“It’s only one date.”

Kelly said it to herself. And if she felt any doubt, it dissipated when she saw the tall, lanky—handsome—cowboy lounging against a lamppost outside the bar.

“Mr. Jefferson?”

He nodded, straightening to his full height. “Hello,” he said, his voice deep and stirring. “Thanks for coming all the way out here.” Dark hair settled around his chin. His eyes were shaded by his hat so that he looked mysterious. And he gazed at her as if he’d never seen a woman as beautiful.

Everything her mother had said about the wild, charming Jefferson boys reverberated in Kelly’s ears. “I’m not the petite, cheery blonde you requested,” Kelly said, too quickly.

“No. You’re not.” A grin spread across his face. “But I don’t think I knew what I wanted.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tina Leonard loves to laugh, which is one of the many reasons she loves writing Harlequin American Romance books. In another lifetime, Tina thought she would be single and an East Coast fashion buyer forever. The unexpected happened when Tina met Tim again after many years—she hadn’t seen him since they’d attended school together from first through eighth grade. They married, and now Tina keeps a close eye on her school-age children’s friends! Lisa and Dean keep their mother busy with soccer, gymnastics and horseback riding. They are proud of their mom’s “kissy books” and eagerly help her any way they can. Tina hopes that readers will enjoy the love of family she writes about in her books. Recently a reviewer wrote, “Leonard has a wonderful sense of the ridiculous,” which Tina loved so much she wants it for her epitaph. Right now, however, she’s focusing on her wonderful life and writing a lot more romance!

Fannin’s Flame
Tina Leonard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

THE JEFFERSON BROTHERS OF MALFUNCTION JUNCTION

Mason (37)—He valiantly keeps the ranch and the family together.

Frisco Joe (36)—Newly married, he lives in Texas wine country with his wife and daughter.

Fannin (35)—Should he pack up and head out to find their long-lost father, Maverick? Or search for that perfect woman?

Laredo (34), twin to Tex—His one passion was to go east and do Something Big, which meant marrying the love of his life and moving to North Carolina.

Tex (34), twin to Laredo—Determined to prove he’s settled, he left his rose garden for the good girl who captured his heart.

Calhoun (33)—He’s been thinking of hitting the rodeo circuit.

Ranger (32), twin to Archer—He gave up on joining the military to join his new wife in their RV.

Archer (32), twin to Ranger—He’ll do anything to keep his mind off his brothers’ restlessness—even write poetry to his lady pen pal in Australia.

Crockett (30), twin to Navarro—He’s an artist who loves to paint portraits—of nudes.

Navarro (30), twin to Crockett—He may join Calhoun in the bull-riding game.

Bandera (26)—He spouts poetry like Whitman—and sometimes nonsense.

Last (25)—Never least, he loves to dispense advice, especially to his brothers.

To Maria Velazquez and her little Joy—Maria, thanks for the inspiration.

Lisa and Dean—all mothers should be so blessed. Kimmie, all sisters should be so blessed. I love you. Fred Kalberer—thank you for taking care of me and Mom.

Many thanks to Harlequin and all the wonderful people there who make Tina Leonard who she is. Stacy, five down—yeehaw!

And many thanks to the readers who like their men a little on the rascally side—your loyal encouragement means so much.

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

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

If music tames the savage beast, then your mother was a full orchestra accompanied by a choir of angels.

—Maverick Jefferson to his sons one winter night when the loneliness became too much

“What I’m saying is feel the romance, Princess,” Fannin said. “Smell the breeze. Hear the sigh of the grass. Rejoice in the call of the wild. Entice that bull, Princess, please,” he pleaded with his cow to the delight of his three brothers.

“Could you turn it up, Romeo?” Archer asked. “I don’t think the people of Union Junction have heard you spout such poetry in all the years you’ve lived here.”

“Do you have to do it this way?” Calhoun complained. “Can’t you be normal and use a syringe to get a calf in her?”

“Hey!” Fannin said with a frown. “I know it’s not logical. But I want Princess to conceive the natural way.”

“Or no way at all,” Navarro said. “I see no interest on the part of her suitor.”

Indeed, the bull, Bloodthirsty Black, usually such a firebringer of hell and mortification upon hapless cowboys, appeared uninterested in his bride.

“Why don’t you tell Bloodthirsty how it’s done, Fannin?” Archer asked, gasping with smothered laughter. “After all, you are the expert with women.”

Fannin grimaced as his brothers slapped each other on the backs. “I sort of have a date Saturday night,” he said, not totally lying.

“A date!” They all leaned forward from their posts on the fence. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

Fannin turned away so they couldn’t see his face. “I’m taking Helga to the movies. She wants to see a movie in Dallas. And I think it’s time our housekeeper got off the ranch for a few hours. You dopes haven’t noticed, but Helga’s homesick for Germany. She’s lonely. So I’m taking her out.”

“Helga!” They roared with laughter.

Navarro grinned. “Yeah, I’d like to go out with a battle-ax. That’d be my choice of female companionship.”

“That’s not very nice,” Fannin said with a frown. “She’s been working hard to take care of us. You know, you ought to think about taking her out yourselves. Helga doesn’t work at our ranch just to put up with your majestic egos.”

They stared at him.

“All I ever go out with is twins,” Fannin mimicked in a high voice. “Did you see that pair of twins on Rosie Mayflower?” That was exactly how his brothers would talk—and did talk—about women.

“Now, those are some twins,” Archer agreed. “Navarro, does Rosie have any cousins with the same genetic traits? There has to be some family relations she could introduce us to.”

“Breasts aren’t everything,” Fannin pointed out.

“But they are something,” Navarro said, “and they count big-time in my book.”

“Anyway,” Archer said, “you’re not even talking to Princess right, Fannin. A woman doesn’t want to be begged or pleaded with for sex. She wants to be told how it’s going to be. She wants to be ravaged. Stormed and conquered. If she knows what the game is up-front, then she’s happy to play. No wonder you don’t have any real dates.”

“Well, it is true that the early caveman didn’t have any trouble getting a woman,” Fannin said. “He just dragged her off by the hair.”

“No point in getting rough,” Calhoun said. “All we’re suggesting is that your way is too subtle to get a woman’s attention. Notice we get the women, while you tend to get the sister with the good personality and the insurmountable chastity.”

“Because I don’t storm the gates,” Fannin finished.

“Afraid he’s right,” Navarro said. “Never let a woman have the upper hand, especially in the sack, or you’ll wind up with a Helga running your world. In other words, you’ll end up whipped when you should be putting your feet up after a long day, with a very attractive female ready to bring you a beer, serve you your supper in a comfy armchair and then put you to bed with a smile on her face.”

“That’s what I mean,” Fannin said sadly to Princess. “My brothers are all so artificial. They only think of one thing. Don’t worry about that stupid bull not wanting you,” he told his favorite cow. “He’s probably lost all his good genes throwing cowboys around.”

“Princess is not a pet,” Calhoun said sternly.

“She is to me. And I want a good calf out of her. I’m giving a calf to Mimi’s baby when it’s born, so her little girl will have money in the bank when she grows up.”

“And the calf can’t come from a syringe,” Navarro said, shaking his head.

“The best things take time,” Fannin said briskly. “And the right moment. Magic.”

“And I say you’re going to be waiting a helluva long time, you and your Princess.” Archer slapped his hat against his leg and hopped off the rail. “I got work to do.”

His other brothers murmured something similar, leaving Fannin alone with Princess and her lackluster lover.

“Hey,” he said to the bull, “you’re supposed to be the hottest thing on hooves. What’s your problem? I had to haul you out here in a special trailer so you wouldn’t do damage to yourself. Half the county said I was crazed to even let you near Princess. They said, do it the right way, but I said no, natural was better. And look at you over there. You couldn’t care less. I believe you’re only good for the ring, you old show pony.”

Fannin sighed, his brothers’ words eating at him. It was true he didn’t date much. He didn’t have the ruthlessness in him to love and leave a woman. He had to admit, his brothers’ techniques did seem to drive the women wild. Truthfully, Fannin thought, he had some things in common with Bloodthirsty Black.

Last year had seen enough settling down to suit all the Jefferson brothers—four brothers down but eight determined not to make a trip to the altar. Fannin was in no hurry to get into a relationship.

“But I would like a date,” Fannin told Princess. “Not counting the one with Helga. Actually, I want a night of rowdy sex. Lusty fornication. With the right woman, though.” He looked at Princess. “Unfortunately, to get the right woman I’d have to order up. Made-to-order, like Bloodthirsty is for you. All the best genes. I could say, okay, this is what I want, and I want her to do this and not to do that, and I don’t want any flak about it. Then my brothers would have to shut up. But how do I get that?”

Princess ignored him.

“My brothers say their blue-ribbon goal is sex in the morning, every morning, and it’d be a best-case scenario if they could relieve themselves without having to worry about the woman. Who cares if she climaxes? And please get out of the bed quickly and quietly. Vamoose!” He sighed with frustration. “They’re such syringe types.”

The only time a woman had come to the ranch without designs on any of the brothers it had been an accident. Actually, it had been women who’d arrived, courtesy of an e-mail that his eldest brother, Mason, and their next-door neighbor, Mimi, had missent. All hell had broken loose when the females from Lonely Hearts Station had arrived.

But so many good things had come out of that stray e-mail, from weddings to babies.

And even Helga. Mimi had called her friend, Julia Finehurst, of the Honey-Do Agency and asked for a female housekeeper, one that Mason couldn’t fall in love with, even though Mimi knew she’d never have Mason. Mimi was just that way about keeping Mason pinned in a corner.

Helga had arrived, and Fannin could honestly say the square, stout German housekeeper kept all the brothers in line. Like a female military sergeant. Mimi had played the prank of all pranks on Mason.

Fannin wouldn’t want to date anyone as fiery as Mimi. A woman like that would probably blow the flame out of him eventually. He wanted a woman, but he wanted the right woman—for now. For a night or two. Maybe even a month. No tricks. No drama. Plenty of sex. Was it so much to ask?

Fannin’s mother had been calm, loving and content to live on a faraway ranch with twelve boys and a loud rascal husband who was popular among the townspeople—the ladies. They’d all known who ruled the Jefferson roost with quiet, admirable control. Maverick Jefferson was never happier than when his wife had him wrapped securely around her little finger.

Fannin groaned. They just didn’t make women like that anymore. And maybe his brothers were right. His technique had to go or he was going to end up alone, living at the ranch with Mason and his other fathead brothers. Today’s women seemed to require more machismo out of a man, and he’d call himself a John Wayne type rather than a jerk in cowboy gear. But if that’s what today’s woman needed, he supposed he could force a little more chauvinism into his approach.

“Good night,” he said to the bounty bull. “I doubt you’ll get matters figured out, but I’ll leave you here awhile just in case. And you, Miss Princess, you just try to be a docile lass if your man comes a-courting.”

Fannin headed up to the house and went into Mason’s office. Reaching into the haphazard Rolodex, he pulled out a card for the Honey-Do Agency. He sat down at the computer and typed in the e-mail address. He’d heard the agency was branching out into matchmaking services. They probably didn’t have dream women in their database, and he was feeling a little nervous about telling them exactly what he wanted in a one-night companion. He read over the card again. “I’ll say I want to interview a personal assistant for one night to accompany me on a possible business trip.”

He began to state his needs. “Attractive, understanding, somewhat petite female,” he typed happily. “For a big-hearted cowboy who needs a special companion. She needs to have a good sense of humor, too.”

It sounded like a personals ad. They weren’t going to be fooled. It also sounded like he was looking for an artificial female.

“Okay, let’s try the truth. I want an easygoing woman,” he typed. “Easygoing is key.”

“That’s my problem,” he said with a sigh. “I’m always worrying about being heavy-handed. My brothers would just fire this puppy off and never think twice about sounding like tree dwellers.”

Well, Tarzan he wasn’t, but he wanted a Jane for one night. A Jane he’d practically designed himself. “There are bigger sins on the planet than being a male chauvinist. Here goes nothing,” he said and hit the Send key.

IN JULIA FINEHURST’S office at the Honey-Do Agency, Kelly Stone was in charge while her boss was sick. She’d just logged the final client and picked up her extralarge purse to leave for the weekend when she remembered she hadn’t turned off the computer.

She bent to click the screen closed and saw that a new e-mail had popped up. The Jefferson Union Junction ranch return address caught her eye, and she opened the message. Kelly got a lot of news from her mother, Helga, whenever Julia wrote to check on her employee.

“My name is Fannin Jefferson,” Kelly read. “I need a personal assistant for one evening.”

She laughed. “Oh, that’s a new one. Why don’t you just say you need a date?”

She seated herself in the chair to read the rest of the request. From everything her mother had told her, the wild boys of Malfunction Junction did not have to go hunting for women. Women knocked those boys over any chance they could. Her mother had mentioned thongs in the mailbox and bras hanging off the front doorknob, all inscribed with phone numbers, names or addresses.

“Attractive, understanding, somewhat petite female,” she read. “Mr. Jefferson, you are obviously way too proud of yourself. You want to order the moon to spec, and say it’s a job. Then you can fire my employee when she doesn’t meet your lofty requirements.”

No one would describe Kelly as attractive or petite. She had her mother’s German genes, which showed in her robustness, and her Irish father’s red hair, neither of which brought men running to her side.

“Needs to have a good sense of humor,” she read out loud. Blinking, she thought about all the women the agency had on file: mothers, secretaries, teachers, even a mathematician. It wouldn’t be hard to find someone dainty for him, even though the agency’s matchmaking file was small. Yet it wouldn’t be fair to send the women out on a false lead to a persnickety, overimpressed-with-himself cowboy who maybe had no intention of being any nicer to his “assistant” than he was to Kelly’s mother.

“Mr. Smooth Operator,” she murmured. “Ordering Dream Date Barbie so you can send her back after you’ve looked under her skirt. No, I don’t think so, Lascivious Ken.”

Maybe Kelly would go there herself.

She knew her mother was homesick. She had been worried enough to threaten to come visit the ranch and slap those wily cowboys into line herself if they didn’t start appreciating Helga. It hurt Kelly’s feelings that her mother was sad, especially during the Christmas season. A job was a job, but her mother had been at the Jefferson household for nearly a year now.

“My mother has a heart of gold,” Kelly said, peering into her oversize purse. “Those cowpokes ought to know that by now. Obviously, they’re not too bright. Isn’t that right, Joy?”

Kelly pulled out her very red, very opinionated teacup poodle, a sweet baby who had bonded with Kelly instantly upon the dog’s rescue from the local animal shelter.

“Miss Joy,” Kelly said, “what do you think about a road trip to visit Grandma?”

Joy quivered in her hands. Kelly adjusted the poodle’s little sweater and fake-diamond collar as she thought about Fannin’s request.

“It’s only one night,” Kelly said to the poodle. “There’s nothing on our dance card for tonight or tomorrow. Mama’s homesick, and we can cheer her up. And it wouldn’t hurt this ornery cowboy too much if his order isn’t exactly fit-to-fill. We just won’t charge him while we teach him to mind his manners better where your grandma is concerned. Or better yet, we could double bill him! He’d deserve it, the rat, even though Julia wouldn’t allow it.”

Joy licked Kelly’s hand. No crime was being committed if every tiny detail wasn’t perfect for Fannin Jefferson.

Kelly reread the e-mail. “Good sense of humor,” she repeated, switching off the computer and getting up from the chair. She turned out the lights. “Gee, cowboy, hope you don’t mind a little joke being played on you.”

“I’VE THOUGHT OF A WAY to get rid of Helga,” Archer said smoothly. “This is so easy we should have thought of it before.”

“Mason likes her. At least she keeps him reasonably happy. For years, we’ve dreamed of him getting off our cases. What’s the point of changing a good thing?” Calhoun asked.

“We could have a new housekeeper. We could talk one of the Union Junction Salon girls into coming over here to work for us,” Navarro said reasonably.

“Yeah,” Bandera agreed, flipping some cards onto the table. “Give me an ace out of the deck, Last.”

“May I just point out that whatever you do to Helga will adversely affect Mimi,” Last said. The youngest brother, he was prone to clear thinking at times and steering his brothers on many occasions. “Mimi needs help with her dad. The sheriff hasn’t improved in months.”

“Mimi’s happily pregnant,” Crockett pointed out. “I mean, have you seen the size of her lately? She looks like she swallowed the Great Pumpkin. Marriage clearly agrees with her.”

“I dunno,” Last said. “I don’t think she’s all that happy.”

The brothers stared at him.

“Then let Mimi hire Helga, since Mimi hired Helga for us in the first place,” Archer said, annoyed. “That’s the proper thing to do, and it was what I was going to suggest. Mimi needs Helga more than we do. Mimi sneakily hired Helga in here to keep Mason occupied. But now Mimi’s married, so Mason is free to shake loose of those shackles. I say this is the right solution for everyone. And I want to get up in the morning and look at a face that’s young and beautiful and smiling. Instead of scouring me.”

“Scouring you?” Bandera asked. “Do you mean souring you?”

“No. I mean scouring me. I put my elbows on the table and she scours me with her eyes. I put my feet on the coffee table, she scours me. I leave clothes lying on the floor in my room, and she scours me. It’s like being assaulted daily by a Brillo pad.”

“She doesn’t have to clean our houses, just Mason’s,” Calhoun pointed out. “She doesn’t have to take care of anyone except Mason, since he’s really the one who wants her.”

“Archer has a good theory,” Last said slowly. “I never thought of it before, but with four less of us on the ranch, we don’t need as much help as we did. Mimi’s got her sick dad and a baby on the way. We could offer Helga’s services to the Cannadys.”

Archer sighed with relief. “I just knew you’d see it my way.”

Fannin walked in, tossing his hat on the table.

“Any luck?” Last asked him. “Call out the harpist yet to serenade the hooved lovers with romantic music?”

“Shut up,” Fannin demanded.

“We’ve got a plan we need your vote on, ornery one,” Bandera said. “How would you feel about us giving Helga to Mimi as a baby gift?”

Fannin grinned. “Now that’s the first positive thing y’all have said all day. The sooner the better!”

He fixed himself some lunch, feeling much better about life in general. The phone rang in the kitchen. “Fannin Jefferson,” he said.

A soft voice said, “Mr. Jefferson? This is the Honey-Do Agency calling to confirm and fill your order.”

He scrambled with the phone, the sandwich he’d fixed and a notepad into the farthest corner of the kitchen so his nosy brothers couldn’t hear. The minute they realized he was trying to have a private conversation, they grouped around him, listening.

“Do you mind?” he demanded of them.

“Mr. Jefferson?” the voice asked.

He couldn’t help noticing that the voice was sweet. But confident. “Just a moment, please. I’m having some interference here.”

“I’m on a cell phone,” the sweet voice said. “I’m afraid the line is breaking up. Can you meet your date in town, to help her get to the ranch?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “How about we meet at Lampy’s Bar on the square?”

“I’ll tell her,” the voice said. “Nine o’clock all right?”

“It’s fine.” He shooed his brothers away. “Um, does that mean that tonight is the one night she’s going to be my personal companion?”

“Well, no, Mr. Jefferson,” the voice said with a laugh. “You can keep her as long as you need to, if you accept her,” the woman said. “This is just an interview, is it not? Since your needs were pretty specific.”

He recognized he was being teased and wasn’t sure what to think about it. The woman’s voice was giving him a strange buzz, almost as if she were blowing kisses into his ear.

“Normally, billing would begin in the morning, at eight o’clock. However, we feel it’s important that your assistant finds you to her liking, as well. You understand.”

There was that subtle laughter in her voice again. Fannin turned to face the kitchen wall so that his brothers couldn’t read his expression. “It’s business, not pleasure,” he stated, lying through his teeth but not wanting to seem like a man who needed to call up for a private companion. Damn, but this was getting complicated. He’d have to find her some typing to do.

Why did I let my brothers goad me into dialing up a date?

“Goodbye,” the voice said, and the line went dead.

“Oh crap!” Fannin said to himself. “I forgot all about my date tonight!”

“You have a date?” Last asked quickly.

“The Helga date. Remember? I promised to take her into Dallas.” Rattled by getting a callback from the agency so quickly, he’d forgotten about Helga. “What plans do you have tonight?” he asked his brothers.

They shifted uncomfortably.

“You know, since you’re plotting to get rid of her, this ought to make you feel better,” Fannin said. “Be nice to her before you boot her.”

“You don’t like her, either,” Last said.

“No,” Fannin agreed. “I don’t think that’s a reason to plot her unemployment, though.” He sighed. “However, I’m putting my vote in with this plan just because I do think she’d be happier taking care of a baby, the sheriff and Mimi than you ungrateful lot. Who’s going to tell Mason what you’re up to?”

Archer stood. “You are?”

“Me? Why would I? I didn’t hatch this scheme.” He wasn’t going to have any part of telling Mason that the one person who made him happy was going to have to find new digs next door.

Crockett kicked back in the chair, balancing it on its legs. “If you want us to take Helga out tonight so that you can go wherever it is you’re going, we think it’s only fair you talk to Mason.”

They had a point, even if it was blackmail. Fannin pursed his lips. The lady on the phone had sounded so sexy. Of course, that wasn’t his date, but if his date was anything like the bearer of that voice…his ears would be the happiest part of his body.

At least until he could talk her out of her clothes.

“Deal,” he said reluctantly. “You butt-heads.”

The brothers slapped each other’s hands while Fannin looked on sourly.

“Freedom, here we come!” Navarro yelled.

“Ding-dong, the witch is dead!” Bandera howled.

Annoyed, Fannin left the room, comforting himself with the thought that he’d soon be at Lampy’s Bar meeting his dream date. Picked just for him, by the sexy-sounding secretary.

He just wished he didn’t feel like such a Judas.

Chapter Two

If Kelly felt any remorse over deceiving Fannin Jefferson, it dissipated immediately when she saw the tall, lanky cowboy lounging against a lamppost outside Lampy’s Bar. “Mr. Jefferson?”

He nodded, straightening to his full height, which Kelly was gratified to note was taller than her full height. She was no small, delicate thing, standing nearly six feet without the small, stacked heels on the winter boots she was wearing. “I’m Kelly Stone,” she said. “Your personal assistant.”

She saw hesitation in his gaze—then realized that hesitation had turned to something else as he took her hand.

“Hello,” he said, his voice deep and stirring. “Thanks for coming all the way out here.”

Oh, she didn’t want to be attracted to him. But his hand warmed her chilled fingers and his voice settled her nerves. This big man carried security in every inch of his frame, and she responded to it like a lost calf.

“I’m not the petite, cheery blonde you ordered. That was what you requested, wasn’t it?” Kelly asked, her words speeding as he let go of her hand.

A grin spread across his face. “No. You’re not what I ordered. But I don’t think I knew what I wanted.”

She stared at him. He was tall, dark, handsome. So cliché. Candy for females. Dark hair settled around his chin. Didn’t the man believe in haircuts? She couldn’t see whether he had a bald spot hiding under his hat, but she doubted it. The man had too much confidence to be hiding any flaws. His chin was firm and strong, his lips full and sensual. She liked his lips best, if she ignored that his chest was as wide as Ohio. His eyes were shaded enough by the hat so that he looked mysterious. Marlboro man come to life, except he stood in the misty night as if he’d never seen a woman as beautiful as she.

Everything her mother had said about the wild Jefferson boys reverberated in her ears. Yet her body was responding in the strangest way to this man. Didn’t mother always know best? Helga wouldn’t want her daughter getting a crush on a Jefferson male. She would warn Kelly that nothing good could come of it. “I suppose you’re perfectly horrid,” Kelly said, “or else you wouldn’t have to order a personal companion. There must be lots of ladies in this town who would be willing to ‘work’ for you.”

He winked at her. “Yeah.”

“Yeah what? You’re horrid or lots of ladies applied for the job? When do you fill me in on my supposed duties?”

He laughed, taking her arm. “Come on. You look cold.”

A small bark reminded Kelly of her manners. “I’m sorry,” she told the cowboy. “This is Joy.” She took the small red poodle out of her bag, holding Joy up so that Fannin could see her. “Do you think Mr. Lampy will mind a dog in his bar?”

Fannin took Joy from her, slipping the tiny dog inside his jacket. “Now he won’t.”

Kelly hesitated, shocked that Joy had gone so willingly. Her spoiled and opinionated baby didn’t like anyone. Even more surprising, the cowboy wasn’t irritated that she’d brought a pet. Suddenly she felt guilty that she hadn’t been honest with him about who she was. She should tell him. Certainly this brother couldn’t have been disrespectful of her mother’s feelings.

Then again, Helga had said the Jeffersons were an extraordinarily charming lot.

That didn’t change the reality, either, that as soon as Fannin found out she was Helga’s daughter, the pumpkin coach was going to leave the curb. But Fannin was staring at her like she was something special, someone attractive and meaningful whose company he was enjoying. And that wasn’t a feeling a six-foot redhead usually got from a man.

Dishonesty was going to have to work for just a while longer. A little more starry glow—before she had to put away the fairy-tale props.

“Everything all right?” Fannin asked. “You look like something’s not good.”

“Everything is good,” Kelly replied quietly.

Too good.

FANNIN WAS HAVING a hard time not staring at the statuesque redhead as she tossed a dart with strength and accuracy toward the wall target. “There you go,” he said. “You can’t do any better than that.”

She sipped her wine and nodded. “Pretty good for never having thrown darts before.”

“How old are you?” Fannin asked. He had to know. She seemed so fresh and young and cheerful.

“Thirty. You?”

“Thirty-six now. Had a birthday.”

“Happy one?”

“Yeah. Our housekeeper baked me a cake. It was nice. No one’s done birthday cakes in our house in years.”

Her brows rose. “That was nice of your housekeeper.”

He nodded. “German chocolate cake, even, from scratch. Old family recipe. It was wonderful.”

Kelly’s eyes widened. “Did she know you liked it?”

He thought that was an odd question but skipped it. “Of course. She tries hard.” He hoped Helga was having fun in Dallas and that his dunderhead brothers were being kind to her. “Another wine?”

“No, thanks. If you don’t mind, it was a long drive and—”

“Of course,” he said hastily. Why had he kept her out so late? This wasn’t a date. Well, it sort of was, secretly, but she was a professional, a working woman who was on the clock at eight in the morning. Dang! He still needed to think of a job for her to do.

How was he going to get her to go out with him again? This was probably the type of woman who would say she didn’t mix business with pleasure, so he’d probably screwed himself royally.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Kelly said to him, “but I never mix business with pleasure. And I’m having way too much fun tonight. You know?”

He stared at her. His brothers were wrong; he hadn’t lost his touch with women! He just needed the right one. Or a right one. Problem was the business and pleasure comment. If he fired Kelly tonight, would she go out with him tomorrow night?

Probably a very bad idea. “Come on,” he said. “Let me take you home to bed.”

She looked at him patiently, her eyes large and dark in the dim bar, and he hoped she could overlook his major Freudian slip.

“I meant, let me take you home so you can get to bed.”

She nodded. “I knew what you meant.”

“Good,” he said, chuckling nervously. “Because I wouldn’t want you to think I mean—”

“You were very clear about what you wanted,” Kelly reminded him. “A personal companion. Petite. Sense of humor. Nothing like me. So I feel safe with you.”

Guess again, Little Red Riding Hood, he thought. That voice of hers drove him nuts. He wanted to go to sleep with that voice whispering to him; he wanted to hear her— “Hey, you called the house earlier, didn’t you?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming out for the job?”

“I don’t know.” Her gaze dropped for a second. “I guess I wouldn’t have come out if you’d sounded like a horse’s ass.”

“Why would I be a horse’s ass?”

She shrugged.

“You’re not a man-hater, are you? One of those crazy females who think all men are scum?” His brothers’ advice came to mind, floating eerily in his memory. He was too easy, too kind, too gentle. He usually got left with empty sheets while his brothers set beds afire.

Kelly’s glance slid away from him. He checked her fingers. No rings. But the poodle shifted in his jacket, snuggling closer to his warmth. Would an unmarried woman come all the way out here for one day’s worth of employment? He frowned. Something wasn’t right here.

“I don’t hate men,” she said. “I’m just careful around…men I don’t know.”

That sounded plausible, even prudent. Still, unease washed away the former comfort he’d felt with Kelly. She could be blowing him off—killing him with professional kindness. “I suppose the agency wouldn’t have sent you out here if they felt like we mistreated our employees. We’ve had one employee for a year, and she’s happy enough.”

Kelly blinked at him.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked.

“Not exactly. Not afraid. Really, caution’s just my nature.”

“Well, have you decided whether or not I’m a horse’s ass?” he asked. “Because you don’t have to come to the ranch if you don’t feel secure.”

“A job’s a job,” she said.

He squinted at her. Last would know which way the wind was blowing for this woman. His brothers would give her little attention and make her hungry by starvation.

One minute she’d seemed very warm for him. The next, cool as the weather outside.

She was just his type, even if he’d never known he preferred Amazonian redheads. In fact, she was steaming the creases right out of his jeans. He didn’t want her to lose interest in him.

Princess had ignored Bloodthirsty Black—and vice versa. No Pow! At least at first sight. His brothers understood Pow!

It was time to change his ways. “C’mon,” he said gruffly. “You’ve got a hard day’s work ahead of you tomorrow. You’re going to need all the rest you can get.”

He was rewarded by a flash of disappointment on Kelly’s face. Then she nodded. Directing her toward his truck, he said, “You’ll be able to follow me easily, even though it’s dark. I’ll drive slow. We’ll be at the ranch in about twenty minutes. Pay close attention to the road markings, so that when you leave tomorrow night, you’ll remember your way.”

There. Business totally unmixed from pleasure.

He had her on the run. His brothers would be proud.

KELLY WISHED SHE didn’t feel so guilty! Fannin was so much more man than she’d expected him to be—and he was making her nervous. False pretenses were obviously not her game. She sighed, watching the truck ahead carefully. Fannin was a careful driver, and he seemed equally careful with his heart. What had possessed her to say that he might be a horse’s ass? The moment she had, he’d gone distant on her. She hated that! She was always sticking her size-ten shoe in her mouth.

Then she’d had to fall back on the professional excuse, so it wouldn’t seem like she’d been chasing him when all he wanted from her was a day’s worth of work. What had gotten into her to stand there drooling like a madwoman? If her mouth hadn’t run off with her chances, she would have been in danger of losing all self-respect and throwing herself at that poor unsuspecting man.

Wouldn’t he have been surprised to find her wrapped around him like a well-worn sweater? “Maybe all he really wants is a secretary, Kelly. You assumed he wanted a date, even though he never asked for a date. You thought he was going to make a move on you, and when he didn’t, your sex signals tripped a major breaker. You need to settle down and be professional, be a good representative of Julia’s Honey-Do Agency.”

Joy had certainly not carried any inhibitions. Her baby was still in Fannin’s jacket, nice and warm and secure. Of course, things were a lot less complicated in the animal world. Dogs didn’t bog themselves down with overthought. They looked for love and comfort, and they got it where they could. “Of course, I can’t exactly fit into his pocket,” Kelly murmured. Nor his life.

Then she noticed he was stopping up ahead, suddenly. She thought she had the steering wheel firmly in her hands, but she must have been trembling. The car went over something hard and bumpy in the road, something large, and the steering wheel jerked from her fingers. Gasping, she overcompensated and slid into the ditch. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Mentally, she checked for broken anything—everything felt fine. Except her pride, of course, as Fannin’s truck door slammed on the embankment above her.

“You all right?” he called.

Not if you count my humiliation level. “I’m fine,” she called back.

“Anything hurt?” Fannin slid on his feet toward the car and opened her door to gingerly help her out. “Move slowly. Make sure everything’s in one piece.”

“I’m fine,” she said weakly, becoming more unsettled now that the adrenaline was wearing off. “I hit something.”

“A deer.”

“A deer! I didn’t see a deer.”

“It’s lying on its side in the road. Probably was meandering across when someone accidentally hit it. That happens around here sometimes. You’re lucky it was just a small one.”

She shuddered. “How come you didn’t hit it?”

“I saw it, but my truck’s set up higher than your car. I didn’t have time to warn you.”

His fingers felt good as they massaged her neck, her shoulders, her arms, checking her over and steadying her. “I’m fine, really. It was my own stupidity. My mind was a million miles away. I saw you stop, but my reaction was slow.”

“You wouldn’t have been expecting a deer in the road,” he said kindly.

All she wanted to do was melt into his arms. “Where’s Joy?”

“I left her up in the truck. She’d made a nest in my jacket and was perfectly happy not to come back out into the cold. Are you sure you’re fine?”

Looking up at him, she said, “Well, having never hit a deer before, I think I’m woozy.”

He frowned. “Woozy?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that funny? I feel light-headed.”

“Maybe you have a concussion.”

She could hear the instant worry in his voice. “No,” she said slowly, “I didn’t hit my head. I think I’m just envisioning poor Bambi—”

“Hey.” He took her into his arms and held her close. “Don’t think about it, okay? The deer was dead and didn’t feel a thing. You didn’t hurt the deer. In fact, I heard a rumor that it was an evil deer, out looking for little forest creatures to lure from their warm, snug homes. You did the world a favor. Okay?”

“Evil deer?” But she giggled, in spite of herself. “Thanks. I’m feeling better now.” More from his chest and his solid warmth than his silliness, but that felt good, too.

“Good. We’re going to leave your car here, until I can come back with my brothers so they can help me tow it back up this embankment.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want you to go to the trouble. I’ll call a service.”

He laughed, and she loved the sound of it coming from deep in his chest.

“We are the service in this town. Didn’t you see the size of my truck?”

“I hadn’t looked.” She’d only been looking at him.

“Other people buy bling-bling. We bought the biggest trucks they had on the market. Therefore, we became the towing service by default. We even pulled Shoeshine Johnson’s bus out of the pond when it slipped in.”

“How does a bus slip into a pond?” This man was telling her whoppers just to get her to calm down, and it was working better than wine.

“That’s a story for another time. Come on. I need to get you warm. Easy up the hill,” he said, more carrying her than letting her walk.

“I’m fine, Fannin. I can walk. Really.”

“Yeah, but it feels good to push on your behind. Unprofessional, but we’re outside of working hours. Right?”

She giggled. “I guess so.” The feel of his hands all over her was too good to complain about, anyway. He made her feel dainty.

“In fact, I’m grateful to that evil deer. Without him, I wouldn’t be having this much fun.”

He helped her into the truck, tucking a blanket around her legs. As promised, Joy was nestled into his jacket, completely undisturbed by the excitement her mother had just suffered. “Thank you,” Kelly said. “I’m perfect now.”

Nodding, he said, “You were perfect from the start.”

And then he leaned in to kiss her, just a soft kiss, but it started fireworks in her heart. Kelly groaned, wishing she didn’t feel her self-control slipping, but she did and she wanted more. Suddenly, the redhead inside of her took over as she turned her legs to the edge of the seat and locked them around his waist.

“Kiss me, cowboy,” she said. “Kiss me like you’re on fire for me.”

“I think I burst into flames when I had my hand on your butt,” he said before kissing her hard. “I know parts of me were definitely not feeling the wind chill.”

She moaned, a sigh of pleasure, but he pulled away to look into her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not hurting anywhere?”

Only my heart, she thought, and then she pulled him back to her mouth. “I want you,” she said against his lips.

He stiffened with surprise, but only for a second. Then he shoved her skirt up her legs, rubbing her thighs above her knee-high boots. “Are you sure? You’re okay with this?”

I’m as okay with this as any thirty-year-old redheaded, six-foot woman could ever be. She had hot, horny cowboy between her legs—he was such a strong man—she’d never be in this fantasy again in her whole life. “I know I’m not what you ordered, but—”

“Forget what I ordered. I’d say you more than meet the requirements,” he said gruffly, unbuttoning her ladylike sweater. “You’re too beautiful for words. You should always wear sweaters.”

She giggled, slightly nervous about her size. He unsnapped her red bra from the back and then buried his face in her breasts as if he hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks, and Kelly relaxed, throwing her head back, gasping as he feasted. She ran her fingers over his shoulders, burying them in his hair and knocking his hat to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” she said, but he stopped her apology and awkwardness by kissing her until she was breathless. A storm rose inside her, and she squeezed her eyes shut until she felt his fingers stroking inside her thighs, creeping inside her red thong. She was slick, and that was embarrassing, so she shifted, trying to pull her legs together so he wouldn’t find out. But he did. And he groaned, loud, deep, and Kelly stiffened, wondering if he was disappointed. Turned off.

But he slipped his fingers inside her, his mouth all over hers, his tongue licking inside her, and all Kelly could do was hang on to him as he pushed her to some edge she’d never been to before. Wave after wave of pleasure hit her, freezing her unexpectedly, making her cry out against his mouth.

He moved his hands to shove his jeans down, but he didn’t remove his mouth from hers. In fact, he seemed to kiss her harder, as if he needed her for his very breath. She heard something like paper tearing, and Fannin muttered, “It’s old, but please, let it still have staying power,” and the next thing she knew, he’d moved his hands to her hips and was slowly pulling her thong down her thighs. She didn’t make him do any more of the work after the thong left his hands. Moving to the very edge of the seat, she took hold of him, guiding him to her opening. He groaned again, that deep sound she loved, and then he entered her, his own passion making him thrust eagerly.

Stars of pain blinded her, but she didn’t cry out. She clutched his shoulders tighter, wrapping her strong legs tightly around him, loving the feel of his passion for her. Tears came to her eyes and fell down her cheeks, but they were soaked up by the flannel of his shirt.

And then he cried out, a sound unlike anything she’d ever heard. When he slumped against her, she cradled his head to her. “Fannin?” she whispered after a moment.

“Mmm?”

“Are you all right?”

He kissed her lips tenderly. “Yeah. You?”

She was sore but happy. “Fine.”

“You’re pretty resilient for a woman who drove down an embankment.”

She smiled into his eyes. “I come from sturdy stock.”

“I’ll say.”

Her gaze lowered as she remembered her mother. What would she think if she saw her daughter throwing herself at a Jefferson male like this—any man, for that matter? Slowly, she reclasped her bra and buttoned her sweater while he pulled his own clothes together.

“I…can’t find your, um—”

“It’s okay,” she said quickly, not wanting him to mention her thong. Rearranging her skirt, she pulled her knees forward into the cab.

He shut the door.

Kelly closed her eyes. Oh, Lord. Fannin was everything she’d ever wanted in a dream-come-true sexual fantasy. Of course. That’s what her mother had said: the Jefferson men had that effect on women. She remembered the stories. Desperate women. All wanting exactly what she’d wanted. The brothers acted like horses’ patoots, and the women chased them down anyway, so they never had to change their ways. An occasional brother got caught, but not often.

Fannin was going to be very unhappy when he discovered who she was.

And now, with her car in the ditch, she couldn’t back out and go on her merry, anonymous way.

Chapter Three

“Fannin,” Kelly said, her voice tight. But Fannin held up a hand, then started the truck.

“Hang on,” he said.

They sat and listened. He could feel Kelly staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “I thought I heard something.”

“Maybe it was my conscience ticking,” she said. “Fannin, I should have told you this sooner—”

“That’s what I thought.” He grinned at her.

“What’s what you thought?”

“Hear that sound?”

“No…”

The low, roaring sound backed up behind them. He whipped around to peer out the back window. “That would be your rescue party.”

“My rescue party?”

“Yeah. While we were driving, I called my brothers to check to make certain they were taking good care of my date.”

“Your date.”

“Helga.” He waved a hand. “It’s not important. Anyway, they were already on their way back. About that time, you slid into the ditch. I mentioned they might swing through here on their way home and see if they could pull your car out.” He turned to grin at her. “Of course, I thought we’d be long gone by now.”

She looked a bit pale in the darkness of the truck interior. Whoops filled the background as the brothers stared down into the ditch. The sound of the two truck motors behind them was loud enough to unsettle owls. He could see why this fragile girl would be unnerved by all of it. “Don’t worry. My brothers won’t eat you. C’mon and meet the family.”

Fannin hopped out of the truck. Kelly went out her door, coming around to the truckbed. Most of his brothers were staring down into the ditch, except for Last. And Helga, of course, probably because she was too smart to get that close to a slick edge.

“Kelly!” Helga cried out.

Kelly went flying into his housekeeper’s arms. Last glanced at Fannin in surprise. Fannin shrugged, mystified. The two women embraced as if they’d known each other forever.

Finally, Kelly turned. “Fannin, this is my mother, Helga.”

“My baby,” Helga said.

Only Kelly was no baby. At least he sure didn’t think so. Fannin felt his jaw sagging. “Baby?” he repeated dumbly. “Mother?”

Last turned to him. “I think that tall redhead who was in your truck said that Helga was her mother.”

Fannin’s heart caved. “That can’t be possible. That would not be a good thing at all.”

Last shook his head. “I wouldn’t want those genes, either.”

“No, you don’t understand. I—” Fannin halted. “I mean, that would put me in a very bad spot.”

“Did you know who she was? How did you meet Helga’s daughter?” Last asked.

Fannin shook his head, thinking through their conversations on the phone and in person. Had Kelly ever mentioned it? He was positive he’d remember something like Helga is my mother.

“Dude. How are you going to fire her now?” Last asked.

“Fire who?” Fannin’s thoughts were so tangled, he couldn’t keep anything straight.

“Helga. Remember? We took her out tonight for the last supper, so to speak, so that you could meet your dream date—great choice, by the way, Helga’s daughter and all. Makes for weird drama, doesn’t it, bro?” Last slapped him on the back. “And in return for us giving up our time, you were going to speak to Mason about punting Helga over to Mimi’s house.”

Fannin felt ill. “I don’t think I can exactly do that now.”

“You have to! It was…dude, you don’t understand what it was like taking Helga into Dallas. She wanted to stop and look at every point of interest, every history marker between here and there. We gave up on the movie and took her to a German restaurant instead. She had a blast, by the way.”

“I’m going to have to renege.” He felt fairly certain that one didn’t sleep with a daughter and then turn around and fire the mother. That would not be cricket. It would definitely put him in bad with Kelly, a place he did not want to be. That redhead had given him a wicked treat—and he definitely had plans for winning more of the same.

“You can’t renege.” They looked on as Kelly took her mother carefully to the side of the road to peer over, watching the brothers swarm her little car to assess the damage and develop retrieval scenarios.

“I have to. Last, I can’t do it.”

“Why? You don’t…you don’t like her, do you?”

“Helga? No more than you do, but—”

“That girl.” Last stared at him. “You don’t have the hots for Helga’s daughter, do you?”

Fannin wanted to crawl under a rock to get away from Last’s piercing gaze. “She’s a really nice girl.”

Last gasped. “You realize you’re putting yourself on the road to ruin, brother. Intervention may be required. You haven’t thought this through.”

“Hell, I haven’t thought about anything! I just now found out myself!”

“Whatever you do,” Last said, drawing close enough so that no one could hear him, “do not sleep with her. Understand? If you’re not capable of thinking this through, then let me explain it to you in simple turns. H-e-double-hockey-sticks-ga would be your mother-in-law.”

Fannin felt Last’s sincerity blazing from his eyes.

“And if you don’t know what they say about nosey, interfering mothers-in-law, you can dial up Frisco Joe and ask him what he had to do to get away from her when he was laid up with a busted leg.”

“I remember,” Fannin muttered.

“And mothers-in-law.” Last shuddered, waving his hands for emphasis. “They are the fount of the future. You can see everything in that fount. Look closely, bro. That’s what your bride would look like someday.”

Fannin blinked at Last’s intensity.

“And you know what they say about getting along with the in-laws and the out-laws. If you did such a thing, Fannin, that would put Helga in our family forever. Forever. She’d be ours.” Last hung his head dramatically. “I could not endure it.”

Fannin felt bad for his brother, even though he was a maestro of soap opera effects—until Last kicked at something on the ground.

“What’s this?” Last asked, turning over a piece of red, lacy stuff on the ground with his boot.

“Nothing,” Fannin said, bending to scoop Kelly’s errant thong into his pocket.

“Looked like a…thong to me,” Last said, his voice amazed. “Wouldn’t that be strange? You see shoes all the time sitting in the middle of the road, sometimes one, sometimes two, and I always wonder who they belong to. Who so carelessly abandoned them?”

Kelly came walking back over to the truck with Helga, and Fannin growled, “Last, shut up.”

“Seriously. Someone needs to do a study on how shoes get into roads, particularly at intersections in big cities. They’re almost a tourist attraction in themselves. Sometimes they’re hanging from telephone wires like they just got up there by themselves. I know the world is changing now that it’s undergarments in the road….”

Kelly’s eyes went wide, and Fannin was relieved that Helga didn’t speak enough English to understand. “Shut up, Last,” he reiterated, this time his voice steely.

And then Last did shut up, his eyes first on Fannin because of the tone and then sliding to Kelly’s mortified expression. “Oh, brother,” Last said. “Aha. I have once again allowed my philosophical side to get the best of me. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go attach myself to the towing hitch.”

He left. Fannin felt Kelly looking at him, but he couldn’t look at her—not with her mother standing next to her and Kelly’s red lace burning in his pocket like the world’s worst-kept secret.

SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS were easily solved once they got back to the house. Helga slept in quarters in the main house and Kelly would sleep with her mother. Only Mason remained at the big house, with Laredo, Tex and Frisco Joe having vacated the premises upon their marriages.

“You are staying awhile?” Helga asked her daughter, comfortable with chatting now that they were in her room and could speak German.

“Only one day,” Kelly replied. “I don’t have time off, and Julia’s been out sick.” She started to say that Fannin had ordered a personal assistant, and she’d chosen to fill the job since it was a Friday and wouldn’t hurt for her to be gone, but as far as Helga was concerned, Kelly was here to see her.

“Oh, I miss you,” her mother said.

“For Christmas, I have three days to spend with you. You’re going to come to my house,” Kelly promised.

“Three days?”

“Julia’s sick and has been taking extra days off to get her Christmas shopping done. The office hasn’t been that busy. So she said I could take three days over the holidays.”

“How will I get to Diamond?”

“I’ll come and get you. Don’t worry, Mother. You just tell Mason you need to come home for Christmas. We’re going to do lots of baking.”

“Baking.” Helga smiled. “It will be nice for a change to cook for someone who likes what I make.”

Kelly frowned. “I know you’ve been homesick.”

Her mother nodded. “Yes. I’m getting used to it here. But the boys are wild.” She gestured with her hands. “They are too long without good women.”

Kelly winced. “Is Fannin wild?”

Helga shrugged. “They’re all bad boys. Except Mason. He’s good. Sometimes.” She laughed.

“Sometimes?”

“I think so. He’s so quiet, his heart is all bottled up inside him.”

“I love you, Mama,” Kelly said, her insides aching for her mother. Even though Helga was speaking in a scolding tone about the brothers, Kelly could see that her mother cared about them, like rowdy chicks she wanted to keep under her wing.

Of course, that’s probably not what they wanted.

“I feel bad that I sent you here, Mama, and that you’re not happy. We have other ladies at the agency we could send. Why don’t you come home and stay with me for a while? We’ll find you another job that you’ll like better. Maybe even one in Diamond?”

“I can’t.” Helga looked down at her fingers. “The lady next door is going to have a baby. She’s a real nice girl. Mimi.”

“I remember seeing Mimi’s name. She’s the one who called about a housekeeper.”

“Yes. She’s over here all the time. I take care of her father when Mimi needs help.”

Kelly frowned. “You’re not really supposed to be doing two jobs, Mama.”

“I don’t mind. I like Mimi.” Helga sighed. “I think Mason is in love with Mimi. I think she’s in love with him, too.”

“But she’s married to someone else?” Kelly asked.

“Yes, and having a baby.” Helga’s eyes glowed. “A Christmas baby. I should be here to help her.”

“You should be home letting me take care of you,” Kelly said sternly, realizing for the first time just how much work her mother had to do at this ranch. “Mama, listen, I got a letter from Dad’s estate—”

Helga held up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about your father. He left me and you alone in Ireland. I made my way here. I learn English, I get some jobs, I raise my daughter. I do not want to talk about your father. He never tried to see you after we left Ireland. I do not care about him.”

“Mama, he left me his house,” Kelly said miserably. “I think I may go see it someday.”

Helga sniffed.

“You’ve seen Germany, Ireland, much of Europe,” Kelly said. “I’ve not been out of the country since I was a little girl. I want to see where my father lived. I’m sorry, Mama. I know that’s hard for you. But I just need to know who I am.”

“I know who you are. You are my baby,” Helga said sternly.

“I know, Mama. But I need to connect with my roots.” She clasped her mother’s hands.

“Your roots never came to you,” Helga said stubbornly. “You are like a potato. You grow your own shoots.”

Kelly dropped her gaze. Her mother could have such a one-track mind. She loved her dearly, but she could definitely see how Helga and the Jefferson men might butt heads. “You go to sleep, Mama. I’m going to stay up and read for a while.”

Helga got into her bed. “Thank you for surprising me with a visit. It’s a long way for you to drive. Good thing Fannin came along to rescue you.”

Kelly sighed. “Good night, Mama.”

Joy, who Kelly had been holding, jumped up beside Grandma, recognizing where peace, comfort and warmth existed. Kelly went into the sitting room of their quarters and peered out the window. Outside, she could see men—she counted six—standing around a metal barrel with a fire blazing inside it. They were warming their hands over the fire and arguing. At least they looked as if they were arguing. She turned out the room lamp, made certain she was secured behind a drape and peered out again.

Fannin appeared to be the object of much of the conversation. Everybody was talking at him, and he just nodded or shook his head. He didn’t look too happy, either. Once, she thought he glanced up at the window where she was, but then he shook his head, and she realized there was no way he could see her spying on him.

She should never have done what she did with him. She should just get up in the morning and make a graceful exit.

Her mother wouldn’t understand that at all.

One by one the brothers left the burning barrel. Only Fannin remained behind, the keeper of the flame. Kelly took a deep breath, then decided to put her conscience to rest by talking to him.

Hurrying downstairs, she slipped outside. Fannin hadn’t moved from his spot. Obviously he was deep in thought.

“Fannin?”

He raised his head. “Hey, Kelly.”

That didn’t sound promising. She stood beside him, her heart quivering inside her. “Fannin, I owe you an apology.”

He looked up. “Good. I owe you one, too.”

She didn’t think she could bear it if he said he was sorry for what happened between them. And yet, of course that’s what he was going to say. How humiliating! The trick, then, was to make her apology and get out before she could hear those words of rejection.

If there was anything she didn’t need in her life, it was for her one and only fantasy to go crashing to pieces.

“Fannin, I should have told you Helga was my mother. I should have been honest with you.”

“I would have liked to have known. Everything might have turned out differently.”

That was all the chance he was going to get at saying he was sorry for their interlude. “Fannin,” she said briskly, “I came out here under false pretenses, so I’ll leave in the morning. I’ll send someone else in my place. Someone who better fits your request. We have plenty of perky, cheery blondes with great sense of humor.” She’d go through every application if necessary to find him a perfect woman.

“Don’t bother,” he said. “I placed the order under false pretenses. I didn’t really have a job for you to do. My brothers made me feel like I couldn’t be successful with a woman, so I ordered a woman with all the perfect qualities of everything I wanted. And then you came along.”

“Well, isn’t it funny how life works out sometimes?” Kelly said brightly.

He didn’t smile, and she decided this wasn’t one of those made-to-order humor moments he’d wanted.

“I deceived you,” he said, “and I apologize. And then I took advantage of you—”

“No, no,” she said swiftly, “I took advantage of you. Clearly, I had the advantage in the advantage.”

“You did not,” he said. “You were a perfect lady. I practically dragged you off by the hair, just like my brothers said a woman liked.”

“And did you hear me complaining? Not one bit. In fact, you may have even noticed how eager I was to shed my—” Kelly stopped, realizing she didn’t want to say what she’d been about to say.

“Clothes. You didn’t shed your clothes. I distinctly remember pulling them off of you.” Fannin shook his head. “I am no gentleman.”

“Oh, but you are,” Kelly said. “Fannin, believe me, I thought you were every bit a gentleman.”

“Not to take my housekeeper’s daughter in my truck. I just hope the condom held. You know, I couldn’t see in the darkness, but it might have been dodgy.”

She frowned. “What does dodgy mean?”

“It means I couldn’t examine it in the darkness. I don’t know for certain that it held.”

“Oh.” She waved that away. “It had to. Nothing else could go wrong in this affair for me. It would be way too…corny. If you had ever told me that I would run over a dead deer, send my car into a ditch and then make love in a truck, I would have said, ‘No way.”’

“I know you would have. I took advantage of the fact that you were clearly in shock.”

“I was shocked,” Kelly murmured, “but only that you wanted me as bad as you seemed to.” The crackling blaze sucked away her words. She should have known he had been responding to goading from his brothers. “Why is there a fire in this barrel, anyway?”

“We’re burning trash.”

“This close to the house?”

“The hoses are closest here.” Fannin didn’t look up at her. “Besides, we’ve done this ten thousand times. We do it often, so the fire doesn’t get too big.”

“I see.” Rural life was clearly not something one just made up the answers to. “Hey, I’m going back inside.”

For the first time, he looked at her. “Kelly, I really am sorry that I wasn’t honest from the beginning.”

“Neither was I.”

“Yeah, but your dishonesty was a lack of information. Mine was outright deceit. You’re the perfect made-to-order woman, by the way.”

She stared at him. “I am?”

“Well, yeah. You’re happy with darts and wine, you don’t get supersqueamish about running over dead animals and you like making out in a truck. I couldn’t have asked for a better date.”

Her mother was right. These men were too wild for her. “Um, thanks, Fannin. Guess that’s all the time we have for apologies now. Think I’ll turn in so I can get up bright and early—”

His hand shot out to catch her arm. She held her breath as his gaze burned into hers. “So, when were you going to confess to being a virgin?”

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