"Well, I'm looking at eight bedrooms and a sun porch"
"And a money pit."
"Not if I do a lot of the work myself."
"What do you want with an eight-bedroom house?"
"A home," Addie replied, smiling so hard it was a wonder her face didn'tbreak apart. "My father left me a home."
"I just got an edgy feeling, that's all," John muttered, stepping out of hisold, blue pickup truck. He wiped his forehead and squinted against the sun."Like a storm's coming."
Callooked up at the sky. It was still as blue and cloudless as it had beenthis morning. "Maybe you drank too much coffee. You should cut back at yourage, you know."
"Thanks for the advice, Doc, but I'm tellin' you, I'm having one of thempremonitions, like trouble's coming and it's right around the corner."
"Maybe the lawyer's coming back to tell us the place is sold."Callooked athis watch. "I've been up most of the night with the calving, John. I'm goingto sit down for a while."
"You think you're going to have another long night?"
"Yeah. Wish we could hire more help right now." He yawned. He was tired,dirty and just about walking in his sleep. "There won't be any more days offuntil the calving's done."
"Don't worry about me," John said. "I'll keep it."
Calshook his head. "You've got enough to do with the horses. But I'll let youknow if I need help tonight."
Old John seemed content with that promise, soCalheaded toward his own smallhouse, a two-room bunkhouse that at one time had housed the summer crew. Nowit held a bedroom, living and kitchen area and a bathroom. Small, but all his.After growing up in group homes, where he owned nothing but a toothbrush and abagful of secondhand clothes,Calfigured this old building was just aboutperfect.
He was asleep when the storm struck. The next thing he heard, through the fogof a thick, dreamless sleep, was Old John yelling about something.
"She's here!" the old man hollered. "She's here!"
"Who?"Calcouldn't have opened his eyes if someone had offered him a one-wayticket to a beach on Maui He'd seen pictures ofHawaii, and often dreamed aboutit.Palm trees, he mused,and pineapples the size of- "Get up! You got to get up right now!"
"I don't care who's here,"Calmuttered. "I've been awake for twenty-five hoursstraight and I'm damn well going to-"
"Meet Ed's daughter," John finished for him. "She's here, and she's lookingover the place, and she wants to meet the help."
Calswore and tossed back the thin sheet.
"She's a pretty thing," the old man babbled. "Doesn't look anything like Ed,but she seems nice enough and real interested in the ranch, and she has twolittle boys, twins, cutest little tykes you've ever seen, look like they couldgive you a run for your money, all right, and-"
"John."
"Yeah?"
"Where is she?"Callooked around for his jeans and grabbed them off the backof a wooden chair.
"In the big house, looking around. You should have seen her face when she wastalking about that house, why, she couldn't believe it, I'll bet. And-"
"What about the husband?" He found a clean shirt and threw that on before he started on socks and boots. "What's he like?"
"Not here. She came with her mother."
"I'd like to meet the man I'm working for."
"Yeah, you and me both, son. But for right now it's the little lady and hermom, both of them lookers, all right, but the mother isn't real pleased withthe Triple J, if you know what I mean."
Caldidn't, but he wasn't about to ask John for an explanation that would keephim talking all the way to the main house. "Where are they from?"
"Austin."
His eyebrows rose, and he slammed his Stetson on his head and headed for thedoor. "Guess they weren't a real close family."
"Son, you don't know the half of it," the old man muttered. ButCaldidn't havetime to ask him what he meant, because there in front of the house stood theyellow-haired woman who haunted his dreams and turned them into nightmares.
"Hello, there," was all he could think to say. She looked good,morematernalthan he remembered. Her hair was still streaked with gold, but itcurled around her face now. He liked her better without all that makeup, too,but he missed the low-cut top. She had a figure that could make men weep, buttoday she wasn't looking for someone to dance with or buy her a drink. Eitherthis was his Valentine's Day woman or her twin sister. Behind her came anolder woman hauling two little boys.
"Hello." She stepped closer and stuck out herhand. "I'm Adelaide Larson." Shecleared her throat. "Ed Johanson's daughter."
He took the small hand in his and remembered how those fingers felt upon hisskin. "I'm Cal McDonald. Nice to finally meet you."
She withdrew her hand as quickly as was polite, but he saw the relief inthose sky-blue eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and she turned away to introduceher mother, a sharp-eyed fifty-something version of Adelaide Larson. A womanwho didn't miss much, he suspected.
"Mrs. Johanson," he said, noting that she didn't let go of the twins' hands.He'd bet those little boys were hell on wheels. He tipped his hat. "It's niceto meet you."
"Mr. McDonald."
"Call me Cal."
Adelaide Larson introduced her sons, who grinned up at him. One of them askedif he knew where the horses lived, and the other stared, wide-eyed, at John.
"I can show you the horses,"Calsaid. He looked up at the woman. "Your fatherbought a nice herd of mares about five minutes before he died."
"Were you there?"
"Neither one of us was," he told her. "It happened real fast."
"Oh."
At least she looked sad about it, he thought. John motioned to the twins."Come here, you rascals. I'll take you to the horses, but only if you hold myhands."
"We're not babies," one of them said.
"Ian," his mother warned. "Watch your manners."
"You don't have to hold my hand," the old horseman said. "Just my thumbs." Heshowed them his huge, gnarled hands, out of which stuck two massive thumbs.Awed, the little boys did as they were told. Even the grandmother lookedimpressed, though she moved closer in case the old man slipped up and let oneof those little guys loose.
"Mrs. Larson,"Calsaid, falling into step with the little blonde. She wasmarried, he realized, noting the wedding band on her left hand that hadn'tbeen there when they'd met nearly two months ago. "What are you and yourhusband planning to do with the ranch?"
"What?" She'd grown pale, and she looked at him as if he'd said something ina foreign language.
"The ranch," he repeated. "Will you keep it, sell it, run it yourselves?" Hedidn't make love to other men's wives. And he didn't think much of women who hid their wedding rings and went to bars with their girlfriends.
"I'm not sure." She walked faster, obviously anxious to keep up with herchildren. And avoid any private conversation with the man she'd sleptwith.Calhid his disappointment over that wedding ring. Here he'd hoped thathe'd meet her again someday-he'd gone to Billy's to look for her everySaturday night for four weeks after Valentine's Day. He'd spent way too manyhours wondering who she was and what he'd say if he ever saw her again.
He hadn't forgotten that lonely look in her eyes. It was still there, meaningher husband wasn't good enough for her. No woman that pretty should look sopainfully sad. But he'd forgotten for a moment that she'd just lost herfather. Maybe that's where the sadness came in. Maybe her husband brought herflowers and rubbed her back and told her she was beautiful.
He'd like to meet the sorry son of a bitch.
Luck had played a trick on her once again. Addie kept her eyes on her kids,attached to the old cowboy and heading toward a gray barn and a large corralseveral hundred yards away. The boys tried to step in mud puddles, but John,who wasn't interested in using last names, managed to avoid the mud. He seemedlike he knew his way around children.
Her mother kept an eye on all three of them, though she walked slower and looked around the place as if she couldn't believe it was real. And Addie,chin up and shoulders back, carried on as if she and the tall ranch hand hadnever met each other before this morning, though she could feel him watchingher.
She was, literally, a walking disaster. She had gotten married to a man sheloved, had healthy twin sons and then-whammo-her husband died. She goes outfor the first time in three years, ends up making love to a handsome cowboyand what happens? She gets pregnant, or at least she was about seventy-fivepercent sure she was. Inherits a ranch. Discovers the man she had a one-nightstand with and hoped never to see againworks on the property.
It wasn't fair. Wild Kate had affairs all the time and never looked back,never crossed that invisible line into disaster, never so much as had to buy apregnancy test kit and watch the stick turn color.
Cal McDonald looked as if he hadn't slept in days, and hadn't shaved, either.He had dark circles under his eyes and that scruffy appearance that soldunderwear in magazine ads, and yet he still looked good. And there was stillthat unsettling sizzle between them. Or maybe that was guilt, she wondered.But what was the odd, comforting feeling she recognized once again? And whywould she have the same reaction, without having had a rum and Coke sinceFebruary fourteenth?
"Mrs. Larson," he said again, as if he needed to remind her that she wasmarried. He thought she had cheated on her husband, of course.
"Call meAdelaide. Or Addie."
"Mrs. Larson," he repeated, walking next to her, just a little too close."I'm really sorry about your father."
"Thank you."
"I didn't know he had any family."
"In other words, where on earth was his daughter all this time?" She stopped,and he did, too. They stood there looking at each other for a long moment.
"No, ma'am," he drawled. "Your family relations are none of my business."
"I haven't seen my father since I was two," Addie explained, unwilling to letthis man think she was a bad daughter, as well as an unfaithful wife. "Hewalked out on my mother and me and we never heard from him again, not until alawyer tracked us down a few days ago."
"I'm sorry." She almost believed him. They started walking again. She heardthe boys chattering to the old man and knew they were soaking up a man'sattention.
"How long have you worked here?"
"A little more than twenty years."
"Are you the boss?"
"I run the cattle operation. John pretty much works with the horses. Yourfather was the boss."
"Is there anyone else here?" She stopped before reaching the corral, where the boys gazed at a beautiful, chestnut horse that had approached the fence.
"We hire some extra hands in the summer. But John and I are the only ones wholive here permanently. Your father wasn't much for spending money on thehelp."
"I gathered that. He didn't spend money, period. I take it you've been insidethe house?"
"Just in the kitchen. And only once in the rest of the place. Ed kept tohimself, and conversations about the operation were confined to the kitchen inthe big house, or John's place." He hesitated, and Addie waited. "You said youdidn't know what you were going to do with this place, but whatever it is,keep in mind that John's close to eighty. I'm not sure where he'd go if he hadto leave."
"No one is going to be forced to leave," Addie said, horrified to think thathe'd assume she'd toss an old man out of his home. "Unless he wants to."
Cal frowned and looked away, past the horse barn with the peeling whitepaint, past the corrals filled with beautiful horses, before turning back tolook down at her. "I don't sleep with other men's wives."
"Good for you." She gave him what she hoped was an innocent smile. He'd learnthe truth soon enough, but she didn't feel like discussing her personalhistory with a man who'd seen her naked in a cheap motel.
Chapter 4.
Calsat on his bed and pulled off his boots for the second time in oneafternoon. He was going to quit the Triple J. He'd give his two weeks' notice,pack up his truck and leave, just like that. He wasn't about to work for a manwhose wife he'd slept with. And he wasn't about to forget that night in themotel, either, even if he hadn't known she was married at the time.
And he wasn't about to stop wanting Addie Larson. Which was the biggestproblem of all. He stood, stripped off his clothes and headed for a hot showerand a few hours' sleep before another night spent in the calving shed began.
Damn. She was prettier than he'd remembered. Softer. Sweeter. He wouldn'thave pictured her a mother, but today he saw that she was a good one. Shewatched those two kids to make sure they didn't get into anything that couldhurt them, and she made them mind their manners, too. He'd heard more than one"Yes, please," and "No, thank you."
Neither one had mentioned their father, though.Calhad listened to theirchatter all the way from the horse barn to the calving pens and back to themain house. They'd stayed two hours and it felt like the Larsons had beenthere for two days. No one on the Triple J was used to company. Ed, hermitthat he was, hadn't encouraged visitors. John had no family that he ever spokeof, though he'd mentioned being married once. And there sure were no McDonaldscoming to say hello and staying for coffee.
OnceCalwas clean he opened a beer and, wearing boxers and a T-shirt,stretched out on his bed, his head supported by three pillows.
"Hey, Calvin!" John was the only person who used his full name.
"Yeah?"
"You asleep yet?"
"Take a wild guess!" he hollered, and then he heard the door open and the old
man shuffle inside. John stopped when he sawCalspread out on his cot.
"What's the matter with you?"