If You Don't Know By Now. Teresa Southwick

sense God gave a grass hop per.” She met Jack’s intense gaze and tried to tamp down her reaction. The last thing she wanted was him questioning anything until she had a chance to think this through.

      “I’m sure Faith is fine,” Jensen assured her.

      “Do me a favor, Jen? Watch my booth while I see what’s what?” Maggie opened the wooden door as she spoke.

      “Sure,” the other woman answered, changing places with her. “I’ll do the best I can to hold down the fort.”

      “Don’t worry. It was busy before the rodeo events started but now it’s slow. Intermission is almost over so you shouldn’t have a problem. I’ll be back in a few. Thanks, Jen. ’Bye, Jack,” she said, starting off in the direction of the stock pen.

      “I’ll go with you.” He fell into step beside her.

      “That’s not necessary,” she answered, hurrying to keep up with his long-legged stride.

      It briefly crossed her mind to sprint away. But he had her on height, six foot one to her five foot two. And with those thick ropy thigh muscles rippling beneath his denim jeans, she didn’t have a prayer of out running him. Besides, he would wonder why and probably ask. And she couldn’t give him an answer.

      When they reached the stock pen, the smell of hay and dust was strong. In spite of the haze kicked up by the animals, she had no trouble spotting Faith at the far end of the enclosure. True to form, the girl was perched precariously on the top rung of the fence, watching the activity. She faced outward, her bottom hanging over the slat, on the animal’s side. Maggie’s bad feeling just got worse.

      “Faith,” she called when they were a few feet away. “Get down from there.”

      The little girl saw her and started to wave, using her whole body to do it. “Hi—”

      The next thing Maggie knew, her child had lost her balance and was tumbling backward into the wooden steer enclosure. Everyone’s attention was on rodeo commissioner Mitch Rafferty, standing with a microphone in the center ring. Nobody close to Faith had noticed her fall.

      “Oh, God—” Maggie’s heart leaped into her throat. She felt as if she were trapped in a night mare, trying to wade through hip-deep honey to get to her daughter.

      But Jack didn’t hesitate. Without a word he jumped onto the middle rung of the fence, then swung himself over and into the pen. He slapped the rumps of the milling steers to move them out of the way. In the next instant he scooped Faith up into his arms and turned his back, putting his body between the little girl and the nervous animals tossing their wide heads with the dangerous horns. Seconds later he climbed back over the fence, still holding the child.

      With her arm around his strong neck, Faith smiled at Jack. “Thanks, mister.”

      “You okay?” he asked.

      “Yeah.” Then Faith spotted her. “Maybe not. But it’s okay if you put me down now. It’s time for me to suffer dire consequences.”

      “Are you hurt?” Maggie took her daughter by her upper arms and checked her freckled face for bumps and bruises. Fortunately, she didn’t find any. There were red spots on her pink shirt, but that was a cherry snowcone stain. The worst of the ordeal seemed to be the muck and straw mixed with dust that stuck to the backside of her britches.

      “She’s okay.” Jack scanned the crowd. “But I think we should find her folks.”

      Faith’s blue-eyed gaze—Jack’s eyes—swung from Maggie back to him. “You can stop looking for my folks,” the child said.

      “What?” he asked, sounding puzzled.

      “It’s just Mom and she’s right here.”

      Maggie flinched and glanced all the way up at him. His face was still care fully blank, but he tensed, as if every cell and nerve in his body had gone on high alert. She noted a vague feeling of sat is faction that she’d finally been able to detect any reaction at all in him. Unfortunately her hope that he would have no comment was swiftly shattered.

      “‘Mom’?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

      Chapter 2

      Maggie had a kid? A little girl.

      Jack wasn’t sure why that surprised him, but it did. He’d thought about her over the years. Visions of her red curls and hazel eyes had crept into his mind at the weirdest times. Not to mention her sweet, lush lips that had done things to him he would never forget.

      But he wasn’t a dope. She’d hardly been more than a girl when he’d left. He’d known she would grow up, and grow up fine, but he’d never pictured her with a kid.

      “This is my daughter, Faith,” she said, hesitating slightly.

      Most people wouldn’t have noticed that she missed a beat. But he wasn’t most people. He was a career soldier whose life and the lives of his men depended on him noticing even the slightest twitch. He was the computer expert, a military operative in the field who got the job done. So he noticed that Maggie was nervous and trying to hide it.

      “Sweetie,” she said to the girl, “this is Jack Riley—G.G. Dot’s grandson. He’s an old friend of mine.”

      “He doesn’t look old,” the little girl commented, glancing shyly at him.

      Maggie slid him a slightly un com fort able look. “I meant that I’ve known him for a long time.”

      “Then how come I never met him before?”

      “I’ve been gone,” Jack said. In more ways than one, he thought. G.G. Dot? Must be some nickname she’d come up with for Gran. “Hi, Faith. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

      The child put her smaller one in his. “Nice to meet you. Why did you go away?”

      “Sweetie, it’s not polite to ask questions.”

      Since when? A few minutes ago Maggie had asked whatever popped into her mind. Grilled him like a raw hamburger. If he had a dollar for every time she’d said the word why, he would be on his way to financial security. He studied the two—the kid’s hair and eyes were different. But she had Maggie’s stubborn, confident stance. And curiosity. She was definitely a Maggie in the making. Like mother, like daughter.

      Faith’s beautifully shaped little mouth puckered in a familiar pout. It looked suspiciously like an expression he remembered from her mother, a decade ago.

      “How am I s’posed to get to know him if I don’t ask questions?” the kid asked.

      “She has a point,” he said to Maggie. Although he wondered if he should tell the girl that when she actually got to know him, she wouldn’t like what she found. Nah. He wouldn’t be here that long. What could it hurt to let her keep looking at him as if he were a hero? “I joined the army,” he explained. “I’m on leave.” When she turned a puzzled frown on him, he added, “It’s like vacation.”

      “Do you hafta go back?”

      “Yes.”

      For some reason he felt compelled to answer her questions. Was it those big blue eyes looking at him as if he was ten feet tall? Or was it something about being back in Destiny? Something that brought out memories he’d tried to forget.

      Like Maggie. And the way she’d felt in his arms with her mouth soft against his.

      “So you’re officially still in the military?” Maggie asked.

      He nodded. “I’m here to sell Gran’s house.”

      “You’re leaving soon, then,” she said.

      “Probably.”

      Did he see relief in her eyes? Why would she care if he stayed or left? She had once, but that was a long time ago. He hadn’t intended to look her up while he was in