LITMIR.BIZ

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of his battered old red pickup truck braced against a hard June wind. He’d held her while she cried, smoothing back the long blond locks that whipped around her tear-soaked face.

      “I have to go, Kara,” he’d said. “The gossips in this town are just waiting for me to slip up, to show the Murdock blood. This is my chance to prove them all wrong and make something of myself. I need to be more than your daddy’s hired hand.”

      “But someday the Tilted T will be mine and we can share it. You won’t be anyone’s hired hand.” Tears flowed over the strong, competent hands that caressed her cheeks.

      “Someday.” He kissed her trembling lips, his eyes suspiciously glassy. “But I’m already in my prime as a bull rider. If I’m real lucky I might get ten years in this business. You and I have the rest of our lives to be together.” His callused thumbs massaged the line of her jaw. “When my rodeo career is behind me, and I have some money in my pockets, we’ll turn the Tilted T into the finest ranch in east Texas.”

      “If you love me, you’ll stay.”

      “Kara, I do love you.” His voice was husky, thick with emotion. “That’s why I have to go. Please understand.”

      But she hadn’t understood. Heedless of her pleading, he’d stepped up into the cab of the truck, started the engine and driven out of her life. She’d given him an ultimatum—her or the rodeo. In the end, he’d chosen the rodeo, and his daddy’s womanizing legacy, over her.

      The agony of that memory was powerful enough to bring her to her senses. She would not be fooled by any man ever again. Especially not this man.

      “This is my family’s ranch and I want it back.”

      “Why?” His eyes narrowed as he studied her stormy expression. “If you cared about this place, why’d you move off to Oklahoma City and leave your dad to run things all by himself?”

      She bit back the angry retort that simmered inside her. How dare he question her loyalty to this ranch? He didn’t know all the nights she’d cried herself to sleep inside the tiny city apartment with the unfamiliar sounds of sirens and traffic roaring in her ears. He couldn’t know how homesick she’d been, or how desperately she’d needed the comfort of home and family. Or how desperately she’d needed him.

      “I had my reasons for moving to the city.” She gripped the warm mug so tightly she thought it might shatter.

      “Yeah. I heard you got married.” Ty set his own cup carefully on the counter and stared down at it. “And divorced. Pete even showed me a picture of your son.”

      Though nothing in his manner said he was even the least bit suspicious, Kara’s blood turned to ice water. She swallowed twice before trusting herself to speak.

      “My personal life is none of your business.”

      “It used to be.” He traced the lip of his coffee cup with a long, dark finger.

      “That was a long time ago, Ty.” Before you chose the back of a bull over the woman you claimed to love. Before you allowed the rodeo groupies to share the love you’d promised to save for me. Before I had your baby all by myself.

      She called up the image of a pale, trembling nineteen-year-old; saw her standing over the bathroom sink as the home pregnancy test revealed the truth. She remembered the smell of fried eggs the first time she’d suffered morning sickness; the taut, swollen feet, the aching back that no one offered to rub. And she recalled twenty hours of labor when no one came to reassure her or love her or to celebrate the arrival of her son. Kara Dean Taylor would never be that vulnerable again.

      “You’ll have to pardon me if I’m not interested in waxing nostalgic.”

      “What if I am?” His lips tilted upward, but his eyes remained serious, watchful. “We left a lot of unfinished business between us.”

      Had they not been so sad, Kara would have found Ty’s unfortunate choice of words funny. Oh, they had unfinished business all right, but not the kind he might imagine. Most likely he was looking for another romp in the hay—literally—but Kara had learned her lesson in that department. The old adage about once burned, twice warned was true. In her case it was twice burned. Once by Ty and then by Josh Riddley, the man who’d been her husband only long enough to protect her son from speculation and to keep her daddy from knowing that his only child had failed him.

      She’d fooled herself and Josh into believing love instead of desperation had brought them together. Josh had discovered the truth right away, just as she had discovered his propensity for alcohol-induced violence. In retrospect, facing Pete’s disappointment would have been easier than living with Josh, but after what she’d suffered to protect the secret, she wouldn’t hurt her daddy now.

      Pete was old-fashioned. He would never have been able to hold his head up if the whole town knew his pride and joy, the perfect daughter, was an unwed mother. Josh had broken her spirit, but this sexy, handsome cowboy across the counter had done something much worse. He’d broken her heart.

      Kara let the rich, sweet coffee linger on her tongue and warm her suddenly cold lips. Some women just have a knack for choosing the wrong men time and time again, and Kara Dean Taylor was one of those misguided fools. It had taken two failures to convince her, but that was enough.

      Kara tossed back another shot of coffee. “Let’s get one thing straight, Murdock. There is nothing unfinished between us.”

      For emphasis she clunked the ceramic cup onto the countertop. A bit of the dark liquid splashed out. Sliding off the bar stool, she circled the bar and headed into the kitchen. Ty stood directly between her and the paper towels. The twinkle in his eye said he had no intention of moving out of the way.

      “If you had any manners, you’d either move or hand me a towel.”

      He smiled and crossed his arms, leaning his backside against the counter. His posture challenged her to come closer, to prove that there was nothing left between them.

      Fine then. She’d show the insufferable cowboy just how completely immune to him she was.

      Armed with his betrayal and six years of heartache, she marched right up to him and leaned to the left, taking care not to touch him. He shifted slightly, bringing their bodies into alignment. Suddenly she was nose to chest with the man she hated more than anyone on earth. And he smelled delicious. Her pulse kicked up a notch. Here was the warm, woodsy scent that had lingered on her skin and on her clothes and in her mind long after he was gone.

      She gritted her teeth against the tide of feeling that threatened. “Give me that dang towel, Murdock.”

      “Give me the towel. Give me the ranch,” he mocked softly, his mouth so close to her hair that she felt the heat of his breath. “Is there anything else the queen desires?”

      He was strong and warm and masculine and, oh, so familiar, even after all this time. For the briefest moment she felt herself being drawn by his charm.

      His hard, cowboy’s hand snaked up her back, caressing as it went. Sensation as warm as butter melting on sweet corn flowed through Kara’s veins. Just when she would have leaned into his chest, he tugged at her ponytail and dropped his hand. The quiet rumble of his chuckle tickled her face.

      Kara jerked away, breaking contact with his body. How dare he toy with her! And why on earth had she responded like that?

      Not caring if the coffee spill ever got wiped up, she marched around the counter away from him. If he thought he could charm her into forgetting what he’d done, he could think again. Once she might have folded, but now she had her son to consider.

      “You haven’t changed a bit, Murdock,” she said in a distressfully breathless voice. “You’re still the selfish little boy you always were, thinking you can charm your way in or out of anything. Well, I’ve got news for you this go-round, cowboy. You can saddle up and ride right on out the way you came in. Just put the deed to the Tilted T on the table as you leave.”

      He struck

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