The Lawman's Christmas Proposal. Barbara White Daille

sure Trey would love that.”

      “Yeah, Mommy, wanna ride horse. Bi-i-ig horse.”

      “Don’t you worry, mister,” Eddie said, “we’ll get you up on Bingo again tomorrow. How’s that?”

      “Yay!” Trey clapped his hands. No sign of the terrible twos now, as Mitch had mentioned.

      With a smile, she watched Eddie ruffle her son’s hair. She didn’t need a policeman’s skills to note that the tall, quiet teen grew much more talkative every time Mitch’s sister Laurie arrived at the ranch. Whenever she saw the two of them together, the pair made her think of Mitch and herself.

      With luck, this couple’s summer romance would end more happily than her and Mitch’s had done.

      When he came to stand beside her, she turned to Trey. “Come on, sweetie, we need to go back to the hotel.”

      “I don’t wanna! Wanna see Daff now.”

      “So do I,” Laurie said quietly over his head. “Is it okay if I take him with me for just a few minutes?”

      “I’ll go and keep an eye on things,” Eddie said.

      His tone made it evident he considered himself responsible for everything on the ranch. Just the way Mitch had when she’d met him.

      The trio entered the barn.

      She went to take a seat on one of the stools the cowhands had left a few yards from the doorway. She hoped Mitch would get the hint, would follow the rest of them in to the stalls or turn and go to the hotel.

      But no, he was ambling her way, moving slowly. Maybe to control his limp?

      She tried not to stare. Not to let her emotions show in her expression. As a teenager, he had been a star athlete, she knew. Football quarterback. Pitcher for Cowboy Creek’s baseball team. Whatever had happened to him on the job, it would devastate him if he couldn’t return to being just as active.

      He took the stool beside hers, his leg stretched out before him. He sat so close, she could count the stitches running down the leg of his jeans. “Seems like Jed’s training up another hand to join the crew.”

      “Grandpa’s good at that.”

      “Yeah,” he agreed. “And I should know.”

      “You needed to be trained?”

      “Sure did. I might have bummed a ride or two on a friend’s horse when I was a kid, which meant I could handle myself in the saddle, but that was about it.”

      “Why did Grandpa take you on in the first place?”

      He raised a brow. “This is a dude ranch. Considering all the charm and good looks I had back then, you really have to ask that question?”

      Of course, she didn’t have to ask. She remembered. He’d had plenty of charm and tons of good looks, and the years hadn’t taken any of that away. Not that she would ever admit it to him. “You don’t need either of those to groom a horse.”

      “Ha,” he said with a laugh. “You never saw me trying to charm Daffodil on one of her cranky days. But Jed probably thought I’d make a good candidate for working with the hotel guests. Growing up in a family of seven, I learned how to get along with people. Like that kid in there.” He jerked his thumb toward the barn doorway. “That one’s a real talker.”

      “When your sister’s around.”

      “Is that so? Well, I seem to remember girls having that effect on me. Especially you.” He’d lowered his voice to a husky murmur.

      She wrapped her arms around her waist and fought an urge to run.

      “Tina was always the quietest cousin,” he said, “but you were on the quiet side, too. At first, I couldn’t get you to say two words in a row to me. Maybe it’s because you were an only child.”

      No, because she was a tongue-tied teenager who blushed every time he looked at her. A tendency she didn’t seem to have outgrown.

      “If not for you wanting to ride,” he said, “I’d bet I never would have met you.”

      If he only knew. On previous vacations here, she had always enjoyed riding. Her interest had skyrocketed the summer she had discovered the new stable hand with the tousled black hair, stripped to the waist of his low-riding jeans, pitching hay into a stall. Suddenly, along with riding, she had felt the urge for twice-daily visits to Daffodil. She had dragged poor Jane, who couldn’t have cared less about horses, along with her for company. And camouflage.

      “You’re still quiet,” he said.

      She shrugged. “I guess we don’t have much to say to each other, do we? We never did much together, except...”

      “Except hang out at the barn and sneak away to make out every chance we got?”

      Her cheeks burned. “We were kids, Mitch—”

      “We’re grown-ups now.”

      “—and that’s all in the past. We don’t need this trip down memory lane.”

      “Why not? They’re fond memories, aren’t they?”

      She heard bitterness in his tone but read something else in his face. Something she couldn’t afford to see. Instead, she gazed past the corral in the direction of the creek. Another thing she couldn’t afford to envision. “Fond memories? Even the final ones?”

      From the corner of her eye, she saw his hand clench on his thigh. Why was she reminding him about the way things had ended?

      Because she knew they couldn’t start anything between them again.

      “I’d better go check on Trey.”

      He laid his hand on her arm. “Maybe I’ll give you a second chance for walking away without a word.”

      “Thanks. But maybe I don’t want one.” She pulled her arm free.

      “I don’t need to ask if you still feel something for me, Andi. Your reaction when I touched you a few minutes ago already gave me the answer.”

      She shook her head. “That was just another quick trip down memory lane.”

      “Yeah? And don’t your memories match mine?” He leaned toward her.

      It took more effort than she wanted to look away from him. “Nothing matches anymore, Mitch.”

      “That sounds like a woman at the end of her rope. What’s wrong?”

      The question made her jump, but she forced herself to turn to him again. “Nothing’s wrong.”

      “You know, one of the first things they teach rookies is to notice a perp’s expression. Always watch the ones who won’t look you in the eye—but pay equal attention to the ones who stare you down.”

      “I told you, nothing’s wrong. When I said nothing matches, I just meant we don’t have anything in common anymore.” She rose from the stool. If he caught her eye again, he would trap her in that lie.

      A few hurried steps past him took her into the barn, where she hoped the cool shade would ease the flush in her cheeks. What she would need to cool the rest of her, she didn’t know.

      Yes, she had lied. She and Mitch had plenty in common. A mutual interest in each other. Leftover lust from their summer together. And somehow, a spark that survived despite the fact she had left him without a word.

      * * *

      STUNNED BY HIS close encounter with Andi, Mitch stayed in place on the stool.

      He’d been so wrapped up in the idea of seeing her again today, he had spent most of the morning exercising his leg on a slow walk through town, made only a brief trip to the sheriff’s office after lunch and found himself sitting outside the school