Montana Daddy. Charlotte Maclay

store swooped into the house, a heavy winter jacket covering her floral-print dress, a casserole dish in her hands. “I saw the car outside and thought—My sakes, is that little Kristi all grown up?”

      Kristi eased past Rory, grateful for the interruption. With his chiseled features, burnished complexion and midnight-black hair, he was simply too potent, too masculine for her comfort. And he brought back far too many memories she’d valiantly tried to suppress. Her emotions were bouncing all over the place—residual anger, a too-foolish joy at seeing him and a clawing fear that her return to Grass Valley might be a terrible mistake.

      There’d been no way she could refuse her grandmother’s request to help her—not the woman who had been her mentor and had once saved her life.

      She’d known that in coming here she would have to face Rory sooner or later. She’d hoped for a little more time to adjust to the idea, to prepare herself for what she had to tell him. As usual, when it came to Rory Oakes, her wish hadn’t been granted.

      “Hello, Mrs. Moore. How are you?”

      “Fit as can be. And aren’t you just as pretty as ever. Isn’t that so, Rory?”

      He’d come up behind Kristi, close enough that she imagined she could feel the heat of his body, his raging metabolism. Her own flesh warmed at the thought, the memory of how he had once held her in his ardent embrace. In the hallway, he’d towered over her. Even now with her back turned to him, he dominated the entire room and every molecule of her awareness.

      “Yes, ma’am.” he said. “I was just telling her that.”

      With hands that trembled, Kristi set aside her grandmother’s crutches and took the casserole dish from Hetty. “Thank you. I was just going to fix something for Grandma to eat. She hates hospital food.”

      “It’s only hot dogs and macaroni but it’s one of Justine’s favorites. Can’t think why she didn’t ask a neighbor to pick her up in Great Falls instead of having you come all this way.”

      “Yes, well, she wanted me to—”

      From the bathroom Justine shouted, “You folks gonna strand me in here forever? Somebody bring me those darn crutches.”

      “I’ll get ’em.”

      Rory reached past Kristi for the crutches, and she quickly scooted out of his way. Even so, she caught the scent of his sheepskin jacket, an elemental fragrance much like the man himself. He wore his cowboy hat low on his forehead, shadowing his dark eyes and concealing his jet-black hair, creating the air of a loner.

      There was another knock on the front door.

      “That’ll be Marlene Huhn,” Hetty said. “Probably bringing some of her German potato salad for Justine to gag down. She uses too much vinegar, you know.”

      Involuntarily, Kristi’s lips puckered. She remembered the dish from church potlucks. “I’ll let her in.”

      On the porch, she discovered Valery Haywood had arrived along with Marlene Huhn. The two women, their faces etched from years of exposure to the Montana sun, squeezed inside together, not wanting the other one to get a head start on the latest gossip.

      “I brought some ham mixed with the string beans I put up from the garden last summer,” Mrs. Haywood said. “Thought Justine would enjoy some veggies.”

      “I brought my hot potato salad. Made it special for Justine.”

      “That’s very thoughtful of you both.” Without a free hand to take the dishes, Kristi gestured toward the kitchen. “Could you put them in the refrigerator for me?”

      “Ja, we can do that. How is Justine? We all just felt awful about her falling down,” Marlene said, still a trace of a German accent in her voice.

      “She’s a little cranky but I’m sure—”

      Justine hobbled into the living room on her crutches, Rory helping her. “You’d be cranky, too, little girl, if you had to haul around twenty pounds of plaster attached to your foot.” With an irritated sigh, she plopped down on the chintz-covered couch.

      Kristi rolled her eyes. In her experience as a registered nurse—and more recently as a nurse practitioner—doctors made the worst possible patients. Her grandmother was no exception. The next couple of weeks, while Justine recovered from her injury and Kristi assisted with her medical practice, were going to be difficult at best.

      Within minutes, more neighbors arrived until the refrigerator was crammed with casseroles and the kitchen table covered with cakes and pies. Most of the ladies stayed to visit, crowding into the small living room.

      “Tell us, Kristi,” Hetty said, “what have you been up to these past few years? Your grandmother never talks much about you or your mother. How’s your family, dear?”

      Justine snorted. “I don’t gossip like some folks I know, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

      Kristi’s gaze slid to Rory, who was standing on the far side of the room. He’d removed his hat and was smiling at her, his dark eyes filled with amusement at the antics of the well-meaning town busy-bodies. Her heart lunged at the sight of him, skipping a beat, and an unwelcome ache of loneliness filled her chest.

      Mentally she redefined the next two weeks from difficult to impossible. That she had agreed to come here at all was clear evidence she’d lost every ounce of good sense she’d ever possessed.

      The very last thing she wanted was for Rory to be privy to a conversation about her and her family.

      “Ladies, I know my grandmother appreciates your concern and all the food you’ve brought, but she’s had a long, difficult few days since she broke her ankle. Give her some time to catch up on her rest. Then she’ll be happy to visit with you, I’m sure.”

      Holding her breath while the neighbor ladies said their goodbyes, Kristi deliberately avoided looking at Rory, which didn’t prevent her from feeling his gaze on her. Boring into her psyche. Probing her secret thoughts.

      Her sense of guilt brought a flush to her face, and she knew darn well she looked as guilty as she felt, like a five-year-old who had snitched more than one cookie from the cookie jar. Which in a way, she had.

      Finally, after the others had left and the room grew quiet, Rory got the hint.

      “Guess I’d better be going, too.” He sauntered across the room toward her.

      “Yes, that would be best—for Grandma.”

      “Shoot, honey,” Justine said, “those folks brought us enough food for an army. Might as well ask Rory to stay for supper.”

      Kristi blanched. “No, I don’t think—”

      “Thanks, anyway, Doc. I’ve got an injured elk in my back pen that I’ve got to feed. He fell through some thin river ice a couple of weeks back and got stuck.” He tugged the collar of his coat up around his neck, winked at Kristi and lowered his voice. “I’ve never been too fond of Marlene Huhn’s potato salad, anyway.”

      By the time the door closed behind Rory, Kristi knew she wouldn’t be able to draw an easy breath until she was miles from Grass Valley and her secret was safe again.

      She’d been a fool to come here at all, no matter how much her grandmother had begged on the phone from her hospital bed. The people of Grass Valley could drive a few extra miles for the next two weeks if they needed doctoring.

      She shouldn’t have risked returning to the town—or the man who had broken her heart. Forget her conscience had been bothering her for years for not telling him the truth. He’d been the one who hadn’t returned her phone calls. He was the one who’d found someone else.

      Her stomach knotted in despair.

      She would be the one to suffer if she didn’t confront Rory and her fears. Until she did that, she’d never be able to get on