LITMIR.BIZ

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at the River’s End Ranch.”

      The store clerk raised an eyebrow. “Really? Louisa is one of our best patrons … until recently.”

      “So you know where the ranch is?”

      “Yes, I do.” She nodded to the cowboy. “But I think he can do a better job of giving directions. That’s Louisa’s son, Sloan Merrick.”

      Jade saw the man had started for the door carrying one of the sample books. “Okay, thank you, Jenny,” she called as she hurried across the room, hoping she could follow him out to the ranch.

      He’d just gotten out the door when she called to him. “Excuse me, Mr. Merrick.”

      The man was at his truck. He turned around and was even more handsome close up, and much bigger.

      He frowned as he gave her the once-over, causing a funny reaction in her stomach.

      He straightened. “What do you want?”

      “Huh, well …” She was suddenly nervous. “Jenny Rafferty told me that you’re Sloan Merrick. I was wondering if I could get directions to the River’s End.” She forced a smile. “I have an appointment with Louisa Merrick.”

      He continued to stare, but his eyes narrowed sharply. “The only directions you’ll get from me are to tell you how to leave town.”

      She blinked. “I beg your pardon.”

      He stepped closer. “How much plainer do you need it, lady? Stay the hell away from Merrick land, you aren’t welcome.”

      An hour later, Jade had found her way out to the ranch. She was still fighting the urge to turn and run as she looked past the high wrought-iron gate toward the huge white house perched on the hill.

      Her gaze moved to the miles of split-rail fencing enclosing the many acres of green pastures where Hereford steers grazed on the large southern Texas cattle ranch. She looked up at the archway overhead that read River’s End, owned by the Merrick Family, est. 1904.

      She blew out a breath to slow her heart rate. It didn’t help. Go back to Dallas and forget she’d ever heard the name Merrick. At least one Merrick doesn’t want you here.

      There was still time to change her mind, to forget this crazy idea. Then she’d never learn the truth about herself.

      She pushed the button on the intercom. “Merrick residence,” a woman with a heavy accent answered.

      Jade swallowed the dryness in her throat. “Hello, I’m Jade Hamilton. I have an appointment with Mrs. Merrick.” Her heart pounded hard in her chest. Was she finally going to meet the senator?

      “I’ll open the gate for you. Drive to the main house.”

      Jade climbed back into her car and the gate swung open as Sloan Merrick’s threat echoed in her head.

      “Stay the hell away from Merrick land. You aren’t welcome.” Maybe she would be, or maybe she wouldn’t be, but this was her chance to find out the truth.

      She drove through the gate and tried to enjoy the quarter mile trip as she continued along the road and passed several structures, including a large barn and a corral with a number of horses. There were ranch hands busy with chores. A few of them looked at her, but no one stopped her so she kept on going.

      The house was more impressive the closer she got. The brick and white clapboard, three-story structure with a big wraparound porch was loaded down with huge pots of flowers adding a rainbow of color. She pulled into the circular driveway.

      Grabbing her purse and briefcase she headed up the slate tile walkway to the steps and a massive oak door with a cut-glass window. The name Merrick was etched into the center.

      Each breath Jade drew was more labored. She’d waited months to come here, to meet the one man linked to the secret of her past. She couldn’t lose her nerve.

      Sloan Merrick studied his mother seated on the sofa in the sunroom. Even being in her favorite place in the house, she didn’t look happy. She’d turned fifty-eight on her last birthday, but the past few months had taken a toll on her.

      Since her stroke Louisa Merrick hadn’t cared much about her appearance. Her hair hadn’t been cut or styled, and even the manicurist had been turned away when she’d come by the house. It was so unlike Mother not to want to see anyone, not friends or family. Even though the doctor felt she could make a full recovery with exercise and therapy, she hadn’t put forth much effort. And Sloan was worried about her.

      “The women at the shop send their best wishes. Liz, Beth, Millie and Jenny all asked about you.”

      She looked at him, and then down at items he’d brought her back from The Blind Stitch.

      “Liz thought you’d like the new pattern book. She told me to tell you that they hadn’t started the quilt yet. They need your help on colors and design.”

      “That’s about all I could do. I’d be useless to them the way I am now.”

      “That could change,” he said, hoping to get a rise out of her.

      Bingo. She glared at him. “I know your intentions are good, son. But I’m handling this.”

      But she wasn’t handling it. “Mother, if you’ll just let us help you …”

      “That’s the problem, Sloan. Everyone is always helping me. It’s time I start doing things on my own.” She waved her good arm. “Or I might as well be an invalid.”

      He could see her frustration. Hell, he had a big share of his own. Her strong Spanish heritage showed in her distinctive bone structure and coloring, especially her deep brown eyes.

      “I know how important your independence is to you.”

      “Then get ready because I’m planning on getting it back. And soon.”

      He stared at her, recalling the day she’d collapsed in front of him. Thank God she’d gotten immediate medical attention. And as the wife of a U.S. senator, she’d had the best care. “You haven’t gotten all your strength back. There are times when you need someone to help you.”

      “I agree. That’s why I’m planning on hiring someone to help me get back on my feet.”

      “What? Why didn’t you say something? If you needed help we’re here.”

      She shook her head. “No, you, your father and Alisa need to get on with your lives. I want—no, need—to do this on my own. Thankfully I still have my faculties. My mind isn’t completely gone. That’s why I’m hiring a nurse to be with me until I’m back on solid ground, so to speak.”

      Sloan calmed down a little. Okay, maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. Marta had been overworked with the housework and Mother’s demands. “So who did the doctor recommend?”

      “He gave me the name of a nurses’ registry that specializes in this sort of thing. I’ve been interviewing several candidates and I found one I like.”

      Before Sloan could speak there was a knock on the door and the longtime housekeeper, Marta, peered in. “Señorita Hamilton is here.”

      Louisa smiled. “Good. Send her in, Marta.” Then she glanced at him. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

      He folded his arms across his chest, leaned a hip against the desk and looked toward the doorway. “Not hardly.”

      When the candidate walked into the room, Sloan froze. The woman from town.

      She was an attractive female with dark hair cut in a straight style that moved freely just below her chin. She glanced up at him and his breath caught. Those large eyes, a rich green and tilted upward at the corners, had thrown him off guard just an hour ago and were still having the same effect on him now.

      He quickly recovered and stood. “You don’t seem to take direction

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