Westin's Wyoming. Alice Sharpe

standing at the counter, was in the process of hanging a ceramic cup on the wrought-iron mug tree Adam had made back in high school. Each big cup was bright red. Some were chipped, all were stained by coffee brewed strong enough to usher a man into the frozen predawn morning, and yet they’d been hanging in the same places for twenty years. Amazing.

      The retriever sat by Pauline’s legs, begging. Both Pauline and Bonnie turned at their entrance.

      “Oh my, you must be the princess,” Pauline gushed. “I’ve seen your photograph in the magazines, but you’re twice as pretty in person.” She managed a little self-conscious curtsey, her graying hair swinging around her face as she dipped her head. She was a good-looking sixty-something-year-old woman who had been at the ranch for at least twenty years.

      The dog trotted over and sniffed Analise’s hands. The princess knelt and ran her slender fingers over the animal’s smooth head.

      “She’s a lovely dog,” she said, looking up at Pauline. “Is she yours?”

      “Oh, no, she’s Cody’s dog. Well, actually, she belonged to his wife, Cassie, but Cassie left without taking her—” Pauline put two fingers against her lips and cast Pierce a glance. “Sorry, I got to rambling…”

      “It’s okay,” he told her. He looked at the princess and added, “Marriages have a way of turning out bad in this family.” He introduced the housekeeper as the heart and soul of the Open Sky Ranch.

      “I’m so pleased to have you here, Your Highness,” Pauline said as Analise stood. “Your maid said you weren’t to be disturbed so I didn’t bring you lunch and Pierce, I was coming to see what you wanted.”

      “I’ll take care of both of us, Pauline,” Pierce said.

      Pauline shook her head as she turned to the stove and took the lid off a huge pot. A wave of fragrant steam brought the heady aroma of meat and vegetables. “I can’t get over how different you are,” she said over her shoulder as she replaced the lid. “I mean from the boy who stormed away fifteen years ago. That boy didn’t spend any time in the kitchen unless it was to eat.”

      “That boy didn’t need to. He had you spoiling him rotten,” Pierce said with a fond smile.

      “Well, your brothers still can’t cook. Might have done them both good to get out on their own for a while.”

      “They’ll both die here with their boots on, you know that. Meanwhile, have you seen a big guy dressed in black? Sunglasses, bald, intimidating?”

      “I caught a glimpse of him outside when I took your father his lunch but I haven’t seen him since. I’m sure he’s around somewhere. I could use some of his muscle to tote things outside for the cookout.”

      “I imagine much of the work for the cookout will go to you, Pauline,” Princess Analise said. “I want to thank you in advance and apologize for any trouble.”

      “Mercy me,” Pauline said, waving away the princess’s concern. “We’re used to coming up with meals in a hurry.” She nodded at the pot on the stove. “I’ve already started a stew. The boys will take it out later and grill steaks and maybe hot dogs for your little cousin. We’ve got a big pot of beans going out there already and I’ll whip up some slaw, heat loaves of bread and fry potatoes. Berry cobbler fresh from the freezer for dessert. The boys are all looking forward to it.”

      She took her coat off a hook by the door and shrugged it on. Looking at Pierce, she added, “If I can’t help you, I’m going to go get your father’s dirty dishes. Come on, Bonnie, let’s go see Birch.”

      As soon as they’d left, Pierce put both hands on Analise’s shoulders and gently pushed her down atop a stool pulled up to a huge cutting block island.

      Without the distraction of a padded coat, the full force of her body kept hitting him like a two-by-four. Round breasts filled the oyster-white silk blouse styled like a Western shirt but tailored perfectly. Her jeans looked as though they’d been made just for her, maybe even sewn onto her slender hips by a half dozen hand maidens wielding needles and thread. A simple diamond flower twinkled in the sensuous hollow of her throat.

      And she smelled good. Not exactly perfume, not flowery but not heavily musky, either. He had the overwhelming urge to bury his nose against her skin and inhale deeply, filling his lungs with her essence. To be truthful—he had urges that went a lot deeper than those. Good thing there was a no-trespassing sign hanging around her pretty neck or he’d have a hard time concentrating.

      He turned away and opened the refrigerator. “I’m making you lunch,” he announced as he gathered supplies. Unwrapping the bread Pauline had baked earlier in the day, he added, “I’d sure like to hear about that photo you mentioned.”

      Analise fidgeted on the stool for a minute as he sliced leftover roast beef, grown on the ranch, the product of his brother Adam’s ranching techniques. Stemming his own impatience as Analise obviously sought a way to broach whatever it was she had to say, he kept quiet. She finally murmured, “Did you know your mother went to college with mine?”

      “No,” he said, glancing up at her as he sliced cheese. “I didn’t know that.”

      “They were roommates as required by the school for all entering freshmen. I think because my mother was a prime minister’s daughter and yours was a governor’s daughter, school officials thought they would get along well.”

      Pierce cut the huge sandwich and placed half on his plate and half on hers. He poured two glasses of milk and handed her share over, then sat down on a stool across from her. “I know my mother went to a private university in New York, but that’s about all. My grandfather died before I was born, and Mom, well, she left when I was a little kid. I haven’t seen or heard from her since then.”

      The princes ignored the food as she leaned across the bar, hands clasped. “Our mothers became great friends,” she began. “Confidantes, actually. They roomed together for several years until my mother left to go back to Chatioux to marry my father and your mother left to marry your father and come live in Wyoming.”

      Pierce swallowed a bite and nodded. “Okay.”

      “The photo I’ve seen many times over the years is a framed one sitting on my mother’s bureau of her and your mother at school. They are both nineteen years old and look so happy and excited.”

      Pierce nodded again. What memories he had of his mother suggested this was an accurate description of her. He could vaguely recall lively eyes and a ready laugh. Yet as he drank the milk, he asked himself if this tenuous connection was a disappointment. Had he somewhere in the back of his head expected Analise to say she’d seen his mother relatively recently? Had he hoped for an explanation of some kind?

      Of course he had.

      He put the glass down and watched Analise try to take a dainty bite of a man-size hunk of beef. “So how does this tie into you being here?”

      She met his gaze. “Our mothers stayed in touch at first. That’s how I knew about you and your brothers. Anyway, now Mother is interested in knowing how her old friend’s family is doing.”

      “After thirty years?”

      “Your mother’s disappearance was a shock to her, too,” Analise said as she set her uneaten sandwich back on the plate. “For years she expected Melissa to write or phone or come for a visit, but she never did.”

      “Yeah, well, Mom took off with another man, you know.”

      “Did your father ever try to find her?”

      “Are you kidding? Everyone tried to find her. The police thought he’d hurt her. It was a zoo around here until she sent a postcard. She said she’d had enough, that this wasn’t the life for her. Eventually I guess she made new friends and had new kids and forgot all about the old ones.”

      “Do you believe that?”

      “Yes.”

      “Do