What on earth?

Something had happened to her pillow.

Audra turned her head. It felt as if she was lying against someone’s shoulder.

Her eyelids flew open to discover a pair of gray eyes only inches away from hers. They were studying her features intently.

“Don’t scream and spoil the moment. It’s only 11:00 a.m. I’m not ready to get up yet.”

She swallowed hard. They were lying side by side. “I must have had a terrible nightmare.”

“Yes. You asked me not to leave you.”

“I’m sorry you had to come to my rescue again.”

“I’m not. When I told you I’d stay right here, you went back to sleep—and you’ve been peaceful ever since.”

Audra forced herself to sit up and reach for her crutches. Without looking at him, she said, “If I’m hungry, you must be starving.”

“Frankly, food’s the last thing on my mind. It would be nice just to lie here and talk.”

Too nice, Audra’s heart cried. I could make it a habit. A minute-by-minute, by hour, by week, by month, by year, by lifetime habit!

Dear Reader,

I went to school in Switzerland and France between the ages of seventeen and twenty-two. I remember one year in particular, when I returned home for Christmas. I walked into my family house in Salt Lake City, a place of love and familiarity. One of my favorite Christmas songs was playing on the stereo, the smell of cloves and cinnamon wafted through the air and the Christmas tree held the same ornaments I’d loved as a child. Mother looked so beautiful, and Dad so handsome. Everything was perfect.

It suddenly hit me how blessed I was to be able to return home year after year and find everything the same. I was thinking about this when the stories of the Hawkins brothers came to me.

Their dangerous careers have sent them around the world, yet (like me) they take for granted their wonderful, loving parents and their home in Colorado full of cherished memories. They assume that home and those people will always be there waiting. I wondered what would happen to them if tragedy struck at home while they were away. How would they handle it?

I searched my soul to write their stories. Home to Copper Mountain is Rick’s story; you’ll find Nate’s story in Another Man’s Wife, released in February 2003. Get inside their skins as they deal with their grief and find enduring love with the strong women who come into their lives at exactly the right time.

Enjoy!

Rebecca Winters

P.S. If you have access to the Internet, please check out my Web site at http://www.rebeccawinters-author.com.

Home to Copper Mountain
Rebecca Winters

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Home to Copper Mountain

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

“SHALL WE GO over to my desk and get the paperwork done so we can put you behind the wheel today?”

Until early this morning, Rick Hawkins hadn’t intended to buy a car. But an unexpected phone call from his father, who knew that Rick was on his way to Arizona to sign some racing contracts, had been the lifeline Rick was looking for. He had grabbed for it with both hands. It was decided—he would visit his father in Texas on his way west.

Loath to suffer through hours of airport lines, security checks, plane changes and rental cars, he decided to do himself a favor and arrive at the Jarrett Ranch outside Austin on his own power.

The black BMW M3 two-door coupe with the eighteen-inch wheels, 350-horsepower engine and six-speed manual transmission sitting in the middle of the showroom floor would do fine.

He turned to the young salesman. “If you can put me behind it in ten minutes, I’ll take it.”

“I think we could manage that. My name’s John Dunn, by the way.”

“John.” Rick shook his hand, then followed him inside his office to answer the inevitable series of questions about his finances.

“Who’s your employer?”

“I’m out of work at the moment, but don’t be alarmed. I plan to pay cash for the car. Check with my bank.”

The salesman blinked before getting up from the desk. He handed him a brochure from a pile sitting next to a desk calendar.

May eighth. Spring had been here for a while. Rick hadn’t noticed its arrival.

“While you’re waiting, you might want to look through it. I’ll be right back.”

Rick didn’t need to see any literature. If he hadn’t felt such a strong loyalty to Mayada for signing him at nineteen, he would have switched to BMW when they’d offered him a racing contract two years later. Their engineering was unequaled.

But his drive to Texas wouldn’t be like circling the track. This trip would be open-ended. And he would be driving his own car.

After another hellish night like last night, he decided to leave immediately and drive the whole distance in one shot. It would be a different race than any he’d run before.

Instead of outdriving the competition, he’d be facing his own worst enemy—an enemy chiseling away at his sense of self, his confidence, his happiness, his virtual raison d’être. Himself.

Many times in his racing career he’d been subjected to near-death experiences that had tested his grit and resilience.

This was different.

His mother, with her eternal spirit of optimism, was dead. The only home he’d ever known was gone. He had no woman to share his life. The thought of going back to racing didn’t set him on fire. For the first time ever, he could see no sure path before him. And this thought terrified him.

Preoccupied by his demons, he hadn’t noticed Mr. Dunn had already returned, accompanied by a smiling middle-aged manager. The manager carried a camera.

“Mr. Hawkins? I’m Lewis Karey. It’s a great honor to meet you, sir.”

“Thank you.” Rick stood up and shook hands with him.

“John didn’t realize he was dealing with the Lucky Hawkins, one of the world’s most famous sports celebrities.”

“Hardly.”

“Wait till I let Munich know the three-time winner of the Laguna Seca purchased an M3 from us.”

“This is a red-letter day for me, too,” Rick murmured. “I’ll tell you a little secret. I’ve never owned anything but a motorcycle to get around. This will be my first car.”

“You? One of the greatest Formula One drivers in racing today and you’ve never owned your own car?” The manager looked and sounded incredulous.

Rick chuckled. “That’s right, but when I decided I needed one, I knew exactly where to come.”

Lewis Karey beamed. “I hope this business of your being out of work is temporary. This is the first I’ve heard you’ve left the racing circuit.”

“Only time will tell what the future holds. Since no one outside of Mayada and my former sponsor knows the situation, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything.”

Mr. Karey looked at John. “Our lips are sealed. Before we move the car out of the showroom to get it ready for you, could I take a couple of pictures of you standing by it?”

He had been through this experience hundreds of times before, why not once more? No one owned him yet. He was still a free property.

“Sure.”

Until his father’s severe depression had caused him to retire early from Formula One racing, his motorcycle had accompanied him on the racing circuit and had been the only transportation he’d needed.

Before returning to his family home in Copper Mountain, Colorado, to help his grieving father run the family ski business, he’d given his bike to the college-age son of his crew chief, Wally Sykes. Rick saw no reason for keeping it when he knew he could rely on the company Blazer or his deceased mother’s car to get around.

But in a shocking turn of events, he’d arrived home to discover his father had overcome his grief enough to be married again. Furthermore, he was selling the ski shop and the Blazer, and was moving to Texas.

Believing his mom’s Nissan would still be available to him while he decided whether to try to get a new sponsor and return to the racing circuit, Rick underwent a second shock.

His older brother, Nate, a former F-16 fighter pilot who’d resigned his commission to fly home and help their father, too, suddenly decided to get married and become a flight instructor for the air force academy.

Nate, Laurel and the baby from her first marriage were now living in the Hawkins family home while they waited to move into their new house in Colorado Springs. Since they needed two cars, it was decided Laurel would keep the Nissan.

Everyone had somewhere to go, someone to be with. Except Rick, who felt totally displaced.

Since Nate’s wedding, Rick had been staying in Denver with Laurel’s sister, Julie, and her husband, Brent, just trying to hold on. But he couldn’t impose on the Marsdens any longer. It was time to go.

The question was, after Arizona, where?

He felt like a man without a country, a man who belonged nowhere. It was a lonely experience, foreign in ways he couldn’t describe. The nights were the worst, when he had no choice but to lie in a cold sweat and tough it out until morning.

“Okay,” the manager said. “Now let’s get a couple of pictures of you sitting in the car. I think we’ll leave the door open for the full effect.”

Rick obliged. Once he slid behind the wheel, he could smell the new tan leather upholstery. Nice.

By now every salesman, lot attendant, receptionist, cashier, mechanic and client in the building had materialized. There was quite a crowd assembled. Mr. Karey wasn’t the only one taking pictures.

Rick ended up signing autographs on brochure after brochure while dozens of questions were fired at him by those who followed the sport.

“Mr. Hawkins is here to buy a car,” the manager spoke above the questions. “He was kind enough to let us take pictures and sign autographs. Let’s not stampede him.”

Rick appreciated the man’s intervention before questions were posed that he couldn’t answer. It was better not to say anything that could be misquoted to the press.

A racing contract with everything he’d asked for and more had been drawn up by the attorneys of Trans T & T Communications. The megacorporation for whom Brent worked had shown a flattering eagerness to sponsor Rick.

Mayada, the Japanese manufacturer that designed the Formula One cars Rick had been driving for eight years, had also drafted a new contract. Both were in the hands of Neal Hasford, Rick’s attorney in Arizona, awaiting his signature.

According to Neal the terms of the contracts looked good, but Rick had yet to put his name on the dotted line.

He shook everyone’s hand, then turned to Mr. Karey. “I have to leave, but I’ll be back within a half hour to sign the papers.”

“Fine. We’ll have everything ready for you.”

After leaving the dealership, Rick headed for Aurora, a suburb of Denver where the Marsdens lived. His suitcases were already packed and waiting in the trunk of Julie’s car. All he had to do was honk and she’d come out of the house to run him back for his new BMW. Then he’d be off.

“It’s a good thing Brent isn’t here to see this!” she exclaimed as they drove into the parking lot of the service department thirty minutes later. The gleaming black car stood waiting. “We’re trying to save up for our dream home.”

Rick turned to the lovely raven-haired mother-to-be. She was kind and generous to a fault, just like his new sister-in-law, Laurel. “In the end it’s just a vehicle for transportation. What you and Brent have together can’t be bought. You’re the lucky ones.” She’d never know how lucky.

He jumped out of the car and she moved to take her place behind the wheel. He tapped on the window so she’d lower it.

“Tell Mike and Joey, the next time I come to Denver I’ll take them out to Pike’s Peak Raceway to watch the junior stock-car races. My friend Chip Warner, a former racer who works out there, will show them around.”

Her eyes filmed over. “You’d better keep your promise. We all wish you wouldn’t leave. Phone often, please. Brent’s really going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss all of you, too.” More than you can imagine.

If it was this difficult to say goodbye to her, he didn’t dare put himself through the gut-wrenching experience of paying his brother one final visit in Colorado Springs on his way to Texas.

He kissed her cheek. “Give me a moment to get my bags out.”

Julie nodded.

After he’d put them on the ground and closed the trunk, he walked back to her. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will. I guess I don’t have to tell you. If we find out we’re having a boy, it’s unanimous—his name’s going to be Rick.”

She shouldn’t have told him that. “I’d be flattered and honored.”

With a wave of her hand, she took off. Her glistening blue eyes were the last thing he saw before Mr. Dunn approached. “If you want to step inside the building, someone will put your bags in the trunk.”

“Thanks.”

Rick followed him into another office where Mr. Karey was waiting. Once he’d written out a check and put his signature on everything, Rick glanced at the younger man standing by. “You’re a good salesman, John.”

His smile was sheepish. “I’m afraid I didn’t do a thing to sell this car, Mr. Hawkins.”

“That’s what I mean. You left me alone to make up my own mind. That’s the best kind of salesman.”

Both men looked pleased. It was the manager who said, “Well, you’re the dream customer.” He handed him the keys and the leather kit containing all the papers and instructions. “Dare we make the pitch you’ll never want to drive anything else again?”

“Dare away.” He flashed them a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”

They shook hands again and walked out to the car with him. The driver’s door had been opened in invitation.

A flick of the ignition and the engine purred to life. He adjusted the seat and the mirrors. They’d filled the tank. All systems were go.

“We’ll look forward to seeing you when you come in for your first scheduled oil change.”

When that time came, Rick had no idea where he’d be, but they didn’t need to know that. “Thanks for the excellent service. I’ve appreciated it. So long.”

He drove out to the street and joined the stream of traffic. The car could travel from zero to sixty in four point eight seconds. He’d test it out as soon as he reached the freeway.

Later, when he came to those long, lonely stretches of road devoid of traffic, he’d find how well she traveled at a hundred and ten miles an hour.

What he needed right now was a map of Texas. Though he’d been around the world many times, he’d never raced there or had an inclination to visit.

At the next full-service station he bought the map, a six-pack of cold cola and a large bag of potato chips. That would hold him for a while.

Once back in the car, he opened the map and began estimating distances. Denver to Austin was approximately nine hundred miles. En route he’d phone his father for details to reach the ranch.

He glanced at his watch. Eleven-thirty. If he averaged a hundred miles an hour, plus or minus, he’d be in Austin by eight or eight-thirty that night.

FOURTEEN HOURS LATER, after stopping and starting for near-constant road construction, he turned on US 290, leaving Austin behind him.

The salespeople at the dealership wouldn’t recognize his bug-spattered, mud-splattered car. He needed a shower and a shave, but that wasn’t going to happen until he arrived at his destination.

According to his father’s directions he needed to continue west a half hour or so until he came to Highway 16 where he would turn south. At exactly one point six-tenths of a mile, he’d see the entrance to the Jarrett Ranch on his right.

How in the hell did people live in a place where there was no sign of a mountain? After driving through this endless state, surrounded by a flat world of dust and heat, he couldn’t comprehend how his father was surviving.

Clint Hawkins was a remarkable athlete who’d skied to many victories, including an Olympic gold medal. How did a man who loved winter and had spent his whole married life in the Colorado Rockies at ten thousand feet stand it?

No wonder so many Texans flocked to the towns of Copper Mountain and Breckenridge during ski season. Anything to get away from this miserable wilderness they called home.

Rick and Nate used to laugh over their visitors’ funny accents and inability to stop talking for a single second to let someone else get a word in. Today he’d met the same type on the road when he’d stopped for gas and food.

As far as he was concerned, the Texans could keep Texas. He’d come to see his father, then he was out of here!

For the dozenth time he flicked on the radio hoping to find a station that played something besides rock or country. After leaving Colorado, he’d been hearing the same songs over and over as he drove through New Mexico and Texas. Was there no such thing as a classical-music station beyond the Rockies?

Before he’d left Denver he should have stopped at a CD store and bought some symphonic recordings to keep him company. Rick’s mother had taught him to enjoy everything from baroque and classical to modern.

On the morning of a race, there was nothing he loved better than to listen to Vivaldi or Brahms or Mahler while he ate a big breakfast. Any of them brought structure and order to his mind, helping him to focus on the task ahead.

Aware his nerves were frayed from a combination of fatigue and a growing inner anxiety he couldn’t throw off, he pressed the scan button to tune out the heavy-metal music blaring from some rock station out of Austin.

The next couple of stations were phone-in talk shows about politics or UFOs. He was about to shut off the radio for good when he came across a station where he heard a female vocalist backed by a terrific guitarist. It sounded like country music, but she sang with such a great voice he pressed the button to keep the tuner there.

You invade our space,

You drink our beer,

You pollute the place,

You shoot our deer,

You build your castles,

You do as you please,

If it’s worth the battle you change the course of streams,

You grow Bermuda grass,

You even plant hay,

Then you can’t figure out why the wildlife went away.

You fly down for weekends

To your twenty-acre spread,

Then you wonder why,

Your cattle all lie dead.

You’re the dreaded windshield rancher invading the Hill Country,

You wanted a part of Texas,

And by golly,

You destroyed habitat and birthright during a bad economy.

You came, you saw, you conquered,

You took my legacy.

Because of you, you, you, you,

This happened to me, me, me, me.

I’m an uprooted bluebonnet,

I no longer have a home,

Do you hear me, windshield rancher? Thanks to you I’m alone.

The light has now gone out,

I can’t see in front of me,

There’s no home to go back to,

Fear is my destiny.

The past is gone forever,

It walked out the door.

What once excited, excites no more,

The song ended, jerking Rick back to cognizance of his surroundings.

Damn. He’d been so mesmerized by what he’d heard, he’d overshot the turnoff to the ranch by four miles. Since no one was around, he made a tire-squealing U-turn in the middle of the road and flew back down the highway.

“And now for all you night creatures like me who can’t sleep because your demons won’t let you—oh yes, I’ve got them, too—shall we have a change of pace? I’ve had a lot of requests for Gounod’s Ave Maria for voice and harp. Enjoy this last number before we say good-night.”

Rick almost missed the entrance again because the female disc jockey had started to play the next recording. The second he heard the voice, he realized it was the same vocalist who’d performed the amazing country song. This time she was singing to an exquisite harp accompaniment.

Why didn’t the disc jockey give out the name of the singer?

Whoever she was, she had extraordinary talent to be able to perform such diametrically opposed pieces of music with equal ability. He wanted her name so he could look for some of her records.

Parts of the first song resonated with him.

The light has now gone out,

I can’t see in front of me,

There’s no home to go back to,

Fear is my destiny.

The past is gone forever,

It walked out the door,

What once excited, excites no more.

Rick could have written those lines himself. Whoever the composer was had to be a native Texan, considering the subject matter. It sounded like life had dealt them a hard blow.

Realizing someone else out there in the cosmos was going through the same disquieting experience helped him to understand he wasn’t the only person who felt as if they were losing their mind.

Absorbed in his painful thoughts, he was slow to process the fact that the white three-quarter-ton pickup truck moving toward him came to a stop as Rick passed it. He blinked, then reversed.

His father’s familiar half smile had never been more welcome than in this back of beyond. They both put down their windows at the same time. The air still held the earth’s warmth. He could smell skunk.

“Dad—” His throat swelled with unexpected emotion.

“It’s good to see you, too, son. You told me you’d be driving a new M3. For a moment I thought I’d come upon James Bond. So…how did your first car handle?”

Rick’s lips twitched. “A lot better than my first homemade go-cart.”

“That’s reassuring. I’ll turn around so you can follow me the rest of the way.”

Beyond tired, he was grateful to be led down the dark, dusty road. When they reached the ranch house three miles from the entrance, Rick regretted having to turn off the beautiful voice with the harp accompaniment. He wished her music could have kept him company all the way from Colorado.

He got out of the car eager to feel Clint Hawkins’s famous bear hug.

Silhouetted against a night sky partly obscured by clouds, the Queen Anne–style house loomed behind his parent. The two-story structure had many gables and a tower with a conical roof. For a ranch house it looked totally out of place and unlike anything Rick had been imagining.

“IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN, ladies and gentlemen. We’re coming up on three in the morning. I’ll be taking your requests Friday at midnight on KHLB, the Hill Country station out of Austin at 580 on the AM dial. Thank you for listening to the Red Jarrett Show, where I aim to bring you a little bit of the best of everything.”

The line-board operator back at the station in Austin turned the switch, and Audra Jarrett was off the air. Her boss had arranged for her to do her program from the ranch while she was recuperating from her accident. Several technicians from the studio had come out to the house to set up the mixing board, stands, plug-in mike and Telos digital sound system. So far everything had worked perfectly, but it seemed she had a ways to go before she was fully recovered.

She let out a groan of exhaustion and ran her fingers through her hair, which was damp at the roots from exertion.

After eyeing the short distance from her table to the bedroom doorway, she felt for her crutches and with superhuman effort, grabbed them from where they’d been leaning against the wall. She stopped long enough to turn out the lights, then moved out into the hallway and into the bedroom next door and lay down on the bed. The night was warm enough that she didn’t need a blanket to cover her.

There was no way she’d be getting up again any time soon to brush her teeth or change out of her top and cutoffs. They were the only shorts loose enough around the legs to slide up and down over her cast.

The strain of perching on the stool with her left leg in a full cast had been too draining. Whatever had possessed her to think she could transfer from her guitar to her harp between commercials while operating her own mixing board at the same time? Tonight she should have relied solely on recorded music.

She’d been home from the hospital almost a month. By now she assumed it wouldn’t be a problem to perform some of her own music live during her radio show, broadcast from the bungalow on her uncle David’s property.

It was a small three-bedroom home. With a few steps, everything was in easy reach. No stairs, no basement. But Audra hadn’t counted on the weakness that assailed her body through the simple act of singing into the microphone again. It may have just been her leg that was broken, but this seemed to affect her whole body.

The car accident that had taken Pete Walker’s life could have done a lot more damage. But it hadn’t been her time to go.

No. Destiny’s plan had been to kill her off in increments. She figured when her uncle found a buyer for the ranch, that would be the final blow.

Her eyelids fluttered closed from sorrow and fatigue.

What would she do without her music? Thanks to Pam, who’d started her on the piano in grade school, Audra had found her muse. Not even Boris, the talented French conductor she’d fallen in love with at the Paris Conservatory of Music, had been able to stamp out the solace when he’d rejected her.

As she settled back against the pillows her cell phone rang. That would be her cousin calling from the main ranch house three miles away to make sure Audra was okay.

Pam…the wonderful woman who’d been mother, sister and best friend rolled into one since Audra was a little girl.

She reached for her phone. After checking the caller ID to make sure, she clicked on to talk to her cousin. “It’s 3:15 a.m., Mrs. Hawkins.”

Audra loved calling her that. Clint Hawkins was the best thing that had ever happened to Pam. Audra was half in love with him herself.

“Your new husband is going to resent me if you keep this up. I’ve been out of the hospital for some time now, yet you’re still hovering!”

“That’s because I listened to your broadcast tonight. You were fabulous, but you overdid it.”

Audra couldn’t hide anything from her. “I found that out as soon as I was switched off the air.”

“I’m mad at you, honey. The doctor warned you to be careful.”

“I wanted to start performing again. It’ll be easier next time.”

“Why not wait till the cast comes off before you go back on the air, period?” Pam urged.

Because I can’t stand the nights.

Memories of the crash wouldn’t leave Audra alone. Her guilt—that she’d escaped death and Pete hadn’t—continued to haunt her.

“I’d die of boredom, but I appreciate your phoning. I’m in bed, so stop worrying about me. Now, hurry and hang up before Clint discovers you’re awake and talking to me again.”

“My husband isn’t here.”

She frowned. “Has he flown to Colorado on another family emergency?” Audra hoped everything was fine with his recently married son, Nate. That marriage almost hadn’t come off.

It didn’t seem as if Clint and Pam were ever going to get the time alone they deserved, no thanks to Audra, whose accident had ruined their honeymoon.

“He’s out in the truck looking for his son who should have arrived by now.”

Audra blinked. “I didn’t know you were expecting his family.”

“He didn’t either until earlier in the day.”

“Which one is it?”

“Rick.”

Ah yes, the famous race-car driver, Lucky Hawkins. The speed-loving son he’d secretly worried about for years. The one Clint feared would end up a statistic.

Audra refused to entertain the thought that he might have been in a collision on the highway driving down here. She didn’t want Pam thinking bad thoughts either.

“It would be a hoot if he’s lost.”

“Now, Audra…”

She chuckled. “Well, it would. Can’t you see this living sports legend whizzing around to the various ranches asking, ‘Does my daddy live here?’”

“Be nice,” her cousin murmured, but Audra could tell she was on the verge of laughter. “It’s easy to get lost in the Hill Country after dark, and lest you forget, he’s no boy.”

Her cousin was right about that. An image of the good-looking male with black hair she’d seen in some of Pam’s wedding pictures filled Audra’s mind. Clint and his sons were more attractive than any three men had a right to be.

“Is this to be a quick visit?”

“Yes. Clint’s so thrilled Rick agreed to come here on his way to Arizona, he’s been restless all day waiting for him. I put him to work helping me cook. We’re going to have a big lunch at noon. Sleep now and I’ll be by for you about quarter to twelve.”

“No, no. This is your first chance to show his son around your turf for a change. There’s no way I’m going to interfere with that!”

“Audra—Uncle David wants everyone to meet. The cousins and their families are coming from Austin. He insisted.”

“Oh, no.”

“I’m not too excited about that myself.”

Their uncle probably had to threaten leaving them out of the will for them to agree, but Audra didn’t say the words out loud. Their bitterness over his handling of the Jarrett family finances since their parents’ deaths years before had turned them into angry men.

After the loving care Pam had always shown their cousins growing up, Audra couldn’t believe how mean-spirited and ungrateful they were. When they’d heard she was marrying what they considered to be some old geezer from Colorado, they’d mocked her and laid bets the relationship wouldn’t last.

To their shock, she’d returned to Texas with her new husband following their honeymoon in Hawaii. Despite family emergencies that required Pam to leave Hawaii early to be with Audra after her accident, and Clint to fly home to Copper Mountain to talk some sense into his son Nate, who was hurting from a broken engagement, it appeared their marriage was thriving. Clint would be a permanent fixture around the ranch from now on.

Tom, the oldest of the three boys and their spokesman, had given their uncle David an ultimatum. They wanted Clint out of the main house. Until he was gone, they would no longer come out on weekends to help keep the fencing in good repair, a never-ending project.

That kind of cruelty pained Audra, who was still hampered to a large extent by her broken leg. Her unexpected accident had brought Pam running to her side to wait on her when Pam should have been enjoying precious time with her brand-new husband.

As it turned out, Clint Hawkins was anything but an old geezer.

Audra didn’t know such a wonderful person existed anywhere. She’d shed tears of happiness he’d come into Pam’s life. Already she sensed that beneath Clint’s mild-mannered nature lived a highly principled man and a force to contend with. He protected Pam in so many subtle ways, their male cousins would be no match for him when they did meet.

As for Uncle David, Audra could tell that Clint had won him over when he’d agreed to fly Pam’s husband to Odessa in the middle of the night.

There’d been some family emergency that required Clint’s getting on a plane back to Colorado. Their uncle wouldn’t have gone out of his way like that if he hadn’t respected Clint a great deal.

When Audra really thought about it, lunch with the whole family ought to be downright interesting.

“I’ll make sure I’m ready when you arrive. Thanks for checking up on me, Pam.”

“As if I wouldn’t. Get a good sleep.”

I won’t. “You, too.”

Audra clicked off, then lay back against the pillows. The time she dreaded every night was here once again.

No longer on heavy painkillers that blotted out consciousness, when she closed her eyes, her mind replayed the horror of the accident.

Refusing to let it happen tonight, she turned on the lamp and reached for the spiral notebook she kept by the bed. She could almost hear the music as she pulled the pencil from the coil and started jotting down the words to a song formulating in her mind. She’d already entitled it “Racetrack Lover.”

Hey cowboy, can you hear me?

Better hold your sweetheart tight.

There’s an exciting new man.

Coming into town tonight.

He’s lucky on the track and lucky with the women,

He’ll mess with your gal,

Consider that a given.

Tall, dark and sexy,

Handsome as sin,

He’s the racetrack lover

Who’s about to drive in.

If you don’t want a broken heart before daylight,

Keep your gal out of sight and locked up tight.

Better put her in the barn,

And throw away the key,

Don’t let him get near her,

Or believe you me,

He’ll take her for a ride,

And rob you blind,

Before he spins his wheels,

And leaves her behind.

He’s a charmer,

He’s a talker,

He’s a no-strings guy,

He’s the racetrack lover in town on the fly.

Hey cowboy, can you hear me?

Better hold your sweetheart tight.

There’s an exciting new man coming into tow—

“I’m so cold. Are you cold, Pete? Pete? Talk to me! Oh no! Oh please God, no.

“Don’t let him be dead! Help him! Help him!” She pounded her fist against the glass.

“Why doesn’t someone come?” She pounded harder. “Help! So much blood. He’s not moving.

“Someone help! What am I going to do?”

“Audra?”

“Oh thank God. Get him out. Hurry!”

“Audra? Wake up,” an alarmed voice sounded from the murky haze engulfing her. “Wake up! You’re having a nightmare.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder. “Come on. Wake up. It’s all right. You’re home in bed. It was just a bad dream.”

“Pam?” she cried, clutching the hand that gripped her upper arm to force her awake.

But it wasn’t small and feminine. This hand felt solid and male. Her eyelids flew open.

A man with black hair stood over her bed.

CHAPTER TWO

AUDRA SCREAMED bloody murder and threw off his hand while she tried to reach the nearest crutch. To her horror, her bad leg pretty well held her anchored.

“Forgive me for frightening you, Ms. Jarrett,” he said in a low voice. “I’m Clint Hawkins’s son Rick. I told Pam I’d pick you up for her.”

Rick Hawkins?

She fought to catch her breath and waited for her heartbeat to return to normal. Her mind began to clear now that the threat of bodily injury had passed. Audra recognized him from Pam’s wedding photographs. In those pictures his tall, well-honed physique had been dressed in a formal suit instead of a black T-shirt and jeans. He was even more attractive in person.

“When I got out of my car, I could hear screaming. It gave me the chills,” he explained. His compassionate gaze let her know her nightmare must have been a beaut.

Audra moaned while she willed her body to calm down. To think he’d heard her carrying on from clear outside.

How awful! How humiliating!

“I thought you were being attacked. Your front door was locked, so I got in through your bedroom window, which had been left open.”

Last night she’d been too physically exhausted to check the window. Her driving need had been to reach the bed before she collapsed.

To her chagrin the clock radio by her bed said five after twelve. She hadn’t thought to set it because she rarely needed an alarm to wake her up. Normally she only slept seven hours.

“It’s a-all right,” she stammered. “If you would please wait for me in the living room. It’s down the hall on your left.”

“Would you like some help getting up first?”

“No— I can manage, thank you.”

The concerned gray eyes staring down at her from between heavy black lashes made a sweep of her five-foot-five figure. They started with the toes peeping out of her cast, and ended with her dark red curls, missing nothing in between. She felt as if he’d just sucked all the air out of her lungs.

“So you’re the cousin who almost lost a limb.” His voice had a faraway sound, yet his gaze was all too personal as it took in her other leg, which was bare to the fringe of her denim shorts. “Thank God it didn’t happen.”

Thank heavens she hadn’t changed out of her clothes before she’d finally drifted off. He could have found her in her underwear…

Audra had never felt so embarrassed in her whole life. Heat poured into her cheeks.

“So,” she mimicked. She was attracted to him yet his presence in her bedroom made her feel violated, though she knew he’d meant her no harm. “You’re the son with the death wish. The Hill Country’s a little far out of your way for a pit stop, isn’t it?”

Avoiding his eyes, she waited until he’d disappeared out the door before reaching for her crutches.

That’s when she saw her spiral notebook still open and lying on the bed next to her hip. The pencil had fallen to the floor.

“Racetrack Lover!”

Oh no! Had he read what she’d written?

Audra closed the book and put it on the bedstand. In a few clumsy moves she eased herself off the mattress and was able to grab fresh underwear from the drawer.

No way was she going to wear another pair of shorts in front of him. Snug jeans were impossible to put on. A blouse and skirt would be easier to manage than a dress with a zipper up the back.

She pulled a light-blue blouse and denim skirt from the hangers in the closet, then moved to the bathroom across the hall as fast as she could.

Since she was unable to shower with the cast on, a quick sponge bath would have to do for today. The small bathroom left little space for her cast and the crutches, too.

She applied a dusky pomegranate shade of lipstick and flicked a brush through her curls. There wasn’t anything she could do about the shadows under her eyes.

“Did you close and lock your window?” he asked as she entered the living room a few minutes later.

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? Until a few minutes ago we’ve never had a break-in.”

She hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic, but it must have come out sounding that way, because he grimaced.

“Then you’re damn lucky.”

“According to your father, so are you,” she drawled.

The room was charged with tension, which broke as he moved toward the hallway. Audra made a half turn with her crutches.

Over her shoulder she said, “If you’re determined to be a Boy Scout instead of an intruder, you might as well put the screen back on while you’re at it.”

After that reminder she opened the front door and started down the porch steps. There were only two of them. She managed without difficulty.

It didn’t surprise her to find a new, gleaming black BMW parked in front of the bungalow. The kind of car she was seeing more and more of these days on the back roads…

Rich trespassers were raping the land with their easy money and didn’t know a gelding from a stallion. Did the racetrack lover know the difference? It would be interesting to find out.

RICK STARTED UP the car without saying anything to her. He backed out of the driveway, past the mailbox, to the road leading to the main ranch house. When he’d offered to pick up Pam’s cousin as a way to help, all he’d known about her was that she was recovering from an automobile accident in which the driver had been killed. Apparently, the man had worked at the same radio station she did.

Though he was armed with that much knowledge, he couldn’t have imagined what awaited him at the bungalow. The screams he’d heard coming from inside were so bloodcurdling, he still hadn’t recovered.

Ms. Audra Jarrett had come as a big surprise to him in more ways than one.

She was in her early to mid-twenties. For some reason he’d had the erroneous impression she was much closer to Pam’s forty. He’d never been partial to red hair, but then he’d never seen a shining mass of dark-mahogany curls before. They danced above a pair of blue-gray eyes so close in color to his mother’s, he was taken by surprise.

While he’d tried to wake the writhing woman on top of the bed, his gaze had been drawn to the curves of her slender body, making it impossible for him to look anywhere else.

Right now she didn’t appear to be in the mood to talk. Who could blame her for her silence?

No doubt she’d been plagued by horrific dreams since the crash. They had to be disorienting and probably stayed with her even after she awakened from them.

He’d known several racers who’d had to be cut from a wreckage. While he’d watched and listened to Audra fight her way out of her nightmare, it was evident she’d been trapped in the car accident that had broken her leg.

Neither his father nor Pam had shared those details with him. His breaking into her bedroom couldn’t have helped the situation any.

“I’m sorry a total stranger had to be the cause of more distress,” he apologized again. “You were in such a highly agitated state, my only thought was to get to you and wake you up so you wouldn’t have to suffer any longer.”

“I realize I sounded like a soldier back from Vietnam, so you’re forgiven,” she said without looking at him. “Last night Pam told me your father had gone out looking for you, so I can’t say you came as a complete surprise. Otherwise I’d have cracked your head open with the end of my crutch.”

“Ouch,” he teased.

“Obviously he found you,” she replied without a hint of warmth. “How far off the beaten track were you?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

Audra Jarrett didn’t like him.

Rick wasn’t such a vain man he had to conquer every woman in sight. Still, her hostility had gotten beneath his skin.

Intrigued, he intended to learn the reason for her demeanor. He suspected today’s events had little to do with the fact that she wished herself anywhere but in his car.

“We discovered each other on the ranch road about two miles from the house.”

Her only response was to turn her head and stare out the passenger window. The gesture caused him to wonder if she resented his father for taking Pam away from her and couldn’t help disliking Rick for being his son.

Rick’s thoughts harkened back to a conversation with his brother. Nate had found out that the men in Pam’s family were laying bets on how long the marriage to their father would last. That was why she hadn’t invited any of them to the wedding.

It was possible that no one in Pam’s family, male or female, was happy about her recent marriage.

Then again, maybe Audra’s antipathy toward Rick had nothing to do with his father. Perhaps after such a terrible nightmare, she was just lashing out. The accident had killed a man she loved, and Rick happened to be a handy target.

“I heard you calling for Pete over and over again,” he said quietly. “He was your fiancé?”

That brought her head around. She studied him as if he were a species she’d never come across before.

“Your father may have married my cousin, but that doesn’t make us related or entitle you to information that’s none of your business.”

He saw her hands curl into fists. His attempt at sensitivity wasn’t going over well.

“Why don’t we start again, Ms. Jarrett?” he suggested. “Since my father and Pam’s happiness is of the utmost importance to both of us, shall we try to be friends while I’m here?”

His father intended to use the money from the sale of the ski business to help Pam establish a bed-and-breakfast on the ranch. Apparently, the idea had been a dream of hers for years and would bring in much needed income. Rick didn’t want to see anything go wrong with their plans when they both seemed so excited about it.

He pulled to a stop in front of the ranch house where there were a half-dozen cars and trucks assembled.

“I have a better idea,” she replied.

His lips twitched while he waited to hear the rest of her remarks with an eagerness that surprised him.

“Let’s agree to stay out of each other’s way. It shouldn’t be too difficult. Inside of twelve hours, boredom will consume you. By nightfall we’ll be breathing the dust from your tires when you peal out of here for heaven knows what race with death you have scheduled next.”

Her withering comment brought to mind a conversation he’d had with his brother a few weeks earlier.

When I saw Laurel’s joy as she held her daughter in her arms, I knew what Mom and Dad felt when we were born. Since that moment, I’ve asked myself how our parents were able to accept our chosen careers without suffering a nervous breakdown in the process.

Come on, Nate. Don’t forget, they placed themselves in mortal danger every time they ran a ski race.

True. But in comparison, you have to admit strapping ourselves into a race car or into the cockpit of a jet increases the danger by quantum leaps.

No longer smiling, Rick got out of the car to help Audra, but Pam had reached her first.

“Honey—you took so long I got worried about you.” She opened the back door to retrieve the crutches for her cousin.

“Forgive me. I’m afraid I overslept.”

The impassioned woman of a moment ago shot Rick a warning glance that forbid him to add one word of explanation.

Message received, he muttered to himself.

By this time Audra had swung her legs out, displaying amazing agility for someone wearing a full-length leg cast. With Pam’s assistance she stood up and started walking toward the house on her crutches.

Pam put a detaining hand on Rick’s arm. Her demeanor didn’t resemble that of the radiant wife who’d introduced Rick and his father to her male cousins less than an hour ago. Some contentious family issue must have flared up during the time Rick had been gone.

“Thanks for picking her up. Did she seem all right to you?” Pam asked in an anxious voice.

Putting two and two together, Rick realized that if Pam had been at her cousin’s bedside both at the hospital and here at the house, then she knew about the nightmares. Maybe she feared Audra had suffered another debilitating episode. Under the circumstances, Rick could well understand her concern.

“She’s fine.”

He didn’t dare say anything else. It was important that Audra trust him.

They walked up the steps of the house together. “Is everything okay with you?” he asked her.

“I’m not sure. Better ask me after today is over, Rick,” came her cryptic remark.

THE DINING ROOM was Audra’s favorite place in the house. It had a huge eighteen-foot ceiling, an enormous fireplace and circular bay windows. In the past, with the addition of several round tables surrounding the main dining-room table, the room could hold forty-five Jarretts comfortably. But tragedy had struck, limiting their numbers.

Today the remaining fifteen family members were joined by Clint Hawkins and his son. Uncle David, whose thinning gray hair still showed traces of auburn, presided at the head.

Several of the other family members in the room had inherited the Jarrett trait of red hair. Audra had been forced to put up with a lot of teasing because of it. She didn’t envy her cousins’ children for what they’d have to deal with as they grew older.

Her uncle told Audra to sit at the opposite end of the table where she could rest her cast without any obstruction. Then he asked the boys—her male cousins now in their thirties—to get up and finish bringing in the rest of the food from the kitchen.

Audra didn’t dare glance at Pam just then. The vexed expressions on the boys’ faces would have caused both of them to break into laughter.

To Audra’s relief, their uncle had placed Pam and Clint on his right, with Rick next to his father. Jim, Sherry and their two children sat on his left. Next to them came Greg and Diane and their two kids. Tom and Annette and their two offspring took up the rest of the places.

Being at opposite ends of the table meant Audra didn’t have to look into a pair of intelligent gray eyes that had been privy to sights she didn’t want anyone to see.

Trying to overcome the shock of finding Rick Hawkins standing over her when she’d awakened, screaming her head off, she concentrated on her food.

As far as Audra was concerned, Pam was the best cook in the Hill Country. She’d outdone herself with her country-fried chicken, giblet gravy, dumplings and a half-dozen side dishes that were her uncle’s favorites.

Audra felt terrible for not contributing anything. The cast couldn’t come off soon enough to suit her.

“This is a fine meal, Pam.” Their seventy-two-year-old uncle appeared to be enjoying himself.

“Clint helped me. In fact, he made the dessert, a Hawkins-family recipe.”

“Which one is that, Dad?” she heard Rick ask.

“Rocky road.”

“I’ll bet it’s good,” their uncle commented.

“My brother and I could never get enough of it, but then we’re chocolate lovers.”

So was Audra. She helped herself to the creamed potatoes with peas, waiting for the rest of the Jarrett side of the family to chime in. But the others just talked horses and ranch business among themselves, acting for all the world as if they were alone at the table.

According to Pam, none of the boys had ever shown the slightest interest in Clint or knew anything about him except that he’d come from Colorado. They’d never asked any questions. Their distrust of outsiders, plus their jealousy of Pam, had made communication impossible.

Pam, on the other hand, had welcomed their wives into the family. She’d shown love to their children, and had done everything she could for them. Yet they ignored her new husband as if he didn’t exist. Their unconscionable rudeness toward Clint and Rick infuriated Audra. This couldn’t be allowed to go on.

She turned to Tom’s thirteen-year-old son seated on her right. “Hey, Bobby? Have you thought of a subject for your technology report yet?”

He frowned. “I was going to show how phones have changed to become cell phones, but a lot of the kids are planning to do the same thing.”

Good. He hadn’t gotten started on it yet.

“Would you like an idea that’s different? I can promise no one else in your class will have thought of it.”

“What’s that?”

“Skis and boots.”

“Huh?”

“They’ve changed a lot since the days when someone tied his shoes to wooden slats with a couple of pieces of rope and used sticks for poles. I bet when Clint won his gold medal in the Olympics, his skis and boots were a lot different because of technology.”

Bobby’s head jerked toward the other end of the table. “You won a gold medal at the Olympics?” By now everyone else was staring at Pam’s husband in surprise. It was about time the family opened their eyes and ears to the kind of man she’d married.

Clint flashed Audra a private smile. “It was a long time ago, but Audra’s right. Since then, skis and boots have undergone tremendous changes to make them faster, lighter and safer.”

“What did you win the medal in?” Michael wanted to know. He was Jim’s eleven-year-old.

“The giant slalom.”

“Whoa.”

Delighted over the kids’ reactions, Audra said, “He and his now-deceased wife owned and ran a ski business in Copper Mountain, Colorado.

“Fabulous skiers from all over the States and Europe flock there for the World Cup races. There probably isn’t anything he doesn’t know about the changes in ski technology.

“His wife won a silver medal at the same Olympics for the women’s downhill, Bobby,” Audra continued. “If I were you, I’d pump Clint for all he’s worth. You’re bound to get top marks with such an original report.”

She flicked her glance to Sherry. “Would you mind passing me the corn on the cob? It’s so good, I’ve got to have another one.”

“Sure.” Sherry picked up the bowl and handed it to Bobby, who gave it to Audra.

“Do you ski, too?” Sherry directed her question to Rick. Jim’s wife, like Annette and Diane, couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Clint’s son. And the boys didn’t seem to like it.

Audra smiled to herself. The racetrack lover had blown into town. Watch out, guys. He’s not only easy on the eyes, he’s a breed apart from the rest of you.

“Every chance I get,” came Rick’s quiet reply.

“Rick won the Junior World Slalom Championship when he was a teenager,” Pam volunteered.

“Cool!” This from several of the children.

Audra didn’t know that. “Rick Hawkins is a man of many talents.” All of them had to do with speed and danger.

At that comment, his gaze met hers head-on. She refused to look away. Pete had lost his life in a freak car accident. According to Pam, Clint figured it was only a matter of time until his son was seriously injured or killed on the track in a fiery crash. Audra didn’t want to think about that happening.

Clint adored his boys. If anything ever happened to them he would never get over it. The pain would put a blight on Pam’s marriage. And there’d been too much pain in the Jarrett family. Her cousin Pam didn’t deserve any more.

Not only would it be a pointless tragedy, it would destroy Pam and Clint’s newfound happiness. Audra wanted their joy to last forever.

She could always lock Rick up in a barn and keep the key. There was a tantalizing thought. But aside from hog-tying him, she was powerless to prevent something ghastly from happening.

Fastening her attention on Bobby once more, she said, “If you traced the Hawkins family’s experiences testing out ski equipment, I have no doubts you’d tap into exactly what your teacher had in mind when she gave you the assignment.”

Formula One race-car driving would have provided another fascinating topic for a technology report. It was a business so far removed from their insular world of horses and ranching, the boys would fall out of their chairs if they knew what Rick did for a living.

But now was not the time to enlighten them. This was Clint Hawkins’s moment.

“Would you be willing to help me, Clint?” Bobby asked.

Pam’s husband nodded. “There’s nothing I’d like more. We can go in the living room after dinner and I’ll give you some ideas to work on.”

“There won’t be time,” Tom muttered.

But their uncle said, “Make the time!”

To Audra’s delight, Clint went right on talking as if Tom hadn’t said anything. “Do you have access to the Internet, Bobby?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll supply you with some names of several ski manufacturers that explain their engineering innovations with graphics you can print out.”

“Thanks!”

“I want to read that report when you’re finished, young man.”

“Sure, Uncle David.”

“Don’t clear the dishes yet,” he warned Pam, who’d started to push herself away from the table. “I have something to say and want everyone to hear it.”

Stillness spread throughout the room.

Those ominous words had the effect of a giant hand squeezing Audra’s heart. If her instincts were right, the moment she’d been dreading for months had come. For her uncle to bring up private matters in front of Clint and his son proved how completely he’d accepted Pam’s husband into the family.

No longer interested in her meal, Audra put down her fork.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat this. Our ranch has been losing money steadily ever since the tornado destroyed lives and livelihoods twenty-three years ago. It’s left me with no option but to sell the property and the plane.”

The muscles in Audra’s stomach clenched.

“You all knew it was coming. That’s why years ago I insisted all of you get college educations and make livings for yourselves while you helped me on the side with the ranching.”

“You’ve already signed papers?” Tom asked.

“Let me finish.” He glanced at each of them. “You don’t have to wait for me to die to know what’s coming to you. Everything’s been sold except the hundred and twenty acres of fenced land with the bungalow I’ve left to Audra and you boys.”

“A hundred and twenty acres,” Tom blurted in anger.

Audra swallowed hard. She’d thought her uncle had already given Pam the bungalow.

Had he left her out of the will because she’d married Clint? Her cousin had entertained so many plans how she’d use her property. Audra couldn’t bear it. That didn’t sound like her fair-minded uncle. It had to mean he had less money than she’d thought.

Jim’s face had gone as dark red as his hair. “You can’t do anything with that small amount of land!”

Greg looked equally outraged.

“How much land did you want, Tom?” their uncle asked in his unflappable manner. “Did you have the money to buy it in order to help pay off our debts? Did any of you have the funds to save us?”

Tom ground his teeth. “You know damn well we didn’t!”

Audra flinched.

“Then be thankful you’re being given anything at all, and I won’t have you swearing in front of me or this family or our guest.”

Things were falling apart fast.

“My advice to you boys and Audra is to use the land and the bungalow for a place to come when you want a change from Austin. With fifty-two weeks in a year, that gives each of your families thirteen weeks to enjoy vacations, provided you can work out the arrangements without rancor.”

Rancor was the operative word all right. Audra took a shuddering breath.

“My Realtor has found me a condo at a retirement center in Austin. I plan to be moved out of here by the end of next week. Audra can live there with me until she decides what she wants to do.”

“Who’s the new owner?” Tom demanded. His surly tone wounded her.

“A wealthy businessman from Cleveland, Ohio, named Edwin Torney. It won’t be long before he starts building a showplace out on the south thirty.

“You’ll see workmen coming and going. They’ll be using the road at the side of the bungalow for access. Another mailbox will be put up out by the road.”

Tom was livid. “Why would he build anything when he’s already stolen this house from us?”

“Nobody stole anything, Tom. That was going to be my next announcement.” Their uncle looked around at each of them. “I’ve sold the house to Clint. He and Pam are going to live here.”

One look at Pam, and Audra thought her cousin was going to collapse from shock. Apparently she hadn’t known anything about the transaction. Clint put a loving arm around his wife.

Thank God, Audra’s heart cried. Bless you, Clint. Bless you, Uncle David.

“Pam was always your favorite,” Greg muttered. “Why don’t you just admit you gave it to her!”

Their uncle rose to his feet. “Clint Hawkins sold his business back in Colorado. He was able to pay my asking price. With that money I’ve been able to pay off the loans stacking up at the bank.

“If any one of you could have done the same, the house would be yours. I gave you the opportunity long before he came into Pam’s life. Let’s all be thankful it’ll continue to stay in the Jarrett family.

“But let me say this—if anyone deserved to have it given to them outright, it would be Pam. As a teenager she single-handedly took on the responsibilities of mother and sister to the rest of us at great cost to her own dreams.

“No one ever had a better friend, cook, housekeeper or ranching-accounts expert,” his voice trembled. “No one was ever kinder or more loving and unselfish. I don’t know what we would have done without her. Especially sweet little Audra, who was only five at the time and needed a woman’s comfort.”

Everyone looked in Audra’s direction. Three pairs of eyes glared at her, but it was Rick’s solemn gaze that shook her. At this point she couldn’t stay seated. After a struggle, she got to her feet.

With tears in her voice, she said, “No one could have been a better father to us than you, Uncle David. If you’re willing to put up with me, I’d consider it a privilege to live with you in Austin.”

He smiled and nodded to her.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to dish up that chocolate dessert.”

Afraid she’d break down in front of everyone, Audra tucked her crutches under her arms and moved toward the door. Footsteps followed her into the kitchen.

When she turned around, she discovered Rick Hawkins in pursuit.

“Let me help you.”

Before she could order him back to the table, he’d pulled the pan of rocky road from the fridge. Pam had already put the plates and forks on the counter.

Audra rummaged in the drawer for a spatula. With one crutch steadying her, she started cutting the dessert into squares. Darn if her hand wasn’t trembling. Rick couldn’t help but see. He stood too close. She felt suffocated by his nearness.

“Tell me about the tornado,” he urged.

“You heard Uncle David.”

“I was filled with dread by all he didn’t say. Is it still too difficult to talk about?”

“No.” She started putting the squares on plates.

“How many years ago did your uncle say it happened?”

“Twenty-three.”

“That puts you at twenty-eight now.”

Yup. Twenty-eight big ones and still single. No doubt the pit babes who swarm around you aren’t a day over twenty-two.

“How come the tornado didn’t destroy this house?”

Afraid he wouldn’t go away until he had answers, she decided to tell him everything and be done with it.

“An F-5 tornado cut a mile-wide swath through the tiny community of Hillmont ten miles from here. It wiped out the town, whole ranches, trees, cars, trucks, houses, fencing, equipment, barns, horses, cattle and thirty members of our family assembled at a church where they’d gathered for a christening.

“I was just getting over the measles. Since Pam had already had them, she volunteered to baby-sit me and the boys who, according to Pam, balked at going to boring church.

“Uncle David had a bad cold that day so he stayed home with us. When the services were over, there was going to be a big party.”

She sucked in her breath. “Everybody going to church left the ranch house. None of them ever came back.”

Rick’s expression darkened in horror and incredulity. She looked away, not wanting to see any more of his reaction.

“My parents and siblings were inside the church. So were Pam’s parents and siblings, the boys’ parents and siblings and Uncle David’s wife, his married children and grandchildren.”

“Good heavens—”

“Uncle David is really our great-uncle. He was the oldest member of the family and the last surviving adult of the Jarrett clan. He took us all in and raised us.

“I know it broke his heart to have to make that announcement today. He’s such a good man, and has bent over backward to be fair to each one of us. I don’t think your father could possibly understand how grateful Uncle David must be that this house is going to stay in the family.”

A lump had lodged in her throat. “T-there’s an old saying that we suffer three deaths in this life,” she stammered. “First when we die, the second when we are laid to rest and the third when our name is never spoken again.”

Her gaze lifted to his once more. “Your father has ensured that our ancestral home will stay in the Jarrett family for another generation anyway. I love Clint for loving Pam that much,” she whispered.

Audra continued in a voice that disguised little of her anger. “What I don’t understand is how ungrateful the boys are. They’re lucky he’s been able to leave them any birthright at all. On top of taking care of us all their lives, he took out loans to pay for our college education—”

She broke off talking.

None of this was Rick’s concern.

Embarrassed to have gone on and on, Audra finished dishing up the dessert. “As long as you’re here, would you mind taking these to the dining room?” She handed him two plates without looking up.

“I’ll be back to help.”

That’s what she was afraid of. She didn’t want to spend another second in the company of Rick Hawkins, of all people.

Hopefully, he’d be gone by tomorrow. Audra had no desire to get to know him any better. When you got to know someone, you learned to care about them.

Who was she kidding? She already cared about him. Until he’d rescued her from her nightmare, he’d only been an attractive face in a series of wedding photographs.

But a photograph only showed a face and body. It didn’t reveal the total person. Rick possessed layers of desirable qualities that broke down the defenses guarding her wary heart. When he’d followed her into the kitchen to help her, to listen with compassion to all she had to say, she realized he’d breached the outer walls and was standing at the door of its inner chamber.

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