If You Don't Know By Now. Teresa Southwick

She looked surprised, and relieved. “How?”

      “Spirited. Willful. beautiful.”

      He hadn’t meant to say that. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d said anything without calculating first.

      Pink deepened in her cheeks, but she met his gaze dead-on. “You think I’m beautiful?”

      “Yeah.” He shrugged. “But I didn’t think you were married.”

      “I don’t recall you asking,” she countered.

      He nodded toward her left hand. “No wedding band.”

      “Ah,” she said. “You thought right. I’m not married.”

      “Divorced?”

      She hesitated. “No.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “It’s got to be one or the other, Maggie.”

      “No, it doesn’t. Not if I’ve never been married.” She didn’t look away and her small, pointed chin lifted slightly in the same rebellious gesture that he’d just seen on her daughter.

      So she’d had Faith outside of marriage vows. That must have fried her folks, as protective as they were. What about the rest of the people in town? Had they been rough on her? She’d said her business had been around for five years, so if they had been, it was ancient history.

      But damn it, that thinking was all a smoke screen. Typical of the cold hearted man he’d become, he couldn’t stop the feeling of satisfaction that she’d never married. But that meant she’d done it alone—not the conceiving part, the raising part. And it ticked him off that a guy would use Maggie, then walk out on her.

      “Do I know her father?” It was none of his business, but he couldn’t stop the question.

      Her face went white. “No one knows her father.”

      “Not exactly. You do.”

      “I’ll clarify. I’ve never told anyone who her father is.” Her hands were shaking.

      “Not ever? Not even your folks?” He found that hard to believe.

      “Not a soul.” Color flushed back into her cheeks, but again he admired the fact that she didn’t look away.

      He wanted to ask why she’d kept such sensitive information to herself. He wanted to demand that she tell him the guy’s name so he could make the creep sorry for deserting her. But he didn’t ask questions. If anyone under stood the necessity of keeping a secret, it was him.

      “Guess you’ve got your reasons” was all he could say.

      The whole time they’d been talking, spectators had been wandering by. Jack had been aware of announcements over the public address system. From time to time, static crackled in the night air. Now he heard a female voice say, “I love you, Mitch.”

      “That sounded like Taylor,” Maggie said.

      Jack glanced at the bleachers and noticed that all the spectators were turned to watch Mitch Rafferty and Taylor Stevens in the corral. He recognized them from the news pa per photo he’d told Maggie about. A buzz started in the crowd. After several moments it got louder and more wide spread. Finally he figured out what they were repeating over and over— “Kiss her.”

      At that moment a big burly cowboy lugging a saddle walked behind Maggie and pushed her forward. Automatically Jack’s arms went around her to keep her from falling. The man’s mumbled apology penetrated part of Jack’s consciousness. But it was the very small part not taken up with wondering if an all-grown-up Maggie tasted different. The crowd was chanting even louder now and far be it from him to singlehandedly curb mob rule.

      He stared into Maggie’s wide eyes. She swallowed once, and ran her tongue along her top lip. The movement was like kerosene to the sparks of his aware ness. He went hot all over. Discipline had been his middle name for the last ten years. But a short time with Maggie had sent his self-restraint into the dumper. For the life of him, he couldn’t seem to care.

      Before he could talk himself out of it, he lowered his mouth to hers. The sweet ness of it mustered a moan deep in his chest. He slid his arm around her waist and settled her more securely against him. He traced her bottom lip and her mouth opened, allowing him access.

      He dipped inside the moist, honeyed interior. With her breasts pressed against him, he felt the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Satisfaction sluiced through him. This was a replay from all those years ago and felt even better now than it had then. He could still turn her warm and willing in his arms with just a touch. He lifted his head and opened his eyes in time to see that Faith had disobeyed orders.

      “I guess that’s how you thank him for saving me,” she said.

      “Faith,” Maggie gasped, then pushed against his chest, urging him to release her.

      He let her go and side by side they both met the gaze of her daughter.

      “I—I thought I told you to stay at my booth,” Maggie managed to get out.

      Jack heard the slightly breath less quality to her voice and, God help him, couldn’t stop the intense feeling of pleasure that coursed through him at the sound.

      “Mo-om, you said to stay with Jensen.”

      “She’s at the booth,” Maggie said.

      “No, she’s not,” the child answered.

      “Who’s manning the booth?”

      “Ronnie Slyder’s mom.”

      “Where’s Jensen?” Maggie demanded.

      Faith rolled her eyes. “In the stands.”

      Maggie rested her hands on her hips. “Why aren’t you with her as ordered?”

      “I was. But now she’s talking prudence with Sheriff O’Connor,” she said.

      “Juris prudence?” Maggie asked.

      “Yeah. That’s what Jensen called it.” She frowned. “But the sheriff is mad about something.”

      “What?” Maggie asked.

      The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. He said something about being served. But he didn’t have any food.”

      “Was it about papers?”

      “Yeah, I think he mentioned some papers.”

      “How did you figure that out?” Jack questioned.

      Maggie met his gaze. “Some times you have to read between the lines. Jensen is an attorney now. I understand she’s taking some time off from her Dallas job and is staying with her sister Taylor on the ranch.”

      “Good information. I’m going to need some legal help with Gran’s estate,” he said. “Although I don’t think it’s complicated and wouldn’t take much of her time.”

      “She’d probably be happy to give you a hand.”

      “I want to go home, Mom.”

      “Okay.”

      “Then I guess this is goodbye.” Again, he thought. And probably for the best after that kiss. She’d given him a cheap lesson. She always could make him forget himself before he could say damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead. Which was why he’d returned her letter ten years ago. He’d had an opportunity to be good at something and needed to cut any personal ties that weren’t family. He hadn’t trusted himself to resist any request she would make to get back together.

      A feeling of loneliness surrounded him, a sensation he hadn’t ever felt before. The last time he’d said goodbye to Maggie, he’d had high hopes for making something of his life. Now he couldn’t shake the feeling he should have grabbed hold of her and hung on for all he was worth.

      “Where