LITMIR.BIZ

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dinner on the table at the same time every day.”

      “I’ll try to do that,” he promised. It was probably the only place in the whole county where he was halfway welcome.

      “You paid your respects to your momma yet?” she demanded in that once-a-schoolteacher-always-a-schoolteacher tone.

      “I was about to do that.” It was a lie. He had no desire to visit his mother’s grave. He didn’t want to be reminded of her final days. But Mrs. Jennings still wielded an unexplainable power over him. Since fifth grade some deeply entrenched habit took over whenever she rattled off an order, and he found himself responding positively.

      “Well come along, then, and we’ll see my Fred, too.”

      Gray stepped back for her to lead the way. “Do you know Lauren Whitmore well?” he asked as he followed Mrs. Jennings’s slow progress down the long center aisle that separated the two sides of the cemetery.

      “I know she won’t give up that little girl without a fight.” Mrs. Jennings turned back to Gray, her gaze connecting with his once more. “She loves the child like her own. She’s done a fine job since Sharon, God rest her soul, passed on.”

      Though he appreciated what the Whitmore woman had done for his daughter, renewed anger twisted inside him that she somehow thought a few months of baby-sitting made the child hers. “That may be, but Sarah is my daughter, not hers.”

      “Watch your step, Longwalker,” she warned.

      “Things are not always as cut-and-dried as they seem. Lauren isn’t the only citizen of Thatcher who has an interest in little Sarah.”

      Gray considered her words for a long moment. “Sharon had no living relatives,” he countered. There was no one, except him, that would be related by blood to Sarah.

      “Let’s just say that blood isn’t always thicker than water. Buckmaster himself told me just before he left this world that he intended to make things right with you. I doubt his boys liked that idea very much.”

      “They can rest easy,” Gray told her. “I never heard from the old man.”

      LAUREN PACED the long entry hall that separated her living room and dining room, then peeked out the window for the umpteenth time. Nothing, only pastures quickly turning a rich-green spread out as far as the eye could see. Bluebonnets added a punch of color to the sea of green. Though Lauren’s small ranch only included fifty acres, she loved every square foot of it. Five years ago she would have laughed had anyone told her that very soon she would be living in the middle of nowhere on a former horse ranch. Lauren had loved the energy of the city. Loved the hectic pace of her job. But things changed.

      Pushing the thoughts of the past away, she paced in the other direction, her fuzzy pink house slippers soundless on the polished oak floor. Otherwise Sarah would have wondered why her mommy was behaving so nervously.

      Fluffy, Sarah’s huge black-and-white Persian, sauntered to the door and yowled. Lauren smiled and reached down to scratch the feline’s furry head. Like Spinner, the old horse left on the ranch she had inherited from her aunt, Fluffy had come with the place. It hadn’t taken Lauren long to realize that life on a ranch wouldn’t be complete without at least one cat and one horse. While most folks around here felt lost without a dog sleeping on the porch, Lauren had yet to make a trip to the pound in Dallas to adopt one. Something always came up. But she had her heart set on a big old Labrador. Fluffy voiced her irritation with Lauren’s slow reactions.

      “Okay, girl, you can go outside even if the rest of us are stuck in the house.” Lauren opened the door just far enough for an impatient Fluffy to squeeze out, then closed and locked it. She immediately resumed her pacing.

      This is ridiculous, she fumed silently. She couldn’t keep worrying that Gray Longwalker would show up at her door again. Don’s parting words echoed inside her head. You need a restraining order.

      “Yeah, right,” Lauren huffed to the empty hall. She knew all about Longwalker’s reputation. If he wanted to drop by, it would take more than a legal document saying he couldn’t to stop him.

      “Mommy!” The shrill little voice pierced the tense gloom shrouding Lauren, bringing a smile instantly to her lips despite her worries.

      Lauren stepped into the living room to see what Sarah wanted this time. Five minutes ago, she thought, affection widening her smile, it had been Leah. Sarah hadn’t been able to find the special doll she’d had since the day Lauren brought her home to live with her. After searching every nook and cranny of the house, they had finally found the doll under the dining table.

      “What’s wrong, sweetie?” Lauren crooned to the little girl, who was gazing expectantly at her.

      “Can I have a cookie, please?” The child smiled angelically, her expression hopeful as well as pleading.

      “Pretty, pretty, please? With sugar on top?”

      Sarah’s big gray eyes mocked Lauren, reminding her of the man poised to shatter both their lives.

      Lauren tamped down the sudden urge to grab the little girl and run as far away as possible—maybe even back to Chicago. But Lauren knew that her life was here now, and Thatcher was the only home Sarah had ever known. And she had made that promise. She had to trust Sharon’s reasons, though she had not expounded upon them in depth, for not wanting the child to be raised by her father. If he was half as bad as the people in this town insinuated, he had no business raising a child.

      Whatever happened the next few weeks, Lauren had to act as if everything were normal until the problem of Gray Longwalker could be resolved. Hard as it might prove to be, she would keep a happy face in place for Sarah’s sake. Her daughter was particularly adept at picking up on Lauren’s feelings.

      Lauren forced her usual disciplinary expression, which was not nearly effective enough, and said, “You know better than to ask, Sarah, it’s only four-thirty. You’ve had your after-school snack already.” She gestured toward the television. “Watch cartoons. Dinner will be ready in a little while.”

      Sarah groaned and pulled her knees up under her chin. She shifted her doleful gaze back to the animated antics on the television screen. In a matter of seconds she had forgotten the denied request and was giggling at Bugs Bunny.

      A long curtain of silky black hair slid around her thin little shoulders. Other than her skin being a shade or so lighter, the child looked exactly like her father. Lauren shivered at the memory of that haunting gaze of Gray Longwalker’s.

      Exactly.

      Lauren’s chest felt unbearably heavy. She couldn’t lose this child—not now, not after she had fallen head over heels in love with her and made Sarah her own. Her breath caught at the memory that Lauren had at first refused Sharon’s deathbed request to take the child. After losing the only man she had ever loved four years ago, Lauren had resigned herself about never having children. She couldn’t possibly ever love another man; the risk of losing was too great. Thus, there would be no children. She had turned off those emotions. Though she loved children, she had simply disassociated herself with the concept of ever having any of her own. The thought of a child without marriage first had never entered her mind.

      She closed her eyes and allowed the memories she would just as soon forget to flood her mind. She and Kevin were both ambitious and career oriented. They planned to marry and someday in the distant future they would have had children. They had been happy. Until the accident. And then he was gone. Lauren opened her eyes and clenched her jaw. It was bad enough that she lost the man she loved that dark, rainy night, but fate had also thrown her one final blow—the headaches. Life-altering headaches. Headaches that kept her from participating in life as she once had. That sent her scurrying away from the stress and noise of big-city living. That kept her working from a home office to reduce her stress even further. She’d even had to hire an assistant to help her do a job she had once accomplished by herself without thought.

      Lauren sighed wearily and shuffled back to the hall. But she had survived, moved to

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