.

kitchen at the other side of the house. In the thick silence, her pulse sounded loud and strident in her ears. She was more edgy than she cared to admit, a realization that sent fresh anger coursing through her.

      This house, with its softly weathered logs and its wraparound porch, was her haven now. She had no reason to be afraid here anymore and she hated that someone could dredge up all these old feelings. If it was Patch playing a trick, she planned to give him an earful he wouldn’t soon forget.

      She walked into the big kitchen, expecting somebody to jump out any minute with a gleeful “boo,” but the room was empty.

      She scratched the back of her head, baffled and uneasy. Was she going crazy? She had heard the door open and close, hadn’t she?

      Maybe not. Maybe she was hearing things. Maybe she was just overwrought from all the stress of the day before.

      It was the only explanation, since there was obviously no one in the house and a quick glance out the kitchen window showed no one between the house and the outbuildings except a few chickens scratching through the snow looking for lunch.

      She couldn’t see any tracks on the walk either, but C.J. had cleared most of the snow away this morning and the rest was so packed it probably wouldn’t show anything.

      This was too creepy. Maybe she ought to go take a look upstairs….

      The phone suddenly jangled loudly in the silence, sending her jumping at least a foot into the air. She grabbed at her chest where her heart threatened to hammer through her rib cage. “It’s just the phone, you big baby,” she chided herself, and crossed to the wall unit next to the refrigerator.

      “Hello?” Despite her best efforts to calm herself, her pulse still fluttered wildly.

      “Hey. I hear you’re on the lookout for a new foreman.”

      She slumped against the counter at the familiar voice of her closest neighbor and pushed away the rest of her lingering unease. “Hey, Colt. News travels fast.”

      “It does when it’s bad news. What the hell is Joe thinking? He can’t leave you in the lurch like that, right before spring planting.”

      “He’s given me two months’ notice—more than anyone else would. I can’t ask for more than that.”

      “I can. I’m coming over to talk some sense into him.”

      She ground her teeth. Lord spare her from arrogant men who didn’t think she was competent enough to brush her teeth without them standing over her checking every last inch of enamel.

      Colton McKendrick grew up on the adjacent ranch, the Broken Spur, where Joe’s father had worked. And just like Joe, he thought it was his mission in life to watch out for her. Even though she had been four years younger than the boys, they were the only other kids for miles so the three of them had been inseparable, always tumbling into one scrape after another.

      Before her divorce, Joe had run the Broken Spur for him while Colt devoted himself first to the military and then to FBI undercover work, trying to outrun his ghosts.

      She loved him dearly and was thrilled that his days of running were over, but she wished just once he and Joe would both realize she was all grown up and could take care of herself.

      Most of the time, anyway.

      “Colt, stay out of it. This is something Joe wants to do and I’ve accepted that. You should, too.”

      “Bull. You need him.”

      “I need a foreman,” she answered. “But it doesn’t necessarily have to be Joe Redhawk.”

      “He’s the best there is. Dammit, how can he just run out on you like this?”

      “You’ll have to ask him that.”

      “I plan to, right now. I’m on my way.”

      Colt severed the connection before she could argue with him. She had barely returned the phone to the receiver and put more coffee on when she heard the crunch of truck tires on snow out front, followed by a vehicle door slamming.

      She opened the mudroom door before he could knock and was pleased to see Colt helping his very pregnant wife up the walk.

      “What did you do, call from the mailbox?” she teased when they were safely inside.

      “Just about. Aren’t cellular phones something?” He grinned and pulled her into a quick hug.

      When he released her, she turned to his wife. “No office hours today, Maggie?”

      “I don’t have any patients scheduled until this afternoon since I had my own appointment with Dr. Marcus.”

      “And what did he say?”

      “Everything’s fine. He moved my due date up to mid-April. It won’t be a moment too soon, as far as I’m concerned. I feel as big as one of those Herefords out there.”

      Annie smiled. Colt and Maggie had married just weeks after her divorce and in the time since, she had come to love Colt’s sweetly elegant wife almost as much as she did him. There was a bond between the two women, forged of shared pain and rare understanding.

      “You look absolutely radiant,” Annie said.

      “Everybody always says that to fat old pregnant women.”

      “Because it’s true.” It was. Maggie’s eyes were soft, serene, and her skin glowed with an inner tranquility that had to come from knowing her husband adored her and was thrilled about the child they had created together.

      For just a moment, Annie tasted bitter envy in her mouth. She hadn’t experienced that contentment with either of her pregnancies. Instead, she had known only that trapped, powerless fear.

      Dammit. She wanted to pinch herself, hard. Couldn’t she even be happy for two of her closest friends in the world over the upcoming birth of their child without this blasted self-pity taking over? She had two beautiful children, a ranch some men would kill for, and good friends like the McKendricks. Why couldn’t she let that be enough?

      “Where’s Joe?” Colt asked.

      She swallowed the envy and poured coffee, black the way he liked it. Maggie, she knew, was staying away from caffeine for the baby’s sake, so she put water on to boil for herbal tea.

      “We lost the roof on one of the hay sheds in the wind last night,” she answered. “The men are doing their best to patch it together. What about the Broken Spur? How did you fare in the storm?”

      “Lost three calves but it could have been a lot worse.” He sipped his coffee. “Now suppose you tell me what burr Joe’s got in his britches about taking some fool job in Wyoming.”

      She busied herself rifling through the cupboard for the tea bags. “It sounds like a good opportunity for him.”

      “What does he think he’s going to find at some stranger’s ranch in Wyoming that he can’t get in Madison Valley?”

      “You’ll have to ask him that,” she said quietly.

      “I’m asking you. What happened between you two?”

      “Nothing.” She shut the cupboard door with a little more force than necessary. “Absolutely nothing. Why would you think that? Things are just fine between us.”

      Unless you count the way he couldn’t stand to touch her and the way he sometimes went out of his way to avoid even looking at her.

      “So why is he in such a big hurry to leave?”

      She thought of those moments in the barn the day before and that rare vulnerability she had glimpsed in Joe.

      Would she be breaking a confidence to talk to Colt about it? No. Colt cared about Joe. The two men shared a friendship closer than blood. Maybe if he knew the truth, Colt wouldn’t push him to stay against his will.

      She