An Early Christmas Gift. Susan Crosby

felt as if she’d plunged headlong into a wind tunnel. She saw his mouth moving but couldn’t hear the words over the roar in her head. Denied. She’d been counting on—

      “I wish I could refer you to someone else, Jenny, but I doubt you’ll find a bank willing to give a novice a loan. Unless, of course, your father will cosign, but you indicated you didn’t want to ask him. Without collateral and a great deal of experience in the field, no one will want to take that kind of risk. You don’t even have an income.”

      Technically she had collateral. She just couldn’t use it. “If I got the loan, I’d have a job,” she said, trying to smile. Keeping a tight rein on her emotions, she shook his hand before she escaped. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Campbell. I appreciate it.”

      “Wish I had a different answer for you.”

      “Me, too.”

      Thirty seconds later she was headed out of town, going nowhere in particular. Just going.

      * * *

      Win Morgan had heard Jenny Ryder was coming home. He’d checked her college’s website for the date of her graduation ceremony—June eighth—and figured she’d be back this week, but he hadn’t expected to see her right away.

      But there she was, almost burning rubber as she took the main road out of town in her fuel-efficient car, which stuck out like a sore thumb among the abundance of pickup trucks.

      Win grimaced as she swerved to avoid a truck pulling away from the curb, but it didn’t slow her down. She was upset. Or mad.

      Or afraid of something?

      She’d always been a little high-strung and a lot stubborn, but four years of college should’ve settled her some, matured her.

      Worried, he got into his truck and followed. He had something important to tell her, had already waited too long to do so. Now was as good a time as any—especially since calling on her at Ryder Ranch was impossible. He was a Morgan, after all, and therefore from the enemy camp, their families rival cattle ranchers for more than 150 years.

      A light rain started splattering his windshield as Win scouted the land for signs of her. Hay fields claimed most of the area, except for a grove of trees way off in the distance, at river’s edge. Would she have gone there? It seemed unlikely, but there wasn’t anywhere else. She would’ve been kicking up dust if it hadn’t been sprinkling, which lessened his odds of tracking her.

      As he neared the grove, he spotted her fire-engine-red car headfirst in a ditch. Panic struck, then he saw her pop up and start kicking a tire again and again. “I work hard,” she shouted. “Harder than any man.”

      Her feet went out from under her. She landed with a thud, yelling “Ouch!” then adding a few expletives for good measure.

      He made his way toward the ditch. If she’d seen him, she hadn’t given any indication of it. “You okay?”

      Her eyes went wide. Then she curled her arms over her face and laughed, the tone more manic than humorous. “Great. This is just great. The worst moment of my life, and you’re the one who witnesses it. My luck runneth over.”

      He crouched next to her, eyeing her for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

      “Just my pride. And my car.” She waved a hand toward the offending vehicle.

      Apparently she was blaming the car, not the operator, for the accident. “Why were you driving like a bat outta hell?”

      “It doesn’t matter.” Her shoulders slumped.

      He’d rather see her mad than defeated, so he strode away. He heard her scramble to her feet.

      “Wait. Please, Win. What about my car?” She hurried after him.

      “I’m sure any of your big brothers or your father will come to your rescue.” He turned and walked backward, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah. No cell service out here. Well, good luck with that, princess.”

      She plunked her fists on her hips. Good. He’d made her mad. She was back to being Jenny.

      “You must own a satellite phone,” she said.

      “Must I?” He hadn’t imagined wanting her still, not after all this time. The shock of it burst inside him, sending need and pain through every cell, every nerve. He had to fight the desire that had never died.

      “Did you follow me?” she asked, narrowing her gaze at him, brushing the rain from her face.

      “I wanted to talk to you.”

      “About what?”

      He hesitated. They were already taking one secret to their graves. He couldn’t hold tight to his bigger secret, one that affected her, too. Still, he didn’t know if he could tell her now. They were both too charged up, even if for different reasons....

      Coward.

      Damn straight.

      “You cut your hair,” he said.

      She touched it but said nothing as they faced each other like duelists. Then the rain stopped being just a sprinkle and turned into a torrent. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him to his truck. The same truck in which they’d slept together for the first time four years ago. How the hell was he supposed to chase that image away?

      “Do you have a towel or something?” Jenny asked, shoving her dripping hair from her face and plucking at her white blouse.

      A blue bandanna landed in her lap.

      “That’s all I have. Sorry.”

      Jenny used it on her face. It smelled like him. Even after all these years, she remembered how he smelled. Tasted. Felt. His brown eyes and hair might be considered ordinary, but there was nothing ordinary about him. He was drop-dead gorgeous, and all man.

      And the attraction was still there, sizzling, as if it had happened yesterday. It was why she’d avoided him every time she’d come home on school breaks.

      Then she remembered he said he had something to tell her. Her heart pounded. She looked at his left hand. No ring. But maybe that was about to change.

      She touched his bare ring finger, then jerked her hand back. Idiot. She had no claims on him. Why did she think she had the right—

      “I haven’t gotten married,” he said. “Guess you ruined me for anyone else.”

      She couldn’t tell whether that was the truth or he was trying to lighten the moment with sarcasm. “Are you living with someone?”

      His brows went up, but he answered, “Six ranch hands in a bunkhouse.”

      “Are you sleeping with anyone?” Mortified, she shoved her face in her hands. “Forget that. Please. I don’t know why I asked.”

      He seemed amused by her embarrassment. “Well, there’s a mouse who seems particularly fond of me.” He took the bandanna she tossed back at him and dried his face. “Why are you interested in my love life, Jen?”

      “You said you wanted to talk to me. I figured...” She let the words trail. Really, what else could it be, except that he was seeing someone? She made a sound of helplessness. “I could really use a drink about now.”

      He leaned behind the driver’s seat and grabbed a sack. “Your wish is my command,” he said, presenting her with the six-pack of beer he’d just bought, bowing slightly, the steering wheel keeping the gesture small.

      It made her smile. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

      He put away the bag. “Well, thanks for the walk down memory lane, anyway,” he said, glancing at her wet shirt.

      Just having him look at her made her nipples go hard. She put an arm across her breasts, covering herself, but hiding wouldn’t do any good, and she knew it. He would remember what she looked like, the same