The Texan's Little Secret. Barbara Daille White

      And just look who he had on his payroll now.

      Carly choked on a laugh. “As if you really meant the suggestions seriously.”

      “You know I didn’t.” Kim sighed. “Well, I’m sorry it didn’t turn into the romance of the century. But even if you never told anyone, after all, I guess going out with Luke was better than my alternatives.”

      If she only knew.

      But how could she tell Kim the truth? She couldn’t explain, even to her own satisfaction, why she had suddenly felt the need to keep Luke all to herself. Instead, she had sworn Kim to silence.

      Still, typical teen that she was back then, she couldn’t keep from sharing developments with her best friend.

      Day by day, she had filled in every little detail of her first big romance...until the part where she and Luke slept together.

      * * *

      THREE LONG, LONG DAYS after the barbecue, Luke sat at the bar of the Longhorn, the local saloon. He took a deep, satisfying swallow of beer from the mug in front of him.

      His mom had gone to her usual Monday-night get-together with her cronies, bringing Rosie along. The ladies all claimed to take their card games seriously, but he suspected the women paid more attention to dessert and his daughter than they did to their poker hands.

      He thought about the endless weekend, starting with Friday and the barbecue he never should have gone to. Not when he knew Carly Baron was back on the Roughneck and would be there, too.

      On Saturday, he’d kept busy with his men, handling the backbreaking job of clearing brush. The hard labor kept his body moving, and working with a couple of cowhands who always had their mouths in gear kept him from thinking thoughts he shouldn’t. He’d chosen to work side-by-side with those men for that very reason.

      On Sunday...well, that was a mite tougher. If the Longhorn had been open, he might’ve stopped in for a brew and some company to distract him. Instead, he’d spent the slow summer afternoon with his mom and Rosie, his two-year-old daughter, who were his first choice of company, anyhow.

      At least, Rosie was, always. His mom, not so much. Not when he had something on his mind. When he had worries, he also had all he could do to keep them from her sharp eyes. Somehow, yesterday, he had managed to get by without getting the third degree about anything.

      And today, he’d cleared his mind of Carly again.

      He intended to keep it cleared.

      He breathed a sigh of relief at his own determination, took a last slug of his beer and set the empty mug back on the bar.

      “Fill you up again?” the bartender asked.

      Luke nodded, then watched the man walk away with the mug.

      “Good service,” commented the guy a couple of stools to his right. He wore dress pants and too-shiny shoes. “Hope it stays that quick.”

      “It won’t once the crowd gets here,” Luke told him. Between the locals, whose Monday-morning quarterbacking usually lasted through the evening, and the city slickers like the one next to him, who liked to live life rough in the ’burbs, the bar wouldn’t be quiet for long.

      He glanced into the wall-length mirror lined with liquor bottles. It reflected most of the room as well as the Longhorn’s double glass doors, which had just opened to admit a couple of females. Familiar females. The one he took note of was hot and blonde and loaded for bear, judging by her expression when she caught his reflection in the glass.

      So much for clearing his mind of Carly Baron.

      “You sound like a regular,” the guy next to him said.

      “I stop in once in a while.” For two or three beers, his limit. He’d come tonight more to get away from his empty house and his own thoughts than to have a brew. And now look where that idea had gotten him.

      Carly wore jeans that hugged her hips and a shirt of some shimmery fabric. With every little move she made, the shirt caught the glow from the neon advertisements hung around the barroom. He tried not to follow the flashes of light in the mirror as she and her friend Kim sauntered across the sawdust-covered floor to seats at the far end of the bar.

      The guy to his right gave a low whistle. “Now, there’s a real babe.”

      Luke clamped his jaw shut.

      Once, Carly had meant everything to him. But that was years ago, before she’d accused him of using her to get ahead. Before she’d joined the ranks of folks who didn’t believe he could succeed on his own.

      Yeah, at the barbecue, Carly had hit the mark with her crack about making nice with the boss’s daughter. He had gone out of his way to talk with her, the way he stayed friendly with all Brock Baron’s kids.

      But, more to the point, the truth was, he’d chatted her up to show himself he could do it and walk away again. To prove she didn’t mean anything to him anymore. And he’d done exactly that, hadn’t he? She was just another woman to him now, right?

      A few people occupied stools between him and the women, but he could still see her in the mirror, her blond hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back, almost reaching the waistband of those snug jeans of hers. All too aware of his own jeans suddenly hugging tight, he shifted on his stool.

      The bartender dropped off his second beer. Luke clamped his fingers around the mug. As he nursed the drink along, a steady trickle of folks filled up the rest of the space between him and the two women and overflowed onto the dance floor. Somebody fed the jukebox in one corner. In another corner, a crowd began to gather around the mechanical bull.

      Over the buzz of conversation, Carly’s laugh rang out. He’d have recognized it anywhere.

      “Sounds as good as she looks,” said the guy near him. “You know her?”

      “Yeah.”

      “I wouldn’t mind an introduction—”

      Luke narrowed his eyes.

      “But, uh, I’m not asking,” the other man said in a rush. “I can see that would be a waste of my time.”

      Luke took a long, hard swallow from his mug. Irritation, like the guy to his right, had begun to grate on him. He wanted nothing to do with Carly.

      But he needed his job to provide for Rosie and Mom.

      Beer mug in hand, he rose from his bar stool.

      Time to go make nice with the boss’s daughter.

      * * *

      IN THE LONGHORN’S ladies’ room, Carly sidled past the crowd of chattering women primping at the long counter. She found a spot halfway down the room. But as she stared into the cloudy mirror, she wasn’t seeing her reflection.

      Instead, she saw Luke the day he had come to the Roughneck years ago.

      He’d looked so good in his worn jeans and white shirt, so tanned and fit and strong. For a moment, that overrode her concern at seeing him on the ranch. For another moment, she couldn’t fight the tremor of excitement and disbelief running through her. Couldn’t tamp down the rush of joy at knowing he was hers.

      Only a few days earlier, they had made love for the first time.

      Blinking, she looked away from the mirror. As she pulled her hairbrush from her bag, someone touched her back. She moved aside, thinking it was another woman trying get by in the tight space. Instead, the touch came again.

      She turned to find Kim close behind her.

      “Hey.” The women around them made enough noise to cover the sound of a gunshot. Still, Kim stepped closer and muttered, “Let’s go for a walk outside.”

      Carly laughed. “Kim Healy, gangster’s moll. What do you want to do, get me out in the parking lot so your boys can fit me up for