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mentioned his face. I wasn’t able to see it when he came in. What’s wrong with his face?” A sudden urge to grab Shorty by the collar and insist he talk faster forced Abby to grab her own hands instead and clasp them tight.

      “Well, he’s got some powerful scars,” Shorty drawled. “That bull made a mess of his face. The doc did what he could. Hell, he was the best plastic surgeon around, but he couldn’t give Bo back his good looks. He don’t look so awful, though. Just, uh, different.”

      Abby caught Shorty watching her with a cautious eye while he kept on reciting his tale.

      “That’s what Bo can’t accept, ya’ see. People stare at him and he can’t stand their pity. That’s why I brought him back here. Figured he could stay out at the ranch with me until he decides what he’s gonna do with the rest of his life. Truth is, Abby, he says he ain’t gonna ride the circuit again because of his crooked leg. And besides, he’s broke. Somebody’s gotta take care of him.”

      “Well, where’s that high-falutin’ niece of yours…and their kid?” IdaJoy never minced words. “Why isn’t she here takin’ care of her man?”

      Abby was relieved when IdaJoy asked what she hadn’t dared.

      “Well now, I’m thinking that’s Bo’s business,” Shorty said.

      “Nothin’ good ever comes from hiding the truth,” IdaJoy pointed out. She waggled her finger at Shorty.

      Shorty shrugged. “Maybe so, but that’s Bo’s tale to tell, not mine. Right now, I’d be much obliged for a big bowl of your five-alarm chili. Oh, and how about puttin’ some in one of those take-along cartons? For Bo. Then I’ve got to find me a ride home.” He shot a hopeful glance toward Abby.

      She hesitated when IdaJoy shot a disapproving look her way, knowing if she offered, she’d risk seeing Bo again. But then again if she didn’t, she would regret it later.

      “I’ll be finished here in about half an hour. If you want to wait, I’ll take you back to the ranch.” Abby turned to head for the kitchen and bumped smack into IdaJoy, who stood there with her hands on her hips, snapping her gum and shaking her beehive hairdo.

      “Oh, you are so asking for it, Abby Houston.”

      Abby frowned. “Yeah, you’re probably right, but…” But what? her conscience asked innocently, as her heart danced a Texas two-step.

      Shorty grinned like he’d just won the lottery.

      Chapter Two

      Abby’s pulse raced much too fast as she sped down the farm-to-market road with Shorty in the passenger side of her car. Her entire nervous system had been scrambled ever since Bo showed up at the café. Had it really been only a little over an hour since she’d seen him? Felt his presence? Nearly let her heart be bruised again? She took deep breaths and tried to concentrate on driving, even though the way to the Packer ranch was so familiar she didn’t need to watch the road. Some things you never forgot. Even when you tried.

      Her damp palms were slick on the steering wheel and she swiped them across the front of her cotton shirt, one at a time. She had to swallow hard to keep the uneasy churning in the pit of her stomach from bringing her lunch back for reruns. The stifling afternoon heat kept her on the edge of nervous nausea. One of these days, she’d have enough money saved to repair the car’s broken air conditioner. Even with the windows lowered, the interior of the six-year-old Taurus was frying-pan hot. Right now, she had other things to think about.

      When they’d left the Blue Moon twenty minutes earlier, Abby had made up her mind to stop when they reached the ranch, let Shorty out of the car and head right on home. She didn’t need to get out. Didn’t need to see Bo or anyone else that might be around. No need at all. Oh, right. Like that was going to keep her mind from slipping back to times and places best left undisturbed.

      But undisturbed memories are like treasures stored away in dusty attics—often uncovered by accident and brought out to linger over. To cherish once again. So Abby blew the dust off her memories and drifted back to the time when Bo was the center of her universe—her reason for being.

      Glorious. That’s what the time with him had been. He’d made her feel cherished. Special in a way she’d never felt before. She’d been swept off her feet and had fallen hopelessly in love. She’d believed he felt the same. Then he’d left without saying goodbye, and her world suddenly had become a black hole.

      When she finally emerged from the darkness of heartbreak, anger took its place with an intensity that had almost destroyed her. Desperate to forget, but with a stubborn Texas pride too strong to let her give up, she’d focused on survival, facing the sympathetic looks of the community with her head held high. She’d believed her heartache had faded. Until now.

      Her foot mashed harder on the gas pedal and the ribbon of highway blurred beneath tires she should’ve replaced last month.

      “You tryin’ to get a speeding ticket or what?” Shorty snapped, his bushy eyebrows knit together in a gray scowl.

      Abby checked the numbers on the speedometer and jerked her foot from its rigid position. “Sorry, guess I wasn’t watching.”

      The old rancher stuck his toothpick back in his shirt pocket and drummed his fingers on his knee. He crossed and uncrossed his stubby legs, squirming around in the seat like a toddler with a bladder problem.

      Finally, he cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, guess you’ve got reason enough to have a wandering mind, seein’ Bo again and all.”

      “Ramsey’s return is no concern of mine.” Abby shot him a sideways glance just in time to catch the flicker of distress in the older man’s eyes. “Shorty, is something wrong?”

      “Uh, no.” He hesitated, then exhaled loudly. “That is…I reckon this might not be the right time to bring it up, Abby, but I was thinkin’…uh, just wonderin’ if you could use some extra help at that riding school of yours? You know, something a cowboy with a bum leg could do.”

      Abby hit the brakes. The car lurched, swerved and with a cough, chugged to a halt on the side of the road.

      Shorty peeled the safety belt away from his throat and pushed back in the seat, his eyes wide.

      “Gawdamighty, woman! Didja’ forget how to drive?”

      Ignoring his colorful roar, Abby slammed the heel of her hand on the steering wheel, counted to ten under her breath, then whipped around in the seat to stare at him in disbelief.

      “Did I hear you right? You want me to let Bo Ramsey work with my students? With my horses? Not in this lifetime, Shorty.” She shook her head so vigorously, the scrunchy holding her thick ponytail flipped off and landed on Shorty’s knee. She didn’t even bother to retrieve it.

      When he blanched visibly, Abby was pretty sure he got the message. A fleeting stab of remorse snagged her conscience. Verbal attacks were not her usual style, but Shorty’s ludicrous suggestion was anything but usual.

      For heaven’s sake, she didn’t need any more problems to deal with, especially one as provoking and personal as Bo Ramsey. So why was she even considering Shorty’s request? She wasn’t, was she? No, of course not.

      “I ain’t said nothin’ to him about your riding program yet, Abby.” Shorty gingerly retrieved the ponytail holder with two fingers and deposited it on the dashboard. “He’s powerful depressed, though, and I just thought…maybe…”

      He scratched his chin, ducked his head in that sheepish way of his that made Abby grind her teeth.

      She leaned her head against the back of the seat. Why, oh why had Bo come back now, just when she was getting her life in order? Finally learning to live without him. She didn’t want to feel sympathy toward him. She didn’t want to feel anything at all. She owed him absolutely nothing. She would not feel guilty.

      Shorty kept right on talking. “You

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