Jessie's Child. Lois Faye Dyer

the change.”

      “Thanks.” She flashed him a quick, appreciative smile. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?”

      “Not exactly,” he drawled. “I grew up here.”

      “Really?” She cocked her head, eyeing him curiously. “Why haven’t I seen you in the restaurant before?”

      “I’ve been away.” Zach slipped his wallet into his jeans’ back pocket, glancing sideways as the door opened.

      The woman who stepped over the threshold was young, her slim shape clothed in a conservative cream business suit. Her face was turned away from him as she spoke to the man behind her, giving Zach a view of deep auburn hair and the pure lines of her profile.

      His memories of Jessie McCloud were vivid and powerful but the woman in front of him was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. A slam of pure longing, lust and need rocked him. He’d expected the lust. The instant ache of yearning need stunned him.

      She laughed at a low-voiced comment from the older man and turned, taking two steps into the café before her gaze met Zach’s and she abruptly halted.

      Her eyes widened and her face paled. Emotions moved swiftly across her expressive features—shock and stunned surprise, quickly followed by a brief glimpse of what Zach thought was raw pain. Then her eyes shuttered and her face smoothed, concealing what she’d just revealed as effectively as if she’d drawn a curtain closed.

      “Zach.” The faint inclination of her head was polite, her voice cool and distant.

      “Jessie.” He touched the brim of his hat, his gaze flicking to the elderly man standing at her elbow. He didn’t recognize him, but the Stetson, jeans and boots he wore marked him as a rancher.

      The man nodded politely. In the moment it took for Zach to nod in response and return his attention to Jessie, she’d walked away from him toward the back of the café.

      Ignoring the curious glance from the man with her, Zach left the café. He strode down the sidewalk toward the feed store, oblivious to the people he passed and the sound of traffic on the street.

      He’d thought about Jessie more often than he cared to admit during the last four years, and in the weeks since he’d returned to Wolf Creek, she’d haunted his dreams every night.

      He hadn’t expected her to welcome him with open arms, but neither had he thought she’d turn and walk away as if she hated the sight of him.

      “Zach!”

      He looked up and cursed silently. Harlan Kerrigan stepped out of his office and stood only yards in front of him. Zach, not yet ready to deal with his uncle, had ignored the messages Harlan had left on his answering machine. He still didn’t want to talk to the man.

      But he closed the distance between them. “Afternoon, Harlan.”

      “Afternoon, Zach. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

      “Sorry, I’ve got a sick horse I have to check on. Maybe some other time.”

      Harlan’s mouth tightened, his ruddy complexion darkening. His eyes reflected his annoyance but he surprised Zach when he didn’t insist. “Let’s make it soon.”

      Zach nodded and went his way.

      What the hell is Harlan up to? It wasn’t like him to give up easily. Zach made a mental note to ask his mother and sister if Harlan had approached either of them and if he had, what he’d wanted from them.

      Seated in a booth in the café, Jessie reined in her emotions, slammed them into a locked corner of her mind and focused on lunch. Ed Sanders was an old friend of her father’s and when he’d called her office for an appointment to update his will, she’d been delighted. They finished his legal work just before noon and his offer to buy her lunch was a welcome diversion. She hadn’t given a thought to the possibility of running into Zach.

      So she’d been totally unprepared when she did. The shock and heartache that followed had nearly paralyzed her. The only response she could manage was a brief greeting followed by a swift escape to the back of the café.

      She managed to chat and laugh at Ed’s jokes but when she returned to her office after lunch, she had no clear memory of their conversation.

      “Hi, Jessie.” Tina, the single mother of three who expertly ran the business side of Jessie’s law office, looked up and smiled when Jessie entered. “How was lunch?”

      “Fine.” Jessie murmured her thanks when Tina handed her several pink phone message slips. She glanced quickly through them. “The Auditor’s Office didn’t call back with the information on Dad’s title search?”

      “Not yet. Would you like me to check with them again?”

      “That would be great, thanks, Tina.” Jessie was legal counsel for McCloud Enterprises and the work often involved property acquisitions. The latest negotiation for a thousand acres of ranchland was proving tricky due to a potential clouded title issue. Her father was impatient to finalize the deal and she wanted the situation resolved as quickly as possible.

      Tina picked up the phone and dialed as Jessie crossed the reception area and walked into her office, closing the door behind her. She dropped the message slips on her desk and sat in the comfortable leather chair, pulling open a bottom desk drawer to slip her purse inside.

      Alone, behind the closed door, at last she allowed herself to think about her encounter with Zach.

      He seemed the same, yet somehow different. The moment she’d turned and looked into his eyes, she’d been blindsided by the emotions that roared through her.

      Why am I not over him? She closed her eyes, but the vivid image of Zach standing in the sunlit café was seared on the inside of her lids.

      He’d worn a straw cowboy hat tugged low over his brow, his black hair long enough in back to curl against the collar of a blue chambray work shirt. Clean faded Levi’s hugged the length of his long legs, a worn black leather belt threaded through the belt loops and black cowboy boots covered his feet.

      His eyes were dark gold, carbon copies of Rowdy’s. But while Rowdy’s were filled with innocence and mischief, Zach’s were unreadable beneath the arch of dark brows. He was deeply tanned, his skin a darker brown than her father’s and brothers’, who spent long hours outdoors and Jessie wondered if he’d been called home from some far-off desert country.

      She’d almost forgotten how big he was, or maybe she’d blocked the memory from her mind. She’d felt tiny looking up at him, even in the high-heeled shoes she wore. He was over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and chest, powerful arms and a narrow waist.

      And he still had that seductive scent that could only be described as male. Whatever the elusive scent was, she’d felt its impact in the café, even though she’d stood four feet away from him.

      Dear God. She raised trembling fingers to her lips. I can’t have feelings for him. I can’t.

      The intercom buzzed and she drew a deep breath, willing her voice not to quaver. “Yes, Tina?”

      “I’ve just received the trust fund data for the Michaelson Estate. Would you like me to bring you the file?”

      “Yes, please.” Jessie quickly smoothed her fingertips over her lashes and down her cheeks to erase any evidence of tears, and picked up a pen.

      By three that afternoon she closed the file atop her desk in frustration, unable to concentrate. Pleading a headache, she asked Tina to cancel her four-thirty appointment, left the office and went home to change out of her suit and heels and into cool green shorts. She pulled a white tank top over her head, slipped her feet into leather sandals, and collected Rowdy from next-door neighbor Mabel Harris’s loving care before escaping town to drive to her parents’ ranch.

      The one place on earth she could be assured she wouldn’t see Zach Kerrigan was on