Shattered. Joan Johnston

to the reunion with a friend from the cheerleading squad.

      He’d felt his heart jump when he’d seen her stroll into the Kountze High School gymnasium. Felt it thump hard in his chest when he realized that she’d never married. And that he still loved her.

      Holly had become a renowned pediatric oncologist. He was a pro football quarterback who’d been driven from the game, accused, but never tried and convicted, of shaving points in the Super Bowl. He’d lost the restaurant he’d opened in Austin, the Longhorn Grille, to the IRS for unpaid taxes.

      Because of his suspected involvement in a national gambling scandal, he’d been offered the chance to work undercover as a Texas Ranger to bring down a mob-controlled gambling syndicate. Jack was proud of his work with the Rangers and had struggled, mostly successfully, to put his checkered past behind him.

      He and Holly had both been in a good place in their lives, happy to see each other, eager to share old memories.

      To his surprise, they’d ended up in bed that night. He remembered how shy she’d been with him. How tender he’d felt toward her. His heart in his throat, he’d proposed the next morning. And she’d accepted.

      Despite the difficulties in their marriage, Jack would never have abandoned his family. His tall-for his-age, chestnut-haired, green-eyed son was the joy of his life. Holly was the one who’d asked for the divorce eleven months ago.

      For the second time, and for reasons that were not entirely clear to him, she’d forced him out of her life.

      Holly had taken Ryan with her to Kansas while they waited for the divorce lawyers to work out the financial arrangements between them and for the divorce to be finalized in court. Holly had wanted to live close to her parents, so they could help her with child care while she spent long hours at the hospital.

      Jack had argued with the family court judge that he could only be a Texas Ranger in Texas, and that Holly shouldn’t be allowed to take his son so far away. The judge had replied that law enforcement was law enforcement, and Jack could take a job as a Kansas City cop if he wanted to be closer to his son.

      But the Texas Rangers weren’t the same as other law enforcement agencies. Rangers worked as lone wolves, independent lawmen whose ingenuity and courage and determination made them the best at what they did. When Jack became a Ranger, he’d become part of a history that reached back to a time when the Texas Rangers provided law and order for the brand-new Republic of Texas, formed in 1836 with its own president and its own army and navy.

      Despite his plea, the judge had given Holly permission to take Ryan and leave the state. His heart had ached for the loss of Holly. It had bled for the loss of his son.

      He’d moved on with his life. He’d allowed himself to fall in love again, with Kate Pendleton. He’d enjoyed the time he spent with her sons, Lucky and Chance, in the months they’d lived with him and his parents at Twin Magnolias, his ranch west of Austin, while Kate was in a coma. He’d even arranged for Ryan to come stay with him and meet Kate’s sons during Christmas vacation.

      Fortunately, Ryan had sent him a Valentine’s Day card with a drawing of “Mommy” showing Holly with a swollen belly. He figured Holly’s mother must have accidentally mailed it. Holly knew he’d always wanted more children. It was difficult to accept the fact that she’d schemed to keep this second pregnancy from him.

      Even after he’d confronted his nearly-ex-wife, she’d lied.

      “The baby isn’t yours,” she’d said, facing him with her chin tilted upward in a gesture of defiance he recognized all too well.

      “You willing to prove that?”

      She’d frowned. “We’re getting a divorce, Jack. What does it matter whose child this is?”

      “I’m not having a son of mine born a bastard. It’s a burden no innocent child should have to bear. I can stand to be married to you long enough to give my son—”

      “Or daughter,” she’d interjected.

      “Or daughter,” Jack had said, imagining a little girl with Holly’s green eyes and red hair, “my name.”

      Holly’s eyes had brimmed with tears as she said, “I don’t want to spend the last few months of my pregnancy with us at each other’s throats. And that’s what happens lately whenever we’re together.”

      It had hurt to hear her say it, even though their marriage was within a few weeks of being over. “Too bad,” he’d retorted. “I’m not giving you a divorce until the baby’s born.”

      “I want this fighting to be over with, Jack.” Her voice was angry. But her eyes were agonized.

      “No problem,” Jack said. “The day you give birth, we’re quits. But the papers don’t get signed until then.”

      “All right, Jack. You win.”

      He’d won the argument, all right, but lost the war. At least, that was how it felt. Instead of being free to pursue a relationship with Kate, whom he loved, he’d tied himself to Holly for four more long months.

      Of course, he and Kate couldn’t get married anyway until they found her errant husband. She’d only admitted J.D. was alive after Jack had said, “I love you”—to explain why she wasn’t completely free.

      The world believed her husband was dead, but Kate knew J.D. was alive. How could she get a divorce from a man who was legally dead? And it took seven years after his “disappearance” to have J.D. declared dead—again.

      But he’d bought a ring, anyway. He’d planned to go down on one knee tonight and propose to her.

      Instead, he had to confess to Kate that while she’d been in a coma, he’d gone to bed with his wife. And gotten her pregnant.

      That wasn’t the worst of it.

      Holly had made demands of her own before she would agree to postpone their divorce until the child was born.

      “I’ll stay married to you on one condition,” she’d said.

      “You’re in no position to make conditions,” he’d shot back.

      “You have to live with me and Ryan until the baby is born.”

      He’d been so stunned that for a moment he hadn’t been able to speak. Fury had quickly followed. “Why are you jerking me around, Holly? You’re the one who asked for the divorce. You’re the one who kicked me out on my ass. And you’re the one who pointed out that all we ever do anymore is fight. Why in hell would you want us to live together for the next four months?”

      “I want us to use this time to mend what was broken between us.”

      “You’ve got to be kidding.” Jack was pretty sure they couldn’t mend what was broken between them if they lived together for the next forty years.

      “I want us to become friends again,” she explained, her leaf-green gaze focused on his.

      He’d always been a sucker for that pleading look, and she knew it. But he wasn’t about to let her manipulate him. “Why make this any harder than it is?”

      In a soft, throaty voice that he couldn’t remember hearing Holly use in recent memory, she said, “We were best friends once, Jack.”

      “That was a long time ago,” he replied, his voice harsh. “We can’t go back, Holly. What would be the point?”

      “The point is, we’re going to have two children who’ll need us to be able to talk without arguing,” she said reasonably. “Two children who’ll need us to be friends in order to make custody arrangements without hurting them or each other.”

      He hated to admit it, but she was right. Over the past year, every discussion they’d had about Ryan had been laced with animosity on her part and resentment on his. But there was a sticking point that made what she suggested impossible for him.

      “I’m