Contents

Author Note

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

About the Author

Author Note

The Cowboy Imports a Bride is Book 3 in the Cowboys of Chance Creek series, set in the fictional town of Chance Creek, Montana. To find out more about the Ethan, Autumn, Jamie, Claire and Cab, look for Book 1 and 2. Other books in the series are:

The Cowboy’s E-Mail Order Bride

The Cowboy Wins a Bride

The Cowgirl Ropes a Billionaire

Visit www.coraseton.com for more titles and release dates.

The Cowboy Imports a Bride

By Cora Seton

Copyright 2013 Cora Seton

Published by One Acre Press

ISBN-13: 9781927036440

CHAPTER ONE

"I'm going to make this short and sweet." Holt Matheson stalked into the dining room and hung his cowboy hat on the back of the nearest chair. He braced his hands against the walnut dining room table and looked from one to the other of his grown children, who sat two per side in varying degrees of boredom and irritation. All of them were dusty from the day's work. Usually Holt convened these meetings right after dinner. Today it was barely two in the afternoon – and they'd been summoned inside smack in the middle of their ranching chores.

"I have four sons ranging in age from 28 to 33. Four sons," he repeated, slapping his hand on the polished surface of the table. "And not one single daughter-in-law or grandchild in sight. What the hell is wrong with all of you?"

Rob Matheson, the youngest of the four, tilted his chair back on two legs and laced his hands behind his neck, exchanging a puzzled glance with his oldest brother, Jake. Normally Holt stuck to tried and true subjects: get up before the sun and don't stop working until it's dark; don't turn your back on an unbroken horse; just because you elect a government doesn't mean it isn't out to get you; and his perennial favorite – take your barn boots off before you enter the house.

Marriage was a new topic at the Matheson table.

"You saying you want us to go knock someone up?" Ned drawled. Rob coughed to cover his laugh. Second eldest, Ned always could get away with baiting their father. If he'd said that, he'd more than likely be flat on the floor by now. As the afternoon sun slanted through the windows, a fly droned somewhere out of sight. It was August, hotter than hell, and as usual his father refused to turn on the air-conditioning.

"I'm saying I'm starting to wonder if you all are batting for the wrong team," Holt said, straightening up. His rectangular belt buckle, emblazoned with a bald eagle, glinted in the sunlight.

"Holt," Lisa chided from the opposite end of the table. "Set a good example for the children."

Rob bit back another laugh. After thirty-four years of marriage to his father, his mother was still trying to civilize him. He rubbed a hand across his forehead and added his voice to the discussion. "What's wrong, Dad – you need some more cheap labor?"

Ned snorted. "More like free labor."

Luke, only a year older than Rob, grinned, flashing white teeth against his tanned skin. All four Matheson boys were blond and blue-eyed. They got their height and broad shoulders from their father, but their mother's Viking heritage won out as far as hair was concerned. When they were together, they attracted a lot of female attention. Rob didn't mind that one bit – as long as most of it was directed his way.

"Show some respect!" Holt boomed. "You get paid plenty." The room fell silent. It was true their father paid them – if you counted a roof over their heads, three meals a day and housekeeping service as payment. They each received a small spending allowance as well, but nothing to write home about. Holt kept them in line by keeping them cash-poor. "Now I've heard plenty about your exploits down at the Dancing Boot, and I've seen more than one pretty filly creeping out of here on a Sunday morning who didn't look like she was heading to church, so I'll assume that it's possible I'll one day have a grandchild, but I'm getting mighty impatient waiting for that day to come. By the time I was Rob's age I had four sons!"

Holt caught each of their gazes in turn and let his point sink home. "I can't force you to marry, but I can lay out a few enticements in your path. So here's how it's going to be. The first one of you who brings home a bride will get 200 acres near the river to do with exactly as you see fit."

Jake sat up straight, and Rob understood why: 200 acres was nothing to sneeze at. A man could do a lot with 200 acres. "No meddling?" he asked.

Holt's eyebrows lowered. "When do I ever meddle?"

"When do you not meddle, you old coot?" Lisa said. "You run our children's lives like they were still in diapers." Holt shot her a hard look but she didn't back down.

"No meddling," Holt confirmed after a long moment. "200 acres to the first one who gets a girl to the altar and marries her. Now get back to work."

He strode from the room. Lisa pushed her chair back from the table, stood up and followed him. Rob wondered if the rest of his brothers felt as blindsided as he did. 200 acres. All his own. What could he do with 200 acres if his father kept his nose out of it?

He wasn't sure. But he wanted like hell to find out.

* * * * *

"I won't be able to make it on Saturday after all."

Morgan Tate closed her eyes at her father's words. Clutching the cell phone to her ear, she checked to make sure her office door was shut. Barely bigger than a broom closet, it was still a mark of how far she'd risen at Cassidy Wineries. Assistant Manager of the distillery – a far cry from the grunt work she used to do when she joined the company ten years ago. In three days the company was unveiling the first vintage produced entirely under her supervision. She'd hoped her father would come to the tasting room for the celebration being hosted in its honor.

"Why not?" She tried to keep the anger out of her voice. When did he ever come to anything she invited him to? She shouldn't be surprised he'd back out now.

"It's Linda – she's pregnant." Pride rang out clearly in his voice. "Everyone's coming to celebrate!"

Linda. His other daughter. His real daughter. The one he'd had under the sanction of marriage – not the one he'd fathered during an illicit affair with a student. As always, Morgan felt the sting of shame of her birth. She was used to being kept in the shadows, though – the child no one had wanted. The daughter her father wished would disappear. He might never say as much, and he still did his duty by her when it suited him, but more than once he'd hinted that he wouldn't take it amiss if she moved to Toronto, or even to the United States – anywhere far from Victoria.

She forced herself to take a deep, steadying breath, twirling a strand of her thick, long dark hair around one finger. "Congratulations, Dad. I know you'll be a terrific grandfather."

Of course Linda would beat her to motherhood, too. Linda seemed to make it her life's work to be the perfect daughter – the daughter Edward Tate could be proud of. She'd beat Morgan in grades, looks, scholarships, jobs, marriage and now this. Not that they ever talked – of course not – but her father made sure to keep her up-to-the-minute on his true children's exploits. She was sure he didn't go trumpeting her successes to them.

"Yes, well." Edward cleared his throat, obviously impatient to end the call. He'd managed to weasel out of another occasion, so now he'd head back to his ivory tower to work on his precious research. Studying other cultures was far more interesting than learning about your own daughter. He spent more time with his graduate students than he ever spent with her.

"Okay. See you soon," she said.

The phone clicked before she even finished the sentence.

Damn, damn, damn. Why did she always do this? Seek approval from the one man determined never to give it to her? It'd been worse in the weeks since she'd learned her mother died. Aria Cruz had always been out of reach, too, living with her husband and children in Chance Creek, Montana, but at least Morgan knew that when she did come to Victoria to visit – one month out of every year – she'd focus her complete attention on her. Aria had loved her. Not enough to risk ruining her marriage to Alex Cruz, of course. She'd only been twenty the year she'd spent in Victoria, studying anthropology at UVic. Swept away by a much older, distinguished professor, she'd gotten pregnant that fall, had the baby in the spring, and left her infant with Edward's parents to raise when she returned in September to Montana and married Alex.

Morgan had always known the truth of her parentage. She'd always known she came last – after the legitimate children of her mother and father's marriages. She'd learned to be a realist – to depend only on herself. But she couldn't help hoping that one day – just once – she'd come first with her father.

With any man.

If she was smart, she thought as she tucked her cell phone back in her pocket, she'd turn her back on men all together. Stay single.

Join a nunnery, even.

But her biological clock was ticking with a vengeance these days. Now that she'd reached this milestone in her career, it suddenly became obvious how much the rest of her life was lagging behind. Maybe it was meeting her half-brother and sister in Montana for the first time last month when she went to find out why her mother missed her yearly visit.

Maybe it was her mother's death.

She stared out the window that overlooked the Cassidy vineyards. She'd half-known that something bad had happened before she arrived in Montana. Her mother had never let her down like that before. Then her worst fears were confirmed when Aria's daughter, Claire, told her their mother was dead. She hadn't been prepared for the grief that had come and gone in waves ever since. Aria was far from a perfect mother – but she was Morgan's mother, nonetheless. Now she was gone, and more than ever Morgan found herself alone in the world.

At least she'd come to know Claire and Ethan during that trip – the children Aria had never allowed her to meet during her lifetime. They'd known nothing about her, of course, or of her father, Edward. They'd been angry at first, but soon absolved her of their mother's sins and welcomed her to the family.

Her last few days in Montana had been some of the happiest she'd known – shot through with grief over Aria's death. Ethan and his wife, Autumn, and Claire and her intended, Jamie Lassiter, lived on the Cruz ranch and were working together to build a guest ranch business. She'd also met Cab Johnson, county sheriff, and Rose Bellingham and Tracey Richards, who helped Autumn out with the inside chores.

Most importantly, she'd met Rob Matheson, the handsomest cowboy in all Montana. The man who took her breath away. He'd grown up on the ranch next door to the Cruzes, and was fast friends with Ethan, Cab and Jamie.

She wanted to go back to Chance Creek. She wanted a life like Ethan and Autumn's – or Claire and Jamie's. She wanted a husband, children on the way. She wanted her own business, too – a winery she controlled from top to bottom.

Everyone else was getting exactly what they wanted.

Why couldn’t she?

* * * * *

"Rob, she's here – she'll be landing at the airport in a couple of minutes!" Claire Cruz called out of the window of her Honda Civic.

She'd driven the long lane up to the Matheson house so fast she'd raised a trail of dust that must be visible for miles, Rob thought, startled out of his nap in the shade of the verandah. Unlike his brothers who'd leapt up from their father's bizarre challenge raring to get to the next block of ranch chores, he'd decided to put his feet up for a while and think things through. The nap just kind of snuck up on him.

Now he sat up straight, as alert as an eagle looking for prey. "Who's here? What are you talking about?" Claire lived on the ranch next door and they'd grown up side-by-side like brother and sister. He'd never seen her this excited about anything. Her sleek, dark bob swung against her jaw as she leaned out the window and beckoned to him.

"Morgan! She just arrived. She came early to surprise everyone. Hop in, you can ride with me!"

Rob was off the porch in a flash. He hadn't seen Morgan Tate in weeks, not since she'd flown back to Canada.

"Why the hell didn't she call me?" he demanded as he climbed into Claire's teeny-tiny car, already wishing for the leg room of his Chevy truck. You'd think now that Claire was settling down with Jamie on the Cruz ranch she'd get herself a decent set of wheels.

"Like I said, it's supposed to be a surprise. I didn't know how to lure you out to the airport without telling you, though. Hurry up. She's waiting!"

Excitement and desire tightened Rob's gut. Morgan. Here in Chance Creek. More than two whole weeks early for Claire and Jamie's wedding.

"Last time I talked to her, she told me there was no way she could take any time off work. She said she could only come here for the weekend of the wedding," he said, gazing out the window as Claire made a tight u-turn and headed back out the lane. Luckily it was only fifteen minutes to the airport. Ten, the way Claire was driving.

"I think she was leading you on so she could surprise you better," Claire said. She seemed thrilled at the prospect of seeing her half-sister. Which made sense. After Claire got over her initial shock and anger at finding her mother had a daughter she'd never told anyone about, Claire had embraced her sister, only to have her leave again. He wondered if the happiness on her face was mirrored on his own.

"She's going to help me with all the last minute details about the wedding," she added.

"You don't get to hog her the whole time, though," Rob said, comfortably. Two years older than him, Claire used to boss him around as much as she did Ethan when they were kids. Once he got bigger than her, however, he'd had his revenge through multiple practical jokes over the years. He never got tired of giving her a hard time.

Still, he was happy for her and Jamie, and looked forward to their wedding, not the least because it meant that Morgan would be in town again.

Except she was already here.

Rob ran a hand through his hair and looked down at the jeans and t-shirt he wore. He'd worked all morning and he suddenly became aware how ripe he was. Hell, if he'd known Morgan was coming he'd have spiffed up a bit. Put on a fresh shirt at least.

"She won't mind your stink," Claire said.

"She won't notice my stink under your stink," Rob said, elbowing her. The car's path wobbled.

"Hey, watch it." Claire got the Civic back under control and soon they were pulling into the airport parking lot. The Chance Creek Regional Airport had been refurbished a few years back and it sported a modern glass and granite façade.

Inside, though, it still was the same pokey little terminal it had always been. She tugged him down the single long corridor to the point beyond which airport security blocked their way.

"That's her flight," Claire called out, pointing to a line of people spilling into the building from an airplane boarding ramp. "We made it just in time."

Rob realized he hadn't told anyone back at the ranch he was leaving. His father had asked him to sort out the equipment stored in the south stable this afternoon. Luckily it wasn't an important job. If Holt was in some kind of all-fired hurry, he would have to find someone else to do it. With three brothers, there was always someone to fill in for him.

He craned his neck as each passenger came through the entrance. Each time he was disappointed. Morgan must be sitting near the rear of the plane.

The number of passengers slowed to a trickle and then stopped.

"Where is she?" Rob demanded, turning on Claire. He caught her wide smile and his stomach sank.

Damn it.

"Got you! You should have seen your face when I said she was here," Claire crowed. "Ooooh, Rob's in love!"

"Stow it," Rob said, jamming his fists in his pockets and trying to restrain himself from picking Claire up, shoving her into a suitcase and sending her to Timbuktu.

"Come on – you play jokes on other people all the time. What's wrong? You can dish it out, but you can't take it?" Claire danced around him, enjoying her triumph all too much.

"If you don't shut your trap, I’m going to dish something out," Rob said, turning on his heel back the way they'd come. Claire's laughter followed him. She was right, though; he had put many people in the same spot he was now. He was sure some day this would seem funny to him, too.

But not now. He was aching for Morgan, and she was a thousand miles away.

He stopped in his tracks when Ethan, Autumn, Claire, Jamie, Cab – hell, even Ned, Jake and Luke – appeared before him, all laughing fit to burst.

What the hell?

"Got it all on camera!" Ethan hollered, holding up the cell phone Rob knew Claire had bought him a couple of months back. Someone must have finally showed Ethan how to use it.

"Very funny." Okay, he could see why Ethan would want to film his humiliation – he'd made a movie of Ethan's drunken rant about the qualities necessary for a ranch wife last spring, and posted it on the Internet as a wife-wanted ad. The movie had gone viral, and Autumn had been one of the women to answer the ad. She'd been all set to write a scathing article for the magazine she worked for about cowboys and their arrogance when she arrived in Montana. Instead, she and Ethan fell in love.

He'd expected gratitude. Not retaliation.

"Should we send it to Morgan? Show her how much you looooove her?" Jamie asked, knocking back his cowboy hat, the better see Rob. His dark hair was falling into his eyes as usual. A bit shorter than Rob and Ethan, Jamie's model-good looks still caught the eye of every woman who walked by.

Rob supposed he deserved that, too. After all, he had screwed up Jamie's proposal to Claire with a well-timed practical joke, as well.

"No – don't get her hopes up," Claire chimed in. "Morgan deserves a real man. One who isn't afraid of commitment."

"You mean a guy who can date a woman more than two weeks running?" Rose said, laughing like she knew all about it. Well, she did, didn't she?

Everyone did.

"Has he ever dated anyone for two weeks running?" Cab said. The sheriff had way too much time on his hands if he could show up at the airport for this. Usually the large man held his peace, but this time he seemed all too happy to throw his lot in with the rest of these jokers.

Everyone else laughed.

Ethan looked the sheriff up and down. "Hey, I've got an idea, Cab. Why don't you date Morgan? Get her to move to Montana for good. If Rob here keeps going after her, she'll end up running away to Alaska or something."

Rob stiffened. Cab? Dating Morgan? "Hey!"

They all ignored him. "Cab's perfect," Claire said, turning an appraising eye on the big man. "You'd be part of the family, then. You know, after the two of you got married."

Married? Cab and Morgan? Rob fought to keep his hands from clenching into fists.

Cab appeared to consider this. "She's awfully pretty," he agreed. "Got a good head on her shoulders, too."

"Lay off!" Rob couldn't keep his voice from rising.

"Why – you getting serious about her?" Cab goaded him.

"Serious? Rob?" Claire said. "That'll be the day."

Feeling like an unbroken horse caught in a corral, Rob glared at all of them. "I can be serious."

Everybody laughed like he'd uttered a terrific joke. Damn it, wasn't anyone going to back him up?

He saw Autumn lingering behind Ethan. Despite her months on the Cruz ranch, she still stood out from the rest. Her long, brown hair and elfin face always made her look a little other-worldly. He knew from experience she didn't like practical jokes – didn't like it when people got laughed at – and now he understood why. It sucked being on the receiving end, didn't it? Why had he ever become such a prankster?

Well, he knew exactly why, didn't he? To keep three older brothers off of his back. To keep everyone else from teasing him. He'd been different, once – too sensitive, too much of a dreamer – but that was a long time ago – a hell of a long time ago. No one messed with him now.

Not usually.

"I'm out of here," he said, and stalked off down the hall toward the exit. He realized he didn't even have his own truck to ride home in. Well, he'd be damned if he took a ride from one of his so-called friends. He hoped there'd be a cab out front when he reached the door.

There was, thank God, and he climbed in and told the driver to take him to the Dancing Boot before anyone else reached the pavement.

To hell with all of them. He could be serious. He could date a woman for more than two weeks.

He just hadn't tried it yet.

* * * * *

Morgan clicked through her text messages to find the one she'd received from the caterer that morning. Jillian Hodgeson was probably sick of her by now, but she was determined that the event scheduled for her vintage's debut would go off without a hitch. Check and recheck every detail – that was her motto when she ran these affairs. So far it had paid off. Taking on this extra role at the winery was one of the things which brought her to the owner's attention. Elliot Cassidy was a crusty old man whom she didn't particularly like, but respected because of his position. His son, Duncan, was another matter. He was an ass.

She paused when she spotted the text Claire had sent her earlier in the day. Asking her again what she knew about the way their mother had spent her money. Morgan pressed her lips together. She knew what Claire was after. Aria had blown through large amounts of the Cruz ranch's profits, and when she and Alex died in a car accident the preceding August, Ethan and Claire had been left with a business seriously in debt. Only by taking on Jamie as a partner and turning the spread into a guest ranch had Ethan been able to refinance it and buy out Claire's share. Claire was rich now, but she couldn't let the mystery go: how had Aria spent all that money? Claire seemed sure her mother had blown it on Morgan.

Morgan had already told her a hundred times that while Aria had taken her to restaurants and bought her clothes now and then when she came to visit, she had not underwritten her day-to-day upkeep – as a child or an adult.

It must be galling to her siblings that Aria had siphoned so much money from the ranch, but it hurt her that Claire still blamed her for the loss of the cash – even if her texts were worded carefully, with plenty of assurances that she was just curious.

The part where Claire asked for the dates of Aria's visits really bothered her. She was afraid the dates she gave her wouldn't add up. She had realized something in the weeks since she met her half-brother and sister. When Ethan and Claire talked about their mother's yearly absences, they always talked about months.

Aria never stayed in Victoria more than a month, however.

Morgan could imagine how Ethan and Claire had felt when they learned their mother's shopping sprees in Europe were really visits to a daughter in Canada they didn't know she had. They must have felt betrayed – stabbed in the heart. It was a miracle they accepted her at all, let alone made friends with her, but their friendship meant more to her than she could ever express.

What if there were more secrets to find out about Aria Cruz? What if those secrets tore her new, precious family apart? Claire seemed bent on doing that herself.

What had Aria done with the rest of her time away from home? Had she actually gone to Europe and done some shopping?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

It was the maybe not that left her cold. Morgan hugged her arms across her chest. Could she possibly have another half-brother or sister out there? Could one Montana girl leave a trail of children across a continent or two?

In her darkest moments, that's exactly what Morgan pictured. But no – that would require lengths of time away from home that Aria simply hadn't spent. Claire said her year away during college was the only time Aria had been gone from Montana for so many months.

So no other children. Probably.

Morgan dropped a hand to her own flat stomach. No children for her, either. Claire had mentioned she and Jamie were thinking of trying for a child as soon as they got married. With Autumn already pregnant, Claire said she wanted to be sure their kids were of similar ages.

"That makes it so much more fun, don't you think?" she'd commented the last time they talked on the phone.

Yes. She did think that would make it more fun. Too bad she was stuck a thousand miles away, with no husband in sight, let alone a child.

Maybe she should say yes the next time Duncan hinted around about marriage.

Shivering with disgust at the thought of marrying her boss's son, she pulled her thoughts back to Chance Creek, the Cruz ranch, and Rob Matheson. Now there was someone she'd like to have a baby with. Tall, broad-shouldered, muscled in all the right places, with hands that set her skin on fire…

She stifled a laugh. As if that would ever happen. Everyone she met in Chance Creek took her aside at one time or another to tell her Rob was bad news. A lady's man with no desire to ever settle down. She'd told them all she could handle him, and she had. They'd made out a lot, but done nothing else. Every time he tried to take things further, she stopped him cold.

No way she'd lose her heart to someone so entirely off limits.

Except she kind of already had.

She glanced back down at Claire's text again, and resolutely clicked past it. Caterer. Party. Vintage.

She had far too much work to do to think about anyone back in Chance Creek.

* * * * *

"Buy me a drink, cowboy?"

Rob slid his gaze over to the curvy brunette who'd taken the stool next to his at the long, wooden bar in the Dancing Boot. He squinted a little. Georgette Harris, from the next town over. Where'd she work? The feed store, that was it.

"I'm outta cash," he lied. Truth was, he had a little money left in his pocket, but only enough to keep himself drunk tonight.

"I'll buy my own drink, then. Hope you don't mind the company." She smiled at him and leaned closer, all the better to flash him some cleavage.

Pretty impressive cleavage.

"Free country," he mumbled. He'd already consumed a hefty amount of alcohol, but the sting of the afternoon's confrontation at the airport was still sharp. Some friends. Not one of them had defended him. No respect at all.

She laid a hand on his arm. "I've got the night off."

He frowned, trying to work that one out. The feed store wasn't open past six. "Night off from what?"

"From my boyfriend, silly. From Jessie – you know Jessie Henry."

Sure. Maybe. But he couldn't bring the man's face to mind.

She leaned even closer, her breast brushing his arm as she whispered into his ear, "Thought I'd have a little fun while he's out of town. You know what I mean?" She dropped a hand to his thigh.

Yeah. He knew exactly what she meant. Rob straightened a little and eyed her speculatively. "Why pick me?" he asked, surprising himself. Why even bother asking? Why not take the gift he'd been handed and show the lady a heck of a good time like he usually would?

"You won't be no problem tomorrow," Georgette said cheerfully. "Nor tonight. Some guys get squeamish about fooling around with another man's girl. Not you. And I know I won't get any phone calls next week wondering where I am. You'll be too busy chasing after some other guy's woman."

Wow. That was harsh. Suddenly he felt all too sober.

"Guys like you are handy," she said, as if sharing a confidence. "A girl can yank your chain, have her way with you, and kick you back into the closet when she's done. You're like a pair of high heels. Great now and then when you want a party, but useless for the day-to-day."

Rob blinked.

She must have caught his expression, because she rushed to add, "But pretty. You're real pretty, ain't you, Rob?"

"Fuck off." He stood up, slapped some cash on the bar and stalked toward the door, weaving a little before he got his bearings. Guess he was a little drunk after all.

Cab cut him off before he made it halfway across the room. He hadn't even seen the man enter the Boot.

"Tell me you're not driving," Cab said.

Rob pushed past him, into the still-warm Montana evening. Cab followed him outdoors. Aside from the music spilling out of the Boot with them, Chance Creek was already quiet. Most folks were tucked in for the night. Past nine o'clock this town shut down.

"Can't let you do that, buddy. Give me the keys."

Hell.

With a sigh, Rob handed them over, but instead of heading toward his Chevy, he struck out on foot.

"Where you going?" Cab called after him.

"Nowhere."

Nowhere at all.

CHAPTER TWO

Morgan hopped on one foot as she threaded a leg into the tailored pants she planned to wear to work this morning. She tried to keep her cell phone between her shoulder and her cheek, but the thing was too darn small to balance there.

"So first Mom spends twenty-four years telling me never to have children, and now she tells me I better get pregnant again right after this one's born," Autumn said in her ear. They talked most days – Autumn filling her in on all of the ranch gossip and venting her frustrations about guests and family. It was barely getting light out, but Morgan knew ranch life started early. Ethan would already be out doing his chores, and Autumn would be prepping breakfast for her guests. Often she and Autumn squeezed in a call before the day got busy.

"Why is she rushing you?" Morgan asked. "You've got tons of time." As usual when she talked to Autumn she felt a jealousy she tried to squash. Autumn had all the things she wanted – a business of her own, a husband she adored.

And a baby on the way.

Morgan couldn't believe she was still single at this age. Maybe getting married earlier and having a family would have screwed with her career. Fine – she didn't need to rewrite the past. It was the future that scared her. What did all her successes mean if there was no one to share them with?

"You're forgetting who Mom's patients are; women who can't conceive on their own. When you spend all day telling forty-something-year-old women that they're not fertile anymore and are going to have to spend thousands of dollars on invasive procedures, you tend to get a skewed view of things."

"Don't you mean fifty-something-year-old women?" Morgan asked, trying to shrug into her blouse.

"No, I mean forty-something. Even thirty-something. Don't tell me you're one of those women who thinks they have all the time in the world to start a family. There's no guarantee it'll work, no matter what your age. Even women in their twenties can have trouble conceiving. If you want kids, you need to get a move on."

Suddenly Autumn had her full attention. Morgan stood stock still, the blouse still gaping open. "What?"

"Oh, I…shoot." Morgan could picture her in the Cruz ranch Big House kitchen, whipping up breakfast. She'd be standing by the counter that separated it from the huge living room with its floor-to-ceiling windows and their incredible view of the Montana landscape. "I’m sorry, that came out all wrong. You know what my mom's like; I think I was channeling her for a minute there. Forget everything I just said. You do have plenty of time."

But Autumn's tone told her she didn't entirely believe that. "You really think I might not be able to have kids?"

"No! I don't mean that at all. Boy, I really stuck my foot in my mouth, didn't I?" Autumn paused. "Here's what Mom would say. Even if you got married next month and got pregnant right away, you wouldn't give birth until you were 33. Let's say two years later you try again. You're 36 or 37 when your second child is born. Now you're looking at forty around the corner. Two kids is plenty for most people, but no one tells women that if they want a big family, they need to start early. And let's face it – you're not getting married next month, are you?"

"N…no." Feeling like she'd been sucker punched, Morgan hastened to do up her buttons with fingers that suddenly didn't work right. Sure she was looking forward to getting married, but she had felt like she still had plenty of time to start her family. Lots of time to have two, three, even four children. She'd always wanted a houseful, and now she was too old?

"But…what if I don't get married for a couple of years?" she said.

"Then you might need the help of someone like my mom." Autumn's voice changed. "But no one's saying you even have to have kids. You have a great career, right? Oh, darn – I gotta go. Ethan just came in."

She clicked off, leaving Morgan speechless. Yes, she had a fantastic career. Sort of.

Okay, actually it sucked. Elliot Cassidy was a tyrant and Duncan was all hands and innuendos. She'd been desperate to leave for months, but was afraid if she did so, she'd have to leave Victoria, as well. The wine industry on the island was small and tight-knit. If the Cassidys heard she was looking for work elsewhere, she had no doubt they'd do their best to undermine her job search.

Besides, she wanted more than a job. She wanted to own her own winery someday, and she wanted to create vintages that would bear her name, not the Cassidys'.

She wanted a family, too. A big one.

She was sick to death of being alone.

* * * * *

Rob pulled his hat off as he paced wearily down the center aisle of the Chance Creek Lutheran Church. He slid into a pew about halfway down and leaned back against the wooden seat, thankful to take a load off.

He didn't know how long he'd walked during the night, striding along the highway as if he meant to leave Chance Creek behind him for good. When he sobered up and realized it was himself he was trying to leave behind, not the town or the people in it, he turned around and walked back again.

His feet were sore, he stank of alcohol and sweat, and he was sure if Georgette saw him now she'd run the other way screaming, but he wasn't ready to head home yet. Not until he'd thought a few more things through. This seemed as good a place as any to do that, with its wooden floors and clean, spare lines.

He scraped the back of his hand against the stubble on his chin. He was a mess, all right. Through and through. His life today bore no resemblance to the one he'd expected to lead. Sure, he was a rancher, after a fashion. Although he acted more like his father's hired hand. But somehow he thought his life would add up to more. He'd thought he'd be respected, like his father was. That he'd be in charge…of something. That he'd have more to show for the work he did.

Instead, he was a joke.

No one took him seriously. They certainly didn't look up to him. He couldn't blame them, either. He spent his time goofing off, drinking, sleeping around, and playing jokes on everyone who came near.

"Been a while, Rob."

Startled, Rob glanced up to see Reverend Joe Halpern standing at the end of the pew.

"Sure has." He ducked his head, embarrassed to be caught here.

"Don't mind me," Joe said, as if reading his thoughts. He was a husky man in his late 60's. Out of his Sunday garb he looked like any other rancher in these parts. His jeans strained below a somewhat protruding belly. A green button-down shirt was tucked in neatly at his waist. "I'll go about my business unless you'd like some company."

Suddenly Rob found it difficult to speak. He could use a little company right now. Anything to stop the dark thoughts that chattered in his mind.

Joe nodded as if he understood. "I remember when you used to come to church like clockwork – all you Matheson boys did back then. I had the feeling you didn't mind it as much as the others, though, even though your parents had to herd the lot of you between them like so many cattle. You were only a pipsqueak and I had a full head of hair back in those days."

Rob nodded. He remembered those days, too. The reverend was right; he hadn't minded church that much when he was young. For one hour a week his brothers couldn't hassle him and no one said a word if he kept his mouth shut and daydreamed. As Halpern's voice droned on above him, he'd think about the stones he'd found in the creek that morning, how they'd got there and why there were different colors, or about the grouse he'd snuck up on, or why sometimes clouds were fat and puffy and sometimes thin as pulled cotton.

He was happiest when he was alone, and quiet – watching something. Learning about it.

But no one ever left him alone. Not for long, anyhow.

"Mind if I take a seat?" Joe prompted.

"Make yourself at home," Rob said and it occurred to him it was a particularly stupid thing to say to a man of God in his own church. Still, he slid over and made room.

"Just say the word and I'll leave you to your thoughts," Joe said. "But in my experience, when a man shows up in church at this time of the morning, dressed in the same clothes he went out in last night, he might be looking to make some changes in his life."

"Yeah," Rob said. "You got that right."

"Tell me about it." Joe settled back, his gaze fixed on the pulpit at the front of the sanctuary. Like being in confession, Rob thought, as he sat back, too. His own gaze forward. If they had some walls around them they might be Catholics. Maybe the Catholics had the right idea.

"Not much to tell," he started. "Just…this isn't who I want to be."

"Who do you want to be?"

"I don't know. A good man. Useful." That brought Georgette to mind again. Her clinging grasp and the way she'd dismissed his worth with a single word. Useless. Useless but pretty.

Son of a bitch. He glanced toward the ceiling. Sorry.

Joe nodded. "Do you have a calling?"

A calling? "Like being a preacher?" That was the last thing he'd ever be. He tried to picture himself in that pulpit, preaching a moral lesson to the congregation. The idea was laughable.

But it sparked another memory. An idea he'd had as a small boy, right in this church one Sunday morning. He'd been feeling particularly aggrieved at the way Ned and Luke liked to rush up whenever they spotted him and scare away the bird he'd been stalking, or stomp to bits the nest he'd found, or splash in the water of Chance Creek until every fish for a mile went into hiding.

With the ignorance of youth, he'd thought that if only he could stand in Halpern's pulpit, he could take on the minister's authority and turn of phrase. He could tell everyone in the congregation about all the wondrous things he saw on the Matheson ranch – the tiny bugs and the towering trees; the ceaseless life that teemed and thronged in the grasses; the ever-shifting shades of light that filtered through pine branches in the hills; the sound of the water that ran in the creek – and by telling them about it, he could teach them to know God. No one ever interrupted the reverend when he was preaching. Maybe if Rob was able to preach in his own way, people would listen to him. And if the congregation listened to him, then his family would have to listen to him, as well. And then maybe his father would stop rushing around and barking orders all the time, and his brothers would stop bickering and pushing him around and…

Beating on him.

Joe held his silence beside him and Rob was thankful for that.

No amount of talking about the natural wonders surrounding their home had stopped Ned from kicking his ass. Boys were boys, and four boys were too many for one ranch. He'd soon learned to cultivate his fists, his careless attitude and a wicked way of playing jokes that made his enemies the laughing stocks of all their friends. Ned backed off…in time.

"I'm not sure," he said finally, the memories making him raw. Coming here was a mistake. There weren't any answers for him in church.

"I think the trick is to think about who you were before the world got to you," Joe said.

Rob looked at him in surprise. A bit too close to his own train of thought.

Joe grimaced. "I see more of what goes on from that pulpit than people think," he said. "It looks like I'm the one on display – front and center for everyone to stare at when I preach. What people don't realize is from up there I can look just as hard at each and every one of them."

Huh. That put Sunday mornings in a whole new light.

"I see who's here and who's not." He elbowed Rob good-naturedly. "I see who sits next to whom. Who chooses a pew down front and who hides in the back. Who's playing hangman with his brother instead of listening to my sermon. Who's got a black eye and who's wiping away tears. The Mathesons are good people, solid citizens. Your father's done his best with his ranch and with the four of you. But every family's got its strengths and weaknesses, Rob. Your dad is loyal, strong, dependable. He's got no head for learning, though, and that's a shame. I always thought you'd head out to the University."

Rob shrugged. "What's the point? Ranching doesn't require a degree." A new soreness pained his heart. He could have won any of those scholarships they handed out in his high school. Could've been the valedictorian, probably. But Mathesons didn't get straight A's. He'd learned that soon enough.

"So you want to be a rancher?"

"What else is there?"

This time Joe did turn his head. "Everything. There's a whole world out there."

A whole world. If that was true, why did he feel so hemmed in? His entire life took place on one ranch, in the confines of his family, trussed up in their opinions of right and wrong. Suddenly he longed to be out on the highway again, striding away. "I've got no idea what I'd be if I wasn't a rancher."

Joe stood up. "You, of all the people in this congregation, can be whatever you want to be. My own father used to say that children are the only ones who show their true colors." He shrugged. "Try being the man you wanted to be when you were five. You might find it suits you best. I'll leave you to your thoughts. The Man Upstairs might have a few things he'd like to add to my lecture."

The preacher made his way forward, past the pulpit and into the small room behind it. Probably getting things set for Sunday, Rob thought as he shifted on the hard seat.

The man he wanted to be at five?

Who was that?

* * * * *

"Are you bringing a guest on Saturday?" Duncan's grating voice cut through Morgan's thoughts. She was in the distillery room, checking the huge vats of aging wine, her first job every morning when she came to work.

"Yes." No. She hadn't found a date yet.

"I'm taking Anne Goodman." He pretended to read the gauges on the nearest vat, but she caught him slide a look her way. Anne was considered a fine catch. Rich and beautiful.

"That's nice." She moved away, but not before she saw a triumphant smile cross Duncan's face. He must have guessed she didn't have a date. Since she'd rebuffed his advances several times, he'd taken every opportunity to show her what a mistake she'd made.

He'd also taken every opportunity to block her at work, interfering with every task, bossing her around, and generally being a pain in her ass. She knew what he was trying to say – if she wanted to get any further ahead at Cassidy's, she'd better sleep with him.

No way. She wasn't going to sleep with anyone again until she was married. She'd be damned if she repeated her mother's mistakes. She'd had a close call once a few years back that opened her eyes to how easy it would be to find herself pregnant and unmarried – like her mother had been with her. She would never subject a child to the life she'd led while she was growing up, not even if it meant staying celibate for years. Sure, this was the twenty-first century, and most of the stigma about being born to an unwed mother was gone, but when that mother went on and had a new family and left you behind – you didn't need stigma to feel as worthy as a piece of yesterday's trash.

"I would rather have gone with you," he said, sidling up to her and touching her arm. "You know I'd like to spend a lot more time with you."

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said. She couldn't believe they were going to do this again. When would Duncan understand she wasn't going to fall for him, no matter what?

"We'd make a great pair, you and I," he went on, sliding his arm around her waist, oblivious to her disgust. "We could get married, run this winery together some day."

Ugh.

There'd been a time when she would have considered going out with him, before she knew his true nature. When she'd started, all she'd seen was a young man who shared her passion for viticulture. On the outside, Duncan looked like a catch, with his flashy smile and slick good looks. On the inside he was all vinegar and no wine. Duncan Cassidy would expect to control his wife's every move the way he controlled the personnel who worked for the winery. He'd expect her to bow to his every whim.

"Come on, Morgan. What's holding you back? We could have a lot of fun." His hand slipped down to her ass and he gave a hard squeeze.

Morgan yelped and pushed him away. He folded his hands across his chest, blocking her path, and eyed her with all the confidence of a rich man who thinks he's holding all the cards.

Well, he was, wasn't he? What could she do, report him to Human Resources? This was a family business and Duncan was family. That meant he could do pretty much anything he damn well pleased.

"I don't think so." She wheeled around, wanting nothing more than to be away from him.

"Dinner tonight," he called at her retreating back.

"Nope!"

"I'm not asking you – I'm telling you. Dad wants to take you out and celebrate. At the Rotunda." He named a brand new restaurant that was getting great reviews. Morgan's shoulders slumped. She couldn't turn down Elliot Cassidy, even if Duncan was a lecherous twit.

"What time?" she said finally.

"Eight o'clock. We'll pick you up."

"No – I'll take my own…" but when she turned around, Duncan was gone.

Damn it, a night with Elliot and Duncan after working with them all day? This was a nightmare.

Nope. Not a nightmare.

Just her life.

* * * * *

When Rob trudged the long dirt track up to the ranch house he felt like he'd been gone for a year rather than a night. Every muscle in his body ached and he couldn't wait for a long shower.

"Where've you been?" His mother knelt in her garden beside the house he'd grown up in, a wide, two-story, clapboard affair with a verandah encircling it. "On second thought, don't tell me. I doubt I want to know."

What would she say if he told her he'd been in church? Probably that it was about time. He watched her pop a cauliflower seedling out of a flat and place it in the hole she'd dug in the rich soil of a garden bed.

Without conscious thought, he paced over to join her and knelt down, too. She handed him a trowel and he prepared the next hole while she eased another plant out of its container. "Needed to do some thinking," he said.

"Some drinking, too, by the smell of it." Lisa wrinkled her nose, but patted him on the arm to let him know she was teasing.

"Thinking it's maybe time for a change," he said.

"You have something in mind?"

He dug another hole as she set the seedling into the first one and filled dirt in around its sides.

"Not really. But I can't keep on the way I've been."

A wistful smile played on her lips as she worked beside him. "We haven't done this in years. Do you remember when you used to help me in the garden?"

Sure he did. Back in grade school, his mother used to require him to help weed her vegetable garden at least once a week. The most hated chore on the ranch – at least among the menfolk – it was always passed off onto the youngest child who could competently complete the task.

In other words, Rob.

He hadn't hated the chore, though. He'd liked the feel of dirt between his fingers, and the way the vegetable plants looked bigger and happier as soon as he cleared the weeds away. His mother would chatter to him about the different plants, including the flowers that bordered her square garden. She didn't require him to answer back much, so he'd let his attention wander, half-listening to her, half-daydreaming in the warm sun, his mind slipping away to the hows and whys of seeds, dirt, water, and bees.

Ned walked past on the way to the main house, probably raiding the fridge between chores. He did a double-take when he spotted Rob beside his mother.

Here it comes, thought Rob.

"Just like old times," Ned called out. "The flower-sissy's back!" He laughed as he continued on and clattered up the steps to the house. Beside him, his mother tsked.

But in his mind Rob was seven again, on a spring-morning recess at the small public school in Chance Creek. A crisp wind blew down from the hills. The ground was damp beneath his feet from the receding snow. His classmate, Daniel Warden, waved at a green point breaking through the dirt.

"Look – it's a tulip."

"No, it's not, it's a crocus," Rob had corrected him without thinking.

Daniel, a hot-tempered boy who couldn't bear to be wrong, had shoved him, hard. "Who cares what it's called, you flower-sissy!"

Of course the name stuck.

His own brothers thought it was hilarious and taunted him about it for days, rubbing crocuses into his face when their parents were out of sight, pushing him into his mother's newly dug flowerbeds when they ran to the house for mealtimes. The next time his mother called him to work in the garden, Rob had hid in the hayloft and refused to come out. He'd taken a paddling for it when he came in for supper, and then hid the following day, as well. When Lisa finally tracked him down and got the truth out of him, she'd sighed, and sent him on his way.

She'd never asked him to weed the garden again.

And Rob devised a suitable revenge on Daniel. His first practical joke. He slipped out of bed early one morning, picked a handful of tulips and hid them in his backpack until he reached school. There he slipped inside before the first bell rang, snuck into his classroom and left them on his teacher's desk – along with a note:

To Mrs. Ramsey, from Daniel Warden.

When the bell rang and he filed back into the classroom with the rest of the students, Mrs. Ramsey was holding the tulips, a smile on her face. "Look at what Daniel brought me," she said, lifting them high.

"You teacher-loving, flower-sissy," Rob drawled, as loudly as he could.

That particular whipping was worth it. And that practical joke was the start of a life-long run of tormenting first his enemies, and then his friends. He learned fast that a good shock or scare kept everyone at arm's length.

"I've forgiven folks for plenty of things in my life," Lisa said, breaking into his thoughts. She sat back on her heels and gazed at him from under her cream-colored cowboy hat. "But the way your father and brothers destroyed your love for the garden, for everything natural," she waved a hand to encompass the whole ranch, "is something I've found it hard to forgive. I've found it hard to forgive myself for letting it happen."

He looked down at his hands in the dirt. Remembered the peace of working in the garden. Remembered his early days exploring the ranch and all its wonders.

The man he wanted to be when he was five.

"They might have stopped me back then, but they can't stop me now," he said. He wasn't the smallest kid on a playground full of bullies anymore. And while he couldn't name his calling, he knew it wasn't being low man on the totem pole on a ranch that already had four other men to run it.

He leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek. "Don't give up on me yet."

She tousled his hair. "Never."

* * * * *

At eight o'clock, Elliot Cassidy's black Lincoln Town Car pulled up in front of her apartment and Morgan let herself into the back seat. She'd been on these dinner dates with the Cassidys before and she knew what to expect. Elliot would be in the driver's seat. Duncan riding shotgun. She'd take her lowly place in back and play second fiddle to them for the rest of the night.

At the restaurant, Elliot would send back the first wine, demanding something better, while Duncan would dictate to her what she should order. The remainder of the meal would be spent listening to them pick apart the service, the food, other wineries, and their own employees. By the time she returned home she'd have a migraine and a strong desire to slit her throat.

As she slid onto the seat and fastened her seatbelt, the car pulled away from the curb.

"Only the two of us tonight," Duncan said, and she looked up with a start, her heart beginning to pound when she took in the empty passenger seat.

"Where's your father?"

"He thought we young folks might like an evening to ourselves." Duncan smiled into the rear view mirror, a self-satisfied smirk she longed to slap right off his face.

"Forget it. Take me home."

"I don't think so." Duncan pushed down on the gas pedal and the car leaped forward. Glancing out the window, Morgan saw they weren't headed downtown.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." He sped up again. He was driving way too fast for this neighborhood. Had he been drinking?

Probably.

"Duncan, I'm serious. Take me home."

"Relax, Tate. You're always so uptight. Maybe if you were getting some you wouldn't be such a bitch."

Getting some? She hoped he didn't think he'd be getting some tonight.

She stealthily unlocked the door and gripped the handle. She couldn’t jump out of a moving vehicle but sooner or later he'd have to slow down. No way was she going to let him whisk her out of the city to some private place where she would be at his mercy. She knew all too well that men would use their strength against her, given half a chance.

Against her will, a memory of the night she and Claire had gone after Daniel Ledstrom flashed into her mind. Daniel – Claire's ex – had taken thousands of dollars of interior design supplies from her home and stashed them in the garage of his mother's vacant house. Claire thought she knew where he'd put them, and when they'd gone to check it out, they'd been cornered by Daniel and two of his thug friends. Morgan closed her eyes against the memories of the man who'd tossed her over his shoulder, hauled her into the house and dumped her on a bed. When he'd climbed on top of her, she'd thought she'd never get away. He'd torn her blouse open – touched her…

When she finally felt the car decelerate, she took her chance. Before Duncan had even pulled to a stop at the light, she clawed her seatbelt off, flung the door open, and leaped out. Her head down, she raced onto the sidewalk and down the street. It was quiet here – an industrial area. She had to hide before Duncan circled around the block.

Fishing her phone out of her purse, Morgan dialed information and asked to be put through to a cab company. She didn't stop moving and she didn't dial 911. Getting the police involved wouldn't solve anything since Duncan hadn't actually done anything yet. Plus it would get her fired, and without a recommendation from the only employer she'd had for a decade, she'd be toast. She'd have to figure out what to do about that tomorrow; right now, she needed to get home. Darting down an alley, she turned a corner and checked the street-signs.

"Hello," she said when her call was put through. Fighting for breath, she kept running. "I need a cab. Fast."

A screech of tires warned her Duncan was trolling the streets. She ducked down another alley and hid behind a dumpster. Duncan might drive up and down the area for a while, but he'd never get out and search on foot. He was too lazy.

Besides, he'd know right where to find her tomorrow. Time to update that résumé.

Half an hour later, a taxi dropped her off in front of her building and she climbed out, nearly weak with relief. Duncan hadn't found her before the cab arrived. She was out forty dollars, and she dreaded what the morning would bring, but she was home.

Safe.

But as she walked into the covered garage under her three story complex, toward the entrance to her unit, she stifled a gasp when she saw a man loitering by her door. She stopped, ready to run, until she recognized him.

Rob.

Shocked, she lifted a hand to her hair. She was sweaty and disheveled from her dash through the streets of Victoria. Her pants were wrinkled and her blouse awry. What a time for the cowboy to show up on her doorstep.

Slowly, she approached him. "Rob? What are you doing here?"

He unfolded himself from where he'd been leaning against the wall. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought I'd stop by."

She raised an eyebrow. She was still trembling from her close call. Only twenty minutes ago she'd needed all her defenses against Duncan. Now the man she'd longed for was closing in on her, fast. She needed a moment to transition.

She didn't get one.

"I couldn't stay away from you any longer," he said, bending down to give her a kiss that made her toes curl with desire, once she pushed Duncan from her mind. She forced herself to stay in the moment, to be conscious of only Rob. His smell, the taste of his mouth on hers, the strength in the arms that held her. She closed her eyes and leaned against him, letting everything else go. Rob Matheson was easy on the eyes, with a body made for touching. After a few moments, it was all she could do not to melt against him right here and now.

Easy, tiger. Remember your rules. Better not get him – or yourself – too hot and bothered.

She pulled away. "Come on in."

"Thanks." He finally released her and picked up a black suitcase. "Hope you don't mind me showing up like this out of the blue. I had a sudden gap in my schedule."

"Really?" She didn't think ranchers got gaps in their schedules. "Is everything all right back at home?" She unlocked the door and showed him inside her small apartment. Lugging his gear, Rob followed her into the entryway and down a short hall to the living room. Her kitchenette hugged one wall, separated from the rest of the room by a counter. Her one bedroom and bathroom opened off to the side.

"I like your place. It's…nice," Rob said, putting down his suitcase. He seemed out of place in the confines of her little apartment. The cowboy was larger than life, and her living room was oh so small.

"You mean it's tiny," Morgan said, trying to wrap her head around his presence here. Somehow Rob demanded wide skies and open land. He didn't belong in a city like Victoria. "It's cheap, too. Only a thousand dollars a month."

"A thousand dollars for this?" His eyebrows shot up.

"It's expensive here."

"The money's funny, too. What's the deal with all the colors, eh?"

She had to laugh at the mixture of the Canadianism with his western drawl. Her shock at Duncan's behavior and her wild flight through the streets began to melt away. Rob was here. She was definitely safe from Duncan now. "Easier to tell apart than your U.S. money."

He sobered up. "Look, I know it's not good manners to drop in unannounced like this, but I needed to see you and…well, I needed to get away from home for a bit."

"Well, it's great to see you, too. Just a little…unexpected." Especially after the hellacious evening she'd had.

"There's something I need to ask you. Something important." He took her hand and led her over to her china-blue couch. There he hesitated, his gaze raking her from head to toe. Whatever he saw made his expression soften and he tilted her chin up and met her mouth with his own again. His kiss started out gentle, but then it intensified. He drew her in closer, one hand at the nape of her neck, the other at the small of her back.

Morgan let his kiss wash over her until she felt weak in the knees. She'd missed Rob so much – missed his touch so much. They hadn't taken things very far when she'd visited Montana, but she'd wanted to, and she knew he wanted to. It was going to be hard to hold him off this time.

When she began to think holding him off was the last thing she wanted to do, he broke off the kiss, looking as undone by it as she was. After searching her face with his gaze, he slowly knelt in front of her and pulled something out of his pocket. Her stomach flipped when she saw it was a velvet-covered jewelry case. He opened it and held up the ring inside.

"Morgan Tate, will you marry me?"

CHAPTER THREE

"Before you answer, hear me out," Rob rushed to say. Morgan's eyes had widened and her face lit up, but even so he knew that reality would soon come crashing down into her consciousness. Morgan was sensible. Practical.

She'd say they didn't know each other well enough yet.

She'd be right.

"I don't know how to say everything fast enough for you to hear it all before you make up your mind," he went on. "So, just…sit there, okay?" He pointed to the couch behind her and after a moment she dutifully sat down. She still looked stunned, however. Stunned, and her happy expression was fading fast. He'd better get going with that explanation. "You don't know much about me. What you do know probably isn't flattering." He winced at the thought of what his friends had probably told her about him during her visit to Montana last month. "But…" He sighed in frustration. This was hopeless. How could he explain everything that had happened in the last two days?

"What?" Morgan said when the pause drew out. Her voice was breathless.

"This is stupid. You won't understand." What had he been thinking? That he could fly to Victoria, explain all the thoughts swirling around in his own mind, and she'd somehow get on the same page as him?

She took his hand. "I think I will. I can. Give me a chance."

"Everyone thinks I'm a joke, Morgan. I’m not." He broke off again.

"I know you're not a joke. And I'm probably one of the best listeners you'll ever come across. I've got nowhere to go tonight, and I want to hear what you have to say. Start at the beginning and tell me all of it."

She wasn't pressing him to put the ring on her finger, and she hadn't taken it and thrown it out the window, either. Unlike his brothers or father, Morgan was willing to listen to him, like she had last month when they'd gotten to know each other. He couldn't remember any other woman giving him the kind of attention she did. Usually they wanted the same thing he was after – some beer, some dancing and some sex, not necessarily in that order. Small town girls who were dying to shake off the boredom of small town life, if only for a night.

Morgan was different, so he did as she asked. In the half-light of the hall lamp – the only switch she'd turned on when they entered the apartment – he sat on her floor and told her about his life. About the freewheeling time when he'd been too young for school or work and the whole world seemed alight with beauty and mystery, about his run-ins with his brothers – especially Ned – Holt's strictness, his mother's garden, the playground fights.

He told her how he'd cultivated a reputation as a prankster and tough guy, put aside his interest in the natural world, and buckled down to life on the ranch. How he'd soothed his dissatisfaction with liquor and women, and how none of it was enough anymore.

He even told her about Georgette, going to church, and meeting his mother in the garden.

"Something's got to change," he said. "And I've got an opportunity to jump start my future. I'm afraid to tell you about it, though. The only way I can get it is by using you, and you don't deserve that."

"Tell me."

She sat as still as she had throughout his monologue, but Rob hesitated. He couldn't believe he was saying this out loud. Surely Morgan would hate him afterwards. "My Dad's offered 200 acres to the first of us who brings home a wife. I could do a lot with that land. We could do a lot with it, you and me."

She sat back and Rob knew she was thinking all the thoughts he'd wanted her to avoid. That he was using her to get the land. That he didn't really care about her.

That maybe this was one of his practical jokes.

"It isn't a joke," he said softly. "I want a chance to change. To be the man I know I can be. I wish I could say that I love you, that I want to spend every waking moment of my life with you, and ask you to marry me for real. I think I will be able to say that to you someday soon. I think…really soon." He swallowed hard at the very thought. "But we've known each other for so short a time, I can't say it yet. I'm sorry." He got to his knees again, ready to stand up and head right back out the door. He never should have said anything to Morgan. Now he'd probably blown his chance with the only woman he thought he could fall in love with someday.

"I understand," Morgan said calmly, freezing him in place. "I appreciate how honest you've been. Sit down again for a minute. Can I tell you what I want?"

He sat down, wrapped his arms around his knees and waited, his heart pounding at what she might say. This was by far the strangest conversation he'd ever had. The most liberating, too. "Definitely."

"I want three things and I'll do just about anything to get them." She looked him straight in the eye, though he had a feeling it was hard for her to do so. "First, I want a winery – which means I need a vineyard." She held up one finger. "Second, I have some money saved up, but even if I had some land, I'd still need about twenty-thousand dollars more to buy rootstock and get it started." Another finger. "And third…"

"Third…?" Rob held his breath.

"I want a baby."

Heat blossomed inside him the moment his brain processed the concept of making a baby with Morgan. Images of her in his bed, writhing beneath him, gazing at him as he joined with her, clouded his head until he couldn't think straight. Morgan wasn't saying no to his proposal. In fact, maybe she was saying… "A baby with me?"

After a moment she nodded, but when he reached for her, she intercepted him, taking his hands in hers. "Wait. I think…I think there's more to say."

"Okay." He took a breath, hoping to make his heart stop pounding. The idea of having a child with Morgan revved him up more than he could understand. Suddenly he was seeing her in a whole new light.

He'd thought of his proposal as kind of a business transaction. A short-term deal that could get them both what they wanted. He'd figured in time they might very well divorce, but there was enough land for the two of them, and by then he'd have what he wanted – independence. A business of his own.

But what if Morgan became his wife for real? Forever?

He itched to unbutton the blouse she wore – hell, to tear it off of her – and get started making that baby right now. He didn't think they'd even make it to the bedroom. If he had his way, she'd conceive right here on the living room floor.

"Rob. Rob?" Morgan was talking to him and he hadn't heard a word she'd said.

"What?" He tried to focus on her lips. No, better focus on her eyes, instead. He couldn't kiss her eyes.

Unless they were closed and she was half-naked, lying beneath him...

Damn it. He shook the thoughts from his head and tried to pay attention.

"If I'm hearing you right, you thought we could marry, get the land and split it between us. Then get divorced after a while. That's not what I want." She held his gaze. "I want to be loved. I want the kind of love that lasts a lifetime. I want laughter and affection and honor and understanding. In fact, I want more than to be loved – I want to be cherished. And I know it's too soon," she rushed on when he opened his mouth to speak. "Like you said, you don't know me that well, and I don't know you, but it seems to me that love is possible between us, and if love is, maybe something more is, as well."

Rob nodded vigorously. Something was definitely possible between them.

"And if it's possible, maybe we can go ahead and choose it."

Choose it?

"I'm not sure I follow you," he said when it seemed like she was waiting for an answer.

"What if we choose to love each other?" she tried again, leaning forward so he got the barest glimpse down the neckline of her blouse. "What if you…decided to cherish me?" Her words drifted down to a whisper, but Rob heard every one. "I mean, could you really marry me if you didn't intend to follow through? Could you stand up in front of a minister and everyone and…lie?"

Rob sat back as the cold wash of reality broke over him. Lie in front of Joe Halpern? His family? His friends?

God?

No. He couldn't. He might joke and cheat and fool around. He might knock some idiot flat when the occasion required it. But he would not lie to God.

That's where he drew the line.

How on earth had he made it through picking out a ring, booking a flight and traveling all the way to Morgan's home without ever facing that stumbling block? He must have been crazy to think this ever could have worked.

It was hopeless.

Except…

"Say that again – the part about choosing?"

She slid off the couch and sat on the floor beside him. In the dim light he felt like a kid again, up way past his bedtime. It was dark and quiet in the apartment, aside from the whoosh of cars passing by outside now and then.

"What if we choose to love each other? What if we decided we would? What if we said that's it – we're going to be partners for the rest of our lives, and went ahead and made a marriage out of it?" She watched him, waiting for his reaction.

In a strange way it made sense. He'd never met another woman who interested him as much as Morgan. They had chemistry in spades, and she was as ambitious as he was – more, even. Could you decide to love someone?

"Think about all those people in arranged marriages," she said, touching his knee. His skin burned and he fought the urge to capture that small hand and bring it to his lips. "We'll arrange our own marriage. We'll force ourselves to be husband and wife."

The way he felt right now, no one would have to force him to do anything. "An arranged marriage," he repeated, watching the way her lips formed her words. In another minute he'd need to kiss her.

And then he'd need to do a hell of a lot more than that.

"Do you think it could work?" she asked, trying to meet his gaze again.

He leaned in for a kiss and an electric shock jolted through his body when their mouths joined. Choose to love this woman? Choose to spend his life with her?

Why not?

When he broke off the kiss, he leaned back, but kept his hand on her arm. "I need a few things, too."

"What?"

He'd swear she was as turned on as he was, and he wanted nothing more to ditch all the talking and go straight to bed. Still, these were serious matters and they deserved to be discussed.

"I want to be respected," he said, wanting to look anywhere other than at her face, but forcing himself not to turn away. He wondered if Morgan had felt like this when she stated her needs – like she was naked in public. "I'm not talking about me telling you what to do, and I'm not saying I won't ask for your input on major decision. But in matters of my business, I need to call my own shots. I need you to trust me that I'll do my best."

Morgan laughed, a happy sound. "Of course. I trust that already."

Rob's heart expanded, and some of the pain he'd felt the last couple of days slid away. "I want to try my hand at a thing or two before I decide what to do with my share of the land. I want support and an open mind."

"Got it."

"Most of all," he hesitated, not sure how to put this desire into words. "I want…"

Morgan waited. She looked eager to hear what he might say. Eager to agree to it. He took a breath and blurted it out.

"I want to be wanted."

A smile curved Morgan's lips.

"I want you," she said. "I don't imagine that will change."

"If you'll want me, I'll cherish you. I'll be the best husband I can be. The best father I can be. I swear I'll build us a life that shows you – shows you and our kids – how much you mean to me." He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers.

"I promise I'll respect you. Lust after you." She searched his face with his gaze. "I'll stand by you no matter what may come."

Rob found himself blinking. Something huge and hard shifted in his heart. To have an ally in life – an ally who wanted him… "Even if I'm not a rancher?"

"No matter what you choose to be."

He felt as if the ground was sliding beneath his feet. As if all the walls that ever held him in gave way at once, leaving him surrounded by a world of possibilities. Freed from a lifetime of his family's strictures, Morgan's words left his future open wide. "That's the best gift you could ever give me," he said gruffly. "I'll build you that winery. I'll get you that money."

"And I'll help you do whatever you decide to do."

"Let's have lots of babies together," he said, leaning forward to brush a kiss across her cheek.

She nodded, her eyes shining. "Hold on, just a minute." She got to her feet and moved first to the kitchen, then into her bedroom. Rob waited for her, secure in his soul for the first time in his memory that everything he was doing was exactly right.

Who would have guessed when he got on that plane that his life would change like this? Could it be only twenty-four hours ago that he was back in Montana, stuck, miserable…?

When she came back she held candles that she lit and put on the narrow coffee table.

"You kneel there," she said, pointing to one side. "Put the ring there." He did what she told him, placing it on the glass surface, curious to see what she'd do next.

She took a position on the other side, and set another ring in front of her. It looked old and tarnished, definitely meant for a man.

"My mother gave me a box of jewelry last year, some things she'd inherited but didn't use. This was one of them. I always liked it." She picked it up and took his hand. In the candle-light, she looked lovely – intent and radiant. "Rob Matheson, I promise right now to bind my life to yours, forever and always, to love you, honor you, respect you, and build a life by your side. I make this pledge now…" She trailed off uncertainly.

Rob picked up the thread. "In the presence of God?" he said softly. He felt like God was here in this room. Nothing he'd ever done had felt this right.

"In the presence of God," Morgan echoed. "Forever and ever, amen." She threaded the ring onto his finger.

Rob picked up the engagement ring Rose Bellingham had helped him choose this afternoon, with many assurances he was following the right path. This darkened, quiet living room was a far cry from the bustling chrome and glass interior of the little shop in the middle of Chance Creek.

"Morgan Tate, I promise right now to bind my life to yours, forever and always, to love you, honor you, cherish you and build a life by your side. I make this pledge in the presence of God. Forever and ever, amen."

He slid the ring onto her finger.

As he stared across the table, the candles guttering between them, Rob was positive he'd spun his life on its axis and it would never be the same again. He pulled her to stand, tugged her around the table, and bent to seal the bargain with a kiss.

Yes, he would choose to love this woman. He would choose to love her right now.

* * * * *

Morgan ran her fingers through her hair and checked her reflection in the mirror, gathering the courage to leave the washroom and return to the bedroom where Rob waited for her. She still felt like she was walking on air. Her own body didn't seem to belong to her. Instead it hummed and tingled and her heart beat fit to burst right out of her chest.

She had no idea what impulse made her fetch the ring and conduct her own quasi-wedding ceremony in the drab little living room of her apartment.

Of course it hadn't felt drab with the candles lit and Rob staring across the coffee table from her. It had felt magical. It still did.

And now she was going to make love to the man she'd spend the rest of her life with.

An idea that both thrilled and terrified her.

It had been a long time since she'd been with a man. A really, really long time.

And she wasn't entirely sure she should be with a man now. Hadn't she told herself she'd wait until her wedding night before she had sex again? She hesitated, staring at her reflection. Wasn't being engaged good enough? She'd promised to marry him, and he'd promised it, too.

She wanted to know what making love to Rob would be like. She'd waited long enough. Smiling, she opened the bathroom door, made her way to the bedroom and found Rob under the covers, leaning back against the headboard of her queen-sized bed.

"Thought you'd never get here." He grinned and her heart did a little flip.

"Sorry." She sat down on the end of the bed, and played with the coverlet. She was wearing a plain blue satin short nightie with spaghetti straps. She wished she'd had something sexier, but since she hadn't been with a man in such a long time, she…didn't.

"Come on over here. Let me get a better look at you." He took her hand and gently tugged it. She slid onto the bed and made her way closer to him. When he drew her into his arms, she sighed and accepted his kiss eagerly.

Soon he was ready for more, however. And when he slid her down onto her back and moved a hand up to her breast, her heart began to pound again. Was she ready for this – right now?

What if Rob changed his mind about getting married?

What if this was one of his jokes, after all?

She blocked his hand with her own, covering up the movement by lifting it to her mouth and kissing his palm. He moved it away and kissed her again, but just as she relaxed and focused on the taste of him, he slid his hand down to her neckline once more, tugging the thin cloth to the side to expose her breast to view. He pulled back, smiled in appreciation, and bent to take it into his mouth.

Morgan stiffened, and when he grazed her nipple with his tongue, she surged up and pushed him away. She hopped off the bed, gripping the nightie to her.

"What…hey – what's wrong?" Rob sat up, too, ready to come after her.

Morgan held out a hand to stop him. "I'm sorry. I'm not ready for this. I…can't."

Rob leaned back. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. I just…I thought…" She shook her head in confusion. Sliding out of bed, she grabbed a robe from a hook on the back of her door, but he scrambled out of the bed and stopped her before she could reach for the handle and escape into the living room.

"Hold on. What's happening? You can't walk out on me without an explanation."

"We're not married yet." She hesitated, trying desperately to keep her gaze above his waist. She should have told him earlier about her vow. He was right – this wasn't fair, but she hadn't expected to still feel this way. "I don't believe in sex before marriage," she blurted, afraid if she didn't, she'd lose her nerve.

He stopped in his tracks. "Are you saying you're a virgin?"

Now she had his attention, she thought wryly. "No. I'm not a virgin. I didn't always have this attitude toward sex, but some years back I had a…scare. And the man involved was the last man I'd pick to raise a child with. I realized I had to stop fooling around, so to speak."

Rob didn't smile at her little joke. In fact, he looked downright angry. "How long's it been since you've done it?"

She felt her cheeks heat. "About five years."

"Five years?" Now he was shocked. And her neighbors knew the length of her dry spell, too, since he'd practically shouted the words.

"It's been a while," she acknowledged curtly. She felt like she'd been caught doing something perverse, instead of the opposite. Why should she have to feel bad about abstaining? She held the moral high ground. Didn't she?

Rob cocked his head, relaxing a little. "Is this about your mother?"

Damn. Nailed it right on the nose. "Yes. It's about Aria. I grew up hearing how much my birth screwed up everyone's lives. I won't do that to a child."

"But you just told me you wanted to get pregnant. You said you wanted a baby," Rob said, moving closer. "How exactly am I supposed to get that done if we don't have sex?"

"You can get that done on our wedding night." She couldn't believe him. Was he really trying to use her desire for a child to seduce her?

"Meanwhile, you want us to keep our distance." He began to advance on her again, and she was all too aware of a certain part of his anatomy. Evidently it hadn't gotten the news that there wouldn't be any under-the-sheets celebrations tonight.

Although…

"We can still fool around," she heard herself say as he pulled her back into his arms. He bent down and scraped a kiss across her jaw. "I think that's only natural." Her voice faltered as he nipped her earlobe.

"Oh, yeah?" Rob straightened. So did that certain piece of his anatomy she was trying so hard to ignore. "How much fooling around do you think is okay to do?" He pulled her in tighter.

Morgan laughed breathlessly. "As much as it takes."

He brushed another kiss over her forehead. "I'm up for fooling around."

Boy, was he. She scooted away, putting a few inches between them. "I'm serious, though, Rob. If you so much as try to go farther than the limits I've set, I'll tell you to leave and I'll mean it. It's hard enough sticking to my guns without you pressuring me."

"Do you find it hard to stick to your guns?" He edged closer again.

"Only around you," she said.

A smile curved his mouth. "That's what I like to hear."

"So you think you can get this done without going all the way?" she pushed.

He grinned and her heart gave a funny flip-flop. Damn, he was handsome. Damn, she wanted him.

"Probably can think of something. But about that wedding…"

"Yes?" Now that they'd settled matters she couldn't wait to feel his touch again.

"Let's get hitched tomorrow." He cupped her ass and pulled her in tight.

"You got it, cowboy," she said with a happy sigh.

CHAPTER FOUR

Had he ever wanted a woman as much as he wanted Morgan? Rob didn't think so. As he laid her back on the bed and fumbled with her nightie, he found that his fingers were trembling. He felt like he'd slipped downstairs early on Christmas morning and found all the presents he'd asked for under the tree. He couldn't wait to see her – all of her – as soon as he got rid of this stupid piece of satin.

Morgan seemed as eager to unwrap him. She reached for his buttons, but he was ahead of her. He shucked off his shirt and groaned with pleasure as she trailed kisses down his neck and chest.

"How the hell do you get this thing off," he growled in frustration, turning back to the nightie, ready to tear it off of her.

Morgan laughed, pushed his fingers away and made short work of stripping it up over her head.

The sound that came from his throat was half animal and all desire. He swept down to sweep his tongue around one full nipple and Morgan arched back with a little gasp. That was all the invitation he needed. Hunger growing inside him, he cupped her breasts and lavished them with attention.

He'd heard what she said, and he wouldn't push her boundaries, but otherwise all bets were off. He intended to show Morgan what he could do beneath the sheets, and meant to leave them both craving their wedding night. Nothing wrong with a little anticipation, and nothing wrong with a little fulfillment in the meantime. He was prepared to fulfill her every carnal wish.

Morgan slid her hands down his back as he took first one breast and then the other into his mouth. When Morgan cupped his ass and squeezed, he groaned aloud.

He wriggled lower, swooping kisses across her belly, running hands down her sides to curve over her hips. When he knew she was aching for a more intimate touch, he reached down and traced a finger over her folds. Morgan stiffened again.

"Shhh," he whispered into her belly. "I know the rules." With a hand on either side of her waist, he pushed himself up and kneed her legs apart, but instead of bending down then to minister to her, he sat back and gazed at her instead. He'd longed for weeks to see her like this, naked and disheveled, waiting for him, and he wanted to drink in the view.

After a moment she wriggled. "What are you doing?"

He knew what it cost her to bare herself to him this way, but that was what they'd promised each other out in the living room; that they would choose to love each other. Choose to make a life together.

Choose to give themselves to the other heart and soul.

"Looking at you." Morgan stared back at him, tense but aroused, too, judging by her flushed face and parted lips. "You're beautiful," he assured her. "I could look at you all night."

A smile curved her lips that was nearly irresistible. Every fiber in his body tugged at him to lean forward – to cross the divide between them and touch her.

Make love to her.

Still, he held back, and not out of a fear that he wouldn't be able to restrain himself once he did touch her. Rob wanted to see this woman he was pairing his life with. He wanted to know all of her. He'd never done this before; just sat and…looked.

"You're scaring me," Morgan whispered finally.

He shook his head. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Show me."

It was almost a whimper, and the thought of his fiancée waiting for his touch – longing for it – finally propelled him to action.

As he bent to touch his mouth to her core, Rob had the feeling that marrying Morgan would be the easiest thing he ever did.

* * * * *

When Rob's mouth touched her, Morgan very nearly came undone right then and there. She'd had no idea how much she ached for him, until he began his sensual attack. His tongue was sweet agony, and she gripped the bedspread to keep from thrashing under his attention. She wanted him inside her more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life. Only the promise she'd kept for so long held her back.

What would their wedding night be like? Would they try to conceive right away? She knew one thing; she'd gladly make love to him then. She could barely restrain herself now. As Rob moved his tongue farther into her folds, she moaned aloud. He paused, and she let go of the coverlet and wrapped her hands in his hair. "Don't stop," she cried, and he chuckled but resumed. Licking, touching, he slipped his hands beneath her ass and squeezed, crushing her against his mouth.

With a cry, Morgan went over the edge, bucking against him, shuddering with pleasure again and again until finally she was spent.

He kissed her thighs, brushed his mouth over her sensitive mound and propped himself on his elbows, the better to see her face. Morgan covered her eyes with her hands. "Sorry," she said. "I meant to wait for you."

He slid up beside her and nudged her hands away. "I liked watching you come."

Heat surged into her cheeks. No man had ever done what he'd done before – simply sat back and looked at her – all of her – for so long. At first she hadn't liked it; she felt stripped of every defense she had along with her clothes, but as the moments ticked by, she'd understood what Rob was feeling. His desire for her and his wonder at her body bathed her in warmth until she hummed with anticipation of the acts to come. She hoped he loved to watch her as much in ten years as he did now. She hoped their marriage stayed passionate.

But right now, she wanted to get a better look at him. "Your turn now," she said, pushing him down on the bed.

"If you insist."

CHAPTER FIVE

The next morning, Rob called his father's cell phone as he watched Morgan grab a box of fiber cereal from her barren cupboards and a small carton of one percent milk from the fridge. Yuck. That was her idea of breakfast?

"Rob? Where the hell are you?" Holt said. "It's past time for chores." Behind him, cattle lowed and bawled. He must be right among the herd.

"I know. I'm…out of town. Actually I'm out of the country."

"Out of the country? What the hell does that mean?"

"I'm in Canada – with Morgan. I've got some news." Rob grinned when Morgan lifted her head and smiled tentatively at him. "Dad, just listen, will you? I'm getting married."

He held his breath. From the look of things, Morgan was holding hers, too.

"Married."

"That's right, married," he said. "To Morgan Tate, Ethan and Claire's half-sister. I'm in Victoria right now. Last night she agreed to be my wife." He flashed her a thumb's up.

"You're marrying that whore's daughter?"

Rob jerked and spun on his heel, striding to the far side of the living room, afraid Morgan might be able to hear his father's words. "Dad. That's no way to talk…"

"I'm calling it like I see it. If my wife ran around like Aria Cruz did, she'd see the backside of my hand. I certainly wouldn't hitch my wagon to a filly whose mare was that kind of wild." Holt was breathing hard, probably walking back to the barn or the house, to get away from the noise of the cattle.

"For God's sake." After a furtive look in Morgan's direction, Rob paced to the bedroom and shut the door behind him. "First of all, I never want to hear you speak about my wife or my wife's family like that again. Second of all, it's no fault of Morgan's if her parents' marriage was less than perfect. My parents' marriage ain't all sunshine and roses, either."

"You done?" Holt growled.

"For now," Rob growled right back. "If I think of anything else, I'll let you know."

"When's this so-called wedding?"

"Tonight if I can swing it. Tomorrow or the next day if I can't. We haven't figured out what it takes to get a civil marriage yet."

"Civil marriage? A civil marriage ain't going to do you any good. You want the land I told you about, you'll get married right here on our lawn."

"But…"

"But what? You afraid if she has to wait a month or two, she'll lose interest? Or are you paying her to marry you? You get a divorce, I'll expect that land back, you hear me? Should have known the first thing you'd do is pull off some joke."

Rob's anger surged. "I'm not joking, and we planned a civil wedding because we were in a hurry. And yeah, part of that hurry is I'm afraid Jake or Ned will beat me to it and grab that land. I don't trust you to keep your word."

He wondered if he'd gone too far. Holt had many faults, but he considered himself to be an honorable man.

"I won't go back on my word as long as the marriage is real. You bring back that girl of yours and you stand up before our family and friends and pledge your vows, and I'll give you the land then and there. But if I think you're playing a trick, the whole thing's off."

"Fine." Rob opened the bedroom door and walked out into the living room again in order to consult with Morgan. She was still eating her cereal, and raised her eyebrows at him. "We have to get married on the ranch," he told her. "How about two weeks from Saturday?"

"A week after Claire and Jamie get married?" Morgan asked. "Will they even be back from their honeymoon?"

"Shit."

"Those Cruzes are having a wedding in a week or so," Holt was saying in his ear, echoing Morgan's words. "Can't have two weddings in a row. You'd better wait a month." He heard paper shuffling on the other end of the phone. Holt must be consulting one of his many calendars. He got them free from local banks and feed companies each year, and posted one in every barn and outbuilding on the spread. "October eleventh. Might be chilly. We'll have to prepare for bad weather. I'll leave that up to your mother to sort out."

"October eleventh? That's…" He turned a pleading expression on Morgan.

"That's perfect," she said, and to his surprise she actually seemed happy. Maybe she hadn't been as thrilled at the prospect of a quick, civil wedding as he was. Women never were. She probably wanted all that dress and flower stuff.

"What if Jake or Ned or Luke decides to get married before I even get home?" he asked his father.

"Nah – you've staked your claim," Holt said. "I'll put you on the phone with your mother next. If you tell her she can start planning that wedding, then I won't let no one else jump the line ahead of you until after October eleventh. If you call the wedding off, though, the field's wide open again."

"Okay, well…all right. As long as they can't pull a fast one on me. I'll have Morgan home tomorrow night. Wait…she's trying to tell me something."

"I can't leave tomorrow – I have to give some notice at work and pack. I've already got tickets for September second, the night before Claire and Jamie's wedding. That's when we'll go."

Rob thought about arguing with her, then decided against it. He spoke into the phone again. "Morgan needs time to tie up some loose ends here, so we'll be home next Friday. Put Mom on. I'll let Morgan talk to her."

"All right. But don't expect your mother to waste her time planning a wedding until you and your bride actually roll into town. We know your track record. You don't have a chance in hell at pulling this off."

"Thanks a lot for that vote of confidence, Dad," he said, his anger finally getting the best of him. "Don't worry about tracking down Mom. I'll call her cell directly." He hung up with an oath.

"What did he say?" Morgan, finished with her breakfast, approached him, concern in her gaze.

"He can never let me do things my way," he finally said. "Not even my own damned wedding. He says it doesn't count unless we get married at the ranch. The whole town has to be present, too, and since Claire and Jamie are getting married on Labor Day we have to wait at least a month afterwards. That means October 11th. That's six weeks away!"

"That's not too long." Morgan looked pleased at the chance for a ranch wedding.

"Six weeks for my father to think of other ways to screw with me," Rob said. "Mark my words, he'll figure out some way to back out of giving me that land."

"Giving us that land, you mean," Morgan said, glancing at her watch and heading toward the bedroom. "You're not giving up, are you? Do you want to call it off?" She hesitated by the door.

"No." Rob's quick and vehement answer surprised himself as much as her. "My brothers and mother all heard him say he'd give the land to the first son to get married. There'll be five of us against one if he pulls something. Almost a fair fight. I'm supposed to call my Mom and let her know what's going on. She'll want to start to plan the wedding."

"I have to get going or I'll be late for work. How about we call her tonight?"

* * * * *

Morgan sat in her tiny office at Cassidy Wineries, wondering if she could stay in it throughout the next week. She had handed in her resignation and Elliot was simply furious. So far she'd avoided Duncan, but she knew that couldn't last. He often didn't get to work until late in the morning, so any minute now he'd knock on her door and launch into his latest idiocy. She should have quit point blank and left for Montana a week and a half early, but her prudent side – the side that had seen her through a lifetime of needing to watch her own back, since no one else would watch it for her – dictated that she give her employer some notice to find her replacement. Best not to burn every bridge she currently had in the wine industry, in case things went sour with Rob and she found herself back here looking for a job. Besides, in four nights the winery was celebrating the launch of her vintage.

She should march back into Elliot's office and tell him exactly what had transpired last night, but what did she expect Elliot to do? He'd make another excuse, pat her arm like a compassionate uncle and sweep the whole affair under the rug. Duncan was his son, after all.

Unable to hide any longer, she slid her door open a crack and stepped into the distillery room, hoping against hope Duncan would stay away.

Nope. He must have been waiting for her.

"Morgan!" he called from behind one of the massive vats. "Vineyard. Now."

She sighed, slowing her pace to a crawl as she followed him outside.

"I spoke to your father this morning," she told his back.

"I hope for your sake you didn't tell any tales out of school, Tate."

"I handed in my resignation."

He stopped short and turned around. "Resignation? Where do you think you're going? No one's going to hire someone as insubordinate as you."

Just as she thought; he would do whatever it took to undermine any job search she made locally. Thank God she didn't have to – yet. "I'm not looking for another job."

"Oh yeah? What are you doing?"

Caution warred with the desire to see him squirm. "Getting married."

She stalked past him toward the vineyards, unprepared for how freeing that revelation felt. For once she didn't care what Duncan was doing behind her back. She didn't care if she was headed in the right direction or what he would tell her to do next. In a sudden surge of excitement, she realized she didn't have to do a damn thing he said for the rest of her time at Cassidy Wineries. What was he going to do – fire her?

She walked down the first long row of grapevines she reached, knowing that she would miss them, even if she didn't give Duncan another thought once she left Victoria. She knew these fields well, even if the bulk of her time was spent indoors. She didn't dislike overseeing the growth of the grapes; you couldn't be a vintner without a love of the fruit itself. But she far preferred the precision and science of the distillery. Duncan knew that, and he always tried to tear her away from the things she loved.

She figured he planned to get his revenge for last night's escape by marching her up and down the rows of perfectly developing grapes instead of letting her monitor the giant machinery that turned the humble fruit into the nectar of the gods.

He probably also wanted her out here to get time alone with her. Normally when they worked the fields, he took every opportunity to accidently brush by her, or take her hand to lead her, or wrap an arm about her as they surveyed the magnificence of the vines heavy with their fruit. Today he'd better not try any of those tricks.

Morgan pushed her heavy, dark hair away from her face. It was hot and dusty in the fields. She already felt sweat trickling down her back under the crisp material of her blouse.

"This could have been ours someday, you know," Duncan said, leaning in close. He touched her arm. "The old geezer won't last forever. I'll inherit everything. Whoever you're marrying doesn't have anything to compare to this."

"He's got plenty," Morgan said, moving away. "And it's morbid to wait around for your father to die."

He pursued her. "It's practical. You love this vineyard and you've been working here forever. Marry me and you'll own half of it."

"I'm engaged." She waggled her ring in his face. "So drop it already."

"Come off it, Morgan – you know you're trying to make me jealous…who the hell is that?"

She turned to look in the direction he was facing and saw a tall man making his way along the row of grapevines towards them. A tall man in a cowboy hat.

Her heart thrilled, then sank. She didn't want Rob here.

Rob stopped to play with the winery's two dogs that raced out to see who this stranger was. In an instant he had them frolicking and bounding like puppies and she felt the corner of her mouth turning up. Animals loved Rob and he loved them back – she'd seen that on the Cruz ranch. She envied his easy comfort with them.

"Do you know him?" Duncan demanded, already moving forward. Morgan hustled after him. Visitors weren't allowed to walk in the fields. No one was allowed in the fields without the express permission of one of the Cassidys.

"Yes – that's my fiancé. He's visiting from Montana. He must have gotten bored back at my apartment."

Duncan stopped in his tracks and she nearly walked into him. "You're serious, aren't you? You've got a fiancé? And you went out with me last night? How come you never mentioned him?"

"I didn't want to go out with you last night. You told me your father had called a meeting, remember?" She wasn't going to explain to him just how short a time she'd actually known Rob.

He got moving again, lengthening his strides until she practically had to run to keep up with him. They met Rob halfway down the row of grapes. Duncan stuck out his hand. "Hi – I'm Duncan Cassidy. My family owns this vineyard. Morgan says you’re her fiancé."

Rob looked from one to the other of them, and met Duncan's handshake. "That's right. I'm Rob Matheson."

Morgan wanted to hide her head in her hands. Dammit, why hadn't she told Rob he absolutely couldn't come here? If he got any whiff of the fact that Duncan had tried to kidnap her last night, she didn't know what he'd do. She'd seen him beat the crap out of one man – the guy who'd attacked her when she and Claire went after her stolen possessions. The result hadn't been pretty. If he did the same thing to Duncan, her reputation in the industry would be toast.

But Duncan's fake smile of greeting broadened. "Rob – so good to finally meet you. Morgan's talked about you non-stop since she got back from her vacation."

Rob's eyebrows shot up. "Really? What's she been saying?"

"Something about you Montana boys putting us Canadians to shame." Duncan laughed heartily and clapped Rob on the shoulder. Morgan truly wanted to sink into the ground. She'd never said any such thing. Rob would think she was bragging about him. "What do you think of our operation?"

Rob surveyed the field of grapes. "Haven't seen much of it. How old are these vines? Four or five years?"

Duncan seemed surprised by his interest. "Six years, actually. Do you grow your own?"

"Grapes in Montana? Now that you mention it, I'm not sure if they grow there." He glanced at Morgan, as if wondering if that might throw a kink in the works.

"Actually, they do. There are a couple of wineries in the state," Morgan put in, happy to reassure Rob about that fact, and even happier to keep the conversation on a safe track. If she could get Rob away from Duncan before he did any more damage…

"How about I give you a tour?" Duncan asked Rob.

Rob settled his hat in a more comfortable position on his head. "Well, I was hoping Morgan might be up to that task."

"Of course," she began, pushing past Duncan to stand in between them.

"Unfortunately, Morgan needs to return to the distillery," Duncan said, easily elbowing her away. "She's working, you know, and we're only getting the benefit of her know-how for a few more days. I suppose you're the reason she's leaving, eh? As the owner, I love showing guests around our operation. We'll start outside and work our way in."

"That's mighty friendly of you." Rob looked at Morgan and gave a little shrug, as if to say, "It's better than nothing."

"I really don't have any pressing tasks in the distillery," Morgan tried again.

"It's unusual to have guests drop by during work hours, Morgan," Duncan said in a steely voice that brooked no opposition. "It's lucky I'm here to take over as tour guide so you don't have to send him straight home again."

"It is lucky," Rob said, seeming to grasp the situation fully now. "The last thing I want is to get Morgan here in trouble. You can't blame a man for wanting to be close to his girl, though, can you?" Rob persisted, nudging Duncan. Morgan thought she might keel over and die right then and there.

"No. You definitely can't blame a man for that," Duncan said, shooting her a significant look. "Run along now, Morgan. Back to work. I'll take care of your friend, here."

She was sure he would.

CHAPTER SIX

As Rob watched Morgan walk away, he had the feeling he'd made a big mistake coming to the vineyard. He should have gone sight-seeing like she told him to, but alone in her apartment he'd felt like the walls were closing in.

Was he really ready for marriage and fatherhood? For starting a business and settling down? What if he failed? What if he screwed up with his kids?

He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent an entire day indoors, and within an hour he was pacing in circles around the living room. Morgan's bookcases caught his attention for a short time. Her interests ranged from horticulture to anthropology, art history to beekeeping, and everything in between. But when he tried to sit down and read, he soon found himself on his feet again. He supposed he could have gone for a walk, but the concrete sidewalks and crowded buildings didn't call him at all.

He wanted to be near Morgan. To touch her again. Needing to distract himself from that train of thought, he gestured to the grapes and asked Duncan, "How long has your family been in the business?"

"Three generations," Duncan said proudly. "My granddad bought this land. It's part of my blood."

"Like my ranch back home. The Mathesons have lived there since 1848," Rob said. "Feels strange to be away from it."

"So you and Morgan are getting hitched."

"Yep."

"Should have known there was someone in her life. Come on, let me show you around."

Rob thought he'd find the tour annoying, since he'd really come to see Morgan, but to his surprise he found it fascinating. At first Duncan seemed to want to talk more about Morgan than about the grapes, and Rob had the sneaking suspicion the man had the hots for her, but after he'd asked a few pointed questions about the rootstock, irrigation and the kinds of pests they had to deal with, Duncan launched into explanations and couldn't seem to stop talking. Rob imagined he rarely had an audience that was actually interested in the minutiae of growing such a finicky crop, but he'd spent enough time around his mother to know what questions to ask, and to process the information he received in return.

Most of the farmers he knew in Montana grew wheat. He'd never thought about the possibility of cultivating grapes. He itched to be back at Morgan's apartment, where he could look up the wineries she'd mentioned on the Internet and see if any were near to Chance Creek. Most likely not. He'd have heard of them, wouldn't he?

Of course, he and his friends drank beer and whiskey, not wine.

His parents had quite a cellar-full laid in, though. Maybe they knew more about it.

"You must need a lot of workers to tend these fields," he said. Duncan raised a hand to shade his eyes and scanned the rows of grapes.

"There." He pointed and Rob squinted against the glare. He saw a number of men bent over the plants some rows away. "Most of them come up from Mexico for the harvest."

"Migrant workers?"

Duncan shrugged. "A few of them have done such a good job we've hired them permanently. We were able to help them immigrate to Canada and become citizens. The rest come and go. Let's see how they're doing."

Rob hung back when they approached the men hard at work. They all wore baseball caps to protect their faces from the sun. A few had tucked towels under their hats to hang down over their necks for further protection. They needed cowboy hats, he decided. Maybe seeing his would give them the right idea.

"Raoul, Thomas, Eduardo, meet Rob Matheson. He's visiting Victoria and I'm giving him a tour of the winery. Raoul and Thomas work for us permanently. Eduardo here is new this year."

The men all murmured greetings. Thomas took Duncan aside and launched into a discussion about the grapes and the exact day he thought they would be ready to harvest. Raoul and Eduardo gazed at Rob expectantly. He searched for a way to carry on the conversation.

"Do you like it here?" he asked.

Both men shook their heads yes emphatically. "Living here is like living in paradise," Raoul said. "I can feed my family, house them, they have medical care."

"Only thing is," Eduardo said, his accent more pronounced than Raoul's, "the food." He shook his head. "Very bad."

Raoul laughed. "Not enough Mexican food in Victoria," he agreed. "We need more immigrants. Maybe your wife someday, eh?" he nudged Eduardo. "Eduardo hopes Mr. Cassidy will take him on permanently, too. Help him immigrate, like he did me." He turned to his friend. "You have to work, work, work! First here in the morning, last gone at night, like I did all those years." To Rob he said. "I proved I was the best vineyard worker. Mr. Cassidy couldn't bear to see me go."

"You have to take time off, though," Rob said. "Live a little. Have some fun, right?" That had always been his mantra, anyhow.

Raoul became stern. "Fun is for people like you, Mr. Matheson. People who have all they need already. Me and Eduardo, we work, work, work to survive. Fun is being alive another day."

"Fun is food to eat at night," Eduardo put in wryly.

Rob scratched the back of his neck. He always seemed to be saying or doing the wrong thing these days. "Do you like the work, at least?"

"Work is work," Raoul said. "But yes, I like the growing things. I like to see the grapes reach the harvest. My muscle," he patted his arms, "my sweat – it is turned into food right before my eyes!"

Rob smiled at that. He'd never thought of work that way – that sometimes the result of the labor could be so tangible. He supposed it was like that on the ranch, but since he only did a task here, a job there, he didn't take in the whole process.

And whose fault is that?

He shifted uncomfortably. It was his own damn fault, he knew that. He barely showed up for the small tasks his father and brothers set him. He sure as hell didn't work, work, work like Raoul was advising Eduardo to do. He'd never proved himself the best man for the job in any tangible way.

Was that because he was too busy bucking his family's hierarchy, and getting back at his brothers for their earlier misdeeds, or was it because ranching didn't interest him all that much?

And if he wasn't interested in ranching, what did he want to do?

He surveyed the fields around him again.

No, he wasn't a farmer, or vintner, or whatever you called it. His love was horses and the rodeo. No way you'd find him mucking about in fields.

Even if it did look interesting.

"Mind if I try?" he asked Raoul, not sure why he wanted to prune grapevines. Something about watching the other men thin the foliage made his fingers itch to grab a pair of shears and get to work, though. Maybe it was the way the vines looked refreshed afterward – like they could breathe better.

Raoul had explained that the grapes were ripening and becoming sweet. Cutting back the leaves to the perfect balance of fruit to foliage pushed this process forward. According to Raoul, that was highly desired.

Duncan, coming back to his side after finishing his conversation, raised his eyebrows when he saw what Rob was doing. "You want to work?"

"Sure. I've got nothing better to do. Still an hour until lunch time, right?"

Duncan looked at his watch. "Try two. You get bored, you come and find me; we'll finish that tour." But the man had a smirk on his face, probably thrilled to leave his rival toiling in the fields like one of the hired help. Rob didn't give that a second thought, though.

"Show me again which leaves to take off," he said to Raoul.

By the end of the afternoon, Rob's back ached in ways he hadn't thought possible. He had always considered himself a strong man, and for all his tendencies to put pleasure before responsibility, he knew how to do a full day's work, but the repetitive process of removing foliage from the bottom of the plants – leaving just enough leaves to shade the ripening grapes from the full-on sun – turned out to be harder than he would have expected.

Raoul and the other men shared their lunches with him during their short break, and only afterwards did Rob realize he probably should have sought out Morgan and eaten with her.

Still, when he went to meet her in the parking lot at five o'clock, he felt the satisfaction of having worked with his hands and done a good job. Why didn't ranching ever feel like that?

Maybe it was time for a career change.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"I can't believe you worked in the vineyards," Morgan said again as they entered her apartment.

"Yeah, well get used to it," Rob drawled. He'd been evasive about his intentions in helping out the Mexican field workers. She had no idea if he was trying to impress her, or get even with her for leaving him stranded in her apartment the day after they'd gotten engaged. He'd certainly confused Duncan, who'd loitered outside for a half-hour waiting for him to get bored and come back for the rest of that tour before coming inside to complain to her about her bizarre boyfriend.

"What do you mean, get used to it?"

"I'm going back tomorrow. Raoul said they could use another pair of hands, and Duncan said he'd pay me the going rate."

"You realize the going rate is minimum wage." She dropped her keys on the counter and flipped through her mail.

"It's more than I'll get if I sit here on my ass. Hold on, phone's ringing." He pulled out his cell phone and checked the screen. "It's my mom – probably for you." He shoved it into her hands and disappeared into the bedroom before she could protest. Morgan clicked it on and held it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Morgan, is that you? I'm so glad you answered, honey. I wanted to talk to you about colors."

"Colors?"

"We've got to start somewhere, don't you think? October eleventh isn't that far off. What's your favorite color, honey?"

"Um…I don't know."

"You don't know your own favorite color?" Lisa laughed. "Sounds like that son of mine has got you all turned around up there."

She was partially right. Between Rob's sudden appearance and their whirlwind decision to spend their lives together, and his bizarre behavior at the winery today, she was a bit addled. But what truly left her speechless was Lisa's attitude. They hadn't even met yet and she was acting like they were old friends. Almost like a…mother.

"I really like mint green. I don't know if that helps."

"That helps a whole lot," Lisa said. "Now, I've started a guest list. I'm at 212 at the present. Both Holt's family and mine have lived in this area over 100 years, so we know almost everyone in the county. I'm trying not to let it get out of control. You'll need to send me your list. Do you have an estimate?"

Morgan steadied her breath, but the question pierced her to the core. "Maybe…maybe you can give me some advice," she said finally. "I have a number of female friends in the area, but I don't expect them to spend the money to travel to Montana. Do I still invite them?"

"Of course – let them decide whether to make the trip or not. We've got extra rooms on the ranch, and I daresay your family does, too. We can put some of them up for the wedding. What about family?" Lisa's voice was kind and that made it all the worse.

"I hope my father will come. He's really the only family I have left."

"Of course he'll come. He'll have to walk you up the aisle, won't he?"

Morgan couldn't bear to say aloud that she wasn't at all sure he'd make the time. His wife wouldn't like him flying to Montana for such a task.

"Of course," she said, as firmly as she could.

"Now, Morgan, I want you to be straight with me," Lisa said. Morgan stiffened. Here it came – the accusation she'd been bracing herself against ever since Rob disappeared into his bedroom the previous evening when he was on the phone with his father. His parents had to be wondering if this was all a joke, or if they were being lied to. She was sure Lisa would press her for an answer. "I've waited so long for this," Lisa said. "I had a plain wedding – we had no money at all in those days. Just my parents and siblings and my best friend for my bridesmaid. I vowed right then that if any of my children got married we'd throw them a fairy-tale wedding. Of course, I figured I'd have at least one girl," She trailed off wistfully for a moment, "but the good Lord saw fit to give me four ornery sons. Now that I'm finally getting to throw a wedding I want to do it right. But it's not my wedding. It's yours. You speak up now and tell me to butt right out of it if that's what you want."

Morgan laughed in relief. "Of course not. It's going to be at your house, for one thing."

"That doesn't mean I get to boss you around. The bride calls the shots; that's the way I see it."

"Are you sure this isn't too much trouble for you?" Morgan said. The truth was Lisa's exuberance was overwhelming her. She'd expected anger and suspicion. Instead she was getting enthusiasm.

"Trouble? Are you kidding? I'm over the moon! Of all my sons, Rob's the one I've wanted to see settle down. You have a good man there, Morgan. I hope you know that."

"You don't think it's too soon?" She glanced up to make sure Rob wasn't listening, but he'd disappeared into the bathroom and she could hear the shower running.

"The heart knows what the heart knows. There are some tricks to making a marriage work and I'd be happy to pass on what little wisdom I have, but at the heart of it are a few simple questions. Do your eyes light up when Rob walks into the room? Does your heart skip a beat? Do you feel drawn to him?"

"Yes," Morgan said, smiling a little.

"And when you're angry, are you really angry? Like, ready to blow your top angry?"

"That would be a good thing?" Morgan asked. She hadn't had time to be that angry with Rob yet.

"Yes. Passion. It's all about passion," Lisa said. "When you couldn't care less if he comes or goes, and you can't muster up the energy to get truly angry at him; that's when you've got a problem."

"Hmmm." She'd have to remember that.

"I'm going to let you go have your supper now. I'm going to email you some menu ideas. Are you on Pinterest? I have a whole board of bouquets! You have to friend me."

Morgan held the phone away from her ear. Friend her mother-in-law?

"As soon as you get here we'll go to Ellie's Bridals. If she doesn't have exactly what you want, we'll get it custom made. Rob sent me a photo of you; you'll make a lovely bride."

"Okay," Morgan said, trying to keep up. "But…we haven't talked about the cost. I have some money…"

"Honey, you stop worrying right now. Any woman who's head over heels in love with my baby is going to get pampered from here to next week by me! You won't be footing the bill for a single thing. That's my job. Aria and I were never exactly what you'd call close, but we were friendly and I know she'd want me to do this for you. If she were here, she'd throw you the wedding of the century. Since she can't, I will. Talk to you tomorrow."

And with that, she hung up.

"You okay?" Rob said, entering the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. "What did she say to you?" He frowned with concern when she didn't answer right away.

Morgan shook herself out of her thoughts. She was floored by Lisa's friendliness and generosity. "I'm fine. She said all the right things." She smiled. This was going to work; finally, she was going to get the family and community she always wanted.

* * * * *

"Of course I'm happy for you," Ethan said when Rob called him. "But I'm stunned. You and Morgan only met last month. You sure you're not rushing into things?"

"You got married to Autumn after only knowing her a month."

"Well, sure – but I lived with her for that month, day and night."

"Emphasis on the nights, huh?"

"Stow it."

Rob chuckled, but Ethan's reaction made him uneasy. Everyone was going to question their sincerity when they heard about their engagement, and he didn't want Morgan to lose her nerve.

"So, one thing," Rob said carefully. "My Dad's going to give us some land as a wedding gift, and I promised Morgan we'd use half of it to start a vineyard."

"You're going to grow grapes in Montana?"

"Yeah – I looked into it. It's possible."

"Seems like a silly thing to do. Cattle's way more profitable."

Rob tamped down on the irritation that surged within him. He'd expected Ethan, at least, to be supportive. "She's my bride. I want to make her happy."

That shut Ethan up. "Okay. I guess I see your point."

"Anyway, for my gift to Morgan I'm giving her a down payment for her business. I want her to have everything she'll need to get prepared for next spring. Between tilling, rootstock, stakes and wires and the rest of it, she estimates it'll take twenty grand above and beyond what she's got to get things started."

"You got that kind of cash kicking around?"

Rob sighed. "You know I don't. Dad gives us room and board, but not much extra. I got a truck payment and a running tab down at the Boot. I figure I've got about eight thousand in the bank."

"In other words you're looking for either a handout or for work," Ethan said. "I've got work, but I don't pay twelve grand a month."

"I know, buddy. I'm hoping you have some ideas about who might."

Ethan was silent for a while. "You know, with all this settling down and wanting a job, I'm not sure I know who you are anymore."

"Ethan," Rob growled.

"All right, all right – I'll think it over and let you know what I come up with. Meanwhile, I've got one thing to say to you." Suddenly, Ethan sounded dead serious.

"What's that?"

"If you hurt my sister, you're going to be in a world of pain."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Three days later it was Saturday, the day of the party at Cassidy's to honor Morgan's first vintage. In some ways it had been the best week of her life. Even though the hours in the distillery were long, she knew that Rob was working in the fields with Raoul and the other men close at hand. At night, they went home to pack her things and then fall in to bed to explore each other's bodies and find every which way to wring pleasure out of them. On the other hand, the strain was telling on her. Elliot was angry with her for wanting to leave, and Duncan seemed to be going out of his way to make her life miserable. If it hadn't been for the celebration of her new vintage tonight, she would have walked out days ago.

Only a week to go, she told herself as she finished getting dressed. When she came out of the bedroom a moment later, Rob whistled.

"You look stunning."

Dressed in a scarlet sheath dress with a sweetheart neckline and a knee-length, pencil-thin fitted skirt, she felt sexy and curvy and knew he'd have a hard time keeping his hands off of her. Her matching stiletto heels and scarlet lipstick made a bold statement, and she'd done her dark hair up into a crisp chignon. Since this was her vintage being celebrated tonight, she had dressed for the limelight.

"You look very handsome," she said. Rob did look handsome. Unfortunately, he looked supremely uncomfortable, too, in the tailored suit they'd picked out for him when she realized he'd be here for the celebration.

"I still think my jeans and blazer would have done fine," he said.

"Pretend they are your jeans and blazer. Don't worry so much."

"I keep thinking I’m going to tear something. These pants don't fit right."

Morgan bit her lip to keep from laughing at the cowboy. Poor man. He was wrong, though; his pants fit fine.

She wrapped a silky shawl around her shoulders. "Come on, time to go."

* * * * *

Rob guessed the monkey suit had been a good call, after all, as he mingled among the throngs of society folks who'd come out to try Cassidy Wineries' newest vintage. He had a glass of the stuff in his hand and he had to admit it tasted mighty good. Especially paired with the appetizers uniformed waitstaff were passing around to the guests. He snagged another one off a passing tray – some kind of cracker topped with ingredients he could barely begin to guess at. A cheesy paste of some sort. He popped it whole into his mouth.

Now that was tasty.

The company left something to be desired, though. Everyone seemed to know everyone else, while he knew nobody. He'd exchanged a few stilted sentences with a man near the entrance, and a woman in the middle of the room, but after they found out he was a cowboy from Montana, the conversations stopped cold.

He ran a hand through his hair. Morgan had nixed his cowboy hat. Said it wasn't done to wear one inside at an event like this. He felt half-bald without it, and of course no one knew what he was since it wasn't sitting on his head. If he'd been able to wear it, people interested in cattle and ranching could spot it from anywhere in the room and make a bee-line to him. Everything would be easy, then. As it was, how was he supposed to figure out who liked to talk ranching, and who didn't?

What did all these city people do, anyway? He decided to find out.

A quick scan of the room showed him a young lady reaching for an appetizer. She didn't seem to belong to any of the knots of conversations around her. A few steps brought him to her side and he selected another tidbit from the same tray.

"Good, aren't they?" he said, remembering just in time not to speak with his mouth full. Dinners at the Matheson ranch could become something of a free for all. Best to mind his manners here.

"Yes, they are," the woman said.

"I'm Rob Matheson." He stuck out his hand.

She switched her wine glass to her left hand and shook with him. "Eva Lorimer."

"What do you do, Eva?" All around them, gowned women and suited men drank and talked and laughed. The noise level was definitely rising the more wine was consumed.

"I'm in data analysis."

Data analysis? "What does a data analyst do all day?"

She raised an eyebrow. With cheekbones like that she should have been a model. "Analyze data."

Hell. "Want to explain what that means?"

"It means I sift through a lot of numbers and other information looking for trends that will help my clients improve their products and services."

Ah. "In other words, you sit at a desk all day and stare at a computer." He made a face. "Tough break."

Eva frowned. "I love my job."

"That's because you've never ridden a horse."

"Excuse me?"

"All you city people – you have no idea what real work is supposed to look like. I feel sorry for you."

"Yeah, well I feel sorry for you, asshole." She turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Hmmm, that didn't go too well.

He scanned the large, crowded room again until he spotted Morgan's red dress. She looked as unhappy as Eva had a second ago. Duncan was holding her arm and talking intently into her ear. He figured he'd better go find out what the bastard was saying to make Morgan so upset.

By the time he made it through the crowd, however, Morgan was heading toward one of the exits and Duncan was climbing onto the temporary stage that had been set up at one end of the hall. The musicians, who'd been providing some rather boring background music, became quiet and Duncan adjusted the microphone at the front of the stage and addressed the crowd.

"Welcome, one and all, to Cassidy Wineries' unveiling of its latest vintage…"

Rob reached the exit right as the door closed behind Morgan. He pushed through it, and called out to her retreating back, "Morgan. Wait!"

She slowed but didn't turn around.

"Hold up! What happened? What did he say to you?" When he finally caught up to her, his gut tightened in anger when he saw the tears sliding silently down her cheeks. "What the hell did he do?"

"He's taking credit for the vintage. My name won't be paired with it in any way. I mean, it's not like my name was going to be on the label or anything, but this was supposed to be my moment of glory – the night I got to stand up and be proud of what I did."

"Why isn't he giving you credit?"

"Because…I said no to him." She tried to turn away but he held her firmly.

"No to what?"

"No to…being with him. No to being his wife."

That son-of-a-bitch. Rage made it difficult to speak. If he said something now he'd sound like he was yelling at her. He paced away and fought to regain control of his temper. "Dry your eyes. I'm going to take care of this."

"No. Rob, don't…," she said, following him.

"Remember when I asked you to respect me? When we said our vows?" He knew it wasn't entirely fair to throw that in her face right now, but he'd be damned if he stood by and let Duncan Cassidy ride roughshod over her. He'd worked in the fields here for three days now and he knew how the hands felt about the Cassidys. Elliot was strict. Duncan was a jerk.

Morgan paused, opened her mouth and then closed it again. She searched his face with her gaze. "Okay," she said finally, although he could see that was an effort. "You said you'd think through your decisions. I'm trusting you to do that. What are you going to do?"

He nodded. "You'll see. Be back inside and ready in about thirty seconds, okay? Remember to smile. The bastards hate it when you smile." He strode back to the door and let himself in just in time to see Duncan grinning and preening in front of the crowd. Rob climbed the two steps to the stage, crossed it and stood side by side with the man, leaning in to the mic like he was part of the show and had something to add.

"Howdy folks, everyone having a good time tonight?" There was a ripple of amusement and surprise through the crowd at this unexpected interruption, but a smattering of applause and one good natured call back, as well. "I said, everyone having a good time tonight?" Rob repeated, more loudly. He'd emcee'd a concert or two at the Dancing Boot in his time. He knew how to rouse a crowd.

"Yes!" Cheers and clapping thundered through the hall.

"What are you doing?" Duncan hissed, elbowing him away.

"What you should be doing," Rob said in a low voice, keeping a smile plastered on his face. He grabbed the mic with one hand and wrapped his other arm around Duncan, as if they were old buddies. He addressed the crowd. "As Duncan was saying, we're so glad you could join us and get a taste of Cassidy Wineries' latest vintage. But now it's time to meet the mastermind behind the wine. A beautiful young lady, and my fiancée…"

Duncan elbowed him again, and in one quick, practiced motion, Rob flipped up the tails of Duncan's coat, shoved his hand down the back of his pants and twisted his fist into the man's underwear. Yanking upwards as hard as he could, he gave Duncan the wedgie of the century. "Tell 'em, Mr. Cassidy. Who made this wonderful wine?"

Duncan let out a bray like a startled donkey, then managed to croak out, "Morgan Tate," in a voice several octaves higher than usual.

"You heard the man. Let's give a warm welcome to Morgan Tate!" He nodded toward the entrance, where Morgan stood uncertainly. "Come on, darling. Tell the crowd a little about your wine."

One hand still entwined in Duncan's underwear, an image sure to haunt him for days to come, Rob shoved Duncan away from the mic, towards the side of the stage. Morgan hesitantly took their place and began to speak.

"I came to Cassidy Wineries a decade ago, determined to learn everything there was to know about cultivating grapes and turning them into wine…" she began. As she went on, her voice became stronger and he saw the crowd becoming captivated by her story. Soon she had them on her side, as she detailed the journey she'd taken to rise through the ranks from a lowly position working in the tasting room to becoming manager of the distillery. "This summer I finally discovered the one place in the world where I belong," she said, with a glance and a smile toward Rob. "That's why this vintage is called Coming Home. I hope when you taste it, you'll be reminded of the complexity of the landscape and people that make up the one place in the world where you belong. Thank you." She dipped her head, and the crowd applauded her enthusiastically.

Rob released Duncan, but leaned in to say into his ear. "That's nothing compared to what I'll do if you ever turn her smile into a frown again. Got me?"

Duncan nodded and hurried from the stage. Rob hoped that was the last they'd see of him tonight.

"Ready to dance?" he asked Morgan when he slipped his arm through hers and led her to the parquet floor that was now filling with couples. The band struck up a waltz.

"Okay. But tell me – what did you say to Duncan? I can't believe he let me up on stage." She slid her arms around his neck and leaned comfortably against his chest.

Rob suppressed a chuckle. "I'll tell you all about it when we get home tonight."

CHAPTER NINE

"Ready for this?" Rob asked as they prepared to deplane at Chance Creek Regional Airport six days later.

Morgan took a deep, steadying breath. The past week had been a whirlwind and she felt like she hadn't had a chance to get a hold of herself since the night of the winery party. Rob had never quite explained what he'd done to make Duncan keep quiet when he'd called her up to the stage. She hadn't seen the man for the rest of the evening, and on Monday morning she'd dreaded going to work. When she arrived at her office, however, she found a note from Elliot stating that Duncan was out of town for the week, and the distillery would be under her supervision. The days had flown by, her first peaceful experience in years at her job, and at lunchtimes she'd joined Rob and the field hands for an alfresco meal, getting to know the men in a way she never had before. It still left her speechless that Rob had taken to viticulture so smoothly and seemed to have so much fun working with the other men.

They spent their evenings packing up Morgan's apartment, getting their stories straight, and tumbling into bed and fooling around – without crossing the line into making love.

To Morgan's surprise, Rob didn't push her to go all the way, and she was grateful. It wouldn't take much persuasion now to get her on board with the notion. It was all she could do to hold back. Now she was more excited than she could say to reach Chance Creek and start a new life – and build her own winery – but she was nervous, too. What would everyone make of their whirlwind courtship?

As they gathered their belongings and took their turn inching down the aisle of the plane, Morgan's palms became wet. It was one thing to talk wedding plans with Lisa over the phone. It was another thing to meet Rob's family as his fiancée face-to-face. Would they like her? Would his brothers and father be as welcoming as his mother?

At least she wouldn't have to face them right away. Ethan and Autumn had volunteered to pick them up at the airport.

Once they made it past security they stopped and scanned the small crowd gathered to welcome the passengers.

"I don't see them," she said, looking from face to face again.

"Must be running late."

Before she could reply, a man she didn't recognize hurried up to them, waving a slip of paper. "Rob Matheson?"

"Yeah," Rob said, eyeing him curiously.

"Phone message from Ethan Cruz." He stuck the piece of paper into Rob's hand and hurried away, toward the ticket counters.

"What the hell?" Rob opened it up and showed her the writing.

Sorry, buddy – can't make it. You'll have to take a taxi.

Ethan

"He can't even pick me up from the damned airport?" Rob had his phone out in a second, and punched in a number furiously.

Morgan's stomach sank. Ethan must really not approve of their engagement if he'd leave them stranded this way. Maybe he and Claire didn't want her here, after all.

"Ethan? Get your ass out here…"

"SURPRISE!"

Morgan jumped as people leapt out from behind kiosks and baggage carousels. Autumn, Ethan, Claire, Jamie, Rob's brothers, Rose Bellingham and Tracey Richards, an older couple she had to assume were Mr. and Mrs. Matheson.

"Did you really think I'd make you take a taxi?" Ethan said, pulling Rob into a man-hug.

"You have before," Rob said, looking half-pissed, half-relieved.

"For a practical joker, you're pretty damn gullible."

"Rob! Morgan!" Mrs. Matheson – Lisa – approached with open arms. Morgan found herself squished between her and Rob, being rocked back and forth in a stifling hug. "Let me look at you two. My bride and groom! Rob, you caught yourself a pretty one! Let me see the ring." She tugged Morgan's hand upward and exclaimed over the diamond and its beautiful setting. "We're going to have so much fun planning your wedding! We'll go to Ellie's Bridals tomorrow."

"Mom, give her a break; we just got here," Rob said.

"Son," Holt said. Morgan noticed he wasn't smiling. He shook Rob's hand as formally as if they'd never met before. "Congratulations. I look forward to your wedding day."

Was Morgan imagining things, or was there a veiled hint of a threat in that growled statement? Remembering the way Rob's conversation with him had gone when he had announced their engagement, she had a feeling Holt didn't expect them to last that long. Well, they'd last all right.

They would last a lifetime.

* * * * *

"Rob, put your luggage in your father's truck," Autumn said. "Then you'll ride with us to our ranch for the wedding rehearsal. Dinner's at DelMonaco's tonight, then I'm stealing Morgan for a pre-wedding sleepover to keep Claire company before the big day!"

Rob acquiesced, although he didn't like the idea of sleeping apart from Morgan. Still, this was Jamie and Claire's wedding weekend and they got to call the shots. He'd spend tonight with his buddies, and give Jamie a proper send-off. After his father's greeting, he didn't feel like spending much time with family right now.

Still, it was good to be home, among the people he knew best. The wedding rehearsal and dinner afterwards was full of good-natured teasing and banter. After dinner, the men and women split up. Claire, Autumn, Morgan, Tracey and Rose all returned to the Cruz ranch. The men retired to the Dancing Boot for a final night of drunken carousing.

Or so Rob expected, before Jamie announced he had no intention of spending his wedding day with a violent hangover.

"Plenty of time to toss my cookies in front of my bride later," was how he put it. Instead, they decided to create the ultimate pool tournament, and Luthor Redgrave, the owner of the Boot, even chipped in an old bowling trophy to use as a prize.

They hogged the sole table for the entire evening, and while they didn't drink overly much alcohol, they still made the most noise of anyone in the bar. Rob rode home with Cab later in a satisfied frame of mine.

"You really going to marry Morgan?" Cab asked as they drove out of town toward the Matheson place.

"Yep."

"That's too bad." Cab peered through the darkness of the country road.

"Too bad? What do you mean?" Rob was taken aback by his friend's quiet pronouncement.

Cab tapped his thick fingers on the steering wheel, then seemed to come to a conclusion. He slowed down and pulled off of the road onto the dirt shoulder. This far out of town there were no streetlights, and the quiet of a Montana night settled over them as the engine died. Cab hesitated again. He always was deliberate about his actions. Rob grew impatient, but before he could open his mouth to hurry Cab along, the man began to speak.

"I did a little checking into Morgan. It seemed strange when she appeared out of the blue last month, and then when I heard you two were getting married…something didn't add up." His shrug was barely visible in the darkness. "Sometimes I get a hunch, you know?"

Rob did know. "What'd you find out?" he asked reluctantly, his good mood evaporating. Once again he realized how much he was counting on this marriage – both for the prize of the land, and to be with Morgan.

"I don't know exactly how to say this, so I'm going to just say it, okay?"

Rob steeled himself. That didn't sound good. Although what Cab could possibly have found out about Morgan he couldn't guess. From everything he'd seen she was hardworking, quiet and kept to herself. What kind of trouble could she possibly have gotten into?

"She's implicated in an international diamond smuggling operation. I figure she's using this marriage to make it even easier for her to travel between the United States and Canada. A married woman can pretty much fly under any radar, know what I mean? She'll have a husband in the US, and family back in Victoria. Who would think to question her movements?"

His statement blindsided Rob. Diamond smuggling? That was so far from anything he'd guessed, he couldn't even form words into a sentence. "I…how…she what?" he finally managed to choke out.

Cab's laughter roared through the small interior of the truck. "Got you!" he gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. "I had you going good. You should have seen your face! Diamond smuggling? Morgan? Come on, man – how could you believe that for a minute?"

"She did appear from nowhere last month," Rob sputtered, trying to defend himself. "You have to admit it was pretty weird to find out Ethan and Claire had a sister we'd never heard about." Shit, he'd been had, twice in one day. His reputation was going to take a beating over this.

Relief flooded him, however, and he had to laugh at his own stupidity. Diamond smuggling.

"Yeah, I guess so," Cab said, his laughter subsiding into silent chuckles. "I did check her out, by the way. Clean as a whistle, as far as I can tell."

"Great." Rob tried to breathe normally again. He hoped no one else felt the need to get revenge for his past practical jokes any time soon, or he was going to have a heart attack.

CHAPTER TEN

"I'm shaking," Claire said as she checked her image in the full-length mirror again.

Morgan patted her arm. The beautiful bride was indeed shaking like a leaf. "You'll be fine."

"What if I'm not? What if I trip, or laugh when the minister's talking?"

"I was like this before my wedding," Autumn said, fluffing out Claire's veil. "The minute you walk down those stairs and out the door, you'll settle down."

"I think I’m going to be sick."

Claire did look pale, Morgan thought. Pale, but stunning. She'd surprised everyone when she showed them the dress she'd bought from Ellie's Bridals. Morgan had guessed Claire would choose a severe, unornamented sheath dress, to suit her sleek, black bob and no-nonsense fashion style. Instead, she bought a gown out of a fairy tale. Cream colored satin, a corset-boned bodice, long underskirt and an overlay of fabric pulled back into a generous bustle and train. With her imperial features and her dark hair swept back into a sophisticated updo, she could have stepped off the pages of a magazine.

"You won't be sick," Autumn said with authority. "What's nine times nine?"

"Eighty-one. Why are you asking…?"

"Six times eight."

"Forty-eight."

"Three times ten."

Claire started to laugh. "Multiplication tables? That's how you want me to conquer my nerves?"

"It works, doesn't it? It's how my Mom got me through getting shots when I was little."

Claire looked surprised. Morgan knew she was thinking of Teresa Leeds' cold personality.

"I know," Autumn sighed. "These days Mom would tell me to suck it up."

"She's pretty serious," Claire agreed.

"She didn't used to be. Anyway, you look beautiful, and the ceremony should start any minute. Let's get to the top of the stairs." She took one look at Claire's face and began to quiz her again. "Five times eleven."

"Fifty-five," Claire said as they left the room.

Morgan checked her own reflection one last time. As maid of honor, she'd need to get out there in a second. She and Autumn both wore light coral strapless bridesmaid dresses with flowing, floor length skirts and crisscrossed bodices. Plain, yet elegant enough to stand beside Claire.

"Morgan," Autumn called.

She hurried from the room and took her place at the beginning of the procession. They met Ethan at the bottom of the stairs, and he took Claire's arm. Since Claire's parents were both dead, Ethan would give her away. Rob was to be Jamie's best man, with Cab his second groomsman.

"Ready?" Ethan asked Claire. Morgan smiled to see the look that passed between her half-brother and sister.

"I think so."

"I'm really happy for you," Ethan said, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Claire blinked back tears, and Morgan's eyes were damp, too. How wonderful for Ethan and Claire that their marriages kept them close to home and among friends. And now she and Rob were trying to make a go of it, too.

As the processional music swelled, she stepped to the doorway and out onto the front lawn of the Big House. Their path was strewn with rose petals and as she made her way between the rows of chairs set up on the lawn for the guests, Morgan heard the gasp from the assembled friends and relatives that signified they'd caught sight of Claire for the first time.

"Oh, isn't she beautiful," she heard a woman say.

She wanted to be that beautiful at her wedding. If all went well she would be making her way down the aisle in about a month. Soon she would belong here as much as Autumn, Claire, Ethan and Rob did.

She hoped.

As she took her place near the altar, she met Rob's gaze and smiled. His answering look promised another night of passion ahead of them when they were finally alone again. She knew he had to be frustrated they still hadn't consummated their relationship, but they were intimate often, and they'd both expressed how much fun they would have on their wedding night.

Rob cocked an eyebrow and her face warmed. She hoped he hadn't somehow read her mind.

She had a feeling he had.

* * * * *

Rob knew he should be admiring the bride, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of Morgan. In her coral dress, she looked like a Grecian goddess, so feminine, so lovely. It was all he could do not to cross the aisle and take her into his arms.

He hoped he looked half as good in this damned suit. Twice in seven days he'd had to dress up. He hoped this wasn't a harbinger of things to come. A glance at Jamie told him his friend was dumbstruck by the vision his bride presented walking toward him. Good. That's what a wedding should be. That's what his would be like with Morgan.

Minus the suit.

He spotted his father in the crowd and looked away fast. He'd woken this morning to find Holt waiting for him in a chair on the front porch.

"You ready to get back to work?" were the first words out of his mouth.

Work? "Uh…not until after the wedding," Rob said.

"There're chores to do."

"I'm supposed to head right over to the Cruz ranch, help get everything set up. I need to square things away with Jamie, too. I'm his best man."

His father stood up. "Fine. Take another day off. But I expect your help with evening chores tonight, and first thing tomorrow you get right back to work like usual. You've already made your brothers shoulder your burden for far too long. I expect you to do your share. I'll post a list of chores in the barn."

A list?

Realization dawned over Rob and he'd rubbed a hand over his face, the bristles of his unshaven face scraping his skin. "Dad, I promised Morgan I'd help her start a business. I planned to spend the time between now and the wedding working a job to save up for that. I wasn't expecting to do chores here, as well."

"Ah, I see." Holt put his hands on his hips. "But you did expect room and board and laundry service, didn't you?"

"I expected my family would welcome me home," Rob said carefully.

"You expected a free ride, as usual. Well, you're not getting one. You want to live here, you'll work, too. Any extra jobs you want to take on can be in your own time."

"You all are going to have to get used to running the spread soon without me, anyhow," Rob said, annoyed.

"How do you figure that?" Holt loomed large, his ire up.

"Once I'm married and working my own land, I won't be working here anymore." Rob forced himself not to back down. They stood like two peacocks almost chest to chest. He was glad Morgan wasn't here to see this.

"I never said nothing about you shirking your obligations once I hand over that land. You'll still be a part of this family and this ranch. You'll help your brothers and that's final."

"Dad…"

Holt waved him away, and Rob expected he meant to storm off, but the steps of his porch seemed to give his father a little trouble. Holt leaned on the railing heavily as he made his way down, and while he stalked off, his pace was slower than usual. Rob bit back the angry words he'd meant to say.

When had his father gotten old?

It didn't matter; he knew what Holt was up to. He meant to keep Rob so busy he couldn't possibly earn enough money to give to Morgan before the wedding, let alone start his own business after they were married. He'd get his 200 acres, but they'd be worthless to him – he'd be right back in the same position he always was, working for his father, never his own man.

Normally he'd give his father hell for playing a trick like that. First he needed to figure out what was wrong with him.

Turning his attention back to the wedding unfolding in front of him, he watched Jamie and Claire exchange vows. He supposed he should have known his childhood friends would end up together, but the days when Claire used to try to boss them all around remained too clear in his head. Time was passing swiftly, and suddenly he understood why his father was in a hurry to see his sons married.

He wasn't going to live forever.

* * * * *

"I can't believe you're moving here permanently," Autumn said as she and Morgan sat at the bridal table watching Jamie and Claire dance their first dance together.

"I know. I'm so happy."

"I'm happy, too." Autumn smiled at her.

Morgan wanted to hug her for that. Ethan seemed genuinely thrilled that she was going to be their neighbor, but Claire had been a little quiet last night when they'd talked about it. Perhaps it was only wedding nerves, but Morgan had a feeling something was going on. She hoped Claire wouldn't see her as intruding into her family.

"Be careful around Claire," Autumn said, echoing her thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just…" Autumn twirled her fork as she searched for words. "She's been going on about your mother – about how things don't add up."

"The money," Morgan said glumly.

"And the time. Claire thinks you're downplaying how much time Aria spent with you."

"And how much money she spent on me," Morgan said.

"Well," Autumn looked thoughtful. "She does seem a little obsessed about money."

"I understand why. It must have been awful to find out the ranch was in debt after Aria and Alex died. I'd suspect me, too, I guess. But it's still depressing."

"Well, she'll get over it," Autumn said, doubtfully.

"No, she won't. But if she digs hard enough, maybe she'll find out the real answers."

Autumn speared a piece of chicken. "Does that idea scare you as much as it scares me?"

Morgan laughed. She already was coming to love her sister-in-law, especially her sense of humor. "It scares the crap out of me."

* * * * *

"You left us short-handed, you know," Ned said, shouldering up next to him as Rob waited for the bartender to hand him a bottle of beer.

"Had to get out of town for a little bit. I had a woman to propose to," Rob said. He was determined not to get into a fight with either his brothers or his father today.

"Yeah, you're pretty set on getting that free land. You even love Morgan, or did the two of you work out some kind of a bargain?"

"Watch it," Rob said, keeping his voice quiet.

"No, I don't think I will." A few wedding guests turned their way as Ned's voice rose. Rob wondered how many drinks he'd already had. Couldn't be too many. It was early yet. More likely Ned relished the chance to have a good argument. He liked arguing, especially with Rob. They always seemed to be in each other's way.

"If you haven't noticed, you're at a wedding," Rob said. "Show some respect."

"What do you know about respect?" Ned said. "When's the last time you ever showed any of your family any respect?"

"Hey, what's going on here?" Jake appeared out of the crowd and stepped between them. "This ain't no time for a fight."

"That's what I said."

Ned cast Rob a disparaging look. "Just telling him we missed him last week. Could've used the help."

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Rob beat him to the punch. He wanted to say something cutting and sarcastic, put Ned in his place, but Raoul and the other men in the fields of Cassidy Wineries popped into his mind. Their respect for their jobs. Their respect for how the work they did put food on the tables of their families, and added something good to the world. As much as he hated to admit it right now, his father and brothers did work like that, too, and he'd walked away from the job without a second thought. If Raoul or the other men pulled a trick like that, they wouldn't have a job to come back to. Far more than their pride was on the line every day. He'd been acting like a spoiled brat for years, and though it galled him to admit it, Ned was right.

He'd been thinking about his father all day, and when he'd gotten over his anger, he'd had to admit that Holt was right, too. He had expected his folks to put him up in his cabin while he worked for someone else to save up the money for Morgan, and why should they? He was a grown man, after all. The deal he had with them was that he worked in exchange for his room and board. He needed to figure out another way to go about all of this, starting with the way he answered Ned.

"I know you could have used help, and I'm sorry I left you in the lurch," he said.

Ned gaped at him. Jake's brow smoothed. "Well, I don't blame you for being in a rush to get hitched, under the circumstances."

"You don't mind I beat you to the punch?" Rob said. Hell, this was practically turning into a conversation. When was the last time he'd had one with his brothers? Usually it was all orders and snide remarks.

"I didn't say that," Jake tilted his hat back and scratched his forehead. "I thought about it, but I couldn't come up with anyone I wanted to get hitched to that bad."

Ned sneered. "Rob's not really getting hitched. He and Morgan have some kind of a deal."

"That right?" Jake straightened and looked Rob in the eye.

"No. That ain't right. We're getting married and staying married. There's just one thing."

"What's that?" Jake asked.

"I promised Morgan I'd help her start her business, so I need more cash. I gotta find a job, quick. Dad says I need to keep working the ranch, though – even after I'm married. How am I supposed to work full time for him and get another job, too? And what's the point of getting that land if I'm never there to work it?"

"See, he's slacking off again," Ned said to Jake, scowling. "He was going to go off and get some job and leave us in the lurch."

"Stow it," Jake told him. He turned back to Rob. "How much you need?"

"Twelve grand."

"In one month?" Jake's eyebrows rose.

Rob tried to shove his hands in his pockets and remembered he was wearing a suit. "Yeah. I know. It's hard enough without Dad acting like a slave driver."

"What kind of business does Morgan want to start?"

Looking from one brother to the other, Rob realized he was about to have a whole new problem on his hands. When his father had said he wouldn't meddle once he'd turned over the 200 acres, Rob had taken him at his word. Now he saw what a fool he'd been.

"A winery," he mumbled.

"A winery?" Ned repeated, loudly. "What the hell does that mean?"

Jake stared him, comprehension dawning. "You're going to turn that pasture-land into a vineyard? Are you crazy?"

"Not all of it. Just Morgan's half."

"You're going to grow grapes?" Ned said. More guests were turning their way.

"Shut up. We'll talk about it later. I'm going to open up a rodeo training school, too. Maybe I'll partner up with Jamie, raising horses. It's no big deal."

"That Matheson land has been used for raising cattle for over 100 years," Jake said, leaning forward to emphasize his point. "It's not meant for cultivation. You better change your mind about that winery right now."

"Dad's going to blow his stack," Ned said. He seemed pretty happy about the idea.

"You keep your mouths shut," Rob said. "This is Claire and Jamie's wedding. Don't you turn it into a family feud."

Jake pressed his lips together. "Fine. We'll keep it under wraps. For today. But tomorrow I'm letting Dad know your plans for that land. We'll see what he has to say about it."

"And he'll have plenty to say," Ned said.

* * * * *

"I haven't forgotten, you know," Claire said several hours later, when darkness had fallen and couples swayed to the music on the lawn lit by fairy lights and candles on the tables. The effect was beautiful, and Morgan was bursting with happiness that she wouldn't have to fly back to Canada when the weekend was over. This was her home now; right here in Chance Creek, the most beautiful place in the world.

"What do you mean?"

"About the dates my mother was with you in Canada. You promised you'd write them down."

Morgan had, reluctantly. She had a typed up list in her luggage at the Matheson ranch, the dates as close as she'd been able to reconstruct from memory.

"Do we really need to do this?" she asked, trying to keep the pain from her voice. Couldn't Claire accept her existence and work with her to build the friendship that was growing between them? Why did she have to pursue a line of questioning that may well bring them both more heartache?

"Yes. I'm sorry," Claire looked frustrated, "I know you don't agree with me, but I have to know what Aria was doing. I can't…rest until I know all her secrets."

"Do you really think we'll ever know them all?" Morgan asked. They were sitting in two of the folding chairs dropped off by the rental company this morning. Jamie had excused himself for a moment. Apparently Claire had been waiting for the opportunity to confront her.

"Maybe not, but I have to try. There are dates she was missing and money that's still gone. I need to know where it went." She glanced sideways at Morgan. "And if you know anything you're not telling me – even if it's something you think I won't want to hear – please tell me now. I'm going to keep digging until I find out, anyway."

Morgan frowned. "You think I'm holding something back?" Well, she was, wasn't she? She could have written down those dates weeks ago and sent them to her sister.

Claire looked at the hands clasped in her lap. "I don't want to think that, but I've barely known you a month. You came out of nowhere and you're one of the secrets my mother kept." Her voice wobbled a little, but then she steadied it again. "My mother is on my mind all the time these days. She should be here, you know? But since she isn't, I want to know everything I can about her – about what she was up to before she died."

She lifted a pleading gaze to Morgan, and Morgan had to relent. "Okay, I'll do whatever I can to help. I'll drop the list by your house tomorrow, and when you come back from your honeymoon, we can work on the mystery together, okay?"

"Thanks." Claire reached out and hugged her. "I'm glad you're here."

Morgan hugged her back, but she couldn't help feeling a flicker of dread.

* * * * *

As the night's shadows deepened and the stars winked overhead, Rob decided he'd had enough socializing. All around him, couples swayed together on the lawn, or stole kisses from each other, and the whole atmosphere seemed charged with lust and possibilities.

He found Morgan chatting with Autumn, and made an excuse to separate her from her friend. Then he took her hand and led her toward the lane where his truck was parked.

"What are we doing? I don't want to miss it when Claire and Jamie leave," Morgan said, but she clung to his hand, a little unsteady from all the champagne he'd plied her with over the course of the evening.

"I want to show you something," he said.

"Now? In your truck?"

"We could walk, but driving is faster. And you said you wanted to be back in time to see the happy couple off." He nuzzled her neck and slipped a kiss behind her ear, then helped her into the passenger seat. Her long dress made her clumsy, and Rob took every opportunity to slide his hands over her body as he settled her in his seat. By the time he fastened her seatbelt and closed the door on her, his own body was thrumming with desire.

The ride out past Jamie and Claire's house only took a few minutes. Where the dirt track petered out, he parked the truck and went to help Morgan out again. She slid off the seat into his arms, and it was all he could do not to lean her against the truck and take her right then and there, but first he wanted to show her their land.

"You do realize I'm wearing high heels," she said a few minutes later as she wobbled over the range grass. He kept an arm firmly around her waist and made sure she didn't fall. The land sloped down to Chance Creek, the boundary between the Cruz and Matheson ranches. On the other side of the water was the 200 acres his father would give them. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Morgan said a few moments later when they'd negotiated their way down the slope. She giggled after nearly taking another spill. Bending down, she took off first one shoe, then the other and tossed them away.

"I want to show you our land."

Morgan held back, gazing at the creek. "We can't cross that; I'm wearing a bridesmaid's dress."

"It's shallow here," Rob said. "This is the shortcut Ethan and I used when we were kids to get to each other's houses. It took far too long to go around by the road. Trust me; you'll be fine." He took off his shoes and rolled up his pant legs.

"Oh, it's cold!" Morgan shrieked when she stepped in.

"Come on, city girl, you can handle it." He supported her carefully as they picked their way across the water, and then swung her into his arms as he climbed up the opposite bank. He strode up the hill on the other side and deposited her at the top. "See?"

Morgan looked around. "No, actually I don't. It's pretty dark."

"It's beautiful, trust me. People will be in awe when they come to the tasting room."

"Do you think there ever will be a tasting room?" Morgan asked wistfully. "It's hard to believe everything could work out so well."

"I guarantee you there will be a tasting room," he said, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her, cradling her head with his hand and taking the opportunity to hold every inch of her pressed against every inch of him. When he couldn't wait any longer, he released her, shrugged off his coat, lay it carefully on the ground, and began to unbutton his dress shirt.

"What are you doing?"

"As much as you'll let me," he said with a grin.

"Here?" She looked around them. "We can't…"

"Sure we can. No one will see us – they're all at the wedding. Let's consecrate this ground right now." He stripped the shirt off and tossed it aside, then got to work on his pants. "You going to join me, or stand there staring?" He could just make out the contours of her face in the dim light of the stars. She was smiling, but still unsure.

"I think I'll watch for now."

"For now," he agreed. He took his time unzipping his pants and stepping out of them. Then he stripped off his boxers and stood naked, except for his hat, to accept her inspection.

"I think I need to take a closer look," she said, and moved toward him.

Rob waited as patiently as he could, and was rewarded with a stroke of her hand over his shoulder, his chest and down to his waist. She followed this with a series of kisses, moving feather-light over his skin. Up to his chin, down his neck and chest, over to one nipple, then to the other. When she finally dipped lower, he stifled a groan and laced his fingers together behind his head to keep from taking her face in them and guiding her to where he wanted her to go.

She went there on her own, caressing him with her mouth, taking him deep inside and moving him in and out until he could barely breathe anymore. She knelt before him, her beautiful dress puddled around her like the petals of a flower. As she tended to him, love for her swelled until he thought his heart would burst.

As Morgan slid her hands around him, cupped his ass and drew him deeper, he had to steady himself by holding her shoulders. He allowed one hand to tangle in her thick, dark curls and she moaned as he gently guided her, taking more of him into her mouth.

When he was so close he could hardly stand it, he withdrew from her despite her protests. It was her turn now. He wanted her as ready as he was; he wanted them to go over the edge together.

He pulled her to her feet, turned her around and undid the fastenings of her dress. Sliding it off of her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him, slipping his hands under her bra to squeeze her breasts. Morgan moaned again and he tilted her forward to undo the clasp. She flung the bra away and pulled his hands back to cup her again, pressing against him as he played with her nipples.

To his delight, he realized she had been hiding a garter, sheer stockings and a thong under that dress. The garter straps framed her ass nicely and he decided she could keep that particular item of clothing on. The thong had to go, and he took care of it with a single, strong tug, then he pulled her back close, slid his hands to her thighs and ground her against him.

This time he was the one who moaned, although Morgan's breath hitched and he knew she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He wished he could make love to her the good old-fashioned way, but he was determined not to cross her boundaries. Sliding one hand down her body, he found her as lush and ready for him as he was for her. He half-led, half-nudged her over to an old fallen log, all that was left of an enormous pine that stood sentinel here when he was a child. Guiding her to bend forward, he placed her hands on the horizontal trunk, nudged her legs apart with his own, and crouched behind her, tipping back his head and tasting her delicious warmth.

Morgan expelled a rush of air that told him he'd done the right thing. He loved the look of her ass high above him, loved the taste of her on his tongue. His hands on her spread thighs, he felt her begin to quiver as he continued his ministrations.

When she was wet and gasping, he reached under her to take one breast in his hand, kneading it and pinching her nipple until she was whimpering above him. Still he kept up his sensual attack, so turned on by the taste of her he ached with wanting a more intimate touch.

"Rob," Morgan said, her voice ragged.

With one last caress, he stood up behind her, positioned himself between her legs and began to slide back and forth, letting his hardness caress her slick folds. She let out another breath as she realized he wasn't going to try to cross the boundary she'd set. He placed his hands on her hips and she moaned aloud as he slid between her thighs.

A moment later, she lifted one of her own hands between her legs and cradled the length of him against her, adding another layer of friction to what was already becoming unbearably sensual. He sped up, sliding against her core and her hand, becoming so hard he thought he couldn't hang on.

Reaching around again to cup her breast, he rolled her nipple between his fingertips. Morgan cried aloud and shuddered into her release, calling out again and again as he bucked against her, going over the edge with her.

When they were done, they collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs against the side of the fallen log. Rob pulled Morgan onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her softly.

After a moment, she laughed breathlessly.

"I keep thinking that when we finally make love we're going explode. I can't believe how good you feel."

"I'll gladly explode if it means I can make love to you." He kissed her again. "I'm bringing you back here on our wedding night, and I'm going to make love to you under the stars on this very ground."

"I can't wait," she said.

"Neither can I."

* * * * *

As they gathered their things and made their way back to the river, Morgan's legs were shaking and she had a feeling her biceps would be sore tomorrow from bracing herself against that log.

It was worth it, though. She'd never experienced anything like that before. Her desire for Rob seemed to be unquenchable. Only the feeling that she should be there when Claire and Jamie left for their honeymoon compelled her to hurry back to the wedding rather than stay here in the starlight with Rob.

Well, she'd have a lifetime of nights like this, wouldn't she? The thought made her smile. Rob wrapped an arm around her waist and hoisted her into his arms as they crossed back over the creek.

On the other side, they had quite a hunt to find the high-heeled slippers she'd tossed to the wind, but when they found them they made their way back up the hill to Rob's truck and climbed inside.

Morgan felt like a lifetime had passed since they'd pulled up on this hillside, instead of an hour. Something important had changed, and she struggled to define it, until in a flash it became clear:

She trusted Rob.

Not blindly, and not out of some foolish hope – but from her intimate experiences with him. Rob brought her to the highest heights, but he did so every time with the utmost respect for her, for her feelings and for her boundaries, as well. Many people who'd known her for years didn't respect her half so much, or spend nearly as much energy trying to bring her joy, for that matter.

As he climbed in the driver's seat and took her hand, she gripped it tightly. Eyes suddenly damp, she turned to him and hoped he could see the love shining there.

"I know," he said. "I feel it, too. We're supposed to be together, aren't we?" He leaned over and kissed her cheek softly.

Yes, she agreed with him silently. She thought they were.

* * * * *

"Over my dead body."

Rob tightened his hold on Morgan's waist and stared up at his father, a dark shape in the dim porch light. It was past two in the morning, and he and Morgan had said their good-byes to Ethan and Autumn after helping to do some preliminary cleanup as the wedding wound down. Claire and Jamie had left hours ago for a night at a hotel in town before they flew to Hawaii in the morning for their honeymoon. Holt must have been snoozing on one of the porch chairs, waiting for them. Damn Jake – couldn't he keep his mouth shut for one night?

No, damn Ned, Rob thought. Jake would have kept his mouth shut, but Ned wouldn't. He loved to make trouble; always had.

"Over your dead body, what, Dad?" He knew exactly what his father meant, but he wasn't going to make it easy on the old man.

"Over my dead body you're going to rip up this good rangeland and plant…grapes." Holt spit out the word.

Morgan stood stiffly beside Rob, and he could only imagine how she was feeling. "Dad, it's late, and my fiancée is tired…"

"Your fiancée has some nerve coming here thinking she can ruin this family's legacy," Holt boomed. Morgan jerked as if she'd been slapped and anger filled Rob until he could barely hold it in.

"You'll shut your trap and we'll work this out later, between the two of us," he said, tugging Morgan toward the stairs. "I'm putting Morgan to bed and then I'm coming back out to make sure you're gone. Don't even think about sticking around."

"You think you can talk to me that way?" Holt roared, taking a position at the top of the steps that would force them to push past him if they wanted to reach the front door.

"Rob?" Morgan's voice was thin with strain and he knew she'd be devastated by the way this was playing out.

"Damn it. Come on, Morgan," He grabbed her hand and pulled her back the way they'd come.

"Where are you going?" Holt hollered after them. "Get back here. I haven't had my say!"

Rob helped Morgan back into the passenger seat of his Chevy, and rounded the cab to climb in the other side.

"Where are we going?" Morgan asked him, her face white.

"Back to Ethan's. He'll put us up for the night, and tomorrow I'll talk some sense into my old man. Don't mind him; he's more bluster than bite." But he knew she was too smart to believe the lie. Hell, he was deep in it now. He had no idea how he was going to turn this around.

But he was going to turn it around. He was going to get Morgan that vineyard.

No matter what his father said.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"I wish you two could stay," Autumn said the following morning after breakfast. It was a rare morning off for her, since they hadn't booked guests for the weekend because of the wedding. As Jamie was gone for the remainder of the week, Rob was helping Ethan, and Morgan was in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher while Autumn put her feet up. "Jamie's old cabin is empty. You could take it. It's traditionally been for the ranch's horse trainer, but now that Jamie and Claire have built their house, no one's living there."

"Thanks, but we have to patch things up with Rob's family."

"Well, if that doesn't work out, you can hold your wedding here. We've done two so far this summer, I'm sure we can handle another one. I'm beginning to feel like a pro." She began to get up, but Morgan waved her down again.

"Rest. How are you feeling?'

Autumn dropped a hand to her still-flat belly. "Pretty good, actually. My morning sickness finally stopped, so I feel almost human. I'm really hungry these days and I've got this urge to clean everything. If you weren't here, I'd probably be sorting out the attic. I peeked up there last week and it looks like no one's touched a thing in ages."

"No shifting boxes around for you. You take it easy while you still can. You'll have enough to do when the baby gets here. I can't believe you're starting this business while you're pregnant."

"What about you? You'll be starting a winery. Are you and Rob going to put off having kids?"

The question brought a surge of heat through her body at the thought of making love to Rob, then a cold wash of anxiety as she remembered what had happened last night. "We'd planned to get right to it, actually, since a certain someone scared me to death with her stories about women waiting too long. All I can think about since you told me about your Mom's patients is having my kids as soon as humanly possible."

Autumn laughed. "Sorry. Mom talks about it so much I guess I blurt it out these days. I'm glad to hear you're not waiting, though. I want our kids to be able to play together."

"I hope it works out that way," Morgan said.

Autumn grew serious. "Tell me what you and Rob are going to do about Holt. What if he doesn't give you the land, after all?"

"We'll still get married," Morgan said. Rob had covered her with kisses last night when they'd finally settled in the spare room at Ethan's bunkhouse, and promised her he'd get her a vineyard no matter what it took. She'd tried to tell him it didn't matter, but secretly she was relieved he was so adamant about it. It did matter to her, and without Holt's gift of the land it was going to be nearly impossible to get one started. "Rob said he'll talk to his mother and get her to make Holt hold up his end of the bargain, but then what?" She appealed to Autumn. "It'll be awful living there if Holt and Rob's brothers hate us. I wanted to come here to be with family, not to be fighting with them."

"I'm sure things will settle down," Autumn said.

"But it's my fault," Morgan said. "I'm the one who wants to grow grapes. Apparently that's not done around here."

"You said there were other wineries in Montana, so it must be done somewhere around here. It's just a new idea, and ranchers don't like new ideas. Give Holt some time to get used to it. I bet Lisa can sweet talk him around, and as for those brothers of his – they're just mad they didn't marry fast enough to get the land for themselves."

"You actually think there's a chance it will be okay?"

"I'm sure there is. Meanwhile, I've got a proposition for you."

* * * * *

"I don't know what I'm going to do," Rob said to Ethan as they rode out in Ethan's truck to check on the cattle. "The only reason Morgan and I jumped into everything so fast was to get that land. Don't get me wrong, I'm marrying her no matter what happens," he said when Ethan darted a look at him, "but she's got her heart set on that vineyard. She left her job for me. Hell, she left her country for me. I can't let her down. Besides," he kept his eyes on the road, unwilling to meet Ethan's gaze while making this confession, "I did a little work at the vineyard back in Victoria – the one where Morgan worked? And I liked it."

This time Ethan's eyebrows shot up. "Really? What kind of work?"

"Pruning the vines. You've got to get the balance right of foliage to grapes to get them to ripen efficiently. There's kind of an art to it."

"Huh." Ethan seemed nonplussed. "Never figured you for a farmer."

"Neither did I. But I wasn't making much of a rancher, either."

"You haven't seemed happy in a long time. Apart from the Morgan thing, I mean. I used to think you'd go on the rodeo circuit in a big way. Never seemed to happen, though."

Rob was relieved that Ethan understood. "I haven't been happy. Low man on the totem pole for too many years at my family's place, and never much cared for the work anyway. I just didn't know why. As for the rodeo, you're right – I probably should have made a real go at that. Maybe I'll try again before everything's said and done."

"Seems to me you and Morgan could be a great team building a winery together. You could tend the grapes and she could brew the wine. Have you talked to her about it?"

"Not yet. And now what's the point? We won't have any land, anyway. Hey – where are we going? You've got cattle over here?" He glanced out the window and realized Ethan had turned onto the same track he and Morgan had taken the previous night. Ethan drove past the acreage that now belonged to Claire and Jamie. Their brand new log cabin drew the eye, but Ethan kept on going.

"Nope. I want to show you something." He pulled to a halt at the end of the track just as Rob had the night before. When Ethan got out, Rob followed him, wondering what this was all about.

"Jamie's hundred acres end over there," Ethan pointed. "This area between here and the road, and down to the creek isn't being used. It's about 150 acres. You interested?"

"Interested?" Rob started forward. "What do you mean? What's the price?"

"What can you afford?"

"Aw, hell, Ethan, I'm not going to lean on you. I told you, I've only got eight grand in the bank."

"That'll do for a down payment. This land isn't making me any money, anyhow. You can work off the rest over time – I need some help. Claire was supposed to partner with Jamie to run the trail rides and activities for our guests, but she still wants to spend most of her time doing interior design projects. Carl's house alone is keeping her busy, and she told me yesterday a bunch of her old clients from when she worked at Ledstrom Designs have been calling her. I can only count on her part time, at best. Jamie can't do it all himself, and you were a whiz at entertaining the guests last month. What do you say? We'll draw up a contract and part of your payment," Ethan finger-quoted the air, "will go to your mortgage, and the rest you can keep."

"Shit, you'd do that for me?"

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather do business with. Come on – you, me and Jamie, all working together? Can't beat that! On the side, you and Jamie can build up that horse-breeding business if you like, and you can even teach rodeo skills to guests who are interested. Maybe run some classes for local kids, as well. It all fits together. Heck, even the winery fits in. We'll serve Morgan's wines at all our dinners, and our guests can tour the winery and go to her tasting room, too. Some of our more refined guests might prefer that to mucking out stalls."

Ethan looked pleased as punch, and Rob nodded his head. They could have a lot of good times if they all worked together. Then his stomach dipped. "Speaking of the vineyard, I still need that cash for Morgan. I wanted to have it by the wedding. I'll use my eight grand for a down payment on your land, and I'll do everything you need me to do here and more, but I've got to find something else, too – some other job that will pay me a lot of cash, fast. Twenty thousand dollars in the next month."

"Morgan will understand if it takes you a little longer to scrape up the money. She's going to be happy you found another way to get the land, right? I'll get Matt Underwood to draw up a contract tomorrow. As soon as Jamie's back, we'll get the papers signed."

"Yeah, you're right," Rob said, but as happy as he was about this turn of events, he'd made a promise to his fiancée, and he was determined to see it through.

* * * * *

"Hello! Hello? Yoo-hoo!"

Morgan rushed to the top of the Big House stairs to see who was barging through the front door. When Autumn had offered her a temporary job helping her cook and clean for the guests, she'd jumped at it.

"I know it's not as glamorous as running a winery," Autumn had said, "but I could really use the help. Tracey and Rose have been filling in for weeks, but they both have real jobs and they can't keep doing this. Eventually I'll hire someone permanently, but I can't really afford it yet. You won't get started with the winery for a while, right?"

"If ever," Morgan said gloomily.

"Think of this as something to fill the time, then," Autumn said. "Thankless hard work for slave wages. What could be better?"

"Well, when you put it that way, how can I resist?" Morgan said, laughing. "Sure, sign me up."

They worked it out that she would help Autumn daily from five in the morning to early afternoon. First they'd prep breakfast, serve it and clean up afterward. Then she and Autumn would do the rooms. They'd end the morning with lunch prep and cleanup.

It was late morning and she'd persuaded Autumn to go back to the bunk house and relax while she finished readying the bedrooms for guests. Several families were descending on the ranch this afternoon. She figured after all the excitement of the wedding, Autumn could use a break before the next round of chaos hit. Autumn and Ethan seemed to work almost every hour of the day and she had resolved to help as much as she could. Autumn wasn't paying her much, but since sleeping in the bunkhouse wouldn't cost her anything, at least she wouldn't be dipping into her savings to pay her daily expenses.

When she peered down the large staircase, she saw Lisa poking her head through the door. Uh oh, this could get ugly, she thought, but descended the stairs anyway. No matter what happened, she and Rob were getting married, and Lisa would be her mother-in-law.

"Oh, honey," Lisa said when she spotted her. "I'm so sorry my husband's being a royal pain in the ass."

Morgan blinked. That wasn't what she'd been expecting at all.

"These men," Lisa went on. "It's all pissing and marking their territory, I swear. With five of them around the place it sure gets ugly sometimes. Don't you fret about it. I'm working on Holt and we'll simmer all of this down and get your wedding off the ground. You hear? But if you don't mind, could we put off our trip to Ellie's Bridals until Wednesday? Turns out I need to go help out an old friend this morning."

"Um…okay," Morgan said. "I'm free after two. I'll be helping Autumn in the morning."

"That's sweet of you. Poor girl is working her fingers to the bone. In the meantime, I'll keep looking into flowers and catering and everything else. You leave it all up to me! I'll see you on Wednesday at the shop."

Morgan waved good-bye, wondering if there was any hope that Lisa could actually patch things up between Rob and his father. From what she'd seen, she doubted it, but Lisa had been married to Holt for over thirty years. She must know a thing or two about how to handle the man.

When Rob arrived back at the bunkhouse later that afternoon, she was eager to tell him about his mother's visit, but before she could, he swept her off her feet and into an embrace.

"It's settled. Ethan's selling us 150 acres of land and I'll work off the cost over time. I'll help out with the guest ranch business and teach rodeo riding to local kids and visitors. I'll also team up with Jamie on his horse-breeding business, and I'll get your vineyard up and running for you."

Morgan tried to keep up. "What land?"

"The parcel next to Jamie's! We'll live right here with the rest of our friends."

"Really?" Morgan lit up. "You think we can afford it? Where will we get the money to start the winery?"

"I'll earn it, I swear I will. I already told Ethan I need to take on extra work." He hugged her again, then slid his hands lower and gave her ass a squeeze. "It'll all work out, so don't worry about a thing."

"I got a job, too – helping Autumn – so we'll both be earning money."

Rob kissed her until she got weak in the knees. "The wedding is on," he said firmly when they split apart. "I asked Ethan and he said we'll hold it here if my Dad doesn't back down."

"Autumn said the same thing." She grinned. "But your mom stopped by and said she's working on Holt. She thinks he'll change his mind."

Rob shrugged. "Doesn't matter if he does, really. Our future is secure either way." He stopped and took her hands in his. "You know that, right, Morgan? I'm going to keep my promises to you, and make you my wife, whatever anyone throws at us. I'll make damn sure you have a winery to run, too."

Looking into his eyes, she could see he meant it. All the doubts she'd harbored slipped away and she stepped into his embrace again.

CHAPTER TWELVE

When Morgan made her way back to the bunkhouse the following afternoon, after spending most of the day helping Autumn with her guests, she was surprised to find Rob waiting for her.

"Come on – you and I have an errand to run."

"Now?"

"You have something better to do?"

"Let me grab my purse."

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the Chance Creek Pet Clinic, a small, neat building near the center of town. Morgan turned to Rob in surprise. "What are we doing here?"

"Visiting a friend of mine." He got out and came to open the door for her. She smiled at the gentlemanly gesture, and followed him to the entrance.

"It's closed," she said, pointing to the sign in the door.

"It's never closed," he said. "You'll see." He knocked and called out, "Bella? You in there?"

The door opened a moment later and a young woman appeared, her blonde hair piled atop her head in a mass of wild curls.

"Rob! I haven't seen you in ages," she said. "Come on in."

Morgan fought down a surge of jealousy at the pleased tone in her voice. She was pretty, curvy, and obviously happy to see Rob.

Rob gave Bella a quick hug and the ugly feeling grew. Had he brought her here to show her how attractive he was to other women? To give her a quick reminder that he had other options? The certainty she'd felt since his declarations last night began to slip away.

"How's your family?" Bella asked him.

Rob grimaced. "As ornery and controlling as ever. How's the business?"

Bella mirrored his expression. "Same as usual."

"In other words, you're still housing every stray animal for miles around?"

"Yeah." Her face fell, but then she brightened again. "You know, I think the number of strays is dropping. I haven't had as many brought in these past few weeks."

As she turned to adjust something on her counter, Rob rubbed a hand across his face. Morgan suspected he was trying to rub off the disbelieving smile that was lingering there. What was that all about?

"We've actually come to take one off your hands," was all he said.

Bella spun around. "Really?" Now her face was as bright as the sun with happiness. This woman really wore her feelings on her sleeve, Morgan thought. It made it hard to dislike her.

It got harder as Bella led them into the back of the clinic to an adjoining building that housed the animal shelter she also ran. It was the biggest facility Morgan had ever seen, with cages and cages of dogs and cats and a large exercise yard for them behind it all. Bella explained how local students volunteered and helped her exercise the animals and keep them acclimated to humans.

"How on earth do you feed them all?" Morgan asked.

Bella's face fell again. "It's hard," she admitted. "Somehow we manage."

"Well, you'll have to manage with one less animal," Rob said. "We're looking for a kitten."

"I've got kittens," Bella said. She led the way to one corner where indeed she had several mother cats with litters of kittens. "If you want to take one home today, these guys are your best bet." She took them past several cages in which the kittens were little more than piles of fluff huddled next to their mothers to one in which the kittens were noticeably older. They were alert, pouncing and playing. The mother cat was nowhere to be seen.

"These little guys are ten weeks. Ready for their own homes and families." Bella leaned over and opened the door. "What do you think?"

Five little gray faces turned toward them. Morgan melted at the sight of their big eyes and still-fluffy bodies. She'd never had a pet. Her grandparents wouldn't think of it, and her apartment building didn't allow them. "Can I hold one?"

"Of course." Bella beamed. "Put your hand in the door and see who comes looking. The best pets are the ones who pick you."

"Oh, it's not for me," Morgan said, but she did what she was told. A kitten with a white front paw scampered right over and nosed her fingers. She felt the rasp of its tiny tongue on her palm and shivered with delight. "It's so cute." When it climbed right into her hand, she pulled it out and cradled it to her chest, rubbing her chin over its soft fur. It licked her on the nose.

"That's it – she's chosen you," Bella said. "Now you have to take her."

"Who are you getting her for?" Morgan asked Rob.

"You, dummy. Who'd you think I was getting it for?"

Morgan lowered her hands. "But..."

"You're getting a pet," he insisted. "The minute I saw how you were living in Victoria, I promised myself I would get you one when I convinced you to move back here. People have to have pets. Anyway, we need a cat for the ranch. In fact, Ethan and Autumn don't have a cat yet, so we need two," he told Bella, then scanned the large room with all its cages. "Actually, make that five."

Bella beamed as she went off to find a cardboard box to carry them in.

"Five?" Morgan asked when she was gone.

"There's plenty of room for them," he said. "They'll keep the rat population down. I'll let Ethan and Autumn have a couple, keep one for Claire and Jamie, and we'll take the rest. "

"There are so many animals here," Morgan said, daunted by the noise of them in their pens.

"She doesn't put them down – the strays, I mean. Most shelters have a time limit before they get rid of unwanted animals. Bella doesn't. She's going to bankrupt herself if she keeps on like this."

"She said the population of strays has gone down, though."

Rob laughed. "Seriously? You believed that? Most likely people are taking pity on her and bringing the strays to her brother, instead. He's a livestock vet – he doesn't do pets, but he's a realist. He takes care of the problem."

"That's awful!"

His faced softened. "It is awful, honey, but it's life. Unneutered cats breed like bunnies. There's no way to keep up with them all. Bella would have to be a millionaire to take in every last one."

"I guess." Morgan hugged the kitten in her hands tighter. This one was safe, at least.

"What're you going to name her?"

"Button." She nuzzled the kitten again. "My little Button."

Rob rolled his eyes. "Gunsmoke would be better."

"Button's a darling name," Bella said, returning with the box. "Let's load them up and get you guys out of here. It's past dinner time, and I'm starving, and I've still got a lot to do."

"Are you looking for any more volunteers?" Morgan asked her.

"Are you kidding? How often can you come?"

"I’m not sure, but I'll try for once a week to start. I've never had pets," she confided to Bella.

"Then you need to make up for lost time, and this is certainly the place to do it," Bella said.

"Come on," Rob nudged her toward the door.

"I'm hungry, too," Morgan said as they returned to the car with their box of squirming, fluffy kittens. She looked back at the clinic, though, as Rob backed out of the parking lot and swung the truck toward home. It would be fun to go back and spend time with all of those animals.

"Let's pick up some cat food, grab some takeout, and get these critters home."

* * * * *

An hour later, Rob joined Ethan on the back porch of the bunkhouse to plan the following day's work, dropping one of the kittens into Ethan's lap.

"Here, I got you a present."

"Huh." Ethan lifted the kitten and rubbed its fur against his face. "Nice. I didn't even know I needed one of these."

"But you kinda do now, don't you?" Rob said.

"Matter of fact, I think I do." He nuzzled it again. "Gunsmoke. That's your name," he told the kitten.

Rob turned to him. "That's exactly what I said to Morgan. She didn't like it."

"Yeah? What did she name yours?"

"Button," Rob mumbled.

"Man, that's rough." Ethan chucked and settled the kitten in his lap, petting it while they talked over their plans.

Rob found it hard to concentrate, though. The question of how to earn the money he'd promised Morgan was preying on his mind.

"Rob?" Ethan asked him. Rob realized he'd missed something.

"Huh?"

"You're a million miles away. Something wrong?"

"I've really got to find some extra work. Not that I don't appreciate what you've done," he hastened to say when he caught Ethan's eye. "It's a far sight better to buy the land from you than to have my father looking over my shoulder and bossing me around the rest of my days. It's just, I don't want to start my life together with Morgan by breaking a promise."

"Yeah, I get it." Ethan stared out over the landscape. "You know where most business deals get done, don't you?"

Rob raised an eyebrow at him.

"The feed store, horse auctions, and the bar. Try Rafters. Someone might know something."

"You think?"

Ethan shrugged. "Worth a shot. Twenty thousand dollars is a hell of a lot of money, though. Might need to go to North Dakota and work on one of those oil wells."

Rob looked thoughtful. "I could look into that."

"Start closer to home," Ethan advised him, standing up, still cradling the kitten. "You'll want to get going now – before all the old geezers with money get too drunk to spend it."

* * * * *

"What are you doing?"

Morgan glanced up as Ethan entered the living room. She was sitting on the couch, notepad in hand, writing down every expense she could think of for starting the vineyard and winery. They were adding up fast. Four kittens were exploring the room, climbing the furniture and playing with the curtains.

She put the notepad down. "Talking myself out of starting a winery."

"Why? I think it's a fantastic idea. A few years from now it will be a great partner to the guest ranch business. You can take our guests on tours – get them out of our hair for a few hours – and we can serve your wines at dinner."

"That's more than a few years away. We have to purchase rootstock, grow the grapes, erect a distillery and tasting room, buy the machinery…and even once we bottle some wine, it still needs to age."

Ethan sat down next to her. "So, every step you take is one step closer to your goal."

"I barely know Rob." She hadn't meant to say that out loud, but now that she had, she pushed forward, voicing the doubts that had crept back into her mind. She pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and sighed. "What if he turns out to be a lousy business partner?" What if he's a lousy husband?

Ethan leaned back and stretched his arms out along the top of the couch. "I think Rob's underrated. His family's never given him any real responsibility and everyone else thinks he's a playboy."

Her stomach contracted with unease at this reminder of the number of women Rob had dated over the years. Back before she'd gotten interested in him, Autumn had told her all about his checkered past. "You don't?"

"No. He's just been bored. Rob's smart, and no one gives him credit for that, either. Back in school he got all B's and a few A's."

"So?" That wasn't too impressive. She'd gotten good grades, herself.

"So, Rob never studied. Never did the homework, even though he loved school. His brothers would pick on him if he did. You have to understand Holt Matheson's all about work. He always said school was for sissies. He worked those boys to the bone and praised them to the hills when they carried their own weight, but if they brought home a report card they'd be lucky if he looked at it, let alone complimented them on their grades."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah. Rob could've been an engineer, or something like that. He should have gone to college."

This was a side of Rob she'd never thought about. "He seems like every other cowboy."

Ethan laughed. "Ignorant and oafish?"

She elbowed him. "More interested in horses than books."

He shrugged. "Leave some books around. See what he does." He got up. "The way I see it, you promised to marry him and he promised you a winery. Everyone has second thoughts when they make big decisions. Don't let your cold feet stop you from getting what you want."

He retreated to the kitchen, leaving her to think over his words. Before she could think over it too much, the front door banged open, making her jump.

"Sorry, it's just me," Rob said, coming into the room.

Morgan's heart gave the little hitch it always did when she saw him. "Hey, come sit with me."

"Can't. I'm getting changed and heading out again."

"Where?" Morgan asked, glancing at her watch. It was past eight. Wasn't he ready to pack it in for the evening?

"I'm going to head downtown, check out the Dancing Boot and Rafters – see if anyone knows of a job that needs doing."

"I'll come, too," Morgan said, delighted at the prospect of putting aside her calculations for now.

"Sorry, honey. I'll take you out for a night on the town real soon," Rob promised her and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Tonight's going to be all business." He continued into the bedroom without waiting for her answer.

Morgan slumped down on the couch again. "All business at a bar?"

"A lot of business gets done at the bars around here," Ethan said, coming back into the living room. Rob reappeared, too, in a clean shirt.

"Don't wait up."

"Good luck," Morgan said as he headed for the door. A kitten struggled onto her lap and she petted it distractedly as Ethan sat on the other end of the couch and clicked on the television.

"Thanks. I'll need it."

* * * * *

The Dancing Boot was nearly dead on this weekday night, so Rob made his way over to Rafters, where the older cowboys and ranchers tended to congregate – men who wanted to sit and ruminate over past days or the price of cattle feed, rather than listen to music, or chase pretty girls. A quick scan of the bar from the doorway told him his father wasn't here. He didn't expect he would be – Holt saved his tame version of carousing for Friday and Saturday nights – but if he was, he'd turn around and go home.

Instead there were a handful of familiar faces, a couple he didn't know, and Carl Whitfield alone at a table in the corner.

Rob frowned. At least the man wasn't trying to buddy up with anyone, regaling them with how much money he made, like he had when he first arrived in town. Carl seemed different these days. A little more subdued. Rob stifled a chuckle. He guessed Lacey Taylor could do that to a man.

Lacey had dated Ethan for years, all through high school and beyond, and everyone assumed they were as good as married. When Lacey found out Ethan was having money problems after his parents died, however, she took off like a shot and left Ethan eating dirt. Pretty soon she hooked her carriage to Carl – self-made millionaire and wanna-be cowboy. People around here didn't like him much, since he bought his ranch for a song from a couple whose dreams had disappeared with their savings during the last recession. He hadn't thought the fellow would last long.

But here he was.

And of all the folks in the room, Carl was the one with money to spend. Rob tipped his hat to the men he knew as he walked by and made his way over to him.

"Can I join you?"

The man brightened. "Sure thing. What're you drinking?" He lifted a hand and signaled the waitress.

"Hi Rob," Trisha Bentley said, making her way over from the bar. "What'll you have?"

"Budweiser is fine," Rob said.

"Join me in a whiskey?" Carl offered.

"Not tonight – another time."

"Suit yourself. I'll have another one, honey."

"Coming right up," Trisha said and walked away.

"I haven't seen you here before," Carl said after a moment of awkward silence.

"Nah, I'm usually over at the Boot."

"I've decided to keep my distance from that establishment," Carl said. "I don't want Lacey to think I was out looking for women while she was away."

"Sounds wise," Rob said and draped an arm over the back of his chair. "I'm looking for work," he said, coming straight to the point. "Need some cash, so I'm trying to scare up some extra jobs I can do around my work for Ethan."

"You're working for Ethan? Figured you'd be helping your Dad on the Double-Bar-K," Carl said, playing with his glass.

"Not anymore. We've had a parting of ways. You know of anyone looking for extra helping hands?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I've got a job I could use a hand with myself. I figure Lacey's going to need something to do when she gets back. Something to keep her busy. I don't imagine she'll want to get a job…"

Not likely, Rob agreed.

"So I figure I'll set up a garden for her. A nice big one. Flowers. Vegetables. You know what I mean."

Rob couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. A garden? Carl thought Lacey was going to garden?

"Where you plan to put it?"

"Close to the house is best, I think. I figure an acre ought to do it."

Rob nearly spit out the mouthful of beer he'd just sipped. "An acre?" Did Carl have any idea how much work an acre garden would be to maintain? He'd be lucky if Lacey even deigned to walk in it. He opened his mouth to tell this to Carl, then shut it again. The man probably wanted the land cleared and tilled, flower and vegetable garden beds built, and then seeing how it was already fall, he'd probably want bulbs planted for next year and some annuals to pretty it up for now.

That was a lot of work.

"I'll do it," Rob said.

"Well, now, let's negotiate a price first," Carl said. "There's a deadline, too. October first."

Rob calculated fast. Carl was a wealthy man, but he probably didn't get that way by being a fool. How much could he get away with charging? Hell, only one way to find out.

"That's a rush job. I'll need twenty thousand dollars – that's only the labor, not the cost of supplies," he said and held his breath. Any other rancher would laugh his ass right out of the bar. Then probably hunt him down later and use him for target practice, for good measure.

"Well, that seems fair," Carl said.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It was dark out when Morgan gave up on waiting for Rob to return and went to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water before heading to bed. The kittens were curled up in a furry lump in one corner of the couch. Autumn and Ethan had turned in for the night long ago. The back door was open, letting a breeze waft into the kitchen. As she went to close it for the night, she heard footsteps crunch on the gravel outside, and a man-sized shadow appeared on the other side of the screen door. Morgan stifled a scream.

"Didn't mean to startle you," the man said. He looked familiar, but she couldn't place him at first. "You're Morgan, right?" The porch light behind him shadowed his face, and she fought the urge to turn and run.

"Yes, and you're…"

"Ned. Rob's brother."

She relaxed a little. "Is he okay?"

"Far as I know. I haven't seen him today."

She wondered what Ned could want at this time of night. "He's out right now."

"That's okay. I didn't come to see him. I came to see you. Why don't you come on out and have a seat." He indicated the swing.

She had a bad feeling about this, although she couldn't say why, exactly. Ned hadn't been along for the ride when Rob, Jake, Jamie and Ethan came to her rescue the night she and Claire went after Claire's stolen things, but she had no reason to think he wasn't as nice as the other Matheson boys. This situation, though, didn't feel nice and she'd learned to trust her instincts.

"I don't think I want to," she said, not moving.

"Fine. Have it your way – we'll do this standing up," Ned said, folding his arms across his chest. Claire glanced at the old-fashioned metal hook and eyelet that were the only way to lock the screen door, and wished they weren't hanging uselessly undone, but she had a feeling such a flimsy mechanism wouldn't stop this man if he was really determined to get inside, anyway. Ned leaned forward. "You're destroying my family, you know that?"

"In what way?"

"Rob's supposed to work our ranch with the rest of us. When Dad passes on, the four of us are supposed to work together to keep it all going. It's been the plan all along, until you came around and ruined it."

"You'll need to talk to Rob about that," she said, stepping back.

"You've got him too wrapped up around your little finger to listen. This whole plan of yours? Making him build a winery for your spoiled little ass? It's crazy – don't you realize that? Any money and time Rob invests in it will be pissing in the wind. Meanwhile, we've got work that isn't done. Not to mention that there's no way in hell we're letting you tear up good rangeland for a bunch of stupid grapes."

"Okay, for one thing – I'm not spoiled," Morgan said, anger overcoming her fear. "Not by a long shot. For another, we're not going to tear up any of your rangeland, so you can butt out of it. We don't need your stupid 200 acres. We've got our own."

That shut him up. He looked at her through the screen door for a long moment. "You'd better explain that."

"Rob's buying 150 acres from Ethan, so don't worry; you're precious ranch will stay in one piece and you don't have to worry about my spoiled little ass anymore, because I'm never setting foot on the Double-Bar-K again."

Ned didn't look pleased. "If you keep my brother away from his family, you'll be sorry. My father's been beside himself since Rob left last night. He's not young anymore. Rob knows that."

"Rob knows that your father is hell-bent on controlling every last thing he does. Your father's a bully."

Ned scowled. "At least my mother's not a whore. Dad told Rob to stay away from the likes of you – now he's probably getting the idea why. You'll drain all his money and energy, and then move on to the next man, right? Just like your mother." He spit on the porch.

Morgan lost her cool. She barged through the screen door, which slammed into Ned, knocking him off balance.

"Hell!"

Whipping the door closed behind her, she lowered her shoulder and charged him before he could recover. Catching him in the sternum, she rammed him over the edge of the porch. He grabbed for the post as he went down, caught it for an instant, lost his grip, and crashed in a heap in the garden bed below. It wasn't much of a fall and she knew he'd be on his feet in an instant; she needed to make the most of this momentary advantage.

She grabbed a nearby watering can and chucked it at him.

He batted it out of the air. "Dammit. What're you doing?"

"Giving you the beating your Momma should have a long time ago. You arrogant son-of-a-bitch, get out of here!" She picked up the next thing to hand – a garden clog – and threw it with all her might.

"Stop that!" Ned tried to jerk out of its path, but failed and it clipped him on the arm. "God dammit!" This time he made it to his feet. For an instant, he hesitated and she knew he was weighing his options – come after her again, or beat a retreat.

"What the hell is going on out here?" Ethan appeared in the kitchen door in a pair of pajama pants and nothing else. Morgan froze, a flower pot in hand. She'd forgotten about him.

"She's crazy! That's what's going on here," Ned said.

"Morgan?"

She tightened her grip on the pot. "I took exception to something he said. I thought he needed to learn some manners."

"You're the one who needs to learn some manners," Ned began but Ethan strode down the steps, collared him and marched him around the side of the house. In the sudden quiet, Morgan realized she was shaking, and she sat down on the steps before her legs gave way. A few moments later, Ethan returned.

"You okay?" he said, sitting down beside her.

"Not really. Rob's family hates me."

"Nah."

"Yeah." She turned to him. "They're furious Rob's not going to ranch with them. Ned called Mom a whore. He said I was breaking up their family."

"Huh." She watched him process this bit of information. "I'll sort him out about Mom later."

"I told him Rob's buying the land from you and we'll be living here. I thought it would settle him down since he didn't want us to till up his ranchland for the vineyard. But he went berserk. What's with him?"

"The Mathesons are a pretty tight-knit clan. Family is everything to them. Holt probably sent him over to try to persuade Rob to change his mind, but he's wasting his time. You can't keep someone on a ranch who doesn't want to be there."

"But if it weren't for me, Rob wouldn't have left in the first place."

"Maybe, but if he'd stayed, he'd be miserable. Sooner or later something would happen to make him leave. I'm glad he found a good reason to do so."

"Everyone thinks the winery is crazy," she said, remembering Ned's words.

"I don't," Ethan said. He put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him. "I know you two will make it a success. I think no one knows what Rob's capable of yet. Not even him."

She hoped he was right. But even after Rob got home and shared his good news about building a garden for Carl, it was a long time before she fell asleep.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The following evening, after a day spent helping Ethan escort his guests on a long trail ride around the ranch, complete with picnic lunch, Rob prepared to head over to Carl's spread to get started on Lacey's garden.

"So let me get this straight," Ethan said when they met by Rob's truck. "You're going to build a massive garden for my ex-fiancée? Whose side are you on?"

"Don't pretend you give a crap about Lacey anymore, now that you're married to Autumn. That's like worrying about losing track of a skunk when you've been given a thoroughbred race horse."

"I think I understand what you mean," Ethan said wryly, "though I've never exactly heard it put that way before."

"Anyway, I need the cash and Carl's being real generous on this deal."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"All right, then. Have at it," Ethan said.

When Rob arrived at Carl's, he found the man had staked out the plot he had in mind in back of the enormous log house he was building. Unfortunately, he could barely see the tops of the stakes over the shoulder-high brush that grew all over this part of the property.

"You got some tools with you?" Carl said, when he came to meet him.

"Yep," Rob said. He figured he'd hack down the big stuff and then subcontract out to one of the locals who owned an industrial-strength tiller to come plow the whole acre. "You got any plans for the layout of the garden?"

"Not really." Carl scratched his head.

"How about a photo from a magazine or something – to give me a basic idea."

"Okay. Lacey's always looking through things like that. I've probably got something in the house," Carl said. "I'll go on inside and look around. You get busy."

Forty-five minutes later, Rob was ready to give up. The brush was so thick and high it was about impossible to cut through by hand. He was wasting precious time and energy doing it like this. He needed to hire someone with a tractor and rotary mower to power through all of it. Then a tiller could come through.

It was too late to call around, so he headed back for his truck. Carl met him in the driveway.

"I got it," he said. He waved a piece of paper at him. When he got closer, Rob saw that it was a page torn from a magazine. In the failing light he couldn't make out much of it, so he turned on the cab light in his Chevy and examined it there.

"This is what you're after?" he asked after a moment.

"Yep – that's it exactly."

"You do realize it's September." The page showed an old-fashioned English garden with formal raised beds bursting with perennials in full bloom. There were perfectly clipped hedges, flagstone walkways, a fountain, statuary and a fence around the entire perimeter.

"I don't care what month it is. I'm paying you plenty – make it happen," Carl said.

"That fence alone will cost twenty thousand dollars."

"Fine. Make a list of the materials and costs, add on twenty thousand for your labor and show it to me tomorrow," Carl said. "We'll go from there."

What the hell had he gotten himself into? He'd never get this done in a single month. Should he confess that to Carl and negotiate a new time-table?

No, he needed that money before the wedding. Somehow, he'd have to perform a miracle.

"Will do."

* * * * *

Morgan couldn't believe she was actually driving voluntarily onto enemy territory. She inched along the long lane that led to the main buildings on the Double-Bar-K, following the directions Autumn had given her. She drove Ethan's Ford F-150, and desperately missed the Honda Civic she'd placed in storage with her furniture back in Victoria before she'd left for Montana. Lisa Matheson had called her mid-morning to remind her about their date to go dress shopping, and asked if she could swing by and get her since her own vehicle was acting up.

The last place on earth she wanted to be after her fight with Ned was pulling up in front of the Matheson house. An impressive two-story home with a wrap-around porch, it had a slightly more old-money feel to it than the Cruz ranch did. She didn't need to be told this ranch had been in Matheson hands for a long, long time.

The front door opened and Lisa peered out. "I'll be ready in a minute – come on in!"

Sighing, Morgan gathered her purse. She'd hoped she could pull up, load Lisa into the truck, and leave before anyone else saw them. She guessed that would be expecting a miracle. She exited the Ford, climbed the steps to the porch and hesitated in the doorway.

"Come on in," Lisa sang out again from somewhere farther into the house. "I need to find my purse."

Morgan walked into a wide entryway. A formal living room lay through a door to her left. The dining room was to her right. A staircase in front of her swept up to a second floor balcony with halls extending from either end of it that must lead to a number of bedrooms. Somewhere farther back on the first floor must lie a kitchen and perhaps a family room. It was an elegant home and Lisa had every right to be proud of it.

"Found it!" Lisa called, and came bustling back up the central hall, as the door opened behind Morgan and a masculine voice said, "What are you doing here?"

Morgan spun around. It was Rob's oldest brother, Jake, and behind him, Rob's father was entering the house.

"Jake, behave yourself," Lisa said. "Morgan and I are going dress shopping. Lunch is all set in the kitchen. I'll be back in time for dinner."

"Dress shopping? With her?" Holt said. He glared at Morgan and she wished she could sink into the floorboards. Why, oh why hadn't she put Lisa off on this fool's errand?

"You behave yourself, too, Holt Matheson," Lisa said. "You go ahead and grumble all you like when it's family, but when there's a guest in our house, you mind your manners."

Morgan looked at Lisa in surprise. Holt frowned. "This woman is stealing our son. I guess I'll growl at her if I want to."

"She's marrying our son, not stealing him," Lisa said.

"What's the difference? She's taking him away, ain't she? Buying Cruz land, for God's sake. What's wrong with our spread, I'd like to know that."

"He's buying Cruz land because you didn't want him to build a vineyard for me here," Morgan said. "He loves me and wants me to be happy. Did it ever occur to any of you that he could use your support?"

"Did it ever occur to you we need his help here with this ranch?" Holt snapped back.

"No," she stated firmly. "That hasn't occurred to me, because according to Rob, none of you have ever needed him to do anything except your own dirty work. You miss having your slave to order around, because that's all he's ever been to you."

"I've never treated him like a slave," Holt said.

She simply stared him down. Eventually, he glanced away.

"Rob knows what I want," he said gruffly. "My four boys working this ranch together. That's always been my dream."

"Have you ever asked Rob what his dreams are? Or have you been too busy telling him what to do to ever ask?"

"Who the hell do you think you are coming to my house and speaking to me that way?" Holt drew himself up to his full height and Morgan could see where his sons got their stature and self-confidence.

"I'm the woman who loves your son. And pretty soon I'll be his wife and the mother of your grandkids, so you better get used to me. I'm not going anywhere." She turned to Lisa. "I'm sorry, but I think we'd better shop another day." She'd already said too much, and she knew if she stood for a minute longer in the entryway of the Matheson house, she'd say something they'd all regret. She pushed past Holt and opened the door, hurrying down the steps back to Ethan's truck.

She managed to hold back her tears until she'd reached the end of the long dirt lane, but then they began to fall. As she moved to turn back toward the Cruz ranch, she hesitated. If she drove back there, someone would ask questions and she knew she couldn't talk about what had happened without losing her composure all together. Making up her mind, she turned left instead of right, and drove into town.

Ten minutes later she entered the Chance Creek Pet Clinic, her eyes dry but rimmed with red. She hoped Bella would be there, but instead a young blond woman whose nametag read Hannah sat at the front desk.

"Can I help you?" she asked cheerfully. Several people sat in the waiting room, dogs on leashes and cats in carriers.

"I…don't have an appointment," Morgan said. "I was wondering…if I could hang out with the shelter animals?" She trailed off, feeling foolish. Bella probably wouldn't want people to drop in unannounced. This was a veterinary office, not just a pound.

"Sure thing!" Hannah smiled broadly. "We love it when people come and give the pets some attention. The animals love it, too. Are you a dog person or a cat person?"

"I guess I could be either."

Hannah considered her, and Morgan had a feeling she could see the traces of tears on her face. "Let's start with cats today," she said kindly. She led the way through to the shelter and once again Morgan found herself in the feline area of the big building. "Our animals have the best chance for adoption if they're good with being handled and unafraid of humans. If you take the cats out of their cages, one at a time, and just pet and hold them for a little while, that's really great."

"What if they don't want to be held?"

"Don't push things if they put up a fuss," Hannah said. "Some of the cats are feral. We give them shots, spay or neuter them, then try to find farms where they can be barn cats. Take your lead from the animals." She turned to leave.

"What if one gets away from me?" Morgan said, beginning to panic a little at the thought of being alone among all these cages.

"As long as you keep the main doors shut, you'll be fine." Hannah assured her. "Just come back up front when you're done."

Left among the animals, Morgan didn't know where to start, but she approached the cage of an orange tabby and cautiously opened it. The cat, interested, came over to inspect her, sniffed her outstretched hand and consented to be picked up. Morgan sat down on the floor and held the purring cat in her lap, stroking her fur and allowing her to sniff her, in return. The cat seemed in no hurry to run away from her so after a moment she relaxed and was rewarded when it curled up in her lap.

After a few minutes, she reluctantly put the animal back in its cage and took another one out, repeating the process. This one was more wiggly and she wasn't able to pet it as long before it made an effort to get away. Once she safely had it back in its cage, she moved on to the next one.

Soon she realized she was moving methodically through the cages because she wanted time with each animal before she had to leave. She began to understand how Bella could become obsessed with saving them all. How could you choose which one to keep or let go? They were all so beautiful.

A few crouched in the back of their cages, hissing and spitting when she reached out to let them sniff her hand. Those she let be, but when she cuddled her tenth cat, a lovely black and white one who liked to nuzzle her under her chin, she had to laugh when she thought back to her confrontation with the Mathesons.

Who cared about Holt or Jake or Ned? These kitties didn't judge her because she was a Tate instead of a Matheson, or because she wanted a vineyard instead of cattle. They accepted her presence – reveled in it – without question.

Some humans could learn a thing or two from these fluffy balls of fur.

When she finally did leave, after cuddling every cat in the building that would let her near, she felt much better. Hannah smiled at her. "Are you hooked yet?"

"You bet. I still don't see how Bella can afford to feed all those animals, though."

"The bills are crazy," Hannah confided. "I've been working on some plans, though."

"Really? Anything I can do to help?"

Hannah brightened. "Do you mean that?"

"Sure." It was better than stewing about Holt.

"If you want to join me for lunch soon I could show you what I've got so far. I could use someone to bounce ideas off of."

"Sure. I'll call you later in the week." Morgan left the office much happier than she'd been when she arrived. Between the furry therapy she'd received from the cats, and the promise of a lunch date with Hannah, she thought she could take on Holt and all his sons.

Besides, she had made her first friend in Chance Creek unconnected to Rob or the Cruz ranch. In some small way, she'd sent down a thread of a root into the community she wanted so badly to join.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Right before dinner on Sunday, Rob parked in the lot at the Chance Creek Regional Airport and climbed out of his Chevy. He couldn’t believe only a little over a week had passed since he and Morgan landed here. So much had happened in the intervening days.

He was dog tired and he still had hours of work ahead of him at Carl's place tonight. He'd managed to get some equipment in and the acre plot was mowed and tilled within an inch of its life, but it had been much harder to find a mason. He had two kinds of rocks on order; rounded river rock for the perimeter fence, and flat shale for the raised beds. While the mason worked on the fence, he'd tackle those beds himself.

He'd done his best to lay out the garden's primary features in a pattern as similar as possible to the magazine photo Carl had given him. Carl himself had ordered the fountain, so tomorrow a contractor was to come in and lay the pipe. He'd also put in a sprinkler system throughout the garden. Rob would have to take an hour or two off of his day with Ethan to make sure the man understood the plans he'd dropped by his office.

Entering the airport, he waited for Jamie and Claire's flight to come in. He was excited to tell Jamie about moving onto the Cruz ranch, and looked forward to hashing out ways their business interests could line up. Morgan had lectured him about waiting at least until tomorrow to discuss that, however. She said Jamie and Claire would be too exhausted from their travels to talk business tonight.

He understood that. He was almost too tired, himself.

When the happy couple finally deplaned, they did look a little done in. Both were tanned, and they were holding hands, but Claire was quieter than usual.

"You two okay?" Rob asked, when they met up.

"Better now that we're off that plane," Jamie said.

"Three flights and I sat in front of a screaming baby twice," Claire said. "My head is pounding."

"Let's get you home," Rob said. He kept his mouth shut about all of his news, grateful for Morgan's advice now. This was definitely not the time to spring his plans on either of them. When they reached their new log home, he helped unload their luggage and prepared to take off.

"Any chance you could fill in for me again tomorrow morning?" Jamie said, leaning against his truck. "I want to make sure Claire's better before I get back to work."

"Sure thing."

"Great. I'll call Ethan and let him know."

"I can tell him myself," Rob said. "I'm heading back that way now."

"Really? Helping him with evening chores?"

"Nah – just popping home for dinner." When Jamie looked confused, he elaborated. "Morgan and I are staying in the spare room at the bunkhouse; until we buy some furniture and get moved in over at your old cabin."

"My cabin? Why aren't you on your own ranch?"

Rob realized he'd put his foot in it. "I was going to tell you tomorrow; you two looked too bushed to talk it over tonight. I'm buying 150 acres from you and Ethan. That's where Morgan and I are going to settle down. We'll put in her vineyard and eventually build a winery there. Meanwhile I'll help you and Ethan and maybe the two of us can team up on that horse-breeding business. In time, I want to offer rodeo riding lessons. It'll all play into the guest ranch business." He grinned, happy now that he'd had a chance to lay it out for Jamie, after all.

"Ethan agreed to all that without even asking me?" Jamie said slowly.

Rob stilled. "You got a problem with it?"

"I don't know. I…thought he and I were partners. That's a pretty big change of plans."

"Heck, I thought I'd get a better reception than this." Disappointment made his tone sharp.

"It's nothing personal. Shit, I just went on my honeymoon." Jamie ran a hand through hair that was already standing on end. "I go away for a week and Ethan decides all of this? I…I better talk to him tomorrow."

"You do that." Rob started the truck. "See you around."

Jamie stepped back from the vehicle and watched him drive away.

* * * * *

Morgan was beginning to doubt she really had a fiancé. If she woke up in the middle of the night, Rob was by her side, fast asleep, but she hardly saw him during the day. He was gone by the time she got up in the morning and didn't come home until after she'd gone to bed. She knew he'd taken on this garden project for Carl in order to raise the money he'd promised her to start her winery. She'd begun to regret ever asking for it, but without his contribution, she'd have to put that dream on hold for another year. Given the amount of time it took to get a vineyard up and running, she didn't feel like she had another year. They needed to get the land prepped this fall so they could plant the rootstock first thing next spring.

Rob had been distant last night when he popped in for a quick dinner before heading out to Carl's. He'd driven Jamie and Claire to their house and said they looked tired but good. She was looking forward to hearing all about their trip to Hawaii. She'd never been there, herself.

When she let herself into the Big House, she found Claire sipping a mug of tea in the kitchen, keeping Autumn company while she prepped breakfast. There was an uncomfortable silence when Morgan entered, as if the two of them had been discussing something they didn't want her to hear.

Morgan handed Claire a kitten. "Rob and I got this for you if you want it."

"Thanks," Claire said, but didn't meet Morgan's gaze. She took the kitten and held it carefully on her lap.

"I was telling Claire about how Ethan had to save Ned from you the other day," Autumn said.

Morgan looked from one to the other. Maybe they'd discussed that earlier, but judging by the tension in the room, something else had been the topic of conversation before she walked in.

"He was angry that Rob wouldn't go back to working on the Double-Bar-K. When he called Mom a whore, I decided to teach him a lesson."

"He called Mom a whore?" Claire set down her teacup, but Morgan didn't get the feeling she was mad at Ned. Instead, she had the distinct impression Claire was somehow blaming her.

"Like I said, he was angry."

"Well, I can understand that. People like to be consulted when plans change." She bent down and put the kitten on the floor where it began a tentative exploration of the large room.

Morgan narrowed her eyes. There it was again – that trace of hostility in Claire's voice. "Holt told Rob he couldn't use the land he was giving us for the vineyard. What did he expect Rob to do?"

"He probably didn't expect Rob to go run off and purchase 150 acres of our land behind our backs," Claire said.

Ah, there it was.

"That's what you think? That Rob was trying to do something sneaky?" She moved all the way into the kitchen and put her purse on the counter. "The way I heard it, Ethan offered the land to Rob. It doubt it even occurred to Rob to ask if Ethan had checked with Jamie first. After all, this is Ethan's ranch."

"Like Ethan had any choice but to offer it to him once Rob started bitching and moaning about how his father had done him wrong," Claire said. "Anyway, Jamie's supposed to be Ethan's partner. Ethan can't go around selling bits of the ranch to people on a whim."

"I don't think it was on a whim," Autumn put in, crossing her arms on the other side of the counter. "Ethan loves the idea of the three of them working together on this ranch, and he thought the three of us could have a good time supporting each other, too. I agreed with him."

From her tone, it was clear she didn't anymore.

Claire frowned. "Did Ethan consult you before offering the land to Rob?"

"No. He didn't have to; he knew I'd be all for Rob and Morgan sharing the ranch with us. And for the record, Jamie didn't run it by Ethan or me before he decided to marry you and make you part owner again."

"That's different." Claire's voice was rising. "Marrying into ownership and buying into it are two totally separate things."

Morgan struggled not to turn on her heel and walk right back out the door. This was too important to walk out on, though. Why was Claire so dead set on not sharing the ranch when six months ago all she wanted to do was leave it behind, herself?

"Ethan still has the majority share in the ranch," Autumn began cautiously.

"And he thinks he can use that to lord it over everyone and call all the shots?"

"Who am I lording what over?" Ethan walked into the kitchen. Claire snapped her mouth shut, color flooding her face.

"Claire feels you should have discussed things with Jamie before offering to sell Rob part of the ranch," Morgan said quietly.

"I'm not the only one who feels that way. So does Jamie – he's pissed, and I am, too," Claire said. "You need to consult us before you do things like that!"

"Whoa, hold on, Claire. A month or two ago, Jamie and I paid you $600,000 for your share of the ranch. Seems to me if you're going to start bossing me around, you can pay me back," Ethan said. He bent down and scooped up the kitten, who was now sniffing around one of the easy chairs.

Claire's face flushed even more. "That's not how it works," she said. "If you're so tight for money, ask her where all the cash Mom stole went!" She pointed at Morgan.

"Mom didn't steal…" Ethan said.

"Bullshit! We all keep pussy-footing around it, but she did, and that's why the ranch is in debt, which is why you have to keep selling pieces of it!"

"Morgan's already said she doesn't know where the money is!" He sat down heavily on the easy chair and put the kitten in his lap where it crouched, quivering.

"Then who does? Where the hell did it go?"

Morgan couldn't stand it anymore. "Stop it! Stop yelling! If Rob buying the acreage is going to cause this much trouble, then forget it – we'll go somewhere else! But since I work for Autumn, right now I'm going to stay here and help her with breakfast. Aren't you supposed to be fixing up Carl's mansion, Claire? Seems to me it's time for you to get to work, too. We certainly shouldn't be fighting while there are guests upstairs trying to sleep."

Claire opened her mouth, glanced at Ethan and seemed to change her mind about what she was going to say. "Fine, I'm out of here. But I notice you still haven't dropped off the list of dates Mom spent with you, like you said you would. I'd like that by the end of today, and I'm going to keep searching for that missing money."

"Whatever," Morgan said and joined Autumn behind the counter. Ethan stood up and handed Claire her kitten.

"Don't forget this."

Claire frowned at the animal, then snuggled it close to her chin as she walked out.

"Sorry about that," Ethan said to Morgan. "I don't know what's gotten into her. You think something happened between her and Jamie?"

Autumn shrugged and Morgan shook her head. "Whatever it is, I hope they work it out quick."

* * * * *

When Rob got in at two in the morning again, Morgan was waiting for him in the living room of the bunkhouse.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Everything." She got up and crossed the room to hug him, leaning against him when he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "We can't plant our vineyard here."

He pulled back. "Why the hell not?"

"Shhh – Ethan and Autumn are asleep. Because Claire's pissed that Ethan offered the land to you without asking her or Jamie. And she thinks I know what happened to all the money my mom blew and that I'm lying to cover it up. Which doesn't even make sense. If I had all that cash squirreled away somewhere I'd buy my own vineyard."

"Huh." Rob moved to sit on the couch. He looked much too tired, his jeans and shirt covered with dust, stubble darkening his face, and hollow circles under his eyes. "Jamie wasn't too happy when I mentioned it yesterday, either. I assumed if Ethan said it was all right that it would be. I didn't think about needing to give Jamie a say first." He ran a hand through his blond hair, mussing it up. "Well, I'm sure it'll all sort out. Claire's mad they weren't asked, that's all. That doesn't mean she'll refuse to sell to me if we ask nicely." He grinned a lopsided grin, and it was all Morgan could do not to join him on the couch and snuggle up on his lap for a kiss.

"Maybe, but what if she doesn't?"

"I'm pretty sure Ethan ultimately gets to call the shots."

"Yeah, but if Claire and Jamie don't want us here, we can't stay," Morgan said. "I couldn't stand that."

"I'm not letting Claire keep me from building a life with you," Rob said, leaning his elbows on his knees. "She better not try to stop us."

"It's not just Claire," Morgan said, sitting down next to him. "It's your father and brothers, too. Ned said that I was breaking up your family by forcing you to build me a winery."

"To hell with Ned," Rob said. "He likes to hear the sound of his own voice."

"Your father hates my guts. And they're right – you aren't speaking with any of them," she protested. "And it's all because of me."

"It's because they're pig-headed and they can't admit they're wrong. Now come to bed. Everything will look better in the morning." He stood up and tugged her across the room. "What did you say last night about missing me?"

She allowed Rob to lead her to the bedroom, and for a little while forgot their cares in his touch, but when they'd fooled around and he'd fallen asleep, she faced the fact that her presence in Chance Creek was tearing apart two families.

Maybe she'd been wrong to agree to marry Rob. Maybe this was what happened when you put the cart before the horse and agreed to marriage before you had a relationship. Had they been too thoughtless about the consequences of their actions when they'd pledged to spend their lives together? She had hoped that marrying Rob would bring her all the community she'd always craved. Instead, it was ripping both their families apart.

And what about what Rob had wanted? He was looking for a chance to be independent. She knew he'd thought their marriage would allow him to make something of his life – to become a success. Now he was slaving away for Ethan and Carl, little better than a hired hand. Maybe it was a step up from being his father's lackey, but he was working so hard to give her what she wanted that he wasn't making any progress toward his own goals.

Should she break off the engagement, return to Victoria and resume her old life, leaving Rob to patch things up with family and friends and weave his own way back into his community?

The thought made her throat ache with unshed tears.

She couldn't believe that Claire and Jamie had a problem with them moving onto the ranch. After all, Jamie and Rob were as much friends as Rob and Ethan were. From what she knew of Jamie, he was always one to offer help. And Claire's obsession was with Aria, not her. They'd had their differences in the beginning, but they'd also had some good times together. Did Claire really resent her coming to live here, or was it unfinished business with their mother she still needed to work out?

Morgan lay in bed, listening to Rob's quiet breathing beside her. One thing she was sure of; she didn't want to break off her engagement to this man. She had come to depend on his presence in her life and she loved their time together; especially when they were alone. She'd never met a man so interested in what interested her, and the way he was working to make her dreams come true left her speechless with gratitude.

No, she wouldn't let the Mathesons or the Cruzes break her and Rob apart.

Just when she'd decided to give up on sleep all together that night, an idea occurred to her. She wasn't prepared to let her marriage to Rob or the development of her winery destroy families and friendships that had held together over years. And she wasn't making any headway by trying to reason with everyone. She couldn't force them to like her, or want her vineyard on their properties.

But maybe she could show them exactly what they would be missing if she were gone.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Rob didn't think he'd ever had such a long day in his life. He hadn't had more than four hours of sleep for the past few nights, and Jamie blindsided him in the barn first thing this morning to tell him again how little he appreciated him going behind his back to make deals with Ethan. When he tried to explain the circumstances, Jamie accused Morgan of being hateful to Claire. He hadn't taken kindly to Rob's suggestion that his bride was to blame for all the drama around the Cruz spread these days.

Ethan had intervened then, ordering Rob to spend the morning mending tack and straightening the barn while he had a head-to-head with Jamie. As the hours crept by, the strongest feeling of deja-vu swept over him: wasn't this exactly the type of work he'd been trying to escape when he left home?

At lunchtime, he didn't feel like joining the rest of the crowd up at the Big House, so he only ducked into the kitchen, gave Morgan a peck on the cheek, and grabbed a ham sandwich off the pile she and Autumn had made.

"I'm going to eat on the run today," he said. Morgan only nodded. He left the house feeling even worse, but when he came back to the stable, Claire and Jamie were already there, talking in the shade of north wall.

"This isn't about Morgan and you know it," Jamie was saying. He leaned against the side of the stable. Claire paced in front of him.

"Yes it is."

"Baloney. It's about me wanting to start a family and you saying no."

Claire turned away from him and spotted Rob. "Damn it! Now you're eavesdropping?"

"Just trying to find a quiet place to eat," Rob said, holding up his sandwich. He backed up quickly, spun on his heel and hiked over to the bunkhouse before Claire could start another fight.

Why didn't Claire want to start a family? And what did it have to do with Morgan?

He couldn’t fathom it, but he resolved to talk to Morgan about it the first chance he got. Meanwhile, he relaxed some about the tension on the ranch. If Claire was angry at Jamie, rather than at him, things would eventually work out.

He hoped.

Still, when dinner time rolled around and his workday for Ethan was over, he looked forward to heading over to Carl's where things weren't so off-kilter. So when he arrived at the bunkhouse to gather his things and found Jake waiting for him on the front steps, his stomach sank.

"Whatever you've got to say, I don't want to hear it," he stated and tried to push past him. Jake stood up and blocked his way.

"You seriously going to let that girl break our family apart?"

"Morgan's not breaking anything apart. Dad's the one doing the destruction. And what do you care, anyway – I'd think the lot of you would be happy to see the last of me."

"How do you figure that?"

"Oh, come on," Rob said. "You've spent your whole lives trying to run me off the place. Picking at me, criticizing me, making sure I don't do anything meaningful over there."

Jake had the grace to look a little shamefaced. "That's Ned, mostly."

"Mostly," Rob echoed. "And Dad, and the rest of you."

"Dad set this whole thing up for you, you know that, don't you? That's how badly he wants you to stay on the ranch." Jake still wouldn't let him past.

"Set what whole thing up?"

"This…contest. The 200 acres. He told us point blank out in the barn after he announced it that it was meant for you – none of us were even supposed to try for it."

Rob blinked. "Why would he do that?"

Jake held his hands out wide. "Because he wants you to stay on the ranch. I just said that. He knew you were going to make a break for it."

Shaking his head, Rob turned around and stared out at the mountains in the distance. "Well, doesn't that beat all. I don't understand him. I don't understand any of you." He turned back. "If you want me to stay, why the hell do you try so hard to make me want to leave?"

"I'm not trying," Jake said. "I thought we got along all right."

"Until I try to do anything that's not your idea," Rob pointed out.

"Well, yeah. I guess so," Jake said. "Maybe I could work on that."

"Might as well not bother," Rob said gruffly. "Ned and Dad aren't going to change."

A funny look came over Jake's face. "I'm not so sure about Dad. He ain't been feeling so great lately. He's feeling his age. I think he wishes he'd done a few things differently."

"Dad's hated me my whole life," Rob said. "I doubt that's going to stop now. And I'm done trying to change his mind. I've got other people to worry about – like Morgan."

When he glanced Jake's way, however, his brother was staring at him open-mouthed. "Dad…hates you? You've got to be kidding me."

"What the hell are you on about now?" Rob said, bracing himself for a new round of cruelty. Jake was right – usually it was Ned sticking the blade in and twisting it in his guts, but Jake was no slouch when he was in the mind to get a dig in.

"You never heard him spouting off about his rodeo star son down at the bar?"

"When has he ever done that?" Rob stared at his brother in open derision. Heck, he hadn't even ridden much these past couple of years. Jake must be talking about ancient history.

"When doesn't he do that?" Jake scratched the back of his neck. "You're not at the right bar – you're always at the Dancing Boot."

He sure as heck wasn't going to hang around with a bunch of old fogies at Rafters, but he wasn't going to say that to Jake. "He's never even seen me ride. He always finds somewhere else to be when it's my turn."

"You don't get it, do you?" Jake said, leaning against the stair railing. "It's like you're totally blind. You're the damn baby of this family, Rob. You're the apple of Dad's eye. He didn't have time for the rest of us when we were young, but he was always hauling you around on top of his shoulders when he did his chores. I can remember when he taught you to ride. How damn proud he was of you. I wanted to knock you into next week. I'd been working on a trick to show him and he couldn't take his eyes off you long enough to see it."

"You're putting me on," Rob said, but his mind was busy dredging up old memories – a view of the stable-yard from way up high. Sitting on a horse that seemed as big as a Mack truck, his Daddy standing beside him, holding him steady. He hadn't thought about any of that in years.

"When you started riding in the rodeo, he had this little book he kept in his pocket. He wrote down the dates and your scores. Shit, Rob."

"How the hell could he do that if he wasn't even watching?" Rob said.

"He was watching, you just couldn't see him. He couldn't sit in the stands. He couldn't sit still. He was so scared you'd…I don't know. Fall, or get hurt, or lose, or be sad. He can't stand it when you're unhappy, don't you know that?"

"So he yells at me all damn day long? Tells me how stupid I am for caring about anything other than ranching?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing – it made no sense. Jake was making all this up, he knew it. He just didn't know why his brother would take the time to spin such stories.

"He's never called you stupid."

"He tried to make me stupid," Rob countered. "He ripped up my report card the first time I brought home A's. He wants me stupid, ignorant, and stuck in his shadow for the rest of my life."

Jake sighed. "Shit. I remember that. You know why he did that, don't you? Nah, you probably don't." He wiped a hand over his face. "Aw, heck, I never realized until you disappeared to Canada how much we've screwed things up – me and Ned and Luke."

"What do you mean?" Rob turned away again. This whole conversation was making him mighty uncomfortable. The past was the past, and the only reason it kept dragging into the present was because his father was trying so hard to keep him under his thumb.

"What a mess," Jake said. "Okay, you're going to hate me, but try to understand – you're the youngest. We didn't mean to keep secrets from you."

"Secrets?" Rob didn't like the sound of that at all.

"Yeah, secrets. Although I have to admit I'm surprised you never guessed."

"Guessed what?" Shit, was Jake going to tell him he was adopted? He tensed, not sure he could handle that.

"Dad can't read. Not much, anyway. You really never figured that out?"

"Wait, hold on a minute." That was the last thing he expected Jake to say. "What do you mean he can't read?"

"Why do you think he dropped out of school at fourteen? Why'd you think he hates books so much?"

"But…"

"Think about it," Jake said, and Rob did. To his surprise, a number of things fell swiftly into place.

"Mom does all the paperwork," he said.

"Bingo. Now you're catching on. That day he tore up your report card?" Jake laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "You kept shoving it in his face. Wanting him to read all the things your teachers wrote about you."

"Hell." That day had been the end of his career as a straight-A student. Once Holt was through bellowing about sissies and wastes of time, he'd sent Rob out to the stables to muck out every single stall himself.

Rob had learned that lesson well.

"Why the heck didn't anybody tell me?" he asked now.

Jake studied his feet. "Didn't think you could keep the secret, probably. No one but our family knows." He glanced up and caught Rob's eye. "No one can know."

Rob heard his unspoken message: this was a secret the Mathesons would take to their graves. If the rest of the town knew, they wouldn't be able to hold up their heads anymore.

"Why doesn't he learn how? Then there wouldn't have to be a secret." So many years of his life he'd blamed himself for his father's coldness. All because Holt couldn't read? No, there had to be more to it than that.

"From what I can figure out, he fooled his teachers for years this way and that, and no one figured it out until about the eighth grade. Then they sent him to some kind of specialist. The other kids gave him heck about it, though, until he quit school outright. So when Ned started having trouble, he refused to have anything to do with any doctors or interventions. He decided no kid of his was going to get teased."

I got teased, Rob wanted to say, but held his tongue. "Ned can't read, either?" Well, that made sense. Ned never was any good at school.

"Yep. Same problem as Dad. Gets his letters all turned around."

"They're dyslexic?" How the hell had he never known? "There's all kinds of things they do for that nowadays."

"Only if you admit you have it," Jake said. "And they won't admit it."

"So Dad protected Ned and left me hanging high and dry," Rob said. "Helluva thing to do."

"Dad knew you'd do fine," Jake countered. "And you have, haven't you? You've always been able to protect yourself one way or the other. Everybody's been scared to death of you since you reached junior high. Remember what you did to the guy who attacked Morgan? You're a fighter, Rob – with your fists and your jokes. Now you're engaged to Morgan, you've got two jobs, a parcel of land…hell, I'm envious."

"Envious?" But as Jake's words sunk in, he realized his brother was right. He'd nursed his childhood grudges for way too many years, but no one had actually hurt him since…since…well, grade school, now that he thought of it. Even Ned hadn't touched him since they were kids. He still nagged him all the time, needled him and generally behaved like an ass, but he couldn't remember the last time they actually fought.

No. That wasn't true. He did remember. It had been the usual scrap, out by the barn, over chores or something along those lines. They'd tussled and rolled in the dirt and he'd finally landed a punch on Ned's chin that snapped his brother's head back. Ned had scrambled to his feet, kicked him clumsily, and run away.

He'd run away.

And instead of acting like the victor, Rob had kept telling himself the same old story – that he could never beat his older brothers, that he'd always be picked on, that there wasn't anything he could ever do to win.

Glancing around him, he wanted to laugh at his own stupidity. Or bang his head against a wall, maybe. Why was he still acting like his father could force him to do things he didn't want to do? At any time in the last decade or more he could have left home, gotten a job and run his own life exactly the way he wanted to. Instead, he'd blamed everyone else for his dissatisfaction and didn't lift a finger to change.

"You're in a hell of a lot better situation than I am," he told Jake honestly. "You've always known you wanted to be a rancher and you work like a son-of-a-gun. I'm still figuring out what I want to do."

"Maybe so," Jake said, "but my life ain't perfect, either. There are things I'd like to try with the ranch that I can't because Dad vetoes them. Still, even if our family's not perfect, it's something. I hope you won't turn your back on us, and for what it's worth," he took a deep breath, "if you really think planting grapes would make you happier than running cattle, then I'm on your side. It's your 200 acres. You do what you want with them." He stuck out his hand.

Rob slowly reached out and took it. "You mean that? What about Ned and Luke?"

"I don't think Luke cares one way or the other. You're on your own when it comes to Ned. Maybe it's time the two of you sorted a few things out."

"There's no way Dad will agree to the vineyard, though, and I won't come back on any other terms," Rob said.

"I heard a rumor Claire might not let you have the vineyard over here, either."

"You let me worry about that."

"I will. I hope you work something out. You've always been better at gardening than ranching."

As Jake walked off, Rob lingered where he was. Hell, he thought he'd been hiding his true nature all this time. Turns out he wasn't fooling anyone.

But everyone else had been fooling him.

* * * * *

"Thanks for all your help," Autumn said. "I feel awful; you're supposed to be done after lunchtime."

It was nearly nine in the evening, but Morgan didn't mind. She enjoyed working with Autumn and she wanted to pitch in as much as she could while she was still here. Autumn really shouldn't be working so hard while she was pregnant. Besides, Rob was so busy nowadays, she hardly saw him. If she wasn't working, she'd be bored.

"Don't worry about it," Morgan said.

"I wish Claire wasn't being such a…"

"Bitch?"

"Something like that." Autumn sighed. "I don't think her problem is with you, though."

"Sure seems that way."

"Something's on her mind. I wish I knew what it was," Autumn said.

"Go get some rest and stop worrying about everyone." Morgan patted her arm. Autumn's frown seemed perpetually in place these days.

"I was thinking about taking a look up in that attic."

"Now?"

"It's a mess and I want everything perfect before the baby comes." Autumn flashed her a smile. "And yes, I know how insane I sound."

"You sound like a perfectly normal mom-to-be. But I'll point out that you have six more months to get the attic clean. Please rest tonight."

"I will. You, too. I'll see you first thing in the morning."

Morgan headed out the door with a smile on her face, but by the time she reached the bunkhouse she was frowning again. Autumn was right. It didn't make sense that Claire was so upset with her.

What was really bothering her?

* * * * *

Masonry by moonlight wasn't going to be the next big thing, Rob thought as he troweled on a layer of cement and fitted another stone in place. With Carl's help, he'd set up an array of lights run off an exterior extension cord. Still, his pace was hampered by the heavy shadows. At this rate he'd never get the garden done. Evenings were beginning to get cooler, too. It was late September. If he wanted a shot at beating Carl's deadline, he had to get these raised beds built in the next day or two.

It was close to three in the morning by the time he staggered home, so once he'd rinsed himself off under a hot shower and fumbled his way to the bedroom dressed in nothing but the towel around his waist, he was surprised to find Morgan still awake, reading by the light of a bedside lamp, several kittens tucked around her among the covers.

"Hey, you're finally home," she said, putting her book away and reaching for him.

He returned her hug and kiss. "Couldn't you sleep?"

"I wanted to talk to you. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too." They hadn't fooled around in days and now his body reminded him of that fact. She looked good – warm, lush and inviting. He tore off the towel and pitched it into the corner of the room

She watched him, eyes sparkling, but when he climbed onto the bed, she sat up straight and held him off. "We need to talk for a minute." She brushed her lips over his cheek, as if promising they'd do more than talk afterward. "We've got to do something about Claire and Jamie, and about your family, too."

"You think we should try to reason with them again?" He didn't see what else they could do.

"I was thinking more along the lines of a practical joke."

Rob's eyebrows shot up. "You serious?"

"I am." A wicked smile curved her lips. "I think it's time to get them all, good."

"Tell me about it." He couldn't wait any longer. He eased her down onto the mattress and covered her body with his own. Kissing her neck and then her jaw, then finally her mouth, he said. "Actually, hold that thought for a minute, would you?"

She let out a sigh as he traced his lips over her chin and down her neck, as he cupped one breast with his hand. "Okay," she said, and before he could even ask, she'd skimmed the shortie nightgown she wore up over her head and hurled it across the room to join his towel.

"That's more like it," Rob said. He took a moment to lift all the kittens off of the bed and deposit them on the floor. He would never grow tire of Morgan's body. Curvy in all the right places, he loved to touch her, taste her and tease her until she moaned beneath him in delight. He intended to do all three of those things right now, but he wished he could do more. He couldn't wait to make love to Morgan.

She seemed to be as much on fire for him as he was for her. She stroked his back, curving her palms over his ass, then traced her fingernails back up his skin.

Rob shivered and pulled her closer, lavishing his attentions of first one breast, then the other. He could spend all night right here…if he didn't have to get up in a couple of hours and start all over again.

With that thought in mind, he cut to the chase, wriggling lower and beginning to explore her center with his tongue.

Morgan arched and moaned, a sound that set him on fire. He wished…

"Rob," she breathed and tried to pull him back up closer to her.

"Honey, let me make you feel good," he said, and bent back to his delicious task.

"Rob." This time she tugged harder, her hands on his biceps. He sighed and inched back up to face her.

"What is it?" he said.

Her cheeks stained with color, a sight so beautiful it made his heart ache.

"I don't want to wait anymore to be with you. I want to make love to you tonight. Right now." She bit her lip, waiting for his answer.

His eyes narrowed. "You sure?" he said.

She nodded. "Definitely."

"What about waiting for our wedding?" he asked. Hell, he'd been ready to make love to her the day they'd met, but so much was screwed up right now, he didn't want to tip the balance against them. Women were funny sometimes. They got notions in their heads that were best to go along with. He didn't want Morgan to wake up disappointed tomorrow.

"I'm no virgin," she said. "And I know I'm going to be with you forever. I made up my mind the night you came to Victoria. You're the only man for me, Rob Matheson, and nothing's going to change that – not your family or mine. I've watched you these past few weeks doing everything you can to set up a life for us. No one's making it easy, but whatever they throw our way, you handle it and keep going. I respect you for that, so much. I know we can build something that will last." She searched his face and he figured she was wondering if he felt the same way.

He sure as hell did. "I don't care what any of them says. I’m marrying you and I’m staying married to you."

She took in a deep breath. "I think I love you."

Warmth surged into Rob's heart. He lowered his head to kiss her. "I know I love you."

"Show me," she whispered, and Rob nearly lost his grip right then. Slipping an arm behind her, he cupped her head and lifted it to meet her mouth with his. He kissed her long and hard, a possessive kiss, wanting her to feel the depth of his love for her right down to her toes. He didn't know when friendship, respect and desire for her had transformed into something deeper, but he did know he never wanted to let her go again. He would never accept circumstances that led to anything but their being together.

He ravished her again with his mouth, this time knowing that before they were done, he would possess all of her, body and soul. He took his time, exploring every inch of her, until Morgan twisted her hands in her hair and dragged him up to face her once more.

"I…can't…wait," she gasped out. "Now, Rob."

Gathering her close, he moved into position, wanting to stay here always, just on the verge of taking her, with the whole experience right in front of him. Morgan cried out in frustration and gripped him hard. Slipping her hands down to cup his ass once again, she tried to pull him inside her.

He held back only an instant, then slid into her, inch by agonizing inch.

Morgan moaned and he checked to make sure it was in pleasure. Yep, sure looked like it. She opened her eyes and glared at him. "What are you waiting for?"

He bent down and kissed her, then began to move. Slowly at first, he stroked in and out until Morgan clutched the bedclothes tightly in her fists. As he sped up, she opened her eyes again and met his gaze. The rise and fall of her breasts against him as moved within her set his skin on fire, but it was Morgan herself – seeing her watch him watch her – that nearly sent him over the edge.

She was getting close, judging by her ragged breathing. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she moved under him, matching him stroke for stroke. "Rob," she breathed, "Oh, God…"

When she cried out, he came with her, letting go all the passion he'd held in for so long. He barely stifled his own cries, only too conscious they weren't alone in the house. Someday soon they'd have their own place and he'd make love to Morgan for hours every night.

When they collapsed together, he found it hard not to start all over again. They had to get some sleep, though. Morgan had as early a morning ahead of her as he did.

"You are amazing," he whispered into her hair.

"You are amazing," she said. "I've never felt like that before."

"You ain't seen nothing yet." He moved to slide out of her, but she stopped him.

"Hold on, let me tell you my idea. I think you're going to like it," she said.

And as they lay together, entwined in the most intimate of ways, Rob listened to her plan and began to smile.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

At precisely twelve-thirty Sunday afternoon, two trucks pulled into the driveway of the Cruz ranch, and the Matheson family climbed out. Morgan, watching them from the front door of the Big House, wondered how often the two families had gotten together in the past. While the younger generation of Mathesons and Cruzes had grown up as friends, the parents seemed to have been something of rivals. Surely from time to time, however, they'd gotten together and shared a meal.

At any rate, they would do so today. Ethan had returned an hour ago from shuttling the latest group of guests to the airport and they had several hours before a new crop arrived. Morgan had timed her request for a family get-together to take advantage of this break in the action. She helped Autumn prepare a light lunch of sandwiches and salads, and hoped that everyone would stick around long enough to eat it.

"Mom, Dad, good to see you," Rob said, moving past her and stepping out onto the porch.

Holt grunted and Lisa hugged him. Jake, Luke and Ned filed up the front steps after them, and Rob ushered them all inside.

Jamie, Claire, Ethan and Autumn were already in the great room. The table was set and the food ready to serve. Morgan had long debated whether to speak before or after the meal. In the end, she and Rob had agreed to speak first. They both knew they couldn't sit through an entire lunch knowing what was to come.

"Have a seat," Rob said to his family, gesturing to the comfortable couches that ringed the living room area. When they did, he held out his hand to Morgan and pulled her to stand next to him in front of the enormous stone fireplace. "Morgan and I have some news for you."

"You're having a baby?" Lisa popped up again and the others in the room exchanged glances, but Rob quickly regained control of the situation.

"No, we're not having a baby. Not yet, anyhow." Lisa sat down, looking disappointed. "You all know we plan to get married in October, and we're grateful for the support we've received."

Morgan bit back a snort. Some support. Although, to be fair, Ethan and Autumn had stood by them the whole time, and Lisa was their number one fan.

"Our presence in Chance Creek, however, hasn't made things easy on the rest of you."

Autumn opened her mouth as if to contradict this, but Morgan caught her eye and gave her head a little shake. She relaxed when her sister-in-law sat back against the couch cushions, but Autumn didn't look happy about it.

"We've been doing a lot of thinking," Rob went on. "At first we hoped to start a winery and riding school on the Matheson acreage," he nodded at his father, who crossed his arms over his chest, "and when that didn't work out, we hoped we could do the same on the Cruz ranch." He caught the eye of Jamie and Claire. "We've learned our lesson. Our plans don't quite fit in the scheme of things at either place." He waited a beat. "That's why we're moving to California."

The room erupted into instant chaos. Lisa surged to her feet again, her eyes flashing with anger. Jake shouted at Rob, something about, "I told you why!" Jamie and Claire stared at each other in horror. Ethan's mouth hung open, and tears ran openly down Autumn's face. Morgan wanted to run to her, but she couldn't. Not if they were to play this thing out to its conclusion.

"Hold on, everyone. Let me finish what I was saying," Rob said. His face was strained, but his voice remained strong. "Morgan's received a job offer in Napa. She's leaving this afternoon to check it out. They've offered her a week-long trial run to see if it's a good fit. I've been in touch with a riding school in the same area that's looking for someone to teach rodeo skills. Morgan's job comes with onsite housing, which makes things easy. We'll make up our minds at the end of the week based on her experience whether or not it's a good fit. If it is, we'll pack up our stuff and make the move at the beginning of October. Now I hope you all will enjoy your lunch. I've got to get Morgan to the airport, then I'm heading over to Carl's." He squeezed Morgan's shoulders. "Once we move permanently to California, we plan to start our family, so we'll need all the cash we can get. As for the wedding," he turned his attention to his father. Holt, still as stone, stared back at him. "We don't want to put everyone out, so we've decided to make a layover in Vegas on our way out to our new digs. I've always wanted to get married in one of those Elvis chapels." He kissed her on the forehead.

When Rob released her, Morgan made a beeline for Autumn. Taking her sister-in-law into a warm hug, she said, "Don't be sad, I'll be back in a week. I've called Rose and Tracey – they've agreed to fill in for me." She squeezed her, hoping Autumn would somehow know their separation wouldn't be for good. This was why she didn't like practical jokes. Someone always got hurt.

But she hoped the end result would be worth it.

"I'm ready," she told Rob. "Let's go."

* * * * *

Rob was glad to see Morgan relax as they drove to the airport. When Autumn had started to cry, he thought she'd confess their deception right then and there. He knew her sister-in-law's reaction still upset her, but she was able to see the funny side of it all, too.

"Did you see the look on your mother's face when you said we'd get married in Vegas?" Morgan said.

"I thought my dad was going to keel over when I said we planned to have kids the minute we hit California. He's been angling for grandkids for years. Wants to bring them up on the ranch, like he did us."

"Autumn was pretty upset, though," Morgan said, sobering up again.

"I know. I wish she hadn't taken it so hard," Rob said. "I swore I'd never play another practical joke, and here we are pulling off the whopper of our lives."

"They deserve it," Morgan said. "Well, Ethan and Autumn don't. Neither does your Mom, but the rest of them do."

"Got that right."

"You going to be okay back there all by yourself? Think you can keep up appearances?"

"I'll be working like a dog. I won't have time to talk to anyone. How about you? You going to be okay out in California all by yourself?"

"Yep. I've never had this kind of vacation," Morgan said. "Thank God Tara Kramer still lives in the Bay Area, or this trip would cost a fortune. She said she's got her guest room ready for me, and she's dying to spend a day driving around Napa and tasting all the different wines. I only wish you could be there, too."

He felt a pang of loneliness even though they hadn't reached the airport yet. "Someone's got to build Carl's garden." He touched her thigh. "But I'll miss you, too."

Saying good-bye at the airport was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. Only two months ago, they'd played out this same scenario, her catching a flight to Victoria, leaving him behind. This time, though, they were engaged and he knew she'd be coming right back in seven days. It should have made it easier.

It didn't.

"You have to stay in character," she reminded him for the hundredth time. "Even when you think you're alone. If they know we're joking, none of this will work."

"I won't screw this up. I promise." He kissed her again. "Be good."

"Don't forget to feed the kittens."

"I won't."

"Love you."

"Love you, too." He could swear her eyes were shining with tears as she handed her tickets to the stewardess.

He couldn’t wait for this week to be over.

* * * * *

As Morgan hauled her suitcases to Tara's spare room, she wondered again if she was doing the right thing. She looked forward to reconnecting with her old university friend, but she also longed for some time alone to think about her future. Tara planned to take the next few days off, but she would have to go in to work Wednesday through Friday. Rather than fill every minute with sight-seeing, Morgan decided she would use that time to take a long hard look at her life.

She hoped her flight would bring Claire and Jamie to their senses and bring about a reconciliation between everyone she'd left behind at the Cruz ranch. She also hoped it would force the Mathesons to realize how much they'd miss Rob if he really left. She understood Holt's desire to keep his family together, but he had to give his son leeway to pursue his dreams, and he had to see that Rob was his own man now. She hoped he could.

Meanwhile, it was time for her to do some soul-searching of her own. If it didn't work out for them to build a winery on either the Matheson or Cruz ranches, then perhaps it was time to let that particular dream go.

She knew all the costs of starting such a business. She had taken into consideration the number of years it would take for the vines to grow to maturity, and the additional time it would take to create a vintage worth selling. She wasn't sure anymore if it was a dream that made sense.

What did she truly want in life?

A family. A community. A good job. Something extra to give back.

It was the day-to-day things in life – a hand held, a tear wiped away, a hug, a smile – that would fill her heart. Success at work was an additional bonus.

Wasn't it?

For one minute she thought she could make do without a winery of her own.

For one minute.

Then her ambition surged up again and showed her the truth; she'd be miserable if she couldn't pursue her dream. Please, she prayed to her family and her friends. Please find a way to come together again.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"You can't leave," Claire said, pacing the living room at the bunkhouse. In her elegant work clothes, she looked out of place in the homely room. Probably on her way to or from decorating Carl's new mansion, Rob thought. Jamie, in jeans, t-shirt and cowboy boots looked more at home as he sat on the couch.

"Why not? Isn't that exactly what you wanted? The minute you found out we'd be living here, you lit into Morgan like a pit bull."

Claire reared back, her black bob swinging. "I was pissed, but I didn't mean for this to happen."

"What the hell did you want?" Rob was exhausted, as usual, and Claire made a mighty fine target at the moment. He couldn't believe how much he missed Morgan, and she'd only been gone one day. Claire and Jamie had cornered him when he ducked in for some lunch, and now he couldn't shake them.

"I wanted…answers," she cried. "Dammit, how am I supposed to know how to be a good mother until I figure out what made Mom so bad?"

"Claire," Jamie reached for her. "You'll be a terrific mom."

"How do you know? Maybe poor parenting skills are inherited."

"What the hell does your mom have to do with anything?" Rob said.

Claire turned on her heel and strode out of the room, obviously on the verge of tears. Jamie watched her go, then dropped his head into his hands. "This is my fault," he said. "I want to start a family. I kept pushing on our honeymoon. I kept saying we should…" he waved a hand, "you know."

"Throw away Willy's hat?" Rob finished for him. He and Morgan had done that, and he couldn't wait to try it again.

"Yeah, something like that. Before we got married she was all for having kids, but once we went on the honeymoon, she kept saying she wanted to wait. I couldn't figure out why." He straightened up. "Autumn's already three months pregnant. If we went for it now, our kids would be in the same grade, you know? They'd grow up together. If we wait, they…won't."

Rob stared at him. Did Jamie think he'd be sympathetic about his marital problems when Claire had tried to run them off the ranch? Jamie must have seen his expression because he stood up. "I'm saying it so you'll understand why Claire's upset. She thinks that she'll be as bad a mother as Aria was. She's freaking out."

"So she takes it out on us?" Rob stood also. "I'm sick of playing the scapegoat."

"She's sorry she's been so awful," Jamie said. "I'm sorry, too. I got mad because Claire was mad, and because I want to belong to this ranch all the way. I want to be Ethan's partner, not his hired hand. Can't you understand that?"

Rob let out a long sigh. Sure, he could understand that. Both wanting to call the shots and feeling protective of the woman he loved. He shoved his hands into his pockets and headed for the door.

"You'll change your minds, won't you?" Jamie called after him.

They certainly wanted to, but Jamie was the one apologizing, not Claire, and it was Claire's apology that really mattered. "Look, between Claire and my father, it's too tense for us to settle down here. Morgan and I want a place to belong, too. We'll keep looking until we find it."

* * * * *

"Try this one," Tara said, holding out a glass filled with dark red liquid. Regardless of the sip and spit tradition in the tasting rooms they'd visited so far, Morgan was beginning to feel a comfortable buzz. Swirling the wine in her glass, she breathed in its bouquet of black currant and oak. Another wonderful California Cabernet Sauvignon.

"I'm glad you two came in. Mondays are slow," the man behind the counter said. He was in his late forties, with brown hair shot with grey, and a thickset frame.

"There's always work to do at a winery," Morgan said with a smile.

"Sounds like you know what you're talking about," the man said, cocking his head. "You in the business?"

"Yes. Well, I was. I mean…I'm going to be." She shook her head and tried again. "I just resigned as distillery manager at a Victoria winery. I'm trying to set up my own shop in Montana."

"Montana. Wow, you like a challenge, don't you?" He leaned an elbow on the counter and waved her and Tara onto the stools on the other side.

"I do," Morgan said, nodding and taking a seat. "But I'm running into some problems."

"Can I ask why Montana? There are plenty of wineries looking for help around here. I should know," he added wryly.

"That's where my family is," she said. "Of course, right now they don't seem to be too interested in my plans. That's why I'm here."

"You said you were a distillery manager? Because I happen to be in the market for one of those. I'm Ted Hennessey. I'm the owner here."

"Oh, my goodness. I thought you were a server," Morgan said, taken aback. "You probably thought I was angling for a job."

"I was hoping you were. I mean, if you turn out to be qualified," Ted said. "Want a tour? A real tour – not the watered down one we give to customers. I'll tell you more about the position."

Morgan turned to Tara. "Want to?"

"Sure."

Ted turned out to be the perfect host, answering all of Morgan's most detailed questions about the winery's operations. He plied them with more wines to taste; everything from his oldest vintages to his newest experiments. Morgan loved the way he listened to her opinions and seemed to give weight to the few suggestions she had to make. By the end of the tour she knew that working at Hennessey's would be nothing like her time with Elliot and Duncan.

Ted wrote down the salary he was offering on a slip of paper, folded it and handed it to her. "Take this home and think about it. If you're interested, give me a call. We'll work out all the details."

Morgan and Tara were giggling like a pair of schoolgirls by the time they reached Tara's car.

"Oh, my gosh, if you take the job I'll be able to see you all the time," Tara squealed. "You've got to take it."

Reality hit Morgan squarely in the gut as she climbed into Tara's Subaru. Sure, it was fun to entertain the idea of moving to California to work for a major winery whose owner thought you had something important to contribute, but she already missed Chance Creek and her family.

She missed Rob.

"How much did he offer you?"

Morgan opened the slip of paper and whistled. "A lot," she admitted. Much more than Elliot paid her.

"Won't you even consider it?" Tara asked.

"Of course I will," she said. "And it's nice to have an ace in my pocket if everyone back home doesn't come to their senses."

"Hmmph," Tara said. "In other words, don't hold my breath."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"Where are you going?" Ethan asked Rob that evening, when they ran into each other outside the Big House.

"Carl's." The last thing Rob wanted was a conversation. He was struggling to keep up his end of the charade. He'd played many a practical joke in his lifetime, but never one that ran for so long. He was so terrified of being caught out he could barely speak these days.

"You're still finishing that job? I thought…" Ethan trailed off.

"You thought I'd quit because we're leaving town?"

"Well, you were doing it to raise money for Morgan's winery, right?"

"I said I'd do the job, so I'm doing it. Doesn't matter why I took it on." Rob climbed into the truck, knowing it wasn't fair to judge Ethan for thinking he might quit in this circumstance. He had a long row to hoe before people took for granted that he was a hard worker, rather than a layabout. He'd made his bed and he was sleeping in it now.

"I'm really sorry about the way things turned out," Ethan said. "I believed in you. I still do."

Rob swallowed. Ethan had been the only one who'd stuck by him through this whole mess. He should say something in return, but somehow he couldn’t force out the words. He didn't want to lie to his friend more than he already had. Ethan turned toward the house.

"I hope you two will change your minds. No matter what Claire and Jamie say, there's always room for you and Morgan on this ranch."

"Thanks, man," Rob said, and started the truck before he spilled the beans.

* * * * *

Morgan clicked through the texts on her cell phone after dinner, dread building with each message. She'd refused to answer any of them since she'd left Montana. Let everyone stew in their own juices for a while.

Then she got to the latest one that Lisa had left, and against her better judgment, opened it to see the whole message.

I know you can't be as heartless as you're acting. You can't take my baby away to California, raise my grandkids so far away, and deprive me of the one chance I have to throw a wedding. Please change your mind!

She opened one of Claire's next.

I swear I'll never ask you about money again. I get it – you don't know where it went, and I should never have blamed you. When Jamie and I went on our honeymoon and talked about having kids right away, it all became too real and I got scared. I don't want to turn out like Mom did. Plz call!

There were several voice messages, too. When she brought up the first one, someone cleared his throat on the other end of the line. Then a gruff, masculine voice she didn't recognize at first said, "A winery's still the stupidest idea I ever heard, but I'll agree to it if that's what it takes to ransom my grandkids from that knee-jerk liberal excuse for a state. I don't want them to join the leftist commie legions trying to destroy this nation…" There was a scuffle and Lisa's voice in the background. "Don’t you talk to my daughter-in-law that way, Holt!" A dial-tone rang in her ear. Morgan didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

The next message was from Rob. "I miss you," he said, and her entire body cried out with the desire to be in his embrace. "I think our plan might be working. Hang in there, okay? You wouldn't believe how much progress I'm making on Carl's garden since I can't stand being at home without you there. I'll talk to you soon."

She couldn't stand being without him, either. Couldn’t wait to talk to him, and even more so, couldn't wait to share his bed. As much fun as she was having visiting Tara and exploring California, the week was crawling by. At the end of it, would the people she'd left behind be able to forge a better understanding?

Or was Napa Valley going to be her new home in truth? She dialed Rob's number.

* * * * *

"You what?" Rob leaned against a metal rake in Carl's garden, and held his phone up to his ear. He'd been smoothing down the pathways between his newly finished raised beds to prepare them for the paving stones. He'd figured it was safe to talk to Claire out here in the middle of the night. No one else was around, that was for sure.

"I got a job offer," Morgan said.

"I thought you were sightseeing out there."

"Yeah, well, one of the wineries we visited wants to hire me."

"You said no, didn't you?"

"I told them I'd think about it, actually."

He gazed around the empty garden in disbelief. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"Because I can't live there if everyone's going to hate me for following my dreams. I actually thought about giving it all up, did you know that? I came out here determined to talk myself out of wanting a winery, but you know what? I do want one, and I'm not ashamed of that. The way I figure it, I get one shot at this life. If I give everything up now, I'm going to resent that later, and that doesn't help anyone."

"What about me?" Rob said.

"I want to be with you," she said, her voice softening. "I haven't changed my mind about that. All I'm saying is that you and I have to come first in all of this. We can't put your father or my sister ahead of us. I will give everything I have to help you reach your dreams, too. Don't you know that?"

"Yeah, I know it," he said after a pause. "So, we're really going to do this? Head out to California and start all over if that's what it takes?"

"I don't want that any more than you do," Morgan said softly. "But now we know we can if we have to."

Headlights scraped Carl's driveway and Rob straightened up. "Someone's coming. I've got to go."

"Talk to you tomorrow," Morgan said and clicked off the line.

Rob shoved the phone in his pocket as a familiar truck pulled to a stop and his father climbed out. Reluctantly, he met Holt halfway.

"Dad."

"You ready to come to your senses yet?" Holt rasped.

Anger swept through him, and Rob fought to keep control. This was the man who was screwing everything up between him and the woman he loved. What right did Holt have to keep throwing a monkey wrench in their plans? He'd thought when he agreed to buy the land from Ethan instead of getting it from his father, he'd finally know peace and security. It fried him that his position was as precarious as it had ever been and his father kept trying to make it even worse. "No. I'm not. In fact, I'm ready to go stark, raving mad."

"What the hell does that mean?" Holt puffed up his chest in anger, but Rob suddenly realized they weren't seeing eye to eye. He was looking down at his father. What the heck was wrong with the man? Why was he all hunched up like that?

Probably a bid for sympathy, Rob decided. Well, forget it. He was done with sympathy or any other weak emotion that kept him from getting what he wanted.

"It means that I don't like your definition of sanity. You think you should get to keep calling the shots for the rest of my life. I think you've proved you're not capable of running the show."

"You think you are?" Holt said. "When have you ever run anything? Except your mouth."

For crying out loud. Rob waved to the garden they were standing next to. Sure, it wasn't anywhere near finished, but the walls were up and so were the permanent raised beds. The plumbing for the fountain was in and the pathways all laid out. Another week like this one and it would be beautiful. How could his father look at this and still belittle him? "When have I ever run anything? Take a look around you, Dad."

Holt did and sneered. "You're building a garden. Very nice. When you're done playing in the dirt like a little child, how about you join the men in your family at the ranch you stand to inherit? Or is that too hard for a sissy like you?"

"You really take the cake, old man," Rob said. "You're blind to everything except your precious ranch. You can't stand it that I'm making my own way, can you? You can't stand losing control of anything, because you're afraid if you do someone will figure out you're not half the man you pretend to be."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Holt said.

"I'm talking about the fact that you can't read, which means the truth is, Mom's the one running the Double-Bar-K. She does the paperwork, she orders the feed and pays the taxes. She types of bills of sale, and keeps track of breeding stock. She handles just about everything that makes money on this ranch. And you're not even man enough to fess up about it, let alone to admit that maybe one of your sons wants to do something different. Or is your real fear that if I follow my dreams I might prove myself to be smarter than you? Oh wait – I am smarter than you; I know how to read…"

Holt quivered with rage and his face in the moonlight was a mottled purple. "Don't you dare talk to me like that. I'll…"

"What, Dad? Whip me within an inch of my life? Or will you turn me over to Ned, so he can do it?"

"He never beat…"

"For God's sake," Rob snarled. "Sure he did. Or can you not read faces, either? How many black eyes did I have as a kid before I learned to beat him back?"

"So you learned to fight," Holt said. "What man doesn't? If you can't make your point with words, sometimes you have to do it with your fists. I didn't raise any pansies."

Rob stared at him in disbelief. "No, you didn't raise any pansies, Pop. But you know what? I've just realized I don't want you anywhere near my kids. Morgan was right. We'll be better off in California."

"Ah, go on with you," Holt rasped. "That's a lie and you know it. Don't you think I can spot one of your jokes a mile away? I've seen enough of them."

"Well, you've seen the last of them, Dad. It's no joke. Morgan's got a job, and I'm joining her in California the minute I finish working for Carl." He'd said these exact same words before as a joke, but this time he meant them. He was done with his father, done with Chance Creek, done with everyone who'd ever worked to hold him back.

Holt fixed him with an angry stare, but Rob met his gaze and let the truth of his words speak through his eyes. His father must have realized all the jokes were truly over, because a change came over him. He stiffened, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

Then he fell to his knees.

"Dad?" Rob bent forward as his father clapped a hand to his arm. His face contorted and he struggled to breathe. Rob dove to catch him before he went limp. "Dad!" All Holt's weight resting against him, he yanked the phone from his pocket and dialed 911. "Hello? Send an ambulance. My father's had a heart attack."

* * * * *

When Morgan couldn't ignore the vibration of her cell phone anymore, she asked Tara to pause the chick flick they were watching and picked it up.

"Oh, my God," she said as she read the frantic texts from Rob, Ethan, Autumn and Claire. "Rob's father is in the hospital. It looks like he had a heart attack."

The concern on Tara's face echoed her own. Morgan thought fast. "I'm going to call the airline and see if I can get a flight first thing tomorrow. I'm sorry, but I've got to go home."

Late the following day she found Rob in the waiting room of the Chance Creek hospital. He looked haggard, his clothes so rumpled, she wondered if he'd spent the night here.

"How's Holt doing?" she asked as she sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his back. She drank in his familiar scent and closed her eyes. They'd been apart much too long.

"He's in stable condition. It wasn't his heart after all; the doctors think he had some kind of panic attack. But it turns out my Dad found out about a month ago he needs open heart surgery. It's already scheduled for next week. He's got three blocked arteries and he never even told me."

She could see how much that hurt Rob. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Wait a minute," she thought fast. "He knew he needed open heart surgery before he offered 200 acres to the first one of you guys to get married? Do you think that's why he did it?"

"Yeah, I do. He's scared." She felt his muscles tighten under her hands. "He's trying to act like he's not, but I know him. I've never seen him like this before. A panic attack, for heaven's sake."

Morgan stroked his back. "He's going to be okay, Rob. You have to believe that."

Rob nodded, tension tightening his jaw. "Morgan, I’m sorry. I can't go to California. Not when my dad…"

"I don't want to go to California," Morgan said. "I want to live here, you know that. I just don't want everyone to be mad at me."

"Jamie's not mad at us anymore; he's been practically begging me to stay. Claire still wants to know what your mother did with all that money, but she knows you did nothing wrong." He sat back. "I learned something about my dad and Ned, too."

"Really? What?" She snuggled in by his side, her heart melting when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She touched his thigh. She liked the feel of his muscles; the strength of him.

"Neither of them can read. Can you credit that?"

She stilled. "That's why your Dad was so down on school and report cards?"

"A combination of fear I'd figure out what he was hiding, and that I'd show up Ned, who was hiding something, too."

"And that's why Ned picked on you so much."

Rob sighed. "I guess I'm supposed to forgive him for all that now, but I don't feel like it much."

"I don't blame you." She thought for a moment. "Maybe you don't have to forgive him so much as understand him a little better."

"Yeah." Rob grunted. "Guess I could do that."

Lisa appeared in the waiting room and her whole face brightened when she saw Morgan. "I'm so glad you came back, honey. You aren't taking that awful job in California, are you?" She crossed the room and hugged her tight.

"We were just talking about that," Morgan said.

"Well, why don't you both come in to see Holt and we'll talk about it together." Lisa tugged them both to a stand and led the way back down a maze of halls to a small, private room.

Morgan lagged behind Lisa and Rob when they entered the room, afraid to see the man who seemed to hate her so much. When they moved aside, and she got a glimpse of him, however, she was saddened to see him looking so frail beneath the bedclothes.

"You're back," he said, his gaze fixing on her.

Morgan stiffened, ready for another fight.

"Good," he said after a long pause. "California's no place to raise kids. Come here."

She advanced slowly until she was near enough to his bed for him to reach out and take her hand.

"I'm a stubborn old man who likes to get his way, but I know when I'm beat. My son wants to make a life with you, and in the end all I want is to see him happy. You think you can make him happy?"

"Dad," Rob said, moving closer. Holt waved him away.

"I'm sure going to try," Morgan said, taking Rob's hand with her free one.

"And you think you can grow grapes in Montana? Start this…winery business?"

"I think so. Others have done it."

"You'll put the Matheson name on it? None of this women's lib crap, keeping your own?"

"Holt!" Lisa warned. "She'll call it whatever she pleases."

"The Matheson name will go on the winery," Morgan promised with a smile. "It's a good name. Practically sells itself."

"You can have 300 acres near the river," Holt said, giving her hand a squeeze and letting it go. "In the northwest corner."

"You mean 200 acres, right, Dad?" Rob said, slipping an arm around Morgan's waist.

"I mean 300. I may be stuck in this hospital bed, but I haven't gone senile," Holt said. "Now get on with you. My program's on." He reached for the television remote as they turned to leave the room. "By the way," he added. He raised his voice and spoke distinctly. "Got you!"

Morgan stopped in her tracks. Rob spun around. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"That wasn't no panic attack," Holt said. "That's what's known in the business as damn good acting."

"Dad," Rob said. "Come on, we both know that was real."

"What, you're the only one who can play a joke in this family?"

Morgan put her hand on his arm before Rob argued any further. Holt was trying to save face, anyone could see that. She gave his sleeve a little tug. "You got us good, Dad," she said.

Holt stiffened, then turned toward her. "What'd you call me?"

Morgan couldn't find her voice. Had she put her foot it in it again? "Dad," she said again, unsteadily.

Holt stared at the wall behind her head, his jaw working. "I like that," he said, and nodded once.

She figured they'd better leave while they were ahead. "Rest up," she said.

"See you later, Dad," Rob said.

Out in the corridor, he pulled her into a tight hug. "You're a genius."

"Thanks."

"But that panic attack wasn't no practical joke."

CHAPTER TWENTY

When they returned to the bunkhouse, she let Rob take her suitcase and followed him up the steps. Being back on the Cruz ranch felt like coming home and she hesitated on the porch, taking in the view. When she finally entered the living room, she came face to face with Autumn.

"You can't move to California. I cried my eyes out when you left," Autumn said, throwing her arms around Morgan's neck and refusing to let her go.

"We're not moving. We talked to Holt and he's giving us 300 acres and we can do whatever we want with it," Morgan rushed to say before Autumn strangled her. She felt awful about fooling her. Should she tell her it had all been a joke? Would Autumn hate her for it? "I'm so glad he gave in. I couldn't have left you guys and moved to California."

Autumn held her at arm's length. "I know that, dummy. You think you took me in with all that moving to Napa stuff? No way!"

Morgan stared at her. "You knew? You just said…"

"Hello! You're marrying the king of practical jokes! You fooled me for a few minutes," she conceded, "and I was really upset at first. Then I figured it out. Pretty smart, though; you had the rest of them fooled all the way."

"Does Ethan know?" Rob asked.

"I think he suspects, but he doesn't blame you. Your Dad was being pretty unreasonable. So was Claire. But speaking of Claire, I'm glad you're back because I finally got around to cleaning that attic, and I found something I think you'll both want to see."

"What is it?" Morgan asked when Autumn handed her a thick manila envelope.

"Take a look through it. I’m going to rustle you two up some dinner. I doubt either one of you has eaten yet."

She disappeared into the kitchen, and Rob and Morgan sat down on the sofa to examine the contents of the envelope. A kitten appeared and Morgan did a double-take. It was Button, and she'd grown like crazy in the few days she'd been gone. She snuggled the cat in close and turned back to the documents inside the envelope. The first page seemed to be an itemized list of expenses. Not making heads or tails of it, Morgan handed it to Rob. Underneath she found a pile of receipts and old plane, bus and train tickets, many of them in an exotic script. She leafed through them with growing confusion.

The tickets were all issued to a woman named Anne Smith. By the looks of it, she was a world traveler, flying from Chance Creek to New York City, to England, France, and then – Morgan's eyebrows shot up – in every case to Dubai, followed by a connecting flight to Afghanistan.

How had these ticket stubs made their way into the Cruz's attic? She passed them to Rob, and looked further. The next set of pages contained a list of names, dates and locations. Badria Khan, b. June 8, 1986, Sangin to Kabul, May 15, 1997. Afshan Wazir, b. January 3, 1985, Khewa to Kabul, September 22, 1998. The list went on and on, sometimes with several listings per year, other times only one or two. Kabul always figured in the entries. Morgan knew it was one of the largest cities in Afghanistan. She assumed the first words were names of people, and the second, towns. People moving from villages to Kabul? What on earth did it have to do with her family?

The answer came at the bottom of a pile, where she found a smaller, worn envelope, that when opened disclosed a Canadian passport, birth certificate, driver's license and social insurance number card. Her mother's face stared out from the passport and driver's license, but in each case the name on the document was Anne Smith.

Morgan let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

What had her mother done? Wordlessly, she showed the passport to Rob.

"Well, hell," he said.

Morgan took back all the documents again, sorting through the tickets and receipts for trains and buses.

Her mother had been moving people from villages to Kabul. Accompanying them in their travels.

Why?

Autumn popped back into the room. "What do you think?"

"She was helping people move. In Afghanistan. I don't understand why, though."

"I checked – all the names on that list are female," Autumn said. "She was helping women move – girls, actually. Look at the two sets of dates on each line. I think the first is a birthdate. The second is the day she delivered them to Kabul."

Morgan began to do the math as Autumn brought in plates laden with warmed-up pizza and set them on the coffee table before them. "They're teenagers," she exclaimed.

"Child brides, I bet. It's the only thing that makes sense to me," Autumn said.

"You think my mom was rescuing…" Morgan trailed off. This was too bizarre.

"She was saving young women who were probably married off against their will. I imagine she brought them to a safe house in Kabul."

"That…makes no sense at all," Morgan said helplessly. She glanced at Rob, who was puzzling over the list of names again.

"I'm beginning to really wish I knew your mother," Autumn said, heading back toward the kitchen. "She must have been a hell of a woman. She raised two amazing daughters, too."

"I wish I knew my mother," Morgan said softly to Rob. "The more I learn about her, the more I realize I hardly knew her at all." She wondered what she'd find when she compared the dates of her mother's visits to her with the dates of her trips to Afghanistan. Was she just the first stop on her mother's annual trips from Montana to Kabul? How had she gotten fake papers, and how on earth did she maneuver in such a dangerous country? And to think a simple car accident in Montana ended her life.

Rob put the papers down and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her tight against his side. "I think in your heart you know her pretty well," he said. "And I think your mom would be proud of you right now."

She smiled lopsidedly. "For playing an elaborate practical joke on my entire extended family?"

Rob pulled Aria's fake passport out of the pile and waved it at her. "Especially for that."

* * * * *

Rob watched Claire rein in and drop back along the line of riders until she was next to him. He'd wondered if she'd finally deign to speak to him on this three hour ride. Jamie led the way far in front of them, and a string of guests followed him with varying degrees of proficiency on their mounts. It was the first time he'd worked with both of them since Morgan had come back from her trip.

"I'm sorry," Claire said gruffly, and he had to hide a smile. Apologies came as rough to Claire as they did to his father. He was sure this one was costing her.

"That's all right."

"No, it isn't," she said. "I took my own problems out on you and Morgan and that wasn't fair. Are you really going to take that land of your father's? You two belong here with us. You, Ethan and Jamie have been friends forever, you know?"

He realized that was probably all the apology he was going to get, but he was okay with that. He knew how your history could drive you a little crazy. Claire had spent a lifetime trying to figure her mother out. Now that Autumn and Morgan had shown her the paperwork and passports, she had her answer to where the missing money went. Aria must have funded those trips to Afghanistan herself, and paid who knew how much cash as bribes and expenses to move those women. Claire had told Morgan she planned to do some research and try to discover if her mother was working on her own or with an organization. If there was a group in Kabul dedicated to helping young women caught in arranged marriages, she wanted to send a donation in her mother's honor.

"Ethan still has my down payment for those 150 acres."

"Don't you want that back? I thought you and Morgan were short on cash."

"So you don't want us around that badly, huh?" Rob laughed at her expression. "I haven't had a chance to talk to Ethan about it."

Claire reached out like she would touch his arm, but her horse sidestepped and she had to bring it back under control. "I do want you around that badly. Morgan's my sister. I meant what I said – you belong on the Cruz ranch with us."

"I need that money, though," Rob said. "With the time I lost over my Dad's panic attack, and his preparation for his surgery, I'm way behind on Carl's garden. I won't finish it by his deadline, and I'll have to offer him some kind of discount for blowing it."

"She doesn't care about the money; she loves you," Claire said.

"I made her a promise," Rob repeated. "I know all of you expect me to break my promises, but she doesn't. That's important to me." An edge had crept into his voice. The only way he would have nearly enough money was if he got his deposit back from Ethan and borrowed the rest. The very idea of that made him want to spur his horse and ride away.

Claire nodded. "If you put your mind to it, you'll figure it out."

He looked at her askance. "You just saying that?"

"No." She met his gaze. "I believe it. You've got a good head on your shoulders, Rob. I'm impressed with what you've been doing here and at Carl's. Yesterday I was working on his place and I checked out the garden. It's beautiful. Totally wasted on Lacey, but spectacular just the same. You know," she looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe you and I should think about teaming up. At the very least I could pass your card around to some of my clients who might want your services."

"What services?" he asked, confused.

"Landscaping, silly."

* * * * *

Later that evening it was Claire who called a meeting in the Big House great room. She'd summoned Ethan, Autumn, Jamie, Morgan, Rob – even Cab Johnson. Tracey Richards and Rose Bellingham were escorting their guests to a street fair in town featuring local artists and musicians, so for an hour or two they were free to talk.

"I've been thinking over what you said the other day, Ethan," she began when they had all found seats on the easy chairs and couches. Morgan sat next to Rob, enjoying this moment of closeness with him. Between working for Ethan and his nights at Carl's, she still barely saw him. "And you're right; you and Jamie bought out my share of the ranch, but now I'm married to Jamie, which means I can claim part of it again. That's not really fair. I've decided I want to be a real partner in the ranch again. I'm making plenty of money with my interior design work, and I'm drawing a partial salary for helping with guests, as pitiful as that is," everyone chuckled, "so I'd like to buy back into the ranch, if you guys will let me."

Morgan noticed that Ethan was surveying his sister thoughtfully. "You've talked this over with Jamie, I assume?"

"Of course," Claire said, "and he's fine with it." Jamie nodded. "I thought that some of the money I invest could be used to pay down the mortgage to make everyone's life a little easier, and the rest could be put toward buying breeding stock." She waved a hand at Morgan and Rob. "I also want to say that I hope you two will become part of this ranch, as well. Rob already put a down payment on some of the land, and while I know Holt has given you 300 acres outright, I'd like you to consider moving forward with the purchase. Maybe the Tate Matheson Winery can be the first joint effort between the Matheson and Cruz ranches. I have a feeling it will benefit us all, and…well, I want us all to be a part of something together."

"Here, here," Jamie said.

"I feel the same way," Ethan said quietly. "I'm willing to structure that loan however you two need it to be to make this work."

Rob looked uncomfortable and he shifted in his seat beside her. "The only thing is…I'm not on track to finish Carl's garden by October first, which means I'm not on track to give Morgan the money I promised her for her wedding gift. Now hold on," he raised a hand to stop Morgan when she began to speak. "I don't want anyone here to misinterpret that. Morgan isn't marrying me just for my deep pockets," he paused to let everyone chuckle, "but we made promises to each other when we got engaged that were important to both of us. She's kept her promises and I mean to keep mine."

"You have kept yours," Morgan said in a low voice. It was hard to speak of things so intimate in front of a crowd, but the people gathered here in this room were the most important people in her life. "I told you I wanted to feel cherished, and I've never felt so cherished in my life. You've been working day and night to help me reach my dream, no matter what the cost to you in terms of your health, your sanity, or even your family. You don't need to prove anything else to me. I love you. If it takes a few more months – or even a year – to save up for the rootstock, so what? It will happen someday."

"There've been too many times in my life when I haven't kept my word, though," Rob said. "I'm sorry, I need that deposit back, Ethan. It's the only way I have a hope in hell of keeping my word to my bride."

"It's not the only way," Claire said. "I've cleared my schedule. I'm available to help you out on Carl's garden for the next week."

"I'll help every evening after chores are done," Jamie said.

"Me, too," Ethan chimed in.

"Rose told me she's available Thursday and Saturday," Autumn said. "And Tracey can help out on Friday and Sunday."

"Count me in for the weekend," Cab said, "Tuesday and Thursday nights, too."

Rob sat back, looking stunned. "You all would do that for me?"

"You bet," Claire said, "And I've made some calls. I've got all kinds of people lined up to help next week. You better get used to managing a crew, because you'll have eight to ten people working with you every day. Don't worry about the ranch chores; we'll pick up the slack on those. You get that garden done."

Rob turned to Morgan and grinned. "What do you think? Want to own part of both ranches?"

"Yes. Absolutely," she said and kissed him. "I wouldn't miss this for the world." She kissed him again, savoring the feel of him.

"Get a room," Cab drawled and everyone laughed. Morgan turned to him, her cheeks pink.

"You're next, you know." She said, pointing from Ethan to Jamie to Rob. "All the rest of your friends are getting hitched. Now it's your turn to find the woman of your dreams."

The big man blanched in the sudden attention of everyone in the room.

"Aw, heck."

* * * * *

"Where are you going?" Rob asked the next day when Jamie turned left instead of right. They were supposed to be driving to Carl's ranch to get to work on the garden, but Jamie had just gone in the wrong direction.

"We have a stop to make," Jamie said. A few minutes later, he turned onto the lane that led to Rob's family's ranch.

"Here?"

"Yep. Let's find your brothers." Jamie pulled up in front of the house, parked the truck and hopped out before Rob could ask any more questions, and by the time he maneuvered his way out the door his friend had taken off in long strides toward the nearest barn.

When Rob caught up with him, Jamie had already corralled Jake and Luke. "Where's Ned?" he was asking.

"I'll get him," Luke said. As he disappeared into another outbuilding, Jake asked, "What's all this about?"

"Once Rob's married, he'll divide his time between the ranches. He's got to help Morgan start her vineyard, Ethan with his trail rides, and me with my horse-breeding and riding school," Jamie said, "so he needs to nail down what part of this operation he'll be running, so he can schedule his time."

Rob nearly choked and Jake looked like he was having trouble swallowing this piece of news, as well. "The part he'll be running?"

"With your dad laid up and all, don't you think it's time he did his share?"

"Well, sure…but…" Jake seemed relieved when Luke returned with Ned. When Jamie repeated his piece, all three of them exchanged uncomfortable looks.

"It's not that we don’t want you," Ned began, finally. "I've been trying to get you over here for weeks. It's just…"

"There are no other parts to take on," Luke finished for him.

"What are you talking about?" Rob said. "Ned's been on my back all this time about how much work is going undone. With Dad getting an operation there must be lots to do."

"After Dad went to the hospital, we decided we'd better get together and sort out the rest of the ranch," Jake agreed. "It was the darndest thing – when we sat down to do it, we figured out there was no extra work. We were already doing all of it."

"We realized Dad had been preparing us for years to take over the spread. He'd already handed out his responsibilities," Luke chimed in.

"But…" Rob sputtered. "What's he been doing all this time? And what about all the work you said there was for me to do?"

"Let's just say Dad was supervising a lot more than he was working," Ned said. "As for the rest of it, there's always work to be done, you know that. But there aren't any real jobs to take on – not supervisory ones – and we figured you wouldn't want us to boss you around for the rest of your life. We can hire another hand or two."

Rob shoved his hands into his pockets. Hell, now that they didn't want him, he felt a little offended.

"You'll always be part of the ranch," Jake said.

"Don't see how," Rob said.

His brothers exchanged another glance.

"Look," Jake said. "You're starting something of your own, and we've agreed we're all behind you 100 percent. It doesn't matter what you do, you'll always be a Matheson."

"I like the sound of that winery," Luke said. "It'll bring a little class to the place."

"Plus a lot of wine," Ned said, grinning.

The lead weight of worry and familial duty fell away, and for the first time Rob felt like he could pursue his dream without losing his family. He stood straighter as the truth hit him; he'd done everything he set out to do – everything but marry Morgan.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

"How about this one?" Lisa pulled a creamy satin gown from the rack where Ellie Donaldson was hanging the dresses she picked from all over her store for Morgan to try on. The minute she'd walked into Ellie's Bridals, the white-haired woman had looked her over and bustled off to find just the thing. She'd laden the rack outside her dressing room with gowns and Morgan was having the time of her life climbing into each one, then coming out to stand on the pedestal in the center of the store and model for Lisa, Autumn and Claire.

"Don't you think that's too fancy for the wedding I'm having?"

Lisa frowned, and Morgan wanted to kick herself for the way she'd phrased that. Holt hadn't been discharged from the hospital yet after his operation. Lisa had explained that normally he would have already been sent home, but he had other health complications, and he would need to remain in the hospital for several more weeks.

Accordingly, they'd decided to forego the fancy wedding Lisa had wanted to put on at the Matheson ranch. Instead, the ceremony and reception would be held in one of the meeting rooms at the hospital, so Holt could take part. The Cruzes and Mathesons would all be there, plus as many friends and relatives as they could fit in the medium-sized room. Morgan squelched another pang of disappointment. After all, she was hardly contributing to the guest list. Even her father had been non-committal so far about whether or not he could make the wedding.

She lifted her chin. None of that mattered. What did matter was she was marrying the man she loved and creating the life she wanted with him right here in Chance Creek. There would be other occasions to celebrate at the ranch.

"I like this one." Autumn pulled out an elegant, slim gown. Morgan reached for it and went into the changing room. As soon as she stepped into the dress, she knew it was the one. The fitted bodice plumped her breasts up high, and the skirt draped and clung to her legs. It was the most sensual piece of clothing she'd ever worn, without being immodest in any way. Almost devoid of decoration, the dress was a masterpiece, and she felt as lush and radiant wearing it as she did when she made love to Rob.

A smile curved her lips at the thought. Soon she'd have the right to make love to him for the rest of their lives. What a gift that was. The thought of all those nights ahead of her made her tingle all over.

"Come on out and show us," Claire called, breaking into her reverie. She turned and exited the small room, her smile widening when the others' gasps told her all she needed to know.

"That's definitely the one," Autumn said.

"No doubt about it," Lisa agreed.

Ellie nodded as if she'd known it all along.

* * * * *

Thursday evening, Rob was at Carl's to put the final touches on Lacey's garden. The walls were up, the pathways paved with stones, the beds built and planted and the fountain and statuary installed. Claire and Autumn had searched every garden store for miles finding shrubs, perennials and annuals, and they'd filled the boxes and borders as best they could given the time of year. Cab had promised to give everything a good dousing with water and make sure the pathways were swept before Carl's final inspection.

Once Carl gave him his check, he'd head straight to the bank the minute it opened in the morning to deposit it so he could give Morgan her wedding gift. He was overwhelmed by everyone's generosity. The garden had come together beautifully with so many hands ready to help. He couldn't believe how many friends and neighbors – even acquaintances – had pulled together to get the job done when Claire put out the call.

He smiled over at Morgan who was picking fallen leaves out of a flower bed. The whole gang had decided to meet at Carl's garden for the grand unveiling, as Autumn had started to call it. He hoped Carl didn't mind. Since everyone had pitched in to work on it, they all felt invested in the outcome. Already people were spilling into the garden, and Carl's driveway was full of cars.

Autumn and Ethan, Jamie and Claire, Cab, Jake, Ned and Luke. Even Rose and Tracey, and Bella and Hannah from the pet clinic had shown up. He went to greet them happily, until he caught sight of Claire's face.

Uh-oh. Something was wrong.

"You won't believe it," she said, hurrying up to him. "Lacey's home early. Carl texted me to say he's picking her up from the airport and they'll be here in fifteen minutes."

"Thank goodness we got the garden done," Morgan said, coming up beside Rob and taking his hand.

"But the house isn't done," Claire said. "Most of it is, but half of the furniture isn't here and all the extra little touches. It'll be like walking through an empty showhouse. Damn it, I worked so hard on that!"

"I'm sure she won't mind," Morgan said.

"You don't know Lacey," Claire and Rob said at the same time.

"I'm going to make sure everything's as good as it can possibly be," Claire said, hurrying off.

"What do we do?" Morgan asked him.

"Wait, I guess."

* * * * *

So that was the infamous Lacey Taylor, Morgan thought as she watched Carl open the door to his luxury truck and offer his hand to a tall, thin, fashionable woman. She seemed dazed to find a whole group of people in her driveway – including her ex-fiancé – but Carl took things into hand.

"Folks, I appreciate you coming out, but I'd like to show Lacey around the house first before we head out to the garden. If you all will give us a few minutes, we'll join you there shortly."

Claire hovered at the periphery of the crowd. Morgan thought she wasn't sure whether to join Carl and Lacey or leave them alone. Carl spotted her, though, and seemed to realize her predicament.

"Lacey," he said, "I used Claire's services for the interior design of our new home. Nothing but the best for my girl, eh?" He gave her a squeeze. "Would you like Claire to tour the house with us?"

"It's not complete," Claire rushed to say, her normal confident tones weak with nerves. Morgan's heart squeezed for her sister. She knew this particular contract meant a lot to her. "We thought we had a few more days – most of the furniture hasn't been delivered."

"I'm sure it's lovely," Lacey said. "If you don't mind, I'd like to see it first alone with Carl. I didn't expect company."

"Oh…that's fine. I understand," Claire said. "I'll wait in the garden."

"Thank you," Lacey said, took Carl's outstretched hand and followed him into the house.

"Well, she's changed," Rose said. There were murmured assents all around.

"Really?" Morgan said to Claire. "How?"

"Let me count the ways," Tracey said, cutting in. "One, she's not dressed in some tacky miniskirt; two, she was actually polite and three; she was actually polite. Oh, and did I mention that she was actually polite?"

Everyone chuckled.

"We'd better head to the garden," Autumn said and led the way.

Ten minutes later the back door opened and Lacey stepped out onto the deck that overlooked the wide backyard and the whole garden behind it. With the fingers of pine forest running in from the hills forming a frame for the manicured space, Morgan was sure Lacey's view was spectacular. She held her breath, hoping against hope this difficult young woman would approve of it so Rob could get paid. She didn't know what Rob would do if after all his work, Carl was to renege.

"What do you think, sweetheart?" Carl asked her, escorting Lacey down the stairs into the garden. "I've taken care of everything, haven't I? And now that you're better there's nothing standing in the way of the two of us getting married. What do you say? Should we set the date?"

Morgan's breath caught when she saw Lacey's face. Why couldn't Carl see that Lacey was already overwhelmed by her homecoming, the enormous log home he'd built for her, and this outsized garden? Why did he have to push her for a date in so public a fashion?

In a horrible flash, she knew Lacey wasn't going to say yes.

"I'm so sorry, Carl," Lacey said, her voice wobbling. "I thought we'd have time alone to discuss it. You see…"

"Honey, I'm the one who's sorry," Carl broke in. "You've had a long day and you're tired. We'll discuss this another time."

"No, I think we need to talk about it now," Lacey said. "I can't marry you, Carl. I'm sorry. When we started dating all I wanted was to be with a rich man, but now things are different. I'm different. I came home early to tell you I'm going to college in Billings. I'm going to get a degree in counseling and I'm going to help other women who've been through what I've been through. I can't be a trophy wife, and as beautiful as it is, I can't just take care of a garden. I want to take care of people." She smiled tremulously. "I've finally found my calling."

Carl sat down heavily on a marble bench. "You're not going to stay? Lacey – I don't mind if you go to school…I'll pay for it…"

"No." Lacey touched his arm. "I appreciate that but I need to do this for myself. You need to find someone whole, Carl. Someone who loves you for you. I wish it was me, but it's not. I'm sorry. Everyone – the garden you made for me is beautiful. I'm sorry your work was for nothing." With a sob, she ran for the house. A moment later, Carl went after her.

"Well," Rob said heavily. "Back to the drawing board."

"Carl will see you paid," Ethan assured him as everyone returned to their vehicles in silence. Morgan wasn't worried about the money anymore. She knew they'd figure things out even if Carl didn't come through.

She felt bad for the man, though. Even millionaires could have their hearts broken.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

"Well, he paid me," Rob said to Ethan, Jamie, and Cab the next day as Carl's fancy truck drove away down the lane. "I hated to take it from him, but I did do the work even if Lacey didn't want a garden."

"I almost feel sorry for him," Ethan said. "Almost."

"I'm still finding it hard to picture Lacey as a counselor," Jamie said. "But I suppose stranger things have happened."

"Stranger things happen every day," Cab said. "For example, a certain friend of mine who swore he'd never get married is tying the knot."

Rob laughed as loudly as the others. "Yeah, that is kind of strange. Want to hear something stranger?"

"You're scaring me," Ethan said. "What could be stranger than that?"

"Out of all the things I've ever done for money, I liked making that garden for Carl the best." When the silence stretched out, Rob stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I still plan on helping with trail rides and horse-breeding and all the rest of it," he assured his friends, "but I think I'll be spending some time in that vineyard of Morgan's. And seeing as I have all those acres," he added, "probably can find somewhere to squeeze in a vegetable plant or two."

He turned back toward the Big House, knowing the others would need a little time to process that information.

"Is he joking or what?" he heard Ethan ask.

"I can't even tell anymore," Cab said.

* * * * *

"Are you ready?" Autumn asked Morgan, as she and Claire flanked her in her bedroom at the bunkhouse, smoothing her veil and fluffing the skirts of her wedding dress. Something tugged at her hem, and she glanced down in time to see a gray ball of fur disappear under her floor-length skirt.

"I think so," Morgan said, "but we better get the cats out of the room before they tear my dress." In fact, she felt a kind of serenity she'd never expected to feel minutes before she walked down the aisle. So much had happened in the previous month, this small journey felt like a piece of cake in comparison.

"I can't believe you're getting married in the hospital," Claire said, scooping up the kittens and putting them into the living room. "You could have waited a few more weeks and still had it at the Matheson ranch."

"In a couple of weeks snow might be falling," Morgan said, but she glanced outside at the broad sunshiny day and felt a pang of regret.

"Come on," Autumn said and led the way downstairs to where a limousine waited. Lisa, bereft of her plans for a huge ranch wedding, had insisted on this piece of ceremony at the very least. As Morgan climbed into the back seat with her two bridesmaids, her stomach began to flutter with excitement. This was really happening; she was actually marrying the man she loved.

And she was getting her vineyard and winery. They now had 450 acres to do with what they wished. Ethan had refused to return the money Rob put down on his land. Instead, they'd worked out a contract with generous terms and a 30 year mortgage they could pay as they went. Rob and Jamie were full of plans for breeding horses and holding riding classes of all kinds. Both of them would work with Ethan and Autumn on their guest ranch business. She had no doubt the three men would make the ranch prosper beyond all bounds.

Meanwhile, she'd get down to business raising grapes and preparing to build the winery, with Rob's help of course. In fact, he talked a lot about the vineyard, and about gardening in general, these days. While her vines were growing, she'd help Autumn with her side of the guest ranch business. Claire still planned to divide her time between interior design and trail rides.

It was all coming together, she thought happily as the limo turned into the lane toward the Matheson ranch.

Morgan sat up. The Matheson ranch? "What are we doing? Did Lisa forget something? What do we need to pick up?"

Autumn and Claire exchanged a smile. "You'll see," Claire said.

They pulled up to the main house, where she'd fought with Holt and Ned a few weeks back. The driver parked the limousine and came to open their door. Autumn climbed out and held a hand to her. "Come on."

Confused, Morgan followed her out of the car, then gasped aloud when she saw the lawn ahead of her, filled with guests seated in white folding chairs. At the end of the lawn stood a white arbor decked with flowers. Beneath it stood Joe Halpern, Rob, Ethan, Jamie and Cab.

"Oh, my God," Morgan breathed, raising a hand to her mouth. Tears pricked her eyes as she realized what was going on. The ranch wedding she'd longed for – it was actually happening.

Lisa bustled up to her side as Autumn and Claire surrounded her. "Got you!" she cried, beaming with happiness. "You didn't suspect a thing, did you? I can't believe you thought I'd let my baby boy and his wonderful bride get married in a hospital!"

Morgan laughed along with her. She couldn't resist Lisa's obvious joy. "How did you do all this without me even knowing?"

"Who do you think Rob got all his trickiness from? It certainly wasn't from Holt!" Lisa crushed her in a hug, then gestured to the others. "Everybody's waiting. Let's get in line, girls. As soon as you're ready I'll take my place up front. Wait for the music and then walk down the aisle. Morgan, here's your bouquet." She handed her a lovely cluster of old-fashioned blooms.

Morgan searched for Rob again and met his gaze across the seated guests. He shrugged and held his hands out to his sides to say he had no idea, either, then smiled broadly. Lisa urged her to the rear of the rows of seats, where the guests were craning their necks to see her reaction to the surprise.

"Thank you," she managed to say before Lisa hurried off. Autumn stood first in line. Claire came second. Standing behind them, Morgan looked around her, helplessly. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. The care and thoughtfulness of Lisa's arrangements overwhelmed her.

The music swelled, and Morgan's breath caught. Wait a minute, wasn't someone supposed to walk her down the aisle? Cab had stood in for Autumn's father, and Ethan for Claire's in their weddings…

"Morgan," a deep voice said, as an arm linked with hers. She looked up to see Holt, frail but steady. "Your father should be here, and if I was feeling stronger I'd fly to Canada and give him the thrashing he deserves. Lisa tried to track him down, but his wife said he was out of the country."

Morgan bit her lip. She refused to let her father ruin this special day, but his absence hurt.

A lot.

"Would you allow me to escort you down the aisle?" Holt asked, and it was the first time she'd ever seen him look uncertain. "I have no daughters of my own," he said. "I'd be honored to fill in."

Tears threatened to spill over her lids, but she held them back somehow. "I'd like that, very much," she managed to say.

First Autumn, and then Claire began to move down the aisle. Holt patted her arm, and when they processed side by side she found comfort in his presence.

The seats around her were filled with guests. Some she knew, others she had yet to meet, but she was sure in the years ahead, as she lived, worked, and raised her family in Chance Creek, they'd become the community she'd always craved.

At the altar, Rob waited for her, his gaze never leaving hers. So much love shone there, and such promise of the good times ahead. Morgan's heart began to race as she joined him in front of the minister, and Holt took his seat.

Joe Halpern raised his bible and began the ceremony. Looking into the eyes of the man she loved, Morgan knew she was finally home.

* * * * *

Rob thought he'd never get to speak his vows and take his wife into his arms to kiss her before God and man. Finally, however, the ceremony started, Joe said his lines, and he and Morgan exchanged rings. He gave her a brand new wedding band to match the engagement ring already on her finger. She slid the exotic silver band she'd given him a month ago back on his finger. He'd grown so attached to it he refused to pick out something new.

When he bent to kiss her, he searched her face to see if she truly meant her vows.

"I love you," she whispered.

He grinned and swooped in for that kiss. As their guests cheered, he cupped her face and kissed her on and on, finally breaking away to whisper back, "I love you, too."

Later, when they'd walked back up the aisle, and ducked into the main house for a moment alone, Morgan excused herself to freshen up and Rob waited for her by the front door.

Ned found him there and approached him before Rob could figure out an escape route.

"Glad everything worked out for you," Ned said, jamming his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah?" Rob still didn't feel like giving him an inch.

"Yeah. What I said a few weeks back…it wasn't right."

That was almost an apology, Rob thought in surprise. He surveyed his brother, who wouldn't meet his eye. "Maybe it's about time we figured out a way to get along."

Ned looked up, seeming relieved. "I don't mean to fight with you. It's just…we're different."

"What's wrong with that?" Rob wished Morgan was here. Or Autumn, or someone of the female persuasion. He had a feeling he and Ned weren't getting this quite right.

"Nothing, I guess." Ned shrugged. "That's what I wanted to tell you. You do your thing. I got your back."

Rob grinned in spite of himself. "Don't you mean you'll pound my back?"

"Oh, I'll do that, too, if it needs doing," Ned said, grinning back at him. "But as long as you keep in line, I mean to be your brother, not your enemy."

Rob figured they'd better quit while they were ahead. Luckily Morgan descended the stairs looking as radiant as a goddess. Ned backed away. "Congratulations," he said to Morgan as she passed by and then disappeared down the hall to the back of the house.

"Wow, he actually spoke to me," she said, linking her arm through his.

"I think we've managed to set things right," Rob said.

"I'm glad. I want all of us to be one big, happy family," she said. "Speaking of which," she squeezed his arm. "With all the excitement, I haven't been paying much attention. I just realized I'm a week late. I think I might be pregnant."

Rob rounded on her. "For real? Or is this another practical joke?"

She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss. "You'll have to wait nine months to see."

* * * * *

Morgan knew their friends expected them to head straight to Chance Creek airport and on to Aruba, where they'd decided to spend their honeymoon. Their flight didn’t leave until early the next morning, however. First they planned a night out under the stars.

They snuck down the lane to the Double-Bar-K in Rob's truck until he swerved off on a dirt track that led out to their land. The thought of what they'd gotten up to last time they'd been out this way – a month ago at Claire and Jamie's wedding – had her pulse racing.

This time there were no boundaries they couldn't cross. This time they could do anything they chose. Although they'd been together before, she knew that this was the true start of their life together and the full expression of their love.

She couldn't wait.

When he cut the engine, Rob reached behind them and pulled out a canvas duffel bag and a picnic basket. Morgan joined him outside, shivering a little in the cool air.

"I won't build a fire – we don't want unwelcome guests," Rob said, "but I brought these." He pulled out a thick blanket and spread it out on the ground, then handed another one to her. She shook it out and draped it around her shoulders like a cloak, watching the man she loved pull out other provisions from the bag and basket. A bottle of champagne and two glasses, a loaf of bread and hunk of cheese, even a pillow. "I want you to be comfortable," he said with a grin.

"What would you have done if it rained?"

"I've got a tent in the truck. I can go get it if you want."

She shook her head. She wanted nothing between her and those stars. Nothing except Rob.

She appreciated the thought he'd put into this night, but right now she didn't want champagne or snacks; she wanted him. He must have guessed what she was thinking, for he pushed the food away and reached out for her.

Morgan joined him gladly on the blanket and sighed when he bent to kiss her.

"How are you doing, wife of mine?" he asked, tracing the contour of her jaw with a finger.

"I'm doing fine. How about you, husband?"

He swept her into his arms with a groan, and it was all too evident exactly how he was doing. Morgan came up from his embrace laughing with joy.

"Are you going to get me naked or not?"

"With pleasure." He turned her around and fumbled with the long row of tiny buttons that held her dress together. "What kind of torture is this?" he asked after a long moment.

"It's a test of your dexterity," she said, as eager as he was to get them undone.

"I'll prove my dexterity to you in a minute, as soon as I get this thing off of you," he growled, kissing the back of her neck and tickling her ear with his breath. "There. I think I've got it."

She turned around, slid the gown off and stood before him in a white lace bra and garter set. She remembered how much he'd liked this kind of get up the last time they were here and she hoped the sight of it would propel him to similar feats of passion.

"Don't you look a sight," he said, leaning back to take in the view.

"Your turn," she said, and stood watching, hands on hips, as he obediently stripped down.

"I'd ask you which way you want to do this," he said as he approached, took her hands in his own, and pulled her in tight, "except it doesn't matter because we're going to try them all before the night's through."

"Oh, yeah?" she said as he tugged her down to the blanket. He leaned her back, supporting her as she lay down, then covered her with his own body. He tugged the second blanket over the top of them since the night had grown cool.

"Yeah," he said, and kissed her again. Lifting her arms above her head, he captured them in one hand, then used the other one to stroke and knead and squeeze her until she hummed with desire. He kissed her everywhere, from her forehead to her nose, to first one breast, then the other, weaving back and forth until she felt that her skin would soon catch fire. When he slid lower, she kept her arms above her head, clutching at the tough grass and weeds that grew all over this rangeland. When Rob tossed the blanket away, she welcome the cool touch of the night air on her skin. She wanted to be naked, wanted the sky and stars and all creation to witness this love of theirs.

Rob slid his hands under her ass and lifted her, dipping his head to taste her and drink in every inch of her beauty. She moved beneath him, slowly and sensually, joining him in this intimate dance.

When he moved back up to join her, pressing the length of him to her aching core, Morgan could barely contain herself. She wanted him inside her, wanted him to make love to her.

"Is this okay?" he asked, pushing forward an inch, nudging open her folds, giving her the tiniest taste of the sensations to come.

"Yes," she said, "but no fooling around this time. I want it hard and fast and powerful. I want it all."

"Yes, ma'am," Rob said, and plunged into her with a swift, hard stroke.

Morgan cried out as he pulled out and thrust in again, and then they were off and running, Rob's strong, fast strokes lifting her swiftly to a peak of desire. He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against him, plunging in and out until Morgan could hardly breathe. She held on for dear life, trusting him utterly to bring both of them to the brink, and when they fell over the cliff together, they called out as one, their cries echoing in the night air.

Rob cradled her then, stroking her hair, her face, her body, until her breathing evened out again. He kissed her forehead and down her nose to her lips, lingered there for long minutes.

"Are you okay?" he asked finally. "I wasn't too rough?"

"No," she said, a smile curving the corners of her mouth. "Just rough enough."

"You want to sleep a little? Or eat something?"

She could tell from his tenderness Rob didn't quite believe her – that he was feeling tentative, maybe even ashamed of the physicality of the way he'd made love to her. She had to nip that right in the bud. She wriggled until he relaxed his hold on her, then got to her feet and reached out for his hand.

"Where are we going? Is something wrong?"

Morgan didn't bother to speak. Instead she led the way to the same fallen log she'd braced herself against a month ago, leaned forward to place her hands on it, and spread her legs. She heard his breath hitch and a moment later felt him take his place behind her.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" he asked.

"Are you?" she teased him. He chuckled in response and in a moment she felt that yes, indeed, he was up for it. As he stroked her body from behind, taking her heavy breasts into the palms of his hands, he slid easily into her again and she sighed.

"I love you, Mrs. Matheson," he said.

"I love you, Mr. Matheson. More than anything else in the world."

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

About the Author

Cora Seton loves cowboys, country life, gardening, bike-riding, and lazing around with a good book. Mother of four, wife to a computer programmer/eco-farmer, she ditched her California lifestyle eight years ago and moved to a remote logging town in northwestern British Columbia.

Like the characters in her novels, Cora enjoys old-fashioned pursuits and modern technology, spending mornings transforming a neglected one-acre lot into a paradise of orchards, berry bushes and market gardens, and afternoons writing the latest Chance Creek romance novel on her iPad mini. Visit www.coraseton.com to read about new releases, contests and other cool events!

The Cowboys of Chance Creek series continues with Bella Chatham’s story, in The Cowgirl Ropes a Billionaire.