He lowered his head and watched as her eyes closed. He could deny himself no longer. The kiss that followed was intense and passionate. He hadn’t meant it to be—but he couldn’t help it, either. His mouth played on hers until he groaned.

  Thunder exploded, and for an instant Cal thought it was the beat of his own heart. Jane had that kind of effect on him. He broke off the kiss and, closing his eyes, leaned his head back against the sofa. Drawing in several deep breaths, he struggled to find his equilibrium.

  He couldn’t make himself stop wanting her. But it wasn’t right; he knew that. This relationship had no future.

  At last he straightened and took a sip of his wine. Jane did, too, and he noticed that her hand trembled slightly. His was shaking, too.

  He’d rarely been more unnerved. He thought of telling her about Jennifer, then changed his mind, afraid she’d read something more into the information than he intended. And yet he couldn’t say what his intentions were.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, diverting his attention from these dangerous thoughts.

  “No. How about you?”

  The wine had warmed him. The wine and her kisses. “I’m fine.”

  All of a sudden, they were shy with each other.

  Probably in an effort to distract herself, Jane started a conversation, mentioning people in town she was beginning to know. Cal eagerly joined in, answering her questions, bringing up other names. At least when they were talking, he wasn’t thinking about making love to her.

  The hell he wasn’t!

  “This has got to stop,” he said, and at her look of surprise, realized he’d spoken aloud.

  “What’s got to stop?” Jane asked.

  Embarrassed, he couldn’t think of a single response. “This,” he said, setting his wine glass aside. The next moment she was in his arms again. The kiss started in hunger and progressed to greed. Her response was immediate and she went soft and pliable in his arms.

  “Cal?” she whispered, gazing up at him.

  “Mmm?” He spread a row of moist kisses on her neck and jaw. She moaned softly and rolled her head to one side. His senses filled with the taste of her, the citrusy scent of her. He couldn’t make himself quit, couldn’t make himself want to quit.

  She moaned again when he let his tongue slide along the hollow of her throat.

  “You wanted something,” he reminded her.

  “Yes…”

  “What?” He worked his way back to her lips.

  He wasn’t sure how it happened, but soon her head rested on his lap and he was bent over her.

  “You’re right—we should stop,” she murmured with little conviction.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” he said and kissed her again.

  She looped her arms around his neck and raised her head from his lap. They strained against each other, trying to get closer, closer. His thoughts—all the reasons kissing Jane wasn’t a good idea—didn’t mean a thing.

  Jane’s mouth parted for him and his tongue curled around hers. The next thing he knew, his hand had worked open the front of her blouse and slipped inside to cup a satin-sheathed breast. Her skin was warm to the touch.

  This attraction was becoming increasingly dangerous. And harder to resist.

  “What should we do?” he asked, needing her to say or do something to stop this.

  “I…don’t know.”

  He kissed her again, slowly, thoroughly. “You’re a Valley Girl.”

  “No, I’m not! Anyway, you’re a rebel.”

  “You belong in California.”

  “You punch cattle for a living.”

  “There’s no future in this.”

  “None whatsoever.”

  Cal frowned. “Then why do I feel like this?”

  “When you know the answer, tell me.”

  To his dying day Cal wouldn’t know what it was about this stubborn beautiful woman that made him laugh the way he did. He threw back his head and howled.

  Jane apparently didn’t find it all that amusing. She sat upright, then shocked him by climbing over him and straddling his lap. His eyes grew wide with surprise. His amusement faded when she threw her arms around his neck and teased him with nibbling kisses that left him hungering for more.

  “You taking me to find that ghost town, Rebel?” she whispered.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  He muttered under his breath. “I’ll do it, but I won’t like it.”

  She grinned. “There’ll be compensations,” she promised.

  “I’m counting on that.”

  And then she really kissed him. By the time she finished, he would gladly have taken her anywhere she asked.

  FRANK FELT LIKE A SCHOOLBOY as he splashed after shave on his face and studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror. For the first time in eleven years he had a date with someone other than Dovie. He’d rather be with her, but they remained at an impasse and he was tired of fighting a losing battle.

  It’d taken him three days to compile a list of candidates and then pare it down to one woman. His decision made, he’d phoned Tammy Lee Kollenborn and invited her to dinner and a movie. It helped soothe his wounded ego when she eagerly accepted.

  Of all the eligible women in town, Tammy Lee was the most attractive. She was a fiftyish divorcée who wore a little too much makeup and was friends with Louise Powell; that was the downside. On the other hand, since Louise was the town gossip, word of his seeing Tammy Lee was sure to get back to Dovie.

  Tammy Lee had been divorced for twenty years or more, Frank knew, and that was a factor in her favor. She’d dated a number of men in town and revealed no sign of wanting to remarry. Another plus. From what he heard, she received hefty alimony payments. She routinely traveled and had spent one summer in Europe, returning to Promise with some mighty interesting souvenirs. Apparently she’d brought back a giant round mirror festooned with romping nymphs and satyrs. Rumor had it she’d fastened it to the ceiling above her bed. In time, Frank might have the opportunity to investigate that particular piece of gossip for himself.

  Frank didn’t know Tammy Lee well, but she was exactly the type of date he was looking for. Once Dovie heard about this, she was sure to have a change of heart. If she didn’t, well, that was that. He’d done everything within his power to get her to see reason. Short of marrying her, which he refused to do.

  He reached for his jacket and headed out the front door, grateful the rain had ceased. He was starting slow, easing into this relationship. Dinner, followed by a movie. They could chat over the meal, get comfortable with each other. A movie was a good way to end the evening, no pressure to carry on a conversation.

  Frank picked up Tammy Lee at her house. She opened the door and beamed him a broad smile. “I can’t tell you how pleased I was when you phoned,” she said, draping a fringed wrap over her shoulders. “The first person I called was Louise.”

  Louise Powell. Well, it was no less than he’d expected. Louise might be a blabbermouth, but this time, it was to his advantage.

  “You look terrific,” he said, thinking a compliment early in the evening would put them on a good footing. She wore a gold lamé jumpsuit with a jeweled belt that emphasized her trim waist and hips. He especially appreciated her high heels, found them sexy. Fewer and fewer women wore them these days.

  Tammy Lee stopped and checked her reflection in the hallway mirror, then smiled. “What a nice thing to say.”

  Frank waited for her to return the compliment, but she didn’t. He led her outside and opened the car door, wanting to impress her with his manners. Dovie had always enjoyed the little things he did to show her he cared.

  “I’m a modern woman,” Tammy Lee said after he’d climbed into the car and started the engine. “I can get my own door, but it’s real sweet of you to do that.”

  “You don’t want me to open your car door?”

  “It isn’t necessary, Frank.”

  He smiled a
nd decided he was pleased. This was a woman who spoke her mind, who asked for what she wanted. He respected that.

  They chose to eat at the Chili Pepper, and their appearance created something of a stir. Frank felt he should apologize for the attention they received.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, graciously dismissing his concern. “I know what it’s like when a longtime relationship ends. People are curious, wanting to know the details.”

  People like Louise Powell, Frank added silently.

  Frank ordered a steak and a baked potato with all the fixings. He’d lost a few pounds pining for Dovie, and was ready to make up for lost time.

  He was mildly disappointed when Tammy Lee asked for a plain green salad with red-wine vinegar.

  “I’m watching my weight,” she explained.

  Frank guessed that her trim figure demanded sacrifice. He ordered a cold beer to go with his meal, while Tammy Lee requested a highball, her first of three. He wondered about the calories in those, but didn’t ask. At four-fifty a drink, she could have ordered the steak. She surprised him further when she asked to see the dessert menu.

  “Every once in a while I allow myself a goodie,” she said.

  Frank never ate restaurant desserts. Dovie, when he could convince her to go out, refused to let him eat a pie baked in an aluminum-foil tin. She insisted she could outbake anything that came from a freezer. He’d never argued with her.

  Tammy Lee ordered apple pie à la mode.

  “Save room for popcorn,” he told her.

  She shook her head. “I don’t touch the stuff.”

  “Oh,” he said. That was his favorite part of going to the movies. Yes, the theater charged outrageous prices, but it was a rare treat and one of the few indulgences Dovie enjoyed, too. They bought the largest bag, with butter, and shared it.

  “I was sorry to hear about your breakup with Dovie,” Tammy Lee said, sounding anything but.

  “Yes, well, these things happen.” Frank wasn’t willing to discuss Dovie with another woman.

  “I’ve always liked her,” Tammy Lee said.

  That statement was patently insincere.

  “She’s a special lady,” Frank said, growing uncomfortable with this conversation.

  Tammy Lee frowned slightly. “I did understand you correctly, didn’t I? You and Dovie are no longer seeing each other?”

  Frank shifted in his seat. “Do you mind if we change the subject?” he asked pointedly.

  “Of course not. It’s just that, well, I know you and Dovie were…close, if you catch my drift.”

  Frank wasn’t sure he did. “How do you mean?”

  “Well…” Tammy Lee lowered her voice significantly. “I understand you spent the night with Dovie at least twice a week.”

  Frank opened his mouth to tell her it wasn’t any of her damn business how close he and Dovie were, but she stopped him.

  “The only reason I mention this, Frank, is that…” She paused and sent him a pained look. “This is rather embarrassing, and I do hope you’ll forgive me for being blunt, but I’m in a position to help you through these difficult times.”

  “Difficult times?” What was she talking about?

  “Physically,” she whispered, beaming him another one of her smiles. “I’m currently without a man in my life and I’d welcome your attentions, Sheriff Hennessey.”

  He didn’t think a woman had ever shocked him more. Frank shook his head in wonderment. Two years. It’d taken him two full years of courting Dovie before she’d allowed him into her bed. And even after all the time they’d been involved, she was uncomfortable making love without the sanction of marriage. Yet this woman was brazenly letting him know she’d welcome him to her bed on their first date. Sure, he’d admit to a mild fantasy about her supposed sensual bedroom—but checking it out on their first date? What in hell had happened to the world since he’d been out of circulation?

  “Well?” Tammy Lee asked.

  “Perhaps we should discuss this at a later time,” Frank said.

  “Have I shocked you, Frank?” she asked, then laughed coyly.

  “Shocked me? What makes you ask that?”

  “Your ears have gone all red.” She snickered as if she found this highly humorous.

  Tammy Lee’s words irritated him, but he at tempted to disguise his reaction. Frank was actually looking forward to the movie for the simple reason that they wouldn’t be speaking. She said the most outrageous things, and he was getting tired of it.

  The theater in Promise had only one screen. The seats were rather worn, but comfortable. The feature films weren’t always first-run, but since it was the only show in town, few complained.

  Frank purchased their tickets and was putting his change back into his wallet when Tammy Lee decided to get possessive. She rubbed his back affectionately and cozied up to his side, wrapping her hands around his upper arm. He shouldn’t be surprised, he supposed; her actions were certainly in keeping with her conversation.

  When he looked up, he saw the reason his date had started to cling to him like a black berry vine. Standing only a few feet away from him was Dovie Boyd, holding a small bag of popcorn and a paper cup of soda. Her eyes widened with a flash of shock and pain. He feared she was about to drop her drink and admired her for her fast recovery.

  Tammy Lee all but draped her arms around his neck, nuzzling his ear like some annoying insect he longed to bat away.

  Dovie offered them both a brave if shaky smile. “Hello, Frank. Hello, Tammy Lee,” she said. And then, with the grace of the lady she was, she turned and walked into the theater.

  CHAPTER 7

  JANE SAW CAL EVERY DAY AFTER their rainy afternoon. The riding lessons continued, but they found other reasons to be together, too. After their first date he no longer made an issue of their not becoming involved and she was glad. She particularly liked meeting him at the ranch, liked seeing him in his own world, which was new and strange and enchanting to her.

  It was Sunday, two weeks after the storm. For her riding lesson that afternoon, they rode to the farthest pasture with Digger, Cal’s dog, racing along beside them. The day was glorious, a perfect autumn day with temperatures still in the mid-seventies.

  Jane had become almost comfortable in the saddle. Either she’d built up calluses on that part of her anatomy, she thought wryly, or she’d gained skill. Probably a combination of both.

  Jane frequently mentioned Cal in her letters and phone calls home. She’d taken a great deal of ribbing from her father about this penchant she had for horse back riding. He told her he’d thought she’d outgrown it when she was thirteen. Like many girls, she’d been horse-crazy, reading horse stories and collecting figurines. In a way, what Cal had given her was the opportunity to live a long-ago dream.

  “You’re quiet this afternoon,” Cal remarked when they reached the crest of the hill.

  The view of the pasture below was breath taking. Cattle grazed there, scattered picturesquely about the fields. Cal had explained earlier that most of his herd had been sold off now, and he was wintering a relatively small number of bulls and heifers.

  “I’m thinking,” she said in response to his observation.

  “I hope it isn’t taxing you too much.”

  “The only thing that taxes me is you.”

  “Me?” He pre tended to be insulted.

  “You keep putting me off.”

  The laughter faded from his eyes. He knew exactly what she was talking about. She hated to be a pest, but she wasn’t going to let him delay much longer. The ghost town beckoned her; she’d actually started to dream about it. Her mother had mailed her a thick book about Texas ghost towns, but Bitter End wasn’t included. It amazed her that an entire town could be tucked away in these hills and so few people knew about it.

  “I spoke with Grady and Savannah this afternoon,” Cal told her.

  “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” she asked. It was what she’d been waiting to hear, as Cal knew
very well. Savannah had been to the town earlier in the year and apparently found the most incredible old roses blooming in the cemetery. Having visited the town fairly recently, Savannah would be able to give her and Cal directions and save them the trouble of a long search.

  When Cal didn’t answer, she pressed, “Aren’t you going to tell me what they said?”

  “In a little while.”

  Jane was beginning to understand Cal. He didn’t like being pressured and would eventually get to the point—but he preferred to do it without coaxing from her. Her patience was usually rewarded, and considering how good he’d been to her, how generous with his time, she could wait.

  “This truly is God’s country, isn’t it?” she said. Cal had helped her develop a love of the land. He didn’t preach or lecture about it. Instead, he allowed her to see and feel it for herself. He’d taught her to appreciate what it meant to be a real cowboy, too. Some people thought that cowboys were a dying breed, but for Cal, the work and the life were vital and worth while. There wasn’t a task on the Lonesome Coyote Ranch he couldn’t handle—branding cattle to breaking horses to birthing calves.

  “Do you mean that, about this being God’s country?” he asked.

  “Yes.” And she did. The land was astonishingly beautiful. What she’d come to love about it was what Cal referred to as “elbow room.” The hill country was gentle rolling hills and pasture land that was fresh, green, limitless.

  Cal had told her he could ride as far as the eye could see, to the horizon and beyond, and not meet another soul. This was something she was only beginning to fathom. So much space!

  “What about California?” he asked.

  “It’s beautiful, too, but not like this.”

  Cal shook his head. “Too populated. That stuff about earthquakes—it seems to me Mother Nature’s saying there’re just too many people living in one spot and she’s just trying to shake them loose.”

  He glanced her way as if expecting her to argue with him. She merely smiled and shrugged. She had no intention of ruining a perfect afternoon by getting involved in some pointless argument. Not when the wind was gently blowing in her face and the sweet smells of earth and grass rose up to meet her.