Lone Star Winter: The Winter Soldier. Diana Palmer

tell anyone else.

      “Go on,” he coaxed. “Get everything off your chest. I’m a clam. I don’t tell anything I know, and I’m not judgmental.”

      “I think I sensed that.” She sighed. “Want some coffee? I have to drink decaf, but I could make some.”

      “I hate decaf, but I’ll drink it.”

      She smiled. She got up and filled the pot and the filter and started the coffeemaker while she got down white mugs. She glanced at him with pursed lips. “Black,” she guessed.

      He gave her an annoyed look. “Don’t get conceited because you know how I take my coffee.”

      “I won’t.”

      She poured the coffee into the cups and sat back down, watching as he cupped his left hand around it. “Does it still hurt?” she asked, referring to the burns on his hand.

      “Not as much as it used to,” he said flatly.

      “You don’t have anyone to talk to, either, do you?”

      He shook his head. “I’m not much for bars, and the only friend I have is Eb. Now that he’s married, we don’t spend a lot of time together.”

      “It’s worse when you hold things inside,” she murmured absently, staring into her coffee. “Everybody thinks I had a fairy-tale marriage with a sexy man who loved danger and could have had any woman he wanted.” She smiled wryly. “At first I thought so, too. He seemed like a dream come true. Boy, did my illusions leave skid marks taking off!”

      “So did mine,” he said flatly.

      She leaned forward, feeling daring. “Yes, but I’ll bet you weren’t a virgin who thought people did it in the dark fully clothed!”

      He burst out laughing. He hadn’t felt like laughing since…he couldn’t remember. Her eyes bubbled with joy; her laugh was infectious. She made him hungry, thirsty, desperate for the delight she engendered.

      She grinned. “There. You look much less intimidating when you smile. And before you regret telling me secrets, I’d better mention that I’ve never told anybody what my best friend did on our senior trip to Florida. And I won’t tell you now.”

      “Was it scandalous?”

      “It was for Jacobsville.” She chuckled.

      “Didn’t you do anything scandalous?”

      “Not me,” she popped back. “I’m the soul of propriety. My dad used to say that I was the suffering conscience of the world.” Her eyes darkened. “He died of a stroke while he was using the tiller out in the garden. When he didn’t come in for lunch, I knew something was wrong. I went out to find him.” She moved her coffee cup on the table. “He was sitting against a tree with his thermos jug of coffee still in his hands, his eyes wide-open, stone dead.” She shivered. “Mom had died when I was in sixth grade, of cancer. Dad loved her so much. He loved me, too.” She lifted her sad eyes. “I sup pose I’d rather have had him for a short time than not to have had him at all. Walter felt sorry for me and asked me to marry him, because I was so alone. He’d just lost the woman he loved and I think he wanted to marry me just to spite her. The ranch was a bonus. I was really infatuated with him at first, and he liked me and loved this ranch. I figured we had as good a chance of making a marriage work as people who were passionately in love.” She sighed again. “Isn’t hindsight wonderful?”

      He leaned back in his chair and looked at her for a long time. “You’re a tonic,” he said abruptly. “You’re astringent and sometimes you sting, but I like being around you.”

      “Thanks. I think,” she added.

      “Oh, it’s a compliment,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t offer you anything except the truth.”

      “That really is a compliment.”

      “Glad you noticed.”

      “What happened to the drunk cowboy?” she asked.

      “Luke’s wife is getting him into a halfway house,” he mused. “A real crusader, that lady. She is a bleeding heart.”

      “She likes lost causes,” she countered. “I’ve heard a lot about her, and I like what I’ve heard. If I can get this ranch back on its feet, I’d like to help her.”

      “Another latent crusader,” he teased.

      “A lot of people need saving, and there aren’t a lot of reformers around,” she pointed out.

      “True enough.”

      “Thanks for sending that other man over to keep a lookout. He’s very nice. Did you know that he likes to do needlepoint?” she asked matter-of-factly.

      He nodded. “Nels does some exhibition-quality handwork. Nobody teases him about it, either. At least, not since he knocked Sid Turpen into the water trough.”

      She chuckled. “He looked like that sort of man. I knit,” she said. “Not very well, but it gives me something to do when I’m by myself.”

      “You’re always by yourself,” he said quietly. “Why don’t you come home with me one or two evenings a week and we can watch television after I’ve finished with the books. I could come and fetch you.”

      Her heart jumped. She didn’t need telling that he’d never made that invitation to anyone else. He was like a wounded wolf in his lair most of the time. “Wouldn’t I be in the way?” she asked.

      He shook his head. “I’m alone, too. You and the baby would be good company before and after he’s born. You don’t have a husband anymore. I don’t have a family,” he said bluntly. “I’d like to help you through the next few months. No strings,” he added firmly. “And absolutely no ulterior motives. Just friendship.”

      She was touched. He made her feel welcome, warm and safe. She knew that a lot of people were intimidated by him, and that he was very standoffish. It was a huge compliment he was paying her. “Thanks,” she said genuinely. “I’ll take you up on that.”

      He sipped his coffee and put the cup down. “It might be good for both of us to spend less time alone with the past.”

      “Is that what you do, too, thinking about how it might have been, if…” She let the word trail away.

      “If,” he agreed, nodding. “If I’d smelled the smoke sooner, if I’d gone to bed earlier, if I’d realized that Lopez might send someone after me even from prison…and so forth.”

      “I kept thinking, what if I hadn’t got pregnant so soon after I married,” she confessed. “But I’m not sorry I did, really,” she added with a tiny smile. “I like it.”

      He searched her dark eyes for longer than he wanted to and dragged his attention away. All at once, he glanced at his watch and grimaced. “Good Lord, I almost forgot! I’ve got a meeting at the bank this morning that I can’t miss—refinancing a loan so that I can replace my combine.” He got to his feet. “No other problems except for drunk cowboys in your bed?” he asked whimsically.

      She glared at him. “Don’t look at me, I didn’t put him there!”

      His eyes roamed over her and he smiled slowly. “His loss.”

      “You get out of here, you fresh varmint,” she said, rising. “And there’s no use trying to seduce me, either. I’m immune.”

      “Really?” he asked with raised eyebrows and a twinkle in his green eyes. “Shall we test that theory?” He took a step in her direction.

      She flushed and backed up a step. “You stop that,” she muttered.

      He chuckled as he reached for his hat. “Don’t retreat. I’ll keep to my side of the line in the sand. Keep that door locked,” he added then, and not with a smile. “I’m having you watched, just