Could have knocked him over with a frayed lasso when he’d seen her come walking along Signal Street. Luckily he’d gotten hold of himself by the time she’d reached him.

During the past ten years, Tess hadn’t changed a bit.

Well…naturally, she’d grown up and filled out.

Still, she had the same shoulder-length tumble of dark curls, the pale skin that gave her away every time she blushed, the sparkling dark brown eyes. She looked up at him again now, those eyes wide, and said not a word.

He glanced down to see her hanging on to her teacup for dear life, it seemed. No wedding band. He wondered about that.

Not that it meant anything to him.

If only he could say the same about the way her fingers had trembled in his when he’d shaken her hand earlier…

Letting go of the death grip on her cup, she transferred her attention to the hem of her yellow shirt. The tug she gave on it pulled the fabric taut against her.

He forced himself to focus on taking a long swallow of his coffee.

“I think I’ve got everything we’ll need.” Her lips curved briefly. “Any last-minute items for your wish list?”

Yeah. A real smile. That one had looked so fake, he wouldn’t have given her a nickel for it. “Nope. That about covers it for now.”

“Then I’ll get back to the office and start working on this. I’m sure we’ll be able to find something to suit you.” She flipped the notebook closed and dropped it into her bag.

When she started to slide out from the booth, he reached for her arm. Warm, soft skin met his palm. Holding her hand outside the office had given him a jolt. This about mule-kicked him across the room.

He pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. “What’s your hurry? Been a long time since the two of us talked.”

“Yes.”

Obviously, if she had her way, it would be an even longer time before they had a proper conversation.

He settled against his seat cushions and stretched his legs out under the table, trying to find a comfortable position. “So, you wound up selling property for a living? Not a bad job. What does your husband do?”

And why the heck had he asked that?

Tess looked as if she wondered the same thing. “I don’t have a husband,” she said, clipping the words.

He frowned. “Last time I saw you, you were planning on getting married.”

“I know,” she said, her voice cold. “It didn’t work out.”

“Yeah. Neither did we.” Again, he’d blurted the response without thinking. This time, though, he knew why. The bitter memory of their last meeting had driven him to speech.

He might as well have waved a red flag in front of her with his words. Her face went as belligerent as a bull getting ready to charge.

“There was no ‘we,’ Caleb. I seem to remember that maybe once there might have been. But you wanted to go off and start winding your way along the rodeo trail. So you did.”

The acid in her tone seemed at odds with the hurt look in her eyes.

Well, he’d had his reasons. And she’d damned well given him another. One guaranteed to keep him away. Jaw clenched, he tried shrugging away the wave of guilt pounding at him. No such luck. He reached for the fresh pot of coffee Dori had brought a few minutes back.

The door to the Double S opened. Glad for the distraction, he looked up and watched a group of little girls roll like tumbleweeds into the place.

On the opposite side of the booth, Tess jerked to attention. He’d swear her face grew paler yet.

“Anything wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head.

She was lying. Something about that little crowd bothered her.

“Excuse me a minute,” she said.

The girls had crossed the café and taken over the row of stools lining the counter in the back of the room. They looked innocent enough. Clean and respectable, too. A big contrast to the kid he’d given the cash to earlier.

The same thing people had thought about him when he’d lived here. He gripped the handle of his coffee mug, trying to get hold of his anger. At that age, neither he nor that kid had the power to control their worlds. Couldn’t folks understand that?

He shook his head and looked again at the girls. Eight, nine years old, maybe. He’d seen plenty like them in his days on the circuit. Just a bunch of giggling kids who cared only about hanging out at the rodeo with their friends. Nothing to worry about with girls that age.

It was the older ones you had to watch out for.

Eyes half-closed, he sat back and admired the view of Tess’s yellow shirt riding above well-fitting khakis as she marched toward the group of girls.

When she came up to them, they swung around on their stools. The sideways glances the four of them shot each other said plainly they hadn’t expected to run into her here.

She leaned close to one of the kids, a pint-size version of Tess with dark curls and a stubborn chin he’d recognized easily. Had to be Tess’s little girl.

All the coffee he’d swallowed that morning suddenly churned in his stomach.

The kid stuck that chin out now and shook her head. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from Tess. Trouble there, for sure.

The girl looked around the room at anyone and anything but her mama. Her gaze zeroed in on him, and her eyes widened to about the size of his competition champion belt buckles.

“Mom, look!” she said in a strangled whisper. She might’ve been trying to keep her voice down, but he could hear her clear across the room. She tugged on Tess’s shirt. “Mom, do you see him?” Her voice rose with every word. She waved her arms frantically at her friends. “Guys—over there, in the corner. That’s Caleb Cantrell.”

The trio surrounding her squealed like a sty full of pigs discovering a replenished trough. A familiar enough sound.

He smiled in satisfaction. Now, this was one group in Flagman’s Folly he wouldn’t need to work at impressing.

All four of them jumped off their stools.

To give her credit, Tess made an attempt to grab hold of her daughter and the girl next to her. They likely didn’t even feel her hands on their shoulders as they slipped from her grasp. At that moment they were driven, with one goal in mind.

Getting to him.

From the look on Tess’s face, she wanted to be anywhere but here.

Carefully, he set his half-full coffee mug aside, moved his Stetson out of reach and braced himself, knowing what would happen next.

The girls headed toward him. No tumbleweeds rolling gently along now. Their eyes shining, their mouths tight with suppressed excitement, they stampeded across the room.

“ALL RIGHT.” Tess looked from one girl to another, stopping at Nate. “You remember that list of chores you promised to do for Miss Roselynn in exchange for the sleepover tonight?”

They all nodded.

“Well, that’s a start.” She had spent more time than she could afford trying to drag their attention away from Caleb.

As rodeo-crazy as Nate and her friends were, she should have known Nate would recognize the champion bull rider immediately. If only the girls hadn’t come into the Double S just when she happened to be there with Caleb. But that was a faint if only—and a useless one. In a town the size of Flagman’s Folly, everyone would run into him sooner than later.

In the minute it took for those thoughts to flash through her mind, the girls had edged closer to Caleb again.

She tensed. “Get started now, girls,” she said. “Miss Roselynn will be waiting for those groceries.”

Even to her own ears, she’d sounded as firm as a blade of wet grass. Looking across the booth at Caleb, she felt just about as sturdy. After this run-in with him, she really needed peace and quiet. And time to practice the calm front she would have to present whenever he was around.

But there wasn’t time enough in the world for that.

Besides, the way he sat smiling at her left no doubt he’d noticed her staring at him. He’d probably already seen right through her. As bad as the girls, she now had to drag her own attention away from the man, who obviously had plenty of experience in the spotlight.

“You’ve got the list for Harley’s,” she reminded Nate and her friends. “And you’ve got the money, too?” At their nods, she added, “Great. Then please get the shopping done—and don’t forget to use the coupons.”

Every penny saved meant a penny more she could use to help her mother put food on the tables at the bed-and-breakfast. The Whistlestop Inn might be empty of guests now, but with any luck, Roselynn would soon have every room occupied. And not by a houseful of chattering girls.

That was all she needed tonight.

After a burst of giggles and goodbyes to Caleb, the group ran toward the door.

One voice rose above the laughter. “’Bye, Mom. See ya later.” The door slammed in her wake.

Tess sank back onto the booth’s bench seat.

“Sleepover?” he asked.

“They’re celebrating school letting out last week.” She exhaled heavily. With the way Nate had behaved lately, she’d skated very close to not having this party. And if things didn’t improve, it could turn into a very long summer.

The thought that Caleb might be there for a good part of it left her choking on her indrawn breath of dismay. She swore she’d do whatever it took to have him on his way as soon as possible. Focusing on him again, she realized she’d missed the beginning of his response.

“—can’t be a bad bunch at all,” he was saying, “if they’re willing to do chores that cheerfully. And your daughter sure takes after you.”

The blood seemed to rush from her head, making her dizzy. There were many subjects she never, ever wanted to discuss with Caleb Cantrell. On a scale of zero to ten, the topic of her daughter ranked at three hundred.

“Yes,” she said shortly. She shoved one shaking hand through her hair. With the other, she picked up her canvas bag as she rose from the bench. “Well, I’ve got your information. Time for me to go and start working on it.”

She turned away and waved a brief goodbye to Dori. The older woman stood with her elbows resting on the counter at the back of the room, taking a much-needed break.

“You’ll come see us again soon?” Dori asked, directing the question to Tess but then quickly looking past her toward Caleb.

Was no female over the age of five immune to the man’s charms?

“I’m sure I will,” Tess said firmly.

“Be a real pleasure, Dori,” he drawled. “For both of us.”

Tess shivered and grabbed the door handle. She didn’t want to share any kind of pleasure with him. Not now or in the future. And she refused even to think about their past.

Once outside, she stopped on the sidewalk near his pickup truck. He had driven them the couple of blocks to the Double S, and the close confines of the truck’s cab had nearly left her hyperventilating. The two blocks had stretched to forty miles.

No way did she want to share that vehicle with him again, either.

“So,” he said, resting against the fender, just as he’d been standing when she had first seen him that morning. “How old is she?”

“Dori?” She pretended to misunderstand, knowing full well what he meant. “I’m not sure. Around my mother’s age, I would guess. Early sixties.”

The deception hurt her. Badly. Because at her response, he grinned, making his green eyes blaze even in the shadow beneath his Stetson’s brim. “I meant that girl of yours.”

“Oh. She’s nine.”

“Nice-looking kid. What’s her name?”

“N-Nate.” Where was he going with this conversation? And why wasn’t she going far, far away in another direction?

“Nate?” He sounded amused. “A real handful.”

She frowned. He’d seen her daughter for all of five minutes, most of which Nate had spent amid the group of girls fawning over him. “What makes you say that?”

“The stubborn jaw.” He reached up and touched her chin with his fingertip. “I’d have known her even if she didn’t have your hair.”

She swallowed hard and backed up a step, her legs threatening to give way beneath her. No, she would not get back in that pickup truck with him—even though it would give her a chance to sit down.

“I’ll be in touch,” she assured him. When cows give orange milk. “I’m sure it won’t take long at all. And…” she held her breath a moment, then rushed on “I’m assuming you’ve reserved a place to stay closer to Santa Fe or Albuquerque.”

His expression hardened. “I’ve got it covered,” he said, his voice rough.

At another time, she might have thought twice about his reaction. Not anymore. “Good,” she said firmly. “There’s no need for you to hang around. I have your cell phone number. And you don’t need to drive me to the office, thanks.”

As she started along the sidewalk, he fell into step beside her. Though he matched his stride to hers, he walked with the stiff gait she had seen when he’d first gotten out of the truck in front of the Double S.

He’d been hurt during a rodeo. Very seriously hurt. The townsfolk had gone into an uproar when they’d learned about it. Nate and her friends had been despondent. Tess had managed to harden her heart against the news. Had tried not to think about Caleb’s aborted career. About his injury. For the most part, she’d succeeded. Until now.

Reading about his accident was one thing. Seeing the results of it right there in front of her was something else. But she couldn’t feel any pity for Caleb. Shouldn’t feel any guilt, either.

Not after they way he had crushed her.

Keeping her gaze forward, she cleared her throat. “I—uh—know the way back on my own.”

“That’s good,” he said. “A successful real estate person like yourself ought to know her way around. In fact, I imagine you’re the perfect person to show me some of the sights in town.”

Shaky legs or not, that brought her to a solid stop. “What are you playing at, Caleb? You were born and raised here, same as I was. You know all the sights there are to see.”

“Maybe. And maybe some things have changed.”

His gaze drifted from her eyes all the way to her toes. An answering shiver rippled its way along the same path, as if he’d run his finger down her body.

“You’ve got more curves than I remember.” He grinned again.

Time to get away from him. “I have to run.” What an understatement.

She needed to get to her office, research the list of his requirements, and find some property for him as quickly as she could—and as far away from Flagman’s Folly as possible.

“Okay.” To her relief, he nodded. “Tell you what. I’ve got some business to take care of, myself. Since yours won’t take long, why don’t I pick you up later? We’ll ride around town a bit. Talk over your prospects at supper.”

The most unlikely prospect she’d ever heard.

The words rested on the tip of her tongue, ready for her to say them. But she couldn’t.

Visions floated into her mind.

Nate. Roselynn. Dana with her three small children but no husband by her side. An Out Of Business notice plastered on the front window of Wright Place Realty. A For Sale sign decorating the lawn of the Whistlestop Inn.

She thought of the commissions she and Dana would earn from the sale of a ranch to Caleb. The sale of a substantial ranch. He’d made it plain he intended to acquire the largest piece of property she could locate. He’d seemed obsessed by the idea of owning a big spread in New Mexico. Strange, when he’d told her he already ran a working ranch in Montana. She’d had to bite her tongue against the question she wanted to ask. Why did he feel such a need to branch out?

Fortunately, she’d kept quiet. What did it matter to her, as long as she managed to find him that ranch clear across the state? She ought to be grateful for his obsession. The income she could earn in satisfying his need would take care of every worry she’d envisioned, for a good long time. She couldn’t afford—literally—to get on the man’s bad side.

If he had one.

Everything she’d seen of him so far looked as good if not better than it had ten years ago.

“Sound all right to you?” he persisted. “You said you’re still living at your mama’s. Can she keep watch on the girls at the sleepover for a while?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes, she can. That sounds fine.”

“Good. I’ll be at your place early, then, around four.”

She nodded and walked away before he could see the expression she knew she couldn’t hide.

How many times as a love-struck teenager had she dreamed about Caleb pulling up to the house to pick her up for a date? Impossible, of course. Her grandfather had made sure of it. Even without Granddad’s rules, she had known the pointlessness of her dream. She and Caleb had kept their relationship secret.

She sighed in frustration.

Back then, she had loved Caleb. Couldn’t get enough of him. Yet he had left her. And now, when she didn’t want the man anywhere near her, she was stuck with him.

The irony of the situation nearly overwhelmed her. But the damage was done. Her world had already caved in earlier that day, the minute he had forced his way into her life again.

Chapter Three

Caleb parked the pickup truck in his choice of spaces behind Tess’s home. Only one other vehicle occupied the parking area, an ancient Toyota with more than its share of dents.

Funny to think he’d come calling here again. Twice in the past, he’d stopped by this place and hadn’t made it beyond the front door. Her granddaddy had seen to that. Getting inside now would bring him a considerable measure of satisfaction.

Still, anger rose at the memory of her granddaddy. The same anger that had bubbled through his veins since he’d first set foot in town this morning. He’d have to watch that. Control that from here on. Anger wouldn’t get him what he wanted from the townsfolk, or from Tess. No, he needed to give them all someone to look up to. Someone they’d respect.

A good storyteller. A bull-riding champ. A rodeo star.

Taking a deep breath, he stared at the clock on the dashboard. Three-fifty. Ten minutes early. Ten minutes to sit here. No sense letting Tess think he was too eager to see her again.

He couldn’t have any illusions about her feelings, that was for sure.

She had looked less than thrilled to see him outside the real estate office that morning, and a good sight more unhappy once she learned why he’d been standing on the doorstep.

What he’d told her of his reasons, anyhow.

Pity she hadn’t been more enthused.

As if she would forget about their past, just because he’d wanted her to. As if he could impress her, just by mentioning money. He’d known he would have to work harder with Tess than with anyone. Maybe he should have started with somebody who’d have accepted his return more readily.

Dori and Manny from the Double S, for instance.

Of everyone in Flagman’s Folly, they were the people he should have harbored some guilt over. Maybe he did, somewhere deep inside. Someplace he couldn’t get to right now. Not while he had grudges to tackle and axes to grind and scores to settle. He had all the bad parts of his past to resolve before he could look to the future.

Coming to the edge of dying had made him realize that. It had humbled him. It had scared the hell out of him. And it had finally made him understand just what all those early years and those bad parts of his past had done to him.

Returning to Flagman’s Folly had to make up for some of that.

He glanced at the dashboard clock again. Time for the show to begin.

He climbed out of the truck and followed the path around the house to the front door. When he had driven by earlier that day, he’d seen the small sign near the sidewalk, proclaiming this the Whistlestop Inn. The sight had surprised him. Another thing that had changed since he’d left town.

Always, he had envied Tess this old house with its two stories, peaked roof and deep porch corralled by rails. A wooden-slatted swing dangled from chains in the porch ceiling. He’d always wanted to sit in that swing, too. It overlooked rows of plants with big pink and yellow and orange blooms and the yard that ran down to the street.

The porch alone took up more footage than that piece of crap trailer he’d lived in growing up.

He stabbed the doorbell and stepped back. Inside the house, he heard chimes, followed by some screeching and a lot of loud laughter. The girls, again.

Smiling, he shook his head. Kids were the same everywhere. Grown-up fans were, too. The autographs he’d signed all across the country proved that.

Abruptly the inner door swung open. Through the screened door, Tess’s dark-brown eyes stared at him from a pint-size height. The kid could almost have passed as Tess’s double. In a few years, grown up, she no doubt would. She’d look amazingly like the Tess he’d left behind.

Now those eyes rounded like the mouth beneath it.

“Better watch it, kid,” he said. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you your face might freeze that way?”

Her features went slack. “Yeah, all the time.” She grinned. “My name’s not kid, Mr. Cantrell. It’s Nate.”

“So I heard. And my name’s Caleb.”

She sucked in a breath. “You mean I can call you that?”

He nodded.

“Wow.”

There went the eyes again. He chuckled. “What’s the deal, if you don’t mind my asking? Nate’s a boy’s name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” She looked down, suddenly shy, the dark curls falling to hide most of her face.

He couldn’t help it. The urge came on him strong to tease her, just as he’d kidded her mama years ago, though Tess had been older then. “Can’t be your real name,” he said. “Come on, give.”

She paused, considering him for a moment, then stared at her feet. “Anastasia,” she hissed, her tone disgusted. She peeked out from under all that hair to see how he was taking the news.

“Hmm.” He nodded thoughtfully. Now that he’d gotten himself into this, how should he handle it? “Well. Sounds like a right pretty name to me.”

“It does?” She looked straight at him again. “Nobody has that name but me.”

“That makes it pretty and special, then, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” Shrugging, she rubbed the toe of one shoe against the floor. “Ya coming in, or are ya just ringing doorbells for fun?”

He had to chomp down for a second on the corner of his lip before he could answer. “Is it fun?”

“Yeah. If nobody catches you.”

“Hmm,” he said again. “Well…” So far, he wouldn’t take any prizes for his conversational skills. Hopefully, he’d have more luck with Tess later. But if he wasn’t talking horses or rodeo, he sure felt at a loss when it came to kids. How could he answer this one? “Considering I did get caught ringing your bell,” he said slowly, “and by you…I’ll have to confess I was planning on coming in.”

“Really? C’mon.” She pushed open the screened door to let him in, then she turned and raced through the foyer. “Hey, guys,” she yelled at a level that could quiet an arena without a bullhorn. “You won’t believe who’s here!”

He stepped into the foyer.

And found Tess staring at him.

She looked good in a tight-fitting Western shirt, almost a twin to his own, but more feminine in pink with a rose at each shoulder. He couldn’t resist getting a full look at her snug jeans and brown cowboy boots.

Eventually, he worked his way up again to confront her unblinking gaze. He had frozen in the act of removing his Stetson. Dang. He was here to impress the woman, not stand gawking at her. Hurriedly, he swept his arm across his waist and bowed. “Well, hey. Didn’t see you standing there, ma’am.” He gestured between them. “The way we’re dressed, we might almost be related.”

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