The Pines Of Winder Ranch: A Cold Creek Homecoming / A Cold Creek Reunion. RaeAnne Thayne

out into the hallway.

      He rose and followed her, careful not to disturb Jo, who seemed to have easily slipped into sleep again.

      “I’ll walk you out,” he said, his voice low, just as she reached the door.

      She whirled and splayed a hand across her chest. She glared at him as she moved out of the room to the hallway. He followed her and closed the door behind him.

      “Don’t do that! That’s the second time you’ve nearly scared the life out of me. How long have you been awake?”

      “Not long. Here, let me help you with your coat.”

      He took it off the chair in the hallway where she had tossed it and stood behind her. Her scent teased him, that delectable peach and vanilla, that somehow seemed sweet and sultry at the same time, like a hot Southern night.

      She paused for a moment, then extended her arm through the sleeve. “Thank you,” she said and he wondered if he was imagining the slightly husky note to her voice.

      “You’re welcome.”

      “You really don’t need to walk me out, though. I’m sure I can find the way to my car by myself.”

      “I could use the fresh air, to be honest with you.”

      She looked as if she wanted to argue but she only shrugged and turned toward the door. He held it open for her and again smelled that seductive scent as she moved past him on her way out.

      The scent seemed to curl through him, twisting and tugging an unwelcome response out of him, which he did his best to ignore as they walked out into the night.

      The moon hung huge over the western mountains now, the stars a bright glitter out here unlike anything to be found in the city.

      The October night wasn’t just cool now in the early morning hours, it was downright cold. This time of year, temperatures in these high mountain valleys could show a wide range in the course of a single day. Nights were invariably cool, even in summer. In spring and fall, the temperature dropped quickly once the sun went down.

      His morning spent in the garden soaking up sunshine with Jo seemed only another distant memory.

      “Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” Tess said. “I don’t ever get tired of the view out here.”

      He nodded. “I’ve lived without it since I left Cold Creek Canyon, but something about it stays inside me even when I’m back in Seattle.”

      She smiled a little. “I know I’m going to miss these mountains when I move to Portland in a few weeks.”

      “What’s in Portland?” he asked, curious as to why she would pick up and leave after her lifetime spent here.

      “A pretty good basketball team,” she answered. “Lots of trees and flowers. Nice people, from what I hear.”

      “You know what I mean. Why are you leaving?”

      She was silent for a moment, the only sound the wind whispering through the trees. “A whole truckload of reasons. Mostly, I guess, because I’m ready for a new start.”

      He could understand that. He had sought the same thing in the Air Force after leaving Pine Gulch, hadn’t he? A place where no one knew his history in the foster-care system or as the rough-edged punk who had found a home here with Jo and Guff.

      “Will you be doing the same thing? Providing end-of-life care?”

      She smiled and in the moonlight, she looked fresh and lovely and very much like the teenage cheerleader who had tangled the hormones of every boy who walked the halls of Pine Gulch High School.

      “Just the opposite, actually. I took a job in labor and delivery at one of the Portland hospitals.”

      “Bringing life into the world instead of comforting those who are leaving it. There’s a certain symmetry to that.”

      “I think so, too. It’s all part of my brand-new start.”

      “I suppose everybody could use that once in a while.”

      “True enough,” she murmured, with an unreadable look in her eyes.

      “Will you miss this?”

      “Pine Gulch?”

      “I was thinking more of the work you do. You seem...very good at it. Do you give this same level to all your patients as you have to Jo?”

      She looked startled at the question, though he wasn’t sure if was because she had never thought about it before or that she was surprised he had noticed.

      “I try. Everyone deserves to spend his or her last days with dignity and respect. But Jo is special. I can’t deny that. She used to give me piano lessons when I was young and I’ve always adored her.”

      Now it was his turn to be surprised. Jo taught piano lessons for many years to most of the young people in Pine Gulch but he had never realized Tess had once had the privilege of being one of her students.

      “Do you still play?”

      She laughed. “I hardly played then. I was awful. Probably the worst student Jo ever had, though she tried her best, believe me. But yes, I still play a little. I enjoy it much more as an adult than I did when I was ten.”

      She paused for a moment, then gave a rueful smile. “When he was...upset or having a bad day, Scott used to enjoy when I would play for him. It calmed him. I’ve had more practice than I ever expected over the years.”

      “You should play for Jo sometime when you come out to the house. She gets a real kick out of hearing her old students play. Especially the hard ones.”

      “Maybe. I’m worried her hearing is a little too fragile for my fumbling attempts.” She smiled. “What about you? Did Jo give you lessons after you moved here?”

      He gave a short laugh at the memory. “She tried. I’m sure I could have taught you a thing or two about being difficult.”

      “I don’t doubt that for a moment,” she murmured.

      She gazed at him for a moment, then she shifted her gaze up and he could swear he saw a million constellations reflected in her eyes.

      “Look!” she exclaimed. “A shooting star, right over the top of Windy Peak. Quick, make a wish.”

      He tilted his neck to look in the direction she pointed. “Probably just a satellite.”

      She glared at him. “Don’t ruin it. I’m making a wish anyway.”

      With her eyes screwed closed, she pursed her mouth in concentration. “There,” she said after a moment. “That should do it.”

      She opened her eyes and smiled softly at him and he forgot all about the cold night air. All he could focus on was that smile, that mouth, and the sudden wild hunger inside him to taste it.

      “What did you wish?” he asked, a gruff note to his voice.

      She made a face. “If I tell you, it won’t come true. Don’t you know anything about wishes?”

      Right now, he could tell her a thing or two about wanting something he shouldn’t. That sensuous heat wrapped tighter around his insides. “I know enough. I know sometimes wishes can be completely ridiculous and make no sense. For instance, right now, I wish I could kiss you. Don’t ask me why. I don’t even like you.”

      Her eyes looked huge and green in her delicate face as she stared at him. “Okay,” she said, her voice breathy.

      “Okay, I can kiss you? Or, okay, you won’t ask why I want to?”

      She let out a ragged-sounding breath. “Either. Both.”

      He didn’t need much more of an invitation than that. Without allowing himself to stop and think through the insanity of kissing a woman he had detested twenty-four hours earlier,