won’t work out,” he said before she could respond. “I’ll find another instructor for Lily—one who can act responsibly.”

His words stung. But Callie had no illusions about Lily Preston. The girl was trouble. And she certainly didn’t want to have anything more to do with the man in front of her. Despite the fact her dormant libido had suddenly resurfaced and seemed to be singing, pick me, pick me!

She wanted to challenge him there and then to who was the responsible one—her for taking her eyes off Lily for a matter of minutes or him for clearly having little control over his daughter. But she didn’t. Think about the business. Think about the horses. The last run-in she had with a parent had cost her nearly a quarter of her students and she was still struggling to recoup her losses. Three months earlier Callie had caught two students breaking the rules and had quickly cancelled all lessons with the troublesome sisters. But the girls’ mother had other ideas, and she’d threatened to lodge a formal complaint with the Equestrian Federation. It could have led to the suspension of her instructor’s license. Of course Callie could still teach without it, but her credentials were important to her. And she didn’t want that kind of trouble again.

“That’s your decision.”

He didn’t say another word. He just turned on his heels and walked away.

Callie slumped back against a fence post. Moments later she heard the rumble of an engine and didn’t take a breath until the sound of tires crunching over gravel faded into nothing.

She looked at Indiana. She’d brought the horse with her from California—just Indy and three suitcases containing her most treasured belongings. Indiana had remained quarantined for some time after her arrival. Long enough for Callie to hunt through real estate lists until she’d found the perfect place to start her riding school.

Callie loved Sandhills Farm. Indiana and the rest of her nine horses were her life … her babies. The only babies I’ll have. It made her think of that man and his four children.

A strange sensation uncurled in her chest, reminding her of an old pain—of old wishes and old regrets.

She took Indy’s reins and led him toward the stables. Once he was back in the stall Callie headed for the office. She liked to call it an office, even though it essentially served as a tack room. She’d added a desk, a filing cabinet and a modest computer setup.

Joe, her part-time farmhand, had arrived and began the feeding schedule. Callie looked at her appointment book and struck Lily Preston’s name off her daily list. There would be no Lily in her life … and no Lily’s gorgeous father.

She looked around at her ego wall and at the framed photographs she’d hung up in no particular order. Pictures from her past, pictures of herself and Indiana at some of the events they’d competed in.

But not one of Craig.

Because she didn’t want the inevitable inquisition. She didn’t talk about Craig Baxter. Or her past. She’d moved halfway across the world to start her new life. Crystal Point had been an easy choice. Her father had been born in the nearby town of Bellandale and Callie remembered the many happy holidays she’d spent there when she was young. It made her feel connected to her Australian roots to make her home in the place where he’d been raised and lived until he was a young man. And although she missed California, this was home now. And she wasn’t about to let that life be derailed by a gorgeous man with sexy green eyes. No chance.

Callie loved yard sales. Late Sunday morning, after her last student left, she snatched a few twenty dollar bills from her desk drawer and whistled Tessa to come to heel as she headed for her truck. The dog quickly leapt into the passenger seat.

The drive into Crystal Point took exactly six minutes. The small beachside community boasted a population of just eight hundred residents and sat at the mouth of the Bellan River, one of the most pristine waterways in the state. On the third Sunday of every month the small community hosted a “trunk and treasure” sale, where anyone who had something to sell could pull up their car, open the trunk and offer their wares to the dozens of potential buyers who rolled up.

The sale was in full swing and Callie parked a hundred yards up the road outside the local grocery store. She opened a window for Tessa then headed inside to grab a soda before she trawled for bargains. The bell dinged as she stepped across the threshold. The shop was small, but crammed with everything from fishing tackle to beach towels and grocery items. There was also an ATM and a pair of ancient fuel pumps outside that clearly hadn’t pumped fuel for years.

“Good morning, Callie.”

“Hi, Linda,” she greeted the fifty-something woman behind the counter, who was hidden from view by a tall glass cabinet housing fried food, pre-packaged sandwiches and cheese-slathered hot dogs.

She picked out a soda and headed for the counter.

Linda smiled. “I hear you had a run-in with Noah Preston yesterday.”

Noah? Was that his name? He’d probably told her when he’d made arrangements for his daughter’s lessons, but Callie had appalling recall for names. Noah. Warmth pooled low in her belly. I don’t have any interest in that awful man. And she wasn’t about to admit she’d spent the past twenty-four hours thinking about him.

“Good news travels fast,” she said and passed over a twenty dollar note.

Linda took the money and cranked the register. “In this place news is news. I only heard because my daughter volunteers as a guard at the surf beach.”

Callie took the bait and her change. “The surf beach?”

“Well, Cameron was there. He told her all about it.”

He did? “Who’s Cameron?”

Linda tutted as though Callie should know exactly who he was. “Cameron Jakowski. He and Noah are best friends.”

Callie couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be friends with Noah Preston.

“Cameron volunteers there, too,” she said, and Callie listened, trying to not lose track of the conversation. “Noah used to, but he’s too busy with all his kids now.”

“So this Cameron told your daughter what happened?”

“Yep. He said you and Noah had an all-out brawl. Something to do with that eldest terror of his.”

“It wasn’t exactly a brawl,” Callie explained. “More like a disagreement.”

“I heard he thinks you should be shut down,” Linda said odiously, her voice dropping an octave.

Callie’s spine stiffened. Not again. When she’d caught the Trent sisters smoking in the stables, Sonya Trent had threatened the same thing. “What?”

“Mmm,” Linda said. “And it only takes one thing to go wrong to ruin a business, believe me. One whiff of you being careless around the kids and you can kiss the place goodbye.”

Callie felt like throwing up. Her business meant everything to her. Her horses, her home. “I didn’t do anything,” she protested.

Linda made a sympathetic face. “Of course you didn’t, love. But I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you had because of that little hellion.” Linda sighed. “That girl’s been nothing but trouble since her—”

The conversation stopped abruptly when the bell pealed and a woman, dressed in a pair of jeans and a vivid orange gauze blouse, walked into the shop. Black hair curled wildly around her face and bright green eyes regarded Callie for a brief moment.

“Hello, Linda,” she said and grabbed a bottle of water from one of the fridges.

“Evie, good to see you. Are you selling at the trunk sale today?” Linda asked.

Her dancing green eyes grew wide. “For sure,” she said and paid her money. “My usual stuff. But if you hear of anyone wanting a big brass bed, let me know. I’m renovating one of the upstairs rooms and it needs to go. Catch you later.”

She hurried from the shop and Linda turned her attention back to Callie.

“That’s Evie Dunn,” Linda explained. “She runs a bed and breakfast along the waterfront. You can’t miss it. It’s the big A-frame place with the monstrous Norfolk pines out the front. She’s an artist and sells all kinds of crafting supplies, too. You should check it out.”

Callie grimaced and then smiled. “I’m not really into handicrafts.”

Linda’s silvery brows shot up. “Noah Preston is her brother.”

Of course. No wonder those green eyes had looked so familiar. Okay, maybe now she was a little interested. Callie grabbed her soda and left the shop. So, he wanted her shut down, did he?

She drove the truck in the car park and leashed Tessa. There were more than thirty cars and stalls set up, and the park was teeming with browsers and buyers. It took Callie about three minutes to find Evie Dunn. The pretty brunette had a small table laid out with craft wares and costume jewelry.

She wandered past once and then navigated around for another look.

“Are you interested in scrapbooking?” Evie Dunn asked on her third walk by.

Callie stalled and eased Tessa to heel. She took a step toward the table and shrugged. “Not particularly.”

Black brows rose sharply. “Are you interested in a big brass bed?”

Callie shook her head. “Ah, I don’t think so.”

Evie planted her hands on her hips. “Then I guess you must be interested in my brother?”

Callie almost hyperventilated. “What do you—”

“You’re Callie, right?” The other woman asked and thrust out her hand. “I saw the name of your riding school on the side of your truck. I’m Evie. Lily told me all about you. You made quite an impression on my niece, which is not an easy feat. From what she told me, I’m certain she still wants you as her riding instructor.”

There was no chance that was going to happen. “I don’t think it’s up to Lily.”

“Made you mad, did he?”

Callie took a step forward and shook her hand. “You could say that.”

Evie, whose face was an amazing mix of vivid color—green eyes and bright cherry lips—stared at her with a thoughtful expression that said she was being thoroughly summed up. “So, about the brass bed?” she asked and smiled. “Would you like to see it?”

Brass bed? Callie shook her head. Hadn’t she already said she wasn’t interested? “I don’t think—”

“You’ll love it,” Evie insisted. “I can take you to look at it now if you like. Help me pack up and we can get going.”

Callie began to protest and then stopped. She was pretty sure they weren’t really talking about a bed. This was Noah Preston’s sister. And because he had quickly become enemy number one, if she had a lick of sense she’d find out everything she could about him and use it to her advantage. If Noah thought she would simply sit back and allow him to ruin her reputation, he could certainly think again. Sandhills Farm was her life. If he wanted a war, she’d give him one.

Chapter Two

Noah didn’t know how to reach out to his angry daughter. He hurt for her. A deep, soul-wrenching hurt that transcended right through to his bones. But what could he do? Her sullen, uncommunicative moods were impossible to read. She skulked around the house with her eyes to the floor, hiding behind her makeup, saying little, determined to disassociate herself from the family he tried so frantically to keep together.

And she pined for the mother who’d abandoned her without a backward glance.

She’d deny it, of course. But Noah knew. It had been more than four years ago. Four and a half long years and they all needed to move on.

Yeah, right … like I’ve moved on?

He liked to think so. Perhaps not the way his parents or sisters thought he should have. But he’d managed to pull together the fractured pieces of the life his ex-wife discarded. He had Preston Marine, the business his grandfather created and which he now ran, his kids, his family and friends. It was enough. More than enough.

Most of the time.

Except for the past twenty-four hours.

Because as much as he tried not to, he couldn’t stop thinking about the extraordinarily beautiful Callie Jones and her glittering blue eyes. And the way she’d planted her hands on her hips. And the sinful way she’d filled out her jeans. For the first time in forever he felt a spark of attraction. More than a spark. It felt like a damned raging inferno, consuming him with its heat.

Noah stacked the dishes he’d washed and dried his hands, then checked his watch. He was due at Evie’s around two o’clock; he’d promised her he’d help shift some furniture. Evie loved rearranging furniture.

Within ten minutes they were on their way. Hayley and Matthew, secured in their booster seats, chatted happily to each other while Jamie sat in the front beside Noah. His one-hundred-and-forty acre farm was only minutes out of Crystal Point and was still considered part of the small town. He’d bought the place a couple of years earlier, for a song of a price, from an elderly couple wanting to retire after farming sugar cane for close to fifty years. The cane was all but gone now, and Noah leased the land to a local farmer who ran cattle.

He dropped speed along The Parade, the long road separating the houses from the shore, and pulled up outside his sister’s home. There was a truck parked across the road, a beat-up blue Ford that looked familiar. He hauled Hayley into his arms, grabbed Matty’s hand and allowed Jamie to seize the knapsack from the backseat and then race on ahead. The kids loved Evie’s garden, with its pond and stone paved walkways, which wound in tracks to a stone wishing well. And Noah kind of liked it, too.

“Look, Daddy … it’s that dog,” Jamie said excitedly, running toward a happy-looking pup tied to a railing near the front veranda.

The dog looked as familiar to him as the truck parked outside. His stomach did a stupid leap.

She’s here? What connection did Callie Jones have to Evie? Before he could protest, Jamie was up the steps, opening the front door and calling his aunt’s name.

Noah found them in the kitchen. Evie was cutting up pineapple and she was sitting at the long scrubbed table, cradling a mug in her hands. She looked up when he entered the room and smiled. A killer smile. A smile with enough kick to knock the breath from his chest. He wondered if she knew she had it, if she were aware how flawless her skin looked or how red and perfectly bowed her lips were. The hat was gone and her brown hair hung over one shoulder in a long braid.

Discomfort raced through him. Noah shifted Hayley on his hip and hung on tightly to Matty’s hand. She looked him over, he looked her over. Something stirred, rumbling through his blood, taunting him a little.

Evie cleared her throat and broke the silence. “Well,” she said. “How about I take the kids outside and you two can … talk?”

Noah didn’t want to talk with her. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to drag himself away.

Callie Jones had walked into his life. And he was screwed.

Callie couldn’t speak. They were twins. Twins. Who looked to be about … four years old?

The same age as Ryan would have been …

She smiled—she wasn’t sure how—and watched him hold the twins with delightful affection. He looked like Father of the Year. And he was, according to his sister. A single dad raising four children. A good man. The best.

A heavy feeling grew in her chest, filling her blood, sharpening her breath.

The children disappeared with Evie, and once they were alone she stood and flicked her braid down her back. He watched every movement, studying her with such open regard she couldn’t stop a flush from rising over her skin.

I shouldn’t want him to look at me like that.

Not this man who had quickly become the enemy.

“I didn’t expect to see you …” he said, then paused. “So soon.”

She inhaled deeply. “I guess you didn’t. Frankly, I didn’t want to see you.”

His green eyes held her captive. “And yet you’re here in my sister’s house?”

Callie tilted her chin. “I’m looking at a bed.”

The word bed quickly stirred up a whole lot of awareness between them. It was bad enough she thought the man was gorgeous—her blasted body had to keep reminding her of the fact!

“A bed?”

“Yes.” Callie took another breath. Longer this time because she needed it. “You know, one of those things to sleep on.”

That got him thinking. “I know what a bed is,” he said quietly. “And what it’s used for.”

I’ll just bet you do!

Callie turned red from her braid to her boots. “But now that I am here, perhaps you’d like to apologize?”

“For what?” He looked stunned.

For being a gorgeous jerk. “For being rude yesterday.”

“Wait just a—”

“And for telling people my school should be closed down.”

“What?”

“Are you denying it? I mean, you threatened me,” she said, and as soon as the words left her mouth she felt ridiculous.

“I did what?”

She didn’t miss the quiet, controlled tone in his voice. Maddeningly in control, she thought. Almost too controlled, as if he was purposefully holding himself together in some calm, collected way to prove he would not, and could not, be provoked.

“You said you’d see that I lost my license,” she explained herself.

He looked at her. “And because of that you think I’ve been saying your school needs to be closed down?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And who did you hear this from?”

Callie felt foolish then. Was she being paranoid listening to small-town gossip? Have I jumped to conclusions? When she didn’t reply he spoke again.

“Local tongues, no doubt. I haven’t said a word to anyone, despite my better judgment.” He cocked a brow. “Perhaps you’ve pissed off someone else.”

Retaliation burned on the end of her tongue. The infamous Callie Jones temper rose up like bile, strangling her throat. “You’re such a jerk!”

He smiled. Smiled. As if he found her incredibly amusing. Callie longed to wipe the grin from his handsome face, to slap her hand across his smooth skin. To touch. To feel. And then, without explanation, something altered inside her. Something altered between them. In an unfathomable moment, everything changed.

He sees me…

She wasn’t sure why she thought it. Why she felt it through to the blood pumping in her veins. But she experienced a strange tightening in her chest, constricting her breath, her movements. Callie didn’t want anyone to see her. Not this man. Especially not this man. This stranger.

But he did. She was sure of it. He sees that I’m a fraud. I can talk a tough line. But I live alone. I work alone. I am alone.

And Noah Preston somehow knew it.

Bells rang in her head. Warning her, telling her to leave and break the incredible eye contact that shimmered like light between them.

“You need to keep a better handle on your daughter.”

“I do?” he said, still smiling.

“She broke the rules,” Callie said pointedly. “And as her parent, that’s your fault, not mine.”

“She broke the rules because you lacked good judgment,” he replied.

Callie scowled, grabbed her keys and headed for the door. “Tell your sister thank you for the coffee.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did I hit a nerve?”

She rounded her shoulders back and turned around. “I’m well aware of my faults. I may not be all wisdom regarding the behavior of teenage girls, but I certainly know plenty about men who are arrogant bullies. You can point as much blame in my direction as you like—but that doesn’t change the facts.”

“I did hit a nerve.”

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

As she left the house and collected Tessa, Callie wasn’t sure she took a breath until she drove off down The Parade.

Noah waited until the front door clicked shut and then inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air. A jerk? Is that what he’d sounded like? He didn’t like that one bit. A protective father, yes. But a jerk? He felt like chasing after her to set her straight.

Evie returned to the kitchen in record time, minus the kids. “They’re watching a DVD,” she said and refilled the kettle. Evie thought caffeine was a sure cure for anything. “So, that went well, did it?”

“Like a root canal.”

“Ouch.” She made a face. “She called you a jerk. And a bully.”

“Eavesdropping, huh?”

She shrugged. “Only a bit. So, who won that battle in this war?” she asked, smiling.

He recognized his sister’s look. “It’s not exactly a war.”

Evie raised a brow. “But you were mad at her, right?”

“Sure.” He let out an impatient breath.

“Well.” Evie stopped her task of making coffee. “You don’t usually get mad at people.”

Noah frowned. “Of course I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Evie said. “Not even your pesky three sisters.”

He shrugged. “Does this conversation have a point?”

“I was just wondering what she did to make you so … uptight?”

“I’m sure she told you what happened,” Noah said, trying to look disinterested and failing.

Evie’s eyes sparkled. “Well … yes, she did. But I want to hear it from you.”

“Why?”

“So I can see if you get the same look on your face that she did.”

“What look?” he asked stupidly.

Evie stopped what she was doing. A tiny smile curved her lips. “That look.”

He shook his head. “You’re imagining things.”

Evie chuckled. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I thought she was … nice.”

Yeah, like a stick of dynamite. “You like everyone.”

Evie laughed out loud. “Ha—you’re not fooling me. You like her.”

“I don’t know her.”

Noah dismissed his sister’s suspicions. If he gave an inch, if he even slightly indicated he had thoughts of Callie Jones in any kind of romantic capacity, she’d be on the telephone to their mother and two other sisters within a heartbeat.

Romance … yeah, right. With four kids, a mortgage and a business to run—women weren’t exactly lining up to take part in his complicated life.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a date. Eight months ago, he thought, vaguely remembering a quiet spoken, divorced mother of two who’d spent the entire evening complaining about her no-good, layabout ex. One date was all they’d had. He’d barely touched her hand. I live like a monk. That wasn’t surprising, though—the fallout from his divorce would have sent any man running to the monastery.

Besides, he didn’t want a hot-tempered, irresponsible woman in his life, did he? No matter how sexy she looked in her jeans. “So, where’s this furniture you want me to move?” he asked, clapping his hands together as he stood.

Evie took the hint that the subject was closed. “One of the upstairs bedrooms,” she said. “I want to paint the walls. I just need the armoire taken out into the hall.”

“Oh, the antique cupboard that weighs a ton? Lucky me. At least this time I’m spared the stairs. Do you remember when Gordon and I first got the thing upstairs?”

Evie smiled, clearly reminiscing, thinking of the husband she’d lost ten years earlier. “And Cameron,” she said. “You were all acting like a bunch of wusses that day, huffing and puffing over one little armoire.”

Noah grunted as they took the stairs. “Damn thing’s made of lead.”

“Wuss,” she teased.

They laughed some more and spent twenty minutes shifting the heaviest piece of furniture on the planet. When he was done, Noah wanted a cold drink and a back rub.

And that idea made him think of Callie Jones and her lovely blue eyes all over again.

“Feel like staying for dinner?” Evie asked once they were back downstairs. “Trevor’s at a study group tonight,” she said of her fifteen-year-old son.

“On a Sunday? The kid’s keen.”

“The kid’s smart,” Evie corrected. “He wants to be an engineer like his favorite uncle.”

Noah smiled. “Not tonight, but thanks. I’ve gotta pick Lily up from the surf club at four. And it’s a school day tomorrow.”

Evie groaned. “God, we’re a boring lot.”

Noah wasn’t going to argue with that. He grabbed the kids’ things and rounded up the twins and Jamie. The kids hugged Evie and she waved them off from the front step.

“And don’t forget the parents are back from their trip on Wednesday,” she reminded him.

“I won’t,” he promised.

“And don’t forget I’ll need your help to move the armoire back into the bedroom in a few days. I’ll call to remind you.”

He smiled. “I won’t forget.”

“And don’t forget to think about why you’re refusing to admit that you’re hot for a certain riding instructor.”

Noah shook his head. “Goodbye, Evie.”

She was still laughing minutes later when he drove off.

Noah headed straight for the surf club. Lily was outside when he pulled up, talking to Cameron. She scowled when she saw him and quickly got into the backseat, squeezing between the twins’ booster seats. Normally, she would have resigned Jamie to the back. But not today. She was clearly still mad with him. Mad that he’d made it impossible for her to go back to Sandhills Farm, at least in her mind.

Noah got out of the pickup and turned his attention to his best friend. “So, Hot Tub, what have you been up to?”

Cameron half-punched him in the shoulder. “Would you stop calling me that?”

Noah grinned at his playboy friend and the unflattering nickname he’d coined years earlier.

“I’ll do my best.” He changed the subject. “Did Lily say anything to you about what happened yesterday?”

Cameron nodded. “You know Lily. I hear the horse lady’s real cute.”

Cute? That’s not how Noah would describe Callie. Cute was a bland word meant for puppies and little girls with pink ribbons in their hair. Beautiful better described Callie Jones, and even that didn’t seem to do her justice. Not textbook pretty, like Margaret, his ex, had been. Callie had a warm, rich kind of beauty. She looked like … the taste of a full-bodied Bordeaux. Or the scent of jasmine on a sultry summer’s evening.

Get a grip. Noah coughed. “I have to get going.”

Minutes later he was back on the road and heading home. By the time they reached the house Noah knew he wanted the truth from Lily. Callie Jones had called him a jerk. If he’d misjudged her like she said, he wanted to know. Lily tried her usual tactic of skipping straight to her bedroom, but he cut her off by the front door, just after the twins and Jamie had made it inside.

“Lily,” he said quietly. “I want to talk to you.”

She pulled her knapsack onto her shoulder and shrugged. “Don’t you mean talk at me?”

He took a deep breath. “Did you ride that horse without permission yesterday?”

She rolled her eyes. “I told you what happened.”

“Was it the truth?”

Lily shrugged. “Sort of.” Her head shot up and she stared at him with eyes outlined in dark, smudgy makeup. “Is she blaming me?”

No, she’s blaming me. And probably rightly so if the look on his daughter’s face was anything to go by. Noah knew instantly that he’d overreacted. Clearly. Stupidly.

Noah suddenly felt like he’d been slapped over the back of the head. I never overreact. So, why her? Evie’s words came back to haunt him.

You like her.

And he did. She’s beautiful, sassy and sexy as hellfire.

But that wasn’t really Callie Jones. It was an act—Noah knew it as surely as he breathed. How he knew he wasn’t sure. Instinct maybe. Something about her reached him, drew him and made him want to know her.

Lily’s eyes grew wider and suspicious. “You’ve seen her again, right?”

He wondered how she’d know that and thought it might be some fledgling female intuition kicking in. “Yes, I have.”

She huffed, a childish sound that reminded him she was just thirteen. “Is she going to give me lessons?”

“I said we’d find you another instructor.”

Lily’s expression was hollow and she flicked her black hair from her eyes. “So, she won’t?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Couldn’t you ask her?”

Good question. He could ask her. Lily wanted her. Lily never wanted anything, never asked him for anything. But she wanted Callie Jones.

“Why is it so important to you to learn from Callie? There are other instructors in town.”

She cast him a scowl. “Yeah, at the big training school in town. It’s full of rich stuck-ups with their push-button ponies.”

“How do you know that?”

She chewed at her bottom lip for a moment and then said, “From school. The Pony Girls all go there.”

Pony girls? Noah felt completely out of touch. “And?”

“The Trents,” Lily explained. “Lisa and Melanieeee. They used to go to her school. She kicked them out a couple of months ago.”

Melanie Trent. Lily’s ex-best friend. And now her nemesis. “Why?”

“They were caught smoking in the stables,” Lily supplied. “Big mistake. Anyway, I know that she lost some of her other students because of it. You know what the Trents are like. They don’t like anyone telling them what to do.”

Noah did know. Sonja Trent, the girls’ mother, had worked reception for him a year earlier. He’d given her the post as a favor when her husband was laid off from his job at the local sugar mill. Two weeks later she left when Noah had made it clear he wasn’t interested in having an affair with her. Sonja was married and unhappy—two good reasons to steer clear of any kind of involvement.

“Did you know she was some big-time rider?” Lily said, bringing Noah back to the present. “Like, I mean, really big time. Like she could have gone to the Olympics or something.”

He tried not to think about the way his heart skipped a beat. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“If she teaches me then I’ll be good at it, too. Better than Melanie. Way better. And maybe then she won’t be so stuck-up and mean to Maddy all the time.”

Maddy Spears was Lily’s new/old best friend. Friends before Melanie had arrived on the scene and broken apart because Maddy was a quiet, sweet kid and not interested in flouting her parents’ wishes by covering her face in makeup or wearing inappropriate clothes.

“I could apologize,” Lily suggested and shrugged her bony shoulders.

That would be a first. Noah nodded slowly. “You could,” he said, although he wasn’t sure it would make any difference to the situation.

“I really want Callie, Dad,” Lily said desperately.

You’re not the only one. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know, Lily….”

Noah wasn’t sure how to feel about Lily’s desperation to get lessons from Callie. Other than his sisters and mother, Lily hadn’t let another woman into her life since Margaret had walked out.

Neither have I.

Lily didn’t trust easily.

Neither do I.

“We’ll see. Go and get washed up,” he told her. “And maybe later you could help me with dinner?”

She grabbed the screen door and flung it open. “Maybe.”

Her feet had barely crossed the threshold when Noah called her name. She stopped and pivoted on her Doc Martens. “What now?”

“Whoever you have lessons from, you have to follow the rules, okay?”

Her lips curled in a shadow of a smile. “Sure thing, Dad.”

Noah watched his daughter sprint down the hall and disappear into her room with a resounding bang of the door. Okay … now what? But he knew what he had to do. He had to see Callie again. More to the point, he wanted to see her again. And he wondered if they made bigger fools than him.

Callie unhitched the tailgate and took most of the weight as it folded down. Indiana and Titan snorted restlessly, sensing the presence of other horses being unloaded and prepared for the Bellandale Horse Club show that day. Bellandale was a regional city of more than sixty thousand people and the event attracted competitors from many of the smaller surrounding townships.

Fiona Walsh, her friend and student, led both horses off the trailer, and Callie took the geldings in turn and hitched them to the side.

“I’m nervous,” Fiona admitted as she ran her hands down her ivory riding breeches.

Callie unclipped Indiana’s travel rug. “You’ll be fine. This is your first competition—just enjoy the day. You and Titan have worked hard for this.”

Fiona’s carefully secured red hair didn’t budge as she nodded enthusiastically. “Thanks for the pep talk. I’ll go and get our stalls sorted.”

Callie organized their gear once Fiona disappeared. Both horses were already groomed, braided and ready for tack, and by the time Fiona returned Callie had saddles and bridles adjusted and set. It took thirty minutes to find their allocated stalls, shovel in a layer of fresh sawdust, turn the horses into them and change into their jackets and long riding boots.

Callie’s first event was third on the agenda and once she was dressed and had her competitors number pinned to her jacket she swung into the saddle and headed for the warm-up area. The show grounds were teaming with horses and riders and more spectators than usual, which she put down to the mild October weather. She warmed Indiana up with a few laps around the ring at a slow trot and then a collected canter. She worked through her transitions and practiced simple and flying changes. When she was done she walked Indy toward the main arena and waited for her name to be called.

The dressage test was a relatively simple one, but she gave it her full concentration. This was only her third show in as many months and she wanted to perform well. Indiana, as usual, displayed the skill and proficiency in his movements that had seen him revered by followers of the show circuit when she had been competing years before.

Before it all went wrong.

Before Craig Baxter.

Handsome, charming and successful and twelve years her senior, Craig had been a gifted rider. So gifted, in fact, that Callie often overlooked his moodiness and extreme perfectionism. Because underneath the charm and success, it had always only been about the competition. About results. About being the best.

And nearly four years after his death she still hurt.

It’s better to have loved and lost …

Yeah … sure it was. Callie didn’t believe that for one minute.

Love hurts. And it was off her agenda. Permanently.

What about sex? Is that off the agenda, too?

She’d thought so. But … in the last week she had been thinking about sex. Lots of sex. And all of it with Noah Preston. The kind of sex that had somehow invaded her normally G-rated life and made her have X-rated thoughts. Well, maybe not X-rated—she was still a little too homecoming queen for that. But certainly R-rated …

The announcement of her score startled her out of her erotic thoughts. She bowed her head to acknowledge the judges and left the dressage arena. As she cornered past three other riders waiting for their turn Callie eased Indiana to a halt. Because right there, in front of her, stood the object of all her recent fantasies.

Chapter Three

Dressed in jeans, a black chambray shirt and boots Noah looked so damned sexy it literally made her gasp. He held keys in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other.

She stared at him, determined to hold his gaze. Finally, curiosity got the better of her and she clicked Indiana forward. “What do you want?”

He moved toward her and touched Indy’s neck. “Nice-looking horse.”

“Thank you,” she said stiffly, hoping he couldn’t see the color rising over her cheeks. Callie collected the reins and swung herself out of the saddle. “Did you want something?” she asked again once both feet were planted on the ground.

“I did.”

So tell me what it is and go away so I can stop thinking about how totally gorgeous you are and how much you make me think about wanting all the things I never thought I’d want again.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Your apprentice told me where to find you.”

Joe? Callie wanted to ring his neck. “So you’ve found me. And?”

“I’d like to talk to you.”

Callie tilted her chin. “What have I done now?” she asked, clutching the reins tightly so he wouldn’t notice her hands were shaking.

He half smiled and Callie’s stomach did a silly leap. “I guess I deserve that,” he said.

She moved Indiana forward. She wouldn’t fall for any lines, no matter how nicely he said them. She wouldn’t be tempted to feel again. She couldn’t. It hurt too much. “Oh, I see—today you come in peace?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“You’re a week too late,” she said stiffly and led the horse away. Callie felt him behind her as she walked—felt his eyes looking her over as he followed her past the rows of small stables until she reached their allocated stall.

Fiona came out from the adjoining stall. “Hi, Noah,” Fiona greeted with a cheek-splitting grin. Callie didn’t miss how the other woman’s hand fleetingly touched his arm.

Clearly, no introductions were required. Fiona saw her look and explained that she taught his son at the local primary school and took an art class with his sister, Evie.

“So you two know each other?” Fiona asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “We do.”

“I’d better go,” Fiona said quickly and began leading Titan from his stall. “My event is up next. Wish me luck.”

Callie watched her friend lead the big chestnut gelding away and then turned her attention to the man in front of her.

“Okay,” she said. “You can apologize now.”

He laughed and the rich, warm sound dipped her stomach like a rolling wave. Callie felt like smiling, but she wouldn’t. She wanted to be mad at him—it made her feel safe.

“I overreacted last week,” he said. “I know Lily took your horse without permission.”

Her chin came up. “Bravo. I’ll bet saying that was like chewing glass,” she said as she opened the stall and ushered Indiana inside. Then she clicked the bottom door in place. “So,” she said, “was there something else you wanted to discuss?”

“First, that you reconsider and give Lily riding lessons.”

Callie didn’t try to disguise her astonishment. “I thought you were going to find her another instructor.”

“Apparently you’re the best around.”

“Yes,” she replied, fighting the rapid thump of her heart. He was close now. Too close. “I am.”

“And I want the best for my daughter.”

“You should have thought about that before you called me an irresponsible nutcase.”

His green eyes looked her over. “Is that what I said?”

Callie unbuttoned her jacket. “Words to that effect,” she said, feeling suddenly hot and sweaty in the fine-gauge wool coat she’d had tailored to fit like a glove. She longed to strip off her hat, but the idea of him seeing the very unattractive hairnet she wore to keep her thick hair secure under the helmet stopped her.

He smiled. “Then I owe you an apology for that, as well.”

“Yes, you do. So, anything else?”

“That you give me another chance,” he said quietly. “I might be a jerk on occasion … but I’m not such a bad guy.”

She snorted and that made him smile again. God, her hormones were running riot. Did this man know how earth-shatteringly gorgeous he was? She had to pull herself together. He leaned back against the stall and Callie watched, suddenly mesmerized as the cotton shirt stretched across his chest as he moved. One step and I could touch him. One tiny step and I could place my hands over his broad shoulders.

“So, do we have an arrangement?”

His voice jerked her thoughts back. “No, we don’t.”

“Are you going to play hard to get?”

The double meaning of his words could not be denied and Callie blushed wildly. She looked at her feet, thinking that any minute she was going to plant one of her size nines into her mouth and say something she’d regret. And typically, she did exactly that.

“I’m not playing anything with you,” she said hotly. “As you pointed out so clearly last weekend, I don’t have the skills required to handle your daughter. What I do have is a business to run … a business that means everything to me. I work hard and I won’t do anything that could tarnish my reputation.”

His gaze narrowed. “And you think teaching Lily would?”

“I think …” She stopped. It wasn’t about Lily. It was about him. She only hoped he didn’t realize it. “I think … another teacher would be better for her. Someone she would actually listen to.”

“And if I promised that she would listen to you, Callie?”

She drew in a breath. It was the first time he’d said her name. It sounded personal. Intimate almost. “You can’t promise something like that.”

“She’ll do what I ask.”

Yeah … like putty in his hands. That’s how Callie felt at the moment. “Look,” she said pointedly. “All I want to do is run my school and care for my horses and try to fix up my house, which is crumbling around my ears. I just don’t want any drama.”

It sounded lame. Callie knew it. He knew it.

Something passed between them. Awareness? Recognition? A look between two people who hardly knew one another … and yet, strangely, on some primal level, had a deep connection. More than merely man to woman. More … everything. It scared the breath out of her. Thinking about him was one thing. Feeling something for him was another altogether.

“And there’s nothing I can offer you that might make you change your mind?”

Callie’s temperature rose and launched off her usual, well-controlled sensible-gauge. It was ridiculous. She couldn’t imagine everything he said to her had some kind of sexual innuendo attached to it.

“Nothing.”

“Even though you say you need the cash?”

It sounded foolish put like that. But she wasn’t going to give in. “Exactly.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“Well, you know me—all bad judgment and recklessness.” She picked up the pitch fork. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to go and watch Fiona.”

He half shrugged, looked at the pitch fork as though she might consider running him through with it, then took a small card from his pocket and passed it to her. “If you change your mind—”

“I won’t.” Callie folded the small business card between her fingers and opened the door to Indiana’s stall. She slipped inside and waited a full five minutes before emerging—and only when she was certain Noah Preston had left.

Noah usually let the kids stay up a little later on Saturday nights. But by eight-thirty the twins were falling asleep on the sofa and Jamie took himself off to bed just after Hayley and Matthew were tucked beneath the covers.

Lily, however, decided to loiter in the kitchen, flicking through cupboards as she complained about the lack of potato chips. She made do with an opened box of salted crackers.

“So,” she said as she sat. “Did you ask her?”

Noah stopped packing the dishwasher and looked at his daughter. The makeup and piercings and black clothes seemed more out of place than usual in the ordinariness of the timber kitchen. He wished she’d ditch the gothic act, but he’d learned fast that barking out ultimatums only fueled her rebelliousness.

“Yes.”

Lily looked hopeful and Noah’s heart sank. How did he tell his kid the truth? “She’s thinking about it,” he said, stretching the facts.

His daughter’s expression changed quickly. “She’s still mad at me?” Lily dropped the box of crackers and stood. “She’s the best, Dad. And learning from the best is important. It means I might get to be the best at something, too.”

She looked painfully disappointed and Noah felt every ounce of her frustration. If she’d followed Callie’s rules, it wouldn’t have been a problem.

“Lily, whoever you get lessons from, you’ll have to follow the rules.”

Lily’s dramatic brows rose. “I’m not the one who shouted at her.”

Noah stiffened. “I didn’t shout. We had a conversation.”

“Yeah, and after that she said she wouldn’t teach me.”

He had to admit his daughter had a point. If he hadn’t acted so irrationally and lost his cool with Callie, he figured Lily would have been able to stay at the school. Lily had messed up, but so had he.

“‘Night, Dad,” she said unhappily and left the room.

Noah looked at the clock. He was weary but not tired. He left the dishwasher and headed for the living room. The big sofa welcomed him as he sat and grabbed the remote.

Another long Saturday night loomed ahead. He flicked channels absently and settled for a movie he’d seen before. It didn’t hold his attention for long. He kept thinking of Callie. She was a real dynamo. All feisty and argumentative, high octane. But underneath, he saw something else … something more. He wasn’t sure how he knew—but he did. Whatever was going on with her, she wore it like a suit of armor. And he was interested in knowing what lay underneath all that fire and spirit. Hell, he was more than interested. Way more. The way she’d glared at him from beneath her hat, the way she’d filled out her riding jodhpurs … His skin burned thinking about it.

He flicked channels again, but it was no use. Television wouldn’t hold his attention tonight. More so than usual, he felt alone and … lonely. Absurd when he lived in a house filled with children. And when he considered how great his family was. He loved his kids. His parents were exceptional, and his sisters were the best he could ask for.

But right now he wanted more than that. He needed more than that.

But what?

Company? Someone to talk with?

Sex?

Perhaps it was more about sex than he was prepared to admit. Up until a week ago he’d been in a kind of sexual hibernation. But Callie had him thinking about it. And got him hard just thinking about it. And not the vague, almost indistinct inclination that usually stirred him. This was different. Way different.

Maybe I should ask her out?

That was crazy. That would be like standing in front of a bulldozer.

She can’t stand you, he reminded himself. Okay, maybe I’ll just ask her to reconsider about Lily again?

Despite his brain telling him to forget the idea, Noah picked up the telephone and dialed the number he couldn’t recall memorizing but somehow had. She answered on the fourth ring.

“Callie, it’s Noah Preston.”

Silence screeched like static. Finally she spoke. “Oh—hello.”

“Sorry to call so late.”

A pause. “That’s okay—I’m not in bed yet.”

His body tightened. He had a startling image in his head and shook himself. Maybe I will ask her out. “I was wondering if you—”

“I haven’t reconsidered,” she said, cutting him off.

“What?”

“About Lily,” she said on a soft breath.

All he could think about was that same breath against his skin. “I was actually—”

“Janelle Evans,” she said quickly, cutting him off again.

Noah paused. “What?” he asked again.

“She’s an instructor just out of town. She has a good reputation. She breeds quarter horses. I have her number if you’re interested.”

Oh, I’m interested all right. But not in Janelle Evans.

She was talking fast and Noah knew she was eager to end the call. Bulldozer, he reminded himself. “Ah—sure.”

He took the number she rattled off and had to ask her to repeat the last few digits because she spoke so quickly.

“Well—goodbye.”

He hesitated, feeling the sting of her reluctance to engage in conversation. “Yeah, okay—goodbye.”

She hung up and he dropped the telephone on the sofa. He needed a shower—as cold as he could stand. Then he’d go to bed and sleep off the idea that he wanted to make love to Callie Jones more than he’d wanted to do anything for a long time.

* * *

On Sunday morning Callie woke at seven, after spending a restless night fighting with the bedsheets.

It was all Noah Preston’s fault. She didn’t ask for his late-night call. She didn’t want to hear his sexy voice just before she went to bed. She didn’t want to spend the night thinking about him.

She dressed and made short work of a bowl of cereal topped with fruit, then grabbed her hat and headed outside. The sun was up, already warming the early October morning air. She fed Tessa then headed for the stables, where Joe waited outside Indiana’s stall.

“Are you taking the big fella out this morning?”

Callie shook her head. “Not today.” Indy’s long head swung over the top of the door and she ran her hands down his face. “‘Morning, my darling boy.” She turned back to Joe. “He did well yesterday, two firsts and a third, so he gets a day off. Give him a feed, will you, and then tack up Kirra. The English saddle please.”

Joe made a face. “What do I tell the kid?”

Callie frowned. “What kid?”

“The one who’s here for a lesson.”

Callie shook her head. “I don’t have anyone booked until eleven.”

“I know,” Joe said. “I checked the booking sheet. But she’s here.” Joe pointed to the office. “I put her in there,” he said, then more seriously, “and told her not to touch anything.”

Callie strode the twenty meters to the office and swung the half-opened door back on its hinges. She stood in the threshold and looked at the young girl sitting at her desk.

“What are you doing here?”

Lily Preston swiveled in the chair and got to her feet. “Um … I’m here for my lesson.”

Callie inhaled deeply. “You’re not having a lesson.”

“But I thought—”

Callie placed her hands on her hips. “You have to go home, Lily.” She turned on her heels and went to walk away but stopped when the teenager spoke.

“Please.”

She turned back and looked at the teenager, whose green eyes were wide open, their expression sincere. Lily was sorry. Callie could feel it. Something tugged at her heartstrings.

Callie took a deep breath. “Indiana is my horse, Lily. And as quiet as he is, you could have been badly hurt. And I would have been responsible.”

Lily’s chin lifted, half defiant. “But I can ride a bit.”

“A bit isn’t good enough for a horse like Indiana, especially in an ill-fitting bridle and without a saddle.”

Lily looked shame-faced beneath her makeup. “I really didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” she said. “I just … sometimes I just do things. I don’t know why. I do things I know are stupid, but I can’t help myself.”

The tug on Callie’s heart grew stronger. She knew exactly what Lily meant. Kindred spirits, she thought. But, oh, God … what should she do? Say yes to this girl who looked at her with such raw intensity. A girl, she suspected, who rarely showed that side of herself to anyone. But a girl whose father she couldn’t stop thinking about. Who, without even trying, was making Callie feel, imagine.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Lily said quickly, almost desperately. “Please teach me.”

Before Callie could reply Joe stuck his head around the door to tell her Kirra was ready. She thanked him, then returned her attention to the teenager. “I’ll tell you what—you stay out of trouble while I work my horse and we’ll talk after.” She stood aside for Lily to pass. “No promises, just talk.”

Callie led Lily from the stables and told her to stay put near the dressage arena. She gave her an old soda crate to sit on and then took the red bay mare into the arena. She worked her for twenty minutes, trying to concentrate on the maneuvers and transitions from trot to canter. But her mind wasn’t really on the job. Lily sat on the sidelines, watching her, masked behind her makeup.

Ten minutes later Noah Preston’s silver utility vehicle pulled up outside the stables. Callie continued with her ride, watching as he got out and opened the back door of the truck. The children stepped out. The older boy grabbed the hands of the twins and listened as his father spoke to them. Then he headed for Lily. He had a great walk, she thought. And he looked so good in jeans and a black T-shirt. Way too good.

Callie watched as the kids followed behind him. And again it stirred something inside her. An old longing. And it gave her a snapshot of a life she’d never have.

Ryan …

The longing turned into a pain—a piercing, incredible hurt that always took root behind her ribs when she thought about the beautiful baby boy she’d lost when he was just two days old.

I miss you Ryan … I miss holding you … I miss watching you grow up and become the person you could have been.

Kirra sensed her distraction and started prancing sideways at a trot. Callie got her quickly under control and eased her to a halt in the center of the arena. And she watched as Noah began talking with his daughter. Lily nodded, he shook his head. Lily said something, he replied. The conversation lasted for some minutes and the three younger Preston children stood quietly behind their father. Finally, Lily waved her arms about and stomped off toward the truck. He said something to the three kids and they sat on the soda crate. Then he headed through the gate and into the arena.

Callie dismounted and pulled the reins over Kirra’s head, collecting them in her left hand. She fought the ridiculous impulse to take off her safety hat and smooth out her hair or rub her hands down her breeches.

He stopped about two feet in front of her. “Hello,” he said.

Callie swallowed. “Hi.”

He went to say something but then stopped. He patted the horse instead. He had nice hands, she noticed. Tanned and strong looking. She quickly snapped herself out of her silly female fantasy. “I was going to call you,” she said. “You beat me to it.”

“I knew she’d be here.”

“You did? How?”

“Because you were the last thing we talked about last night. And I know Lily—when she gets her mind stuck on something, she can be impossible to deal with.”

Callie raised her brows. “Looks like you’re surrounded by impossible women.”

My God, am I flirting? That’s what it sounds like.

And he smiled. As though he liked it. “I could think of worse things.”

Everything around her suddenly felt hot—the air in her lungs, the sand beneath her boots. “Anyway—she didn’t do any harm while she was here.”

“She’s changed since her mother left.”

Not what he wanted to say, Callie was sure of it. It was too familiar, too personal, too everything. And Callie wanted to clamp her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to hear any more. She didn’t want to know him. She didn’t want to know more of him.

“No problem.” It was a pitiful attempt at sounding indifferent.

“She used to be … sweet. A real sweet kid. And then she changed almost overnight.”

Callie felt another surge of feeling for Lily. She knew all about change. She knew what grief and hurt could do to a person. “Is that the reason for the makeup and black clothes?”

He shrugged. “Something to hide behind, I guess. She still wants riding lessons.”

Callie clicked Kirra forward and began to walk from the arena. “Well, Janelle Evans is a good instructor.”

He stepped in beside her. “She’s asked for you.”

“She can’t … you can’t … I just …”

Something happened then. Her legs stopped moving. Her lungs stopped breathing as she turned and their eyes locked. For one extraordinary moment Callie knew that whatever she was feeling, he was feeling it, too. It was crazy, heady and blindingly powerful.

He spoke first. “Lily rarely asks for anything.”

Callie continued walking. “Which means?”

“Which means I’m inclined to do whatever I can to see that she gets what she wants.”

They got to the gate. Callie tied Kirra to the railing, took a deep breath. “I’m not sure I—”

“Callie,” he said “Please, reconsider.” He placed his hand on her arm. A light touch, but the electricity coursing between their skin could not be denied. He looked at his hand but didn’t remove it. Callie stood still, held in place by his touch, by the mere wisp of space that lay between them. “Lily needs you.” He paused, watching her. “And I … and I need you.”

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