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Warren doesn’t care a rat’s hindquarters for this place. That means he doesn’t care about you. Once he earns his money, you won’t see him for dust.”

      “And wouldn’t you fall over with fright if I just happened to follow him.”

      His face paled before a confident smile hooked one side of his mouth. “You wouldn’t desecrate your parents’ memory like that.”

      “I’ll do whatever I damn well please.” Her face hot, tears pickling behind her eyes, she strode off. “Close the door on your way out.”

      When Nita returned that evening, Elizabeth was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the study, plowing through her old university papers. One hand went behind to help stretch her back as she glanced up and smiled.

      “I didn’t hear you drive up.”

      Stepping between the patchwork of textbooks and data sheets, Nita tsked. “That’s because you’ve insulated yourself in here with all this paper. What are you looking for?”

      Sighing, Elizabeth sat back on her heels.

       I’m looking for my life.

      “I chose a degree in psychology,” she said, collecting her final essay with the excellent grade, “because I wanted to help people.”

      Bent, about to collect a pile of books, Nita froze. “Has something happened at the shelter?” Nita knew of Elizabeth’s work there and how she’d like to do more.

      “No.” Elizabeth corrected herself. “Not exactly. A woman dropped off a letter here. I asked Chad to organize some funds.”

      “Oh.” Above her glasses, Nita’s eyebrows lifted, as if that explained everything about Elizabeth’s low mood. She placed the books on the edge of the ornate 1920s timber desk, which had been Ethan Milton’s pride and joy.

      “We had our usual tussle,” Elizabeth explained, “about whether I was being responsible with my parents’ money.”

      “It’s your money now.”

      Still on the floor, Elizabeth blew a stream of air toward the ceiling. Their money. Her money. Wills and caveats and time sliding away. Twenty-five, twenty-six. One day, before she knew it, she’d be Nita’s age.

      Elizabeth pushed to her feet. “Suddenly I feel so stifled.”

      “So you’ve decided to do more study?”

      Looking around, she shrugged. “Maybe.”

      Nita leaned her hips back against the desk, waiting for the younger woman to continue.

      Elizabeth wandered to a window and, resting the side of her head against the jamb, looked out on another amazing Texas sunset.

      “Daniel came over last night.”

      “I guessed.”

      She folded her arms over her nervous stomach. “He makes me feel things I haven’t felt before.”

      “You’re falling in love with him?”

      “No.” Elizabeth released the sudden buildup of energy and, thinking more deeply on it, slowly shook her head then smiled. “But I sure like having him around.”

      “If he gets the job for the club, he’ll be in Royal for a while.”

      “I imagine so.” Elizabeth turned to face her friend. “He asked me to go away with him for a couple of days.”

      Approving, Nita nodded. “When do you leave?”

      “I’m not sure. When he left this morning, he had an idea for the design he wanted to work on.”

      “See what a slice of my cheesecake can do?”

      A smile broke across Elizabeth’s face. “Imagine if he’d had two pieces.”

      Elizabeth crossed the room and sat behind the desk. A photograph of her grandparents sat on one side in a solid silver frame. Another of her mother and father on their wedding day sat on the other. Both shots had been taken out front of this house.

      Elizabeth collected the wedding day shot and felt her throat swell with emotion. Whenever the miss you feeling got too much, she liked to look through old photographs, although she was never sure if it made her feel better or worse.

      “Daniel doesn’t like his parents,” she murmured, running a fingertip down the train of her mother’s wedding gown. “He dislikes his memories of the South even more.”

      “The past is important. We need to understand where we come from,” Nita said in her wise rather than wisecrack voice. “But we need to remember that the future is ours to create.”

      “Is it?” Setting down the photo, Elizabeth imagined a similar shot of her with a proud Texan husband. “Or is it mapped out for us?” Plotted with a few twists and turns before an inevitable conclusion?

      “I’ve decided to see more of my mother,” Nita said. “Stay more regularly.”

      Elizabeth’s gaze snapped up. “Not to give Daniel and me more space here?”

      “I’d already decided.” Her lips twitched. “Although he is a nice boy.”

      “He’s a busy set-in-his-ways-millionaire-passing-through boy.” Elizabeth slumped. “And I’m a restless heiress with too much time on her hands.”

      “You’re a man and a woman.”

      “It feels wrong to want something I know I can never have. And yet when we’re together, it feels so right.”

      “Go away with Daniel. Enjoy your time.” Nita sauntered toward the door. “The ranch will be here when you get back.”

      Folding her forearms on the desk, Elizabeth bent forward to study the papers strewn across the floor. Then she remembered Chad’s unacceptable behavior and all the women from the shelter she’d helped in the past. Finally she remembered Daniel, his wicked smile, scorching embraces. His offer of escape.

      Her stomach sinking, Elizabeth laid her head on her folded arms.

       What if she never wanted to come back?

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