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Cowboy Defender
Carla Cassidy


A rancher races against the clock to save the woman he loves Clay "Romeo" Madison yearns to find his Juliet. So when Miranda Silver's life is threatened, the handsome cowboy risks everything to protect the pretty single mom. After all, she might be The One. All he's got to do is live down his scandalous reputation, persuade Miranda he's serious…and rescue her from a kidnapper before it's too late!







A rancher races against the clock to save the woman he loves

Carla Cassidy’s new Cowboys of Holiday Ranch romance

Clay “Romeo” Madison yearns to find his Juliet. So when Miranda Silver’s life is threatened, the handsome cowboy risks everything to protect the pretty single mom. After all, she might be The One. All he’s got to do is live down his scandalous reputation, persuade Miranda he’s serious...and rescue her from a kidnapper before it’s too late!


CARLA CASSIDY is an award-winning, New York Times bestselling author who has written more than one-hundred-and-twenty novels for Mills & Boon. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write.


Also by Carla Cassidy (#u7e64acc9-291d-56e4-a407-b3dea41f5e3b)

A Real Cowboy

Cowboy of Interest

Cowboy Under Fire

Cowboy at Arms

Operation Cowboy Daddy

Killer Cowboy

Sheltered by the Cowboy

Guardian Cowboy

The Colton Cowboy

Colton’s Secret Son

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Cowboy Defender

Carla Cassidy






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-09374-3

COWBOY DEFENDER

В© 2019 Carla Bracale

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To the members of Mid-America Romance Authors—

you all make me laugh and make me think. You are my

extended family and I hope to spend many more years

laughing and writing with you all!


Contents

Cover (#ubfb3e882-ce6e-5047-af6f-80412a674882)

Back Cover Text (#ub6bc2090-b63d-5a57-b566-a4bf436b7a34)

About the Author (#ub789a33b-8f7d-5dac-8d34-72f8507313ea)

Booklist (#u953fe6e8-8bfd-5073-a891-c182a0daa797)

Title Page (#u0d006b18-a804-599d-94f8-41d71a19c387)

Copyright (#u52cf4f7c-b5ba-58cb-84ed-68644b95865c)

Dedication (#u988674d0-afa8-5b05-9dc4-d8c0b84163d1)

Chapter 1 (#u56e1c5d7-4ca1-5a79-9d0b-d2f34a9e6df0)

Chapter 2 (#u6bad20b1-99d1-5240-938f-9a11758eece4)

Chapter 3 (#u39e53dd9-a682-59e5-bcc5-3fe545277e86)

Chapter 4 (#ua8a13142-db8a-5b63-91b4-eceac4eed623)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter 1 (#u7e64acc9-291d-56e4-a407-b3dea41f5e3b)


Miranda Silver was in a foul mood and desperately trying to hide it from her two children, who were running ahead of her on the sidewalk. Actually, she was exhausted and that always made her cranky.

Part of her exhaustion came from the fact that the high school students she taught English to had been particularly difficult and rowdy all day, as if in anticipation of the end of the school year that would occur in less than two weeks.

However, the real culprit behind her being beyond tired was her ex-husband, Hank. He had shown up at the house at one-thirty in the morning, drunk as a skunk and thinking that was the perfect time to fix the rickety front porch stairs of the house where he had once lived.

It was only when she had threatened to call Dillon Bowie, the Chief of Police of Bitterroot, Oklahoma, that Hank was finally convinced to go home. Thank goodness he hadn’t awakened the children, otherwise Miranda would have really been angry.

“Slow down,” she called to seven-year-old Jenny and eight-year-old Henry. Right now she wished she had half of their energy. She shifted her shopping bags from one hand to the other and tried not to worry about all the money she had just spent.

Last night she and the kids had gotten out all of their summer clothes and she’d been dismayed to discover nothing from the year before fit her kids now. So a shopping trip had been necessary and she’d spent way more than she intended. The price of new sneakers alone had nearly taken her breath away.

Of course, it would help if Hank would occasionally pay some child support, but at the moment he wasn’t working and she couldn’t depend on or expect any financial help from him. In truth, she’d never been able to depend on him for much of anything. He’d rarely kept a job during the last couple of years of their marriage and nothing had changed since their divorce a little over a year ago.

The two kids came to an abrupt halt at a storefront that sported frilly pink-and-white curtains at the window. “Mom, can we go in and get a treat?” Jenny asked, her big blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

Henry ran back, grabbed Miranda’s hand and looked up at her with a sweet appeal. “Come on, Mom, we’ve been really good all week. We did our homework and made our beds and everything. Please? Please?”

Unfortunately The Cupcake Palace was a little pricey. “Yes, you both have been very good all week, but I just spent a lot of money on your new summer clothes.” She hated to see the disappointed looks that settled on their little faces. Darn Hank anyway for never paying his child support.

“I’d love to treat a couple of cute kids and their mother to cupcakes and ice cream.” The smooth, deep voice came from behind Miranda and instantly she stiffened.

“For real, Mr. Clay?” Henry asked. He dropped his mother’s hand. “That would be totally awesome.”

“Yeah, awesome,” Jenny echoed.

Miranda turned to look at the cowboy who made almost all the female hearts in the small town beat faster.

Clay Madison was ridiculously handsome with his slightly shaggy blond hair and beautiful bright-blue eyes. His brown cowboy hat sat on his head at a cocky angle, and the smile that curved his lips not only showcased deep twin dimples but also seemed to light up the entire area around them.

“Evening, Miranda,” he said with a gentlemanly dip of his cowboy hat.

“Clay,” she replied with a curt nod of her head.

“Mommy, Mr. Clay said he’d treat us,” Henry said. “Did you hear him say that? That’s what he said.” Once again excitement lit Henry’s and Jenny’s features.

“And how do you know Mr. Clay?” she asked her son. Bitterroot, Oklahoma was a small town but there was no reason her eight-year-old son would know Clay Madison, who was a cowboy on the Holiday Ranch on the outskirts of town.

“He came and talked to our class last week about being a cowboy,” Henry replied. “I want to be a cowboy just like Mr. Clay when I grow up.”

She was surprised Clay hadn’t talked to the class about being a womanizer and a party boy. Rumor had it he did both things quite well.

“And I meant what I said. I’d love to treat you all.” He gestured toward the shop door.

“Mom, please?” Jenny begged.

When Miranda hesitated Clay leaned toward her, his eyes sparkling merrily. “It’s just a cupcake, Miranda,” he said beneath his breath.

“All right,” she capitulated, knowing to say no now would make her the meanest, most hateful mom in the entire world. Henry and Jenny jumped up and down in excitement. “Good manners,” she murmured to them as Clay opened the door and ushered them inside.

Myriad scents greeted them, all of them good. The smell of chocolate competed with a sweet fruity mix. Cinnamon and sugar added to the mouthwatering combination.

Pink-and-white ice cream parlor tables and chairs beckoned people to sit and enjoy. Miranda stifled an inward moan as she saw the older couple who occupied one of the tall tables. Wally Stern worked at the post office and his wife worked at being the town’s biggest gossip. Who knew what rumors would be whipping through the town about Clay and Miranda by morning?

Henry and Jenny danced up to the counter where cupcakes the size of small dinner plates were displayed. When you ordered one of the cupcakes you also got a healthy serving of ice cream on the side, making for a totally decadent dessert.

Mandy Booth greeted them with a big smile. The dark-haired woman was clad in jeans and a pink T-shirt advertising The Cupcake Palace.

“You don’t have enough to do with the café?” Miranda asked Mandy. Mandy had bought the town’s popular café several months ago and had opened The Cupcake Palace a month ago.

Mandy laughed. “The café is my bread and butter, but this place is my heart. I’d thought about opening some sort of fine dining place here in town, but Bitterroot isn’t really a fine dining kind of place, and Tammy’s Tea House already fills that need. Then I came up with this idea where I can bake to my heart’s content.”

“What does Brody think about you working all those hours?” Miranda asked. Mandy and Brody Booth had married two months before.

“Oh, trust me, I make plenty of time to keep my cowboy happy,” she replied with her dark eyes twinkling merrily. “Now, what can I get for you all?”

Throughout the brief conversation Miranda had been acutely aware of Clay’s presence. He stood so close to her that, despite the fragrance of the shop, she could smell sunshine and minty soap and a fresh-scented cologne that wafted from him.

“Hmm,” Henry murmured as he and Jenny stared at all the choices, as if this was the single most important decision they would ever make in their entire lives.

“I’d like one of those blue cupcakes,” Henry finally said. “Blue is my favorite color.”

“Ah, an excellent choice,” Mandy replied. “It’s a cream cheese cupcake with blueberry frosting.”

“And I’d like the pink one,” Jenny said.

“And I’ll bet pink is your favorite color,” Mandy said.

“I love pink, but I also love purple,” Jenny replied.

“Well, the pink is also an excellent choice. It’s a rich chocolate with a raspberry frosting.” Mandy began to plate the cupcakes. “And what about for you, Miranda?”

“Nothing for me,” she replied. She wouldn’t even be in here right now if Clay hadn’t manipulated her into an awkward position in front of her kids. He could treat the kids, but she didn’t need a treat from Clay Madison.

“Ah, come on, surely you want something,” Clay protested.

“No, thanks, I’m good,” she replied.

“Then why don’t you and the kids go get us a table and I’ll bring the goodies over when they’re ready,” he said.

“Okay,” she replied and corralled the kids to one of the tables across the room from where Wally and his nosy wife Dinah sat.

She settled into a chair and watched Clay at the display counter. The blue shirt he wore was stretched taut across his back muscles and nobody wore jeans better than him. He said something and Mandy threw back her head and laughed. There was no question the man was a charmer...the town’s Romeo. Well, Miranda wasn’t interested in anything he was selling.

Clay Madison was the last man on earth she’d want to hook up with for anything. Hopefully the kids would eat their cupcakes fast and that would be the end of it.

She pulled her gaze away from Clay and, instead, glanced across the room to see Dinah staring at her and then leaning closer to her husband to talk. Of all the couples to be here at this precise moment, why did it have to be that particular couple?

“This is so cool,” Henry said.

“We asked Daddy to bring us here last weekend but he said no. He always says no when we want to do stuff with him,” Jenny replied. “He just mostly sleeps when we’re at his house.”

“And he snores really, really loud,” Henry said with a giggle. “But Ms. Lori plays games with us and stuff. She’s real nice.”

Ms. Lori was Lori Stillwell, the attractive woman who lived with Hank in the small ranch house he rented. She worked from the house as a medical transcriber. She didn’t seem to mind Hank’s drinking or that she was assuredly paying all the bills. All Miranda cared about was that the woman was kind to her children when they were with Hank on the weekends.

Clay walked over with a tray that held the kids’ treats and then returned to the counter and brought back two more. He slid a chocolate-covered creation in front of Miranda.

“I’ve never known any woman to turn up her nose at chocolate,” he said.

“And you of all people should know about women,” she replied stiffly.

“Ouch. I see my reputation has preceded me.” The sparkle in his eyes appeared to dim a bit. “And you should know you can’t believe everything you hear.”

“What kind of a cupcake did you get, Mr. Clay?” Jenny asked him.

“This is a banana cupcake with rum-flavored frosting,” he replied. “I love bananas.”

There followed a conversation between him and the kids on what kinds of fruits they liked and what ones they thought were yucky.

Miranda listened to the conversation absently. She was just grateful that his beautiful eyes were no longer focused on her. Despite her intense wishes to the contrary, when he gazed at her she subtly warmed, as if he’d caressed her with his work-roughened hands.

She suspected that was his super power, that with just a look he could make a woman feel like she was the most important woman in the entire world.

She had no idea why he had decided to treat them all to cupcakes and ice cream, but if he had thought in his head to somehow seduce her then he had another thought coming.

She refused to be just another notch on Clay Madison’s bedpost. There was no way she was going to play Juliet to his Romeo.

As far as Clay was concerned, Miranda Silver was not only one of the prettiest women in town but she was also a respected teacher and had the reputation of being a terrific mother.

He’d had his eye on her ever since she divorced Hank just over a year ago. For the past year Clay had been on a quest to find his forever gal.

He’d watched as his fellow cowboys at the Holiday Ranch had found happiness and begun to build futures with the women of their dreams, but so far Clay hadn’t found the special woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And he wanted that. He longed for that.

As much as he found Miranda extremely attractive, her ice-princess facade had always been off-putting and had kept him from approaching her for a date. Buying cupcakes for them all was the perfect opportunity for him to break the ice and get to know her a little better. Hopefully, by the end of this time, he’d feel comfortable enough to ask her out on a real date.

“So, do you have big plans for your summer vacation?” he asked her.

She tucked a strand of her shiny blond hair behind one ear and picked up her fork. “The kids are involved in a lot of activities and that always keeps me busy, and I volunteer at the community center when I can.” She met his gaze for just a moment and then looked down at the cupcake in front of her.

Being close to her was even better than he’d expected. She smelled like summer flowers and her skin looked so soft and touchable, but it was obvious she would rather be anywhere but here with him. At least she had begun eating the cupcake he’d bought for her.

“Is it good?” he asked.

“It’s like a little taste of heaven,” she said begrudgingly.

“Mine is delicious,” Jenny said, her lower lip sporting a glob of pink frosting. Miranda gave her daughter a napkin.

“So is mine,” Henry said. He wiped his mouth with the napkin Miranda also handed him.

“I know you work at the high school. Do you enjoy teaching?” Clay asked.

“I do.” She stared down at her cupcake as if it was the most amazing object she’d ever seen in her life.

“You teach English, right?”

“Right.”

Clay bit back a sigh of frustration. It was obvious she didn’t intend to have much of any conversation with him. He didn’t get it. He’d never done or said anything to make her any kind of angry with him. Was she this way with all men? He’d never heard of her dating anyone since her divorce.

“Mr. Clay?” Henry eyed Clay with speculation. “Do you know how to play baseball, Mr. Clay?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Clay replied. For just a moment he remembered being young and on a ball field, the only place on earth where he managed to escape his father’s wrath for just a little while.

The scent of fresh-cut green grass had replaced the sweet violet fragrance of his absent mother and a coach’s pat on the back was the only nice touch he ever got from anyone.

“Mr. Clay?” Henry’s voice pulled Clay from his thoughts. “Would you come over and teach me how to play ball better? I asked my dad to help me but he said he likes football and doesn’t know anything about baseball.”

“I’m sure Mr. Clay has far more important things to do with his time than teach you how to be a better baseball player,” Miranda said quickly. She looked positively panicked at the very idea of Clay helping her son.

“Actually, I’d love to help you out,” Clay said to Henry. “I could come over to your house a couple of days a week after school.”

“That would be totally awesome,” Henry replied.

“In fact, we could start tomorrow.” Clay actually looked forward to helping the boy. Playing a little ball would bring back some good memories for him.

Henry’s smile fell. “I can’t tomorrow. We always go to our dad’s on Saturdays and Sundays.”

“Then Monday after school,” Clay said. And maybe in helping Henry he’d have a chance to get to know Miranda better, and more importantly, she’d get to know him and not just his reputation.

He now smiled at her. Darn, but she was one fine-looking woman. The royal-blue blouse she wore enhanced the hue of her blue-gray eyes, and sitting this close to her he could see her long, beautiful dark eyelashes. Unfortunately, she didn’t return his smile.

For the next few minutes he tried to make more small talk with her, but whatever he asked she answered with short, curt replies. All too quickly the kids were finished eating and they all got up to leave.

“This has been an unexpected pleasure,” he said.

“It was definitely unexpected,” Miranda replied. “Thank you, Clay.”

“No problem.” He looked at Henry. “And I’ll see you on Monday afternoon.”

“You promise?” Henry asked.

“I promise,” Clay replied.

The kids ran ahead of them to exit the shop. “You don’t really have to come over on Monday,” she said softly so the kids wouldn’t hear.

“I made a promise. You might not know this about me, but I never break my promises,” he replied.

They stepped out into the warm evening air. “Thank you again,” she said. “This was a nice thing to do for the kids.”

“I like to do nice things. Good night, Miranda and I’ll see you on Monday.” He turned on his boot heel and headed in the opposite direction, toward where his truck was parked in front of the General Mercantile store.

He got inside his vehicle and headed for home with thoughts of Miranda Silver whirling around in his head. Being near her had excited him. There was something about her that drew him, but it was pretty obvious she didn’t feel the same way about him.

He rolled down his window and allowed the late May evening breeze to fill the cab. The air smelled fresh and sweet with a hint of blooming flowers.

Clay loved spring, when the barren winter pastures turned a lush green and the trees once again sprouted leaves. It was usually the season of birth...cows calved and horses foaled and rabbits ran everywhere. All the cowboys had new purpose as they went about their chores after the winter’s slower pace.

Fifteen minutes later he pulled through the entry to the Holiday Ranch. This had been his home since he’d been thirteen years old and had finally gotten up the courage to run away from his home in Fox Hill, a small town about thirty miles outside of Oklahoma City. He’d run to escape his father’s physical and emotional abuse. He’d hitched a ride to Oklahoma City and had spent three brutal months living on the streets.

Luck had landed him here, along with eleven other lost boys, in the custody of Cass Holiday. Cass had passed away, but the ranch continued to thrive under the hand of Cass’s niece, Cassie.

He drove past the big white two-story house where Cassie lived with her husband, Chief of Police Dillon Bowie. In the distance lights had begun to appear in the cowboy motel against dusk’s deepening shadows.

The long building housed the cowboys in small individual rooms and in the back of the building was the dining/rec room. Clay parked his truck and headed around to the rec room, knowing that several of his fellow hands would probably be there chilling out after a day of work.

Sure enough, seated on the sofas and chairs were Jarod Steen, Flint McCay and Mac McBride. As usual Mac strummed his guitar, filling the large space with the sweet melody of a ballad. When he spied Clay, he stopped playing and put his guitar aside.

“Hey, man, what’s happening?” Mac asked.

“Nothing much.” Clay sank down on the sofa next to Jerod. “I just had cupcakes and ice cream with Miranda Silver and her two kids.”

All three men stared at him as if he’d just announced he had decided to marry a cow and have the wedding on the planet Venus.

“You and Miranda Silver? No way,” Flint said.

“Well, she is probably the last woman in the entire state Clay hasn’t dated,” Mac said dryly.

“Ha ha,” Clay replied and then told them about the chance meeting with Miranda and her children. “I’ll admit I’ve kind of had a thing for her for a while, so this evening was a great chance to get to talk to her. I’d really like to get to know her better.” But there had been no way he felt that asking for a date would be a good thing when they were leaving the cupcake place.

“And does she have a thing for you?” Mac asked.

Clay thought about the awkward conversation and the subtle jabs she’d given him while they’d been together. “Definitely she has a thing for me. I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“Well, that’s going to make having any kind of a relationship with her fairly difficult,” Mac replied.

“The good news is Henry asked me to do some baseball training with him, so I’ll be seeing her several times a week when I work with him,” Clay replied.

“Too bad that kid’s father is such a horse’s ass,” Jerrod said. A deep frown appeared between his dark brows. “Henry and his sister have participated in some of the activities at the community center. They are both great kids. They deserve better than Hank.”

“Then all I have to do is convince Miranda I’m not just another horse’s ass,” Clay replied. “I’ll have to pull out all my famous charm.”

“I know you’re good with the ladies, Clay, but I have a feeling you can pull out all the charm you possess, but that’s one lady you don’t have a chance with,” Mac said.

It wasn’t until later when Clay was in his twin bed in his room that he replayed the conversation in his head. It was true that Clay had dated a lot of women, especially over the past year. But how did a man find the right woman if he didn’t go actively looking for her?

All he could hope for was that Mac was wrong, because Clay really wanted Miranda to give him a chance.

* * *

Two hours ago Miranda had left The Cupcake Palace with Clay Madison. As usual, Miranda had looked perfectly put together in her black slacks and bright-blue blouse. Her shoulder-length blond hair had shone in the waning sunlight and she looked as pretty as she had in high school when she’d been the runner-up for homecoming queen.

She had to die, or at least be badly maimed.

She had to either leave this earth and be gone forever, or be crippled and ugly for the world to be right again. There was an enormous sense of satisfaction in finally deciding what had to be done.

Now it was just a matter of time and opportunity. The beautiful Miranda Silver didn’t know it, but she now had an expiration date stamped on her forehead.




Chapter 2 (#u7e64acc9-291d-56e4-a407-b3dea41f5e3b)


Miranda woke up on Saturday morning feeling a little bit guilty about the way she had acted the night before. There was no question that she’d been rude to Clay and that wasn’t really who she was.

However, there was something about Clay Madison that set her on edge. Maybe it was because she was far too aware of him whenever they were in the same space.

Okay, she could admit that she’d always been secretly physically attracted to him. But she also believed he was a fairly vacuous man, sliding through his life and women on his good looks and easy charm.

Besides, she wasn’t interested in having a man in her life. Being married to Hank had soured her on the whole notion. She had given up her dignity and self-respect in staying with Hank as long as she had. Now she just wanted to be the best teacher she could be and raise her children to be happy, healthy and good people. She didn’t need a man to accomplish those goals.

At ten o’clock the kids were in the living room with their overnight bags packed. “Do you both have your toothbrushes?” she asked.

They replied that they did. “And clean socks and underwear,” Henry added and then giggled. “I knew that was going to be the next question ’cause you always ask the same thing before we leave on Saturday mornings.”

“And then you tell us that you love us and we should be good for Dad and Ms. Lori,” Jenny said.

“Great, then I don’t have to say any of that same old stuff today,” Miranda replied with a laugh.

A knock sounded at the door. Miranda answered to see her ex-husband, the boy she had fallen in love with when she’d been sixteen years old and had fallen out of love with after years of an unhappy marriage.

“Hey, Miranda,” he said with the crooked smile that had once made her heart beat faster and now only made her sad. His eyes were bleary and red-rimmed, but at least there was no smell of alcohol on him.

“Good morning, Hank,” she replied. She opened the screen door but didn’t invite him inside. Beyond him she saw Lori in the driver’s seat of Hank’s king cab pickup and waved to her.

By that time the kids were at the door. A flurry of kisses were given and then Miranda watched as they all got into the truck and Lori pulled away.

Miranda closed the door and headed for the kitchen. On most Saturdays when the kids were with Hank and Lori, Miranda cleaned the house and then graded papers. Before she could get started on anything, the phone rang.

“Hi, Mom,” she said when she answered.

“Hello, my lovely daughter,” her mother replied.

Miranda smiled. She could imagine her mother sitting in her favorite blue-flowered chair, her silver hair perfectly coiffed and impeccable makeup highlighting her high cheekbones and bright blue eyes.

No one ever saw Katherine Albright when she wasn’t completely pulled together. It had been that way when Miranda was growing up and even while her mother had been taking care of Miranda’s father, who had been sick with prostate cancer for months. He had finally succumbed to the disease and was now buried in the Bitterroot Cemetery. As far as Miranda was concerned, her mother was the strongest women she’d ever known.

“I heard a little rumor this morning when I was getting my nails done,” Katherine said.

Miranda groaned inwardly. “And what rumor is that?” she asked, even though she knew. God bless Bitterroot, Oklahoma, and its healthy gossip mill.

“I heard that you and the children had cupcakes and ice cream with that handsome cowboy Clay Madison.”

“The rumor is true, but it was just a chance meeting. It didn’t mean anything and it was certainly no big deal,” Miranda replied.

“Well, that’s too bad. You could do a lot worse than Clay. Not only is he easy on the eyes, but from what I hear he’s a hard worker. Besides, he’s just so darned nice whenever I run into him in town.”

Good Lord, the man had apparently charmed her own mother as well as most of the other females in town. “Actually, Henry asked him to help him get better at baseball and Clay agreed to help out.”

“If Hank were any kind of a father at all he’d be the one teaching that poor little boy how to play ball,” Katherine replied and then went into a ten-minute diatribe against the man who had once been her son-in-law.

She harangued him for cheating on Miranda, for not being a good provider for his family and for not being a real and present father in his children’s lives. She then went on to talk about Hank’s drinking problem.

“Are you finished?” Miranda asked dryly when her mother finally stopped to take a breath.

“For now,” Katherine said with a small laugh. “I just don’t understand why a man with so much potential would waste his life.”

“The good news is he isn’t wasting any more of mine,” Miranda replied.

“Thank goodness, and now to the real reason I called...are you planning on taking the children to the spring fling celebration this weekend?”

“I might take them for a little while on Friday evening.” Miranda had put away a bit of fun money for the night where there would be people with booths and tents selling their wares, but more importantly for the kids, there would be carnival rides. “Why? Would you like to come with us? You know we’d love that.”

“Actually, I’m going to help out at Halena and Mary’s tent. You know they always get a lot of traffic, and Halena asked me to work with them and help them out.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Miranda asked. Katherine suffered from rheumatoid arthritis that often flared up and severely limited her mobility. There were days she was in so much pain she was unable to get out of bed.

“You can’t stop living because of a little pain,” Katherine replied. “I’ll be at their tent.”

“Then we’ll stop by to say hi to you,” Miranda replied. Halena Redwing and her granddaughter, Mary Nakni, always had beautiful paintings done by Mary as well as Choctaw-related items for sale. Halena was one of the town’s more colorful characters and it was always fun to see what she was up to.

“You know I always love to show off my grandbabies,” Katherine replied.

“And you know how much they love you,” Miranda replied.

The two women visited for the next fifteen minutes or so and then hung up. Her mother always made light of the chronic pain that she suffered, but Miranda worried about her. Katherine had tried several medications to help her, but they had all made her violently ill, so the only thing she took now was an occasional pain pill to get her through the particularly bad days.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Miranda cleaned and worked on the pile of laundry that seemed never-ending with two active kids, and then all too quickly it was bedtime.

Sunday mornings she always went to church and hated the fact that her children weren’t there with her. Lori had told her she was trying to get Hank to take them all to church on Sunday mornings, but so far it hadn’t happened.

It was six o’clock that evening when Hank and the kids appeared back on her doorstep. As Henry and Jenny ran into the house, Miranda stepped out onto the porch with Hank.

“I hope they were good for you and Lori,” she said.

“They’re always good for us, but what’s this I hear about Clay Madison coming over here to teach my boy baseball?”

“Henry asked him and he agreed. As I recall, Henry has asked you to help him several times and you always tell him you don’t know anything about baseball.”

Hank had the grace to look a bit sheepish. “Still, I’m not sure I want that particular cowboy hanging around here. You’d better watch out for him, Miranda. He’s been known to turn a woman’s head. From what I hear he’s a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy.”

“Trust me, my head isn’t in any danger of turning in any man’s direction,” she replied firmly. The last thing she wanted was to give her heart away to another man who might or might not take good care of it. She was just not willing to play the odds, especially with a man who had a reputation like Clay Madison’s.

Hank pulled out his wallet and opened it. “The kids told me you bought them some new summer clothes.” He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “I know it isn’t much, but this will help a little. You know as soon as I get some full-time work I’ll make things easier on you.”

“I know, Hank.” If good intentions were cash, then Hank would be a wealthy man, but she’d stopped expecting much of anything from him. Still, the twenty dollars would help toward the carnival-ride expenses. “I’m planning on taking the kids to the carnival on Friday night.”

“That’s good. They’ll have a great time,” he replied. “They were both already talking about what rides they wanted to ride and all the carnival junk food they wanted to eat.”

“They can ride whatever they want, but limits will be set on the junk food consumption,” she replied with a laugh.

He smiled at her. “You’re a good mother, Miranda. We might see you there on Friday night, but if I don’t see you then, I’ll see you next Saturday to pick up the kids.”

“They’ll be ready,” she replied.

Goodbyes were said and Hank returned to the truck.

The rest of the evening passed quickly with baths and bedtime for the kids. It was only when she was in her own bed that she realized within the next fourteen or fifteen hours Clay Madison might or might not show up at her house. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

At three-thirty on Monday afternoon Clay showered and put on clean jeans and a long-sleeved navy polo shirt. A thrum of excitement rode with him as he got into his truck and headed toward Miranda’s house.

On the passenger seat were two new ball gloves, a couple of baseballs and a good wooden bat he’d bought on Saturday. He didn’t know if Henry owned a decent glove or not, but he would after today.

He was definitely looking forward to working with Henry. He’d forgotten how much he’d once loved baseball until he’d tried on a glove in the store.

Immediately he’d remembered the crack of a bat hitting the ball, the shouts and cheers from the parents who sat on bleachers and the joy of running full-tilt for a base.

There was no question he hoped there would be an audience of one for the practice today. He could imagine Miranda sitting on her front stoop while he and Henry played in the front yard.

They would be able to talk and maybe laugh together. He’d love to ask her out on a date, but he had a feeling if he did that right now she’d shoot him down quicker than a wild mustang could disappear in the pasture.

Still, the excitement ratcheted up a bit as he turned down the tree-lined street where Miranda lived. It was a perfect day to toss around a baseball. The sky was a robin’s-egg blue and the temperature had climbed to the mid-seventies.

He parked his truck at the curb in front of her place and got out. Her house was a two-story painted white with forest-green shutters. A nice wraparound porch sporting a couple of pots with colorful petunias added to the appeal.

From a distance it appeared to be attractive and in good condition, but as he walked toward the porch he noticed that the wobbly wooden steps definitely needed some work and the paint on the shutters was faded and peeling.

Before he could knock on the door, it opened and Henry bounded outside. Clad in a pair of shorts and a bright blue T-shirt, he looked ready to play.

“Hi, Mr. Clay. I’m so happy that you’re here. I wasn’t sure if you’d really come or not.” He held in his hand a baseball glove that looked like it had been bought in a toy store.

“I promised I’d come and so I’m here. How about you trade that glove in for this one.” Clay handed him the new ball glove.

“For real?” Henry’s blue eyes widened.

“For real,” Clay replied and looked just over the boy’s shoulder to see if he might catch a glimpse of Miranda, but there was no sign of her.

“Like, it’s mine forever?” Henry asked.

Clay laughed. “Yes, like, it’s yours forever.”

A lump of unexpected emotion leaped into Clay’s throat when the young boy threw his arms around Clay’s waist and hugged him tight. “Thank you, Mr. Clay.” He finally released Clay and stepped back. He put his old glove down on the porch and placed the new one on his hand.

“Does your mom know I’m here?” Clay asked.

“Yeah, I told her when you pulled up in front of the house.”

“Okay, then let’s get started.” Clay couldn’t help but be a little disappointed when he started playing catch with Henry and Miranda didn’t make any kind of an appearance.

For the next hour the two of them threw the ball back and forth to each other. Clay showed the boy how to keep his shoulders positioned toward the thrower, how to stand on the balls of his feet and to keep his eye on the ball.

It was obvious to Clay that what Henry needed more than anything was practice and he hadn’t even brought out the bat to see how well the boy could hit balls.

It was right before five when Miranda stepped out onto the front porch. She looked utterly feminine and yet professional clad in a pair of navy slacks that showcased her long, shapely legs and a white blouse that had a pretty ruffle down the front. Her blond hair sparkled in the sunshine overhead and once again he was struck by how pretty she was.

“Evening, Clay,” she said.

“Hey, Miranda,” he replied. He wanted to bound up to the front porch and sit in one of the wicker chairs there and talk to her, but there was no invitation for such a thing either in her greeting or in her stiff posture.

“Henry, it’s time for you to come in now and wash up for dinner. And thank you, Clay, for helping him out.” She turned and disappeared back into the house.

A wave of disappointment swept through Clay. “So, are you going to come over again?” Henry asked eagerly.

“Sure. How about tomorrow around the same time?”

“Awesome,” Henry replied. “Mom is going to sign me up on a team soon and I want to be a really good player.” He gave Clay a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Clay watched as Henry ran up the rickety porch stairs and disappeared into the house.

The next day and Wednesday were the same thing. He and Henry worked in the front yard and Miranda didn’t make an appearance except to call Henry in for dinner each evening.

Still, Clay was enjoying his time with Henry. He did seem like a good kid who was eager to please and showed a lot of gratitude to Clay. He also had a wonderful, carefree laugh that somehow touched Clay. Maybe it was because he’d been around Henry’s age when his mother had left him and taken all the laughter with her.

Thursday when Clay arrived for more practice time, Jenny was seated on the porch with Henry. They both popped up and ran toward him as he got out of his truck.

“You said we were going to work on batting today,” Henry said. “So Jenny is going to play outfield for us.”

“I don’t know what outfield means, but I’m going to chase the balls when Henry hits them,” she said.

“Perfect,” Clay replied with a laugh.

He didn’t even bother to look for any glimpses of Miranda. Although he’d had ulterior motives when he’d first offered to help Henry, in the last couple of days it had become all about Henry and helping him to become the best little ballplayer he could be.

Clay was happily surprised to discover that Henry had a good eye when it came to batting. Jenny was kept busy running after the balls her brother connected with.

They’d been playing for about an hour when Miranda stepped out of the front door carrying a tray of colorful plastic glasses. Clay’s heart lifted at the sight of her clad in a pair of jeans and a navy tank top. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail and she actually offered Clay a small smile as she approached them.

“It’s a little warm today so I thought you all could use a nice cold drink.” She picked up one of the glasses and handed it to Clay.

“Thanks.” All of a sudden he felt tongue-tied in her presence. Jeez, he’d made small talk with plenty of women in the past. He’d been hoping to talk to Miranda all week, so why couldn’t he think of anything to say to her now?

Thankfully she busied herself handing out the drinks to her children, who carried them to the porch and sat down, and then she gazed back at him. “A beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Warmer than usual,” he replied as he caught a whiff of her sweet, evocative perfume riding on the air.

“It’s really nice of you to be helping out Henry like you have been. He spends his entire evenings talking about you and baseball,” she said.

“That must make you crazy,” Clay replied wryly.

“It’s not so bad. It’s nice to see him so excited. You’re helping him gain some self-confidence and I really appreciate that.”

“He’s a great kid and I’ve been enjoying working with him. He shows a lot of promise.” Clay took a drink of the lemonade, pleased with the nice conversation they were sharing.

Henry set his drink glass down on the porch and ran over to where Clay and his mother stood. “Mr. Clay, we’re going to the carnival tomorrow night. Why don’t you come with us? That would be so much fun. Wouldn’t it be fun if we could all go together, Mom?”

Clay wasn’t sure who was more surprised, he or Miranda. However, he wasn’t about to let this opportunity go by. “I’d love to join you all tomorrow night, but I think it’s something your mother and I need to discuss in private.”

“Oh, okay.” Henry turned on his heel and ran back to the porch. “Now you can talk in private,” he yelled back at them.

“I sure don’t want to put you in an awkward position,” Clay began.

“You mean like you did at The Cupcake Palace?” she interjected.

He grinned at her. “Without us eating cupcakes together, Henry wouldn’t have a baseball coach.”

“Touché,” she replied, and to his pleasure her mouth moved to a half smile that appeared to hold a touch of warmth.

“Miranda, I would love to take you all to the carnival tomorrow night,” he continued. “It’s never much fun to go to those kinds of things alone.”

The warmth he’d thought he saw in her eyes seemed to frost just a bit. “I’m sure if you really wanted to, you could find somebody to go with you.”

“That may be true, but there’s nothing better than enjoying a carnival with a couple of kids,” he replied. He glanced over to where Jenny and Henry sat on the porch and then looked back at her. “Please allow me the pleasure of taking you and the kids tomorrow night.”

Although he hadn’t thought much about the big festivities starting the next night until Henry mentioned it, more than anything at this moment he wanted Miranda to say they would all go together. He held his breath as he waited for her to reply.

She looked toward the kids and then gazed back at him. “It wouldn’t be a date,” she finally said.

“Of course not,” he replied hurriedly.

“Because I don’t date.”

“Okay, then it would just be an evening of us all hanging out together,” he assured her. “Besides, I promise to ride all the scary rides with Henry.”

“Ha, you would be riding those rides with Jenny. She’s my little daredevil.” She stared at him for a long moment and then slowly nodded her head. “Okay, we’ll go with you as long as you understand it’s all about the kids and this has nothing to do with you and me having any kind of a relationship.”

“I completely understand.” Clay tamped down his elation. “What time should I be here to pick you all up?”

“Why don’t we make it around six? And we’ll want to stay until after dark. The kids always like seeing all the carnival lights.”

“That’s part of the fun. Then six it is.” He looked over to Henry and Jenny who were still seated on the porch. “We’re all going to the carnival together tomorrow night.”

“Awesome,” Henry yelled as he jumped off the porch and raced toward them.

Jenny was right behind him, her pretty little features lit with happiness. “Do you like scary rides, Mr. Clay?” she asked.

“I do,” he replied. “Scary rides are some of my favorites.”

“Oh, good, because Mommy and Henry don’t like them. They’re just two old fraidy-cats.”

“Then I’ll be your scary ride buddy.” Clay laughed as the little girl clapped her hands together and her blond ponytail danced up and down.

“And do you like funnel cake?” Henry asked.

Clay laughed again. “I love funnel cake.”

“Only after you eat something better for dinner,” Miranda said. “We’ll get hot dogs or something for dinner before any funnel cake is allowed.”

“Speaking of dinner... I’d better get back to the ranch before Cookie puts everything away,” he said. Cord Cully, aka Cookie, was the cantankerous old man who provided the meals to all the cowboys at the Holiday Ranch. “I’ll see you all tomorrow at six.”

Minutes later, as Clay headed for home, more than a bit of excitement danced through his veins. No matter what Miranda called it, tomorrow night he was going to have his first date with her.




Chapter 3 (#u7e64acc9-291d-56e4-a407-b3dea41f5e3b)


Okay, she’d had a weak moment. That was the only way to explain Miranda’s agreement to go with Clay to the carnival. When he’d told her he’d like to take them all and that there was nothing better than enjoying a carnival with kids, she’d thought she saw a whisper of loneliness in his eyes. And that, coupled with all his work with Henry, had made for a weak moment.

Throughout the day on Friday she fought the impulse to pick up the phone and call or text him and cancel the evening plans. It would certainly be the smart thing to do, but ultimately she hadn’t made the call.

It didn’t help that Henry and Jenny were so excited about sharing the evening with him. They’d not only talked about it all yesterday evening but now at five-thirty they had already parked themselves at the front window to wait for his arrival. If she’d canceled the plans with Clay they would have been bitterly disappointed.

There would be a lot of speculation when people saw them all together. People were definitely going to talk, but she was used to that. She had often been the topic of town gossip when she’d been married to Hank.

She now focused her attention on the bathroom mirror. It was supposed to be a little cool this evening so she’d opted to wear jeans, a light blue short-sleeved blouse and a white cardigan sweater.

She didn’t know if she was dreading or looking forward to the night. Certainly she was looking forward to seeing Henry and Jenny having fun. And it wasn’t as if she was really dreading spending time with Clay. She was just cautious...very, very cautious.

Every afternoon when he had arrived to work with Henry, she’d spent a long time hiding behind the curtains in the living room and watching out the window as Clay interacted with her son.

The first thing she’d noticed was how Clay’s shirt stretched across his muscled back and broad shoulders, and how his jeans clung to his butt and long legs. Yes, the man was definitely hot.

What was even hotter was how often he had praised Henry and how patient he was with the little boy. There was also a lot of laughter between the two during the practices. It was hard to dislike a man with those kinds of attributes.

For Henry and Jenny’s sake, she’d put up with Clay’s presence with them tonight, but there would be no more social activities between them in the future. The last thing she wanted in her life again was a party boy who loved the women. Been there...done that...and she never, ever wanted to do it again.

She left her bedroom and went into the living room to wait for Clay’s arrival. As they waited, the conversation revolved around cotton candy and funnel cake and fun rides. It had been a long time since she’d seen her children so excited about a night out and at least part of that excitement came from Clay’s going with them.

“There’s going to be a big crowd at the carnival, so it’s really important that we all stay together,” Miranda said. “That means no running off for anything. Do you both understand?”

The two of them nodded. She wanted to make sure they knew this rule before they got to the festivities. Jenny was especially guilty of often wandering off or running ahead.

At exactly six o’clock Miranda couldn’t help the unexpected butterflies that took wing in the pit of her stomach when Clay’s bright blue king-cab pickup pulled up in the driveway. She grabbed her purse and corralled the kids outside before he could even step out of his vehicle.

“Hey.” He greeted them with that smile that flashed his dimples and seemed to brighten the air around him. “Are you all ready for some fun?”

“Definitely,” she said, but her voice was drowned out by Henry and Jenny shouting with their excitement.

It took only minutes to get the kids settled in the back and her in the passenger seat. She was definitely ready for some fun. It had been a long week with her students stressed over finals and acting out in ridiculous ways.

“You look mighty pretty,” he said as he started the truck.

“Thank you.” He looked mighty fine himself, clad in jeans and a black long-sleeved polo shirt that clung to his muscles and enhanced his blond hair. He smelled good, too. The fragrance of minty soap and a clean, fresh cologne wafted from him and filled the interior of the truck.

“I hope you don’t mind, but when we first get there I’d like to find Halena and Mary’s booth,” she said. “My mother is helping them out tonight and wanted us all to stop by.”

“That’s not a problem. I always enjoy visiting with your mom, and Halena is usually a real hoot,” he replied.

As they traveled to the old rodeo grounds just on the outskirts of town, the conversation remained light. Miranda felt herself beginning to relax, although the butterflies continued to swirl in the pit of her stomach each time she glanced at him.

Of all the men in Bitterroot, why did Clay Madison have to be the one to give her butterflies? He was the antithesis of what she wanted in a man...if she’d been in the market for a man...which she wasn’t.

She was grateful when they reached the fairgrounds where the musical sound of the carousal battled with the barkers who urged people to throw a ball or flip a ring or toss a dart for a big prize.

The scents of cotton candy, sizzling hot dogs and freshly popped popcorn rode the evening air. The sounds and the smells made any deep thoughts impossible.

“Will you ride the carousal with me, Mr. Clay?” Henry asked as they walked toward the festivities. “I want to ride it and pretend I’m a cowboy riding the range.”

Clay laughed and threw his arm around Henry’s shoulders. “I’d be honored to ride with you, partner.”

It should be Hank throwing his arm around his son, Miranda thought, but Hank would rather wrap his arms around a bottle of gin. However, Miranda had long ago become resigned to Hank’s shortcomings and she tried to be both mother and father to her kids.

Still, she didn’t want her son to get too close to Clay. She didn’t want Henry to get hurt by any man. It was bad enough that Hank continued to disappoint his son on a regular basis.

Although she would love for Henry to have a good, strong male role model in his life, there was no way that man would be Romeo Clay Madison.

As they joined the throngs of people, she couldn’t help but remember all the reasons she was wary of Clay and his reputation.

“Evening, Clay,” Bonnie Abrahams said from their left as they walked toward Mary and Halena’s booth. Bonnie toyed with a strand of her long, bleached hair and batted her false eyelashes. “Miranda,” she added with another flip of her hair.

“Hi, Bonnie,” Clay replied with his easy smile. “Did you ever get that old car up and running?”

“Larry down at the garage fixed me up and it’s now purring like a kitten,” Bonnie said.

Clay turned to Miranda. “Bonnie has a sweet 1969 Mustang convertible. I tried to help get it running for her.” He grinned ruefully. “I can easily rope a cow, but I’m sure no mechanic.”

“Still, you know I really appreciated you trying to help me out,” Bonnie replied.

As they continued on their way to Mary and Halena’s booth, Clay was greeted by more women. “Is there any female in this town you don’t know?” Miranda finally asked.

Clay laughed. “I’m sure there are a few. What can I say? I spend a lot of time in town when I’m not working on the ranch. I hang out at the café or at the Watering Hole and so I meet a lot of people. And I’m sure I know as many men as I do women.” He flashed his charming smile. “I’m a friendly kind of guy.”

Thankfully, by that time they had reached Mary and Halena’s booth. The kids ran toward Miranda’s mother, who embraced them both in a group hug.

Mary looked first at Miranda and then at Clay, her beautiful features radiating more than a touch of surprise. Clay greeted her with a hug and then approached Halena and hugged her, as well.

“And aren’t you two a surprise,” Halena said. “Clay, you’d better treat her right. She’s a good woman.” Halena reached up and straightened her hat, a creation of pink and red silk flowers with a miniature Ferris wheel among the blooms. The Choctaw woman was known for her outlandish hats, among other things.

“Oh, it isn’t like that,” Miranda said hurriedly. “Clay has been helping Henry with baseball and he really wanted Clay to come with us tonight, but Clay and I...we aren’t together. It’s nothing like that.”

“Hmm, too bad. You make a good-looking couple,” Halena replied. “I’m still waiting for the man who will make me part of a good-looking couple. But you two really should be a couple.” She turned on her moccasins and began to straighten a rack full of colorful clothing.

“How’s business?” Miranda asked Mary, eager for a change of topic.

“As you can see, it’s a little slow right now, but tomorrow will be our big day,” she replied. “Still, it should pick up some in the next couple of hours or so.”

“We’d better sell a lot because I need some new hats,” Halena said.

Mary rolled her eyes. “My grandmother needs a new hat like I need a pet pig.”

“Can we get a pet pig, Mom?” Henry asked.

“Absolutely not,” Miranda replied.

“Can we get a dog?” he asked.

Miranda shook her head. “Not right now.”

“Then can we go get some hot dogs? I’m starving.”

She laughed. “That we can do.”

They said their goodbyes to Mary, Halena and Miranda’s mother, and then they headed for the closest place to get something to eat.

The crowd had grown while they’d been visiting. They were almost to the hot dog booth when they ran into Hank and Lori. “Daddy!” The kids greeted him by running to him and hugging him.

“What have we here?” Hank asked as his gaze shot from Miranda to Clay. Miranda could tell he’d been drinking, not only by the bleary look in his eyes but also by the gruff belligerence in his voice. “I warned you about this cowboy, Miranda. What in the hell are you doing here with him?”

“Hank, whatever issues you have with me...now is not the time,” Clay replied calmly. He looked pointedly at the two kids, who had crept closer to Miranda’s side.

Lori grabbed Hank’s arm. “Come on, Hank. You promised me a ride on the Ferris wheel. Let’s go take that ride.”

Hank grumbled beneath his breath and glared at them one more time, and then thankfully Lori managed to pull him away.

“Come on, kids. Let’s go get some hot dogs,” Clay said, breaking the tension with his easy grin.

Miranda smiled at him, grateful that he hadn’t gone all macho and added to what could have been a difficult situation with Hank. Within minutes Hank was forgotten as they all sat at a picnic table with juicy hot dogs and crispy french fries before them.

“So, what are we going to ride first?” Clay asked as they were finishing up the meal.

“The octopus,” Jenny said.

“The carousel,” Henry replied.

“And what would you like to ride?” Clay asked Miranda.

“I’m kind of like my son...nothing too fast or too scary. I think it would be fun for all of us to ride the bumper cars,” she replied.

His eyes lit up. “What do you say, kids? How about we all bump your mother?”

“Yes,” Henry replied and fist-pumped in the air.

“Don’t worry, Mommy. I’m on your side and I’m going to bump Mr. Clay really hard,” Jenny said.

Challenges were thrown down amid laughter and that seemed to set the mood for fun. For the next hour they enjoyed a variety of rides and then took a break for funnel cake.

“I love funnel cake,” Henry said with the lower half of his face covered in powdered sugar. “I think it’s my favorite dessert in the whole world. What’s your favorite dessert, Mr. Clay?”

“I like mud pies,” he replied, making them all laugh.

“I like to make mud pies,” Jenny said, and then giggled. “But I don’t ever eat them.”

“Thank goodness,” Miranda said with a laugh.

After the sweet treat it was time for them to ride the carousel. Henry chose a white horse with a lei of blue flowers around its neck and Clay climbed on the brown one next to him. Miranda and Jenny took the horses right behind them.

As the music began and the carousel started to move, Miranda was surprised to realize she was having fun...she was having lots of fun with Clay. He was a charming tease and made her and the kids laugh. Although any real conversation was tough with the music and the noise of the crowd, what they had shared had been so natural and easy.

It was strange; she didn’t believe he was consciously seducing her and yet she somehow felt seduced. She watched now as he leaned over his horse, as if pretending to spur it to run faster. Henry laughed in delight and also leaned over his horse.

That was part of his seduction, that he was so good with the kids. His enjoyment of them appeared to be one hundred percent genuine and it was obvious they adored him.

His beautiful eyes often lit with laughter and he had one of those smiles that made it almost impossible not to smile back.

She was appalled to recognize that she was even more sexually attracted to him than she had been. Of course, it had been almost two years since she’d been with a man. She’d stopped having sex with Hank almost a year before they had divorced.

Clay was a very sexy, handsome cowboy. Why wouldn’t she be sexually attracted to him? That certainly didn’t mean she was going to act on that attraction.

“How about we go see if Henry and I can win a couple of stuffed animals for the ladies?” Clay asked as they got off the carousel.

“That sounds like fun!” Henry replied. “Can we, Mom?”

Her intention had been to skip the games of chance, but she wound up capitulating to the majority. They had just about made it to those particular booths when three familiar teenagers bumped into them.

Jason Rogers, Robby Davies, and Glen Thompson were all seniors. They were big guys with a penchant for bullying younger and smaller kids at the school.

“Hey, chill out,” Clay said as they all shoulder-bumped, jostling Jason into Henry.

“Well, if it isn’t strait-laced Silver,” Robby said. His friends laughed as if he’d said something amazingly funny.

Miranda’s cheeks burned with a touch of embarrassment. She’d known that some of the boys at school called her that behind her back, but this was the first time it had been said to her face.

“Wise guy, it might not be so smart to bad-talk a teacher during finals,” Clay said.

“Ha, the joke is on you, you dumb cowboy. I’m not in any of her classes,” Robby replied, his tone filled with an utter disrespect that surprised her.

“Come on, Robby,” Jason said, as if sensing the tension that was suddenly in the air and wafting off Clay.

“Yeah, man, let’s go. I’m starving,” Glen added.

“Do I smell beer on your breaths?” Miranda asked. She was sure she smelled booze.

“Underage drinking is a serious offense,” Clay added. “Maybe we all need to go find Chief Bowie.”

“Let’s go,” Glen said. “I don’t want to get in any trouble. My dad would kill me.”

“I suggest you all move on,” Clay replied. His voice held a hard edge. “But before you go, I believe you owe Ms. Silver an apology.”

Robby’s eyes held a hint of anger. He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet. “Sorry,” he said, his voice a surly snarl.

“And Robby, a word of advice...be careful who you call a dumb cowboy in this town. One of those dumb cowboys just might wind up giving you a butt-whipping you’ll never forget.”

Clay held Robby’s gaze until finally Robby looked away. “Come on, guys. We’ve got more important things to do than waste our time here,” he said.

“What a piece of work,” Clay said as the three disappeared into the crowd.

“I think they all were booze-brave. I’ve never seen Robby be so disrespectful.”

“Let’s just forget about them.” Clay threw his arm around her shoulders and looked at the kids. “Come on, let’s go win some stuffed animals.”

She told herself she should step away from him and dislodge his arm from around her. But the night was cool and his arm was so very warm—and there was nothing even vaguely sexual about it.

In any case, he was the one who withdrew his arm when they reached the first booth. You had to shoot water into a target to fill a balloon, and he insisted they all play.

Their competitive sides were definitely on display as they hooted and hollered in an effort to distract each other. In the end Clay won and his prize was a flashy plastic bracelet that he gave to Jenny.

“That was just for a warm-up,” he said and gestured toward the next booth where stuffed animals hung from hooks overhead. Poodles and tigers, baby elephants and bears all challenged them to take one home.

By the time the night was over, both Jenny and Henry held stuffed bears in their arms. Miranda’s stomach hurt from laughing so much. Her belly was full of carnival food and even though she didn’t really know Clay any better than she had before, she felt a strange kind of closeness to him...a connection forged in laughter and fun.

And they’d had fun. She’d enjoyed his company and that was why she didn’t want to put herself in this kind of position again with him. He could finish up helping Henry with baseball, but that was it.

Once again, as they headed down the midway in the direction of the parking area in the distance, they were elbowed and bumped by the crowd. The carnival’s illumination made everything a beautiful color against the darkness of the night.

They paused to turn back and admire the many colored lights that outlined the Ferris wheel rising up in the dark sky and every other ride along the midway. The kids oohed and aahed over the lights, but she could tell both of them were getting tired. It had been a long evening for them.

They turned back to continue their trek to the car. A hard push moved Miranda sideways and at the same time something splashed all over the front of her sweater. Darn, somebody had spilled a drink on her. She stared down at the front of her sweater as a noxious odor filled the air.

“What the hell?” Clay shouted. He stared at her for a moment and then grabbed her sweater by one side and ripped it off her. He tossed it to the ground. “Did it get on your blouse? On your skin?” he asked urgently.

“N...no.” She stared at him, her head spinning with what had just happened. “What is it? It smells like rotten eggs.”

“It’s sulfuric acid.”

“S...sulfuric...” Her voice trailed away as stunned shock swept through her. She stared at Clay and then looked down at her sweater. The acid had already begun eating away at the cotton threads.

Her knees weakened and the crowd around them blurred. Acid. As she thought about what would have happened if the liquid had hit her face, a chill she had never felt before iced her entire body.

Clay pulled her close to his side, along with the two children who obviously knew something was horribly wrong. She leaned into him, desperately needing his warmth, his strong support.

“We need to call Dillon,” he said and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

“Sh...should we pick up the sweater?” she asked, her teeth chattering in her head.

“No. Don’t touch it,” Clay replied and then he connected with Dillon. He told the chief of police what had happened and where they were located and then hung up.

“He should be here in just a few minutes.”

He tightened his arm around her, as if knowing she needed his strength, his body heat to pull her back from complete hysteria.

It had to be some sort of a horrid mistake. If it wasn’t, then that meant somebody had just tried to hurt her, to disfigure her with acid.




Chapter 4 (#u7e64acc9-291d-56e4-a407-b3dea41f5e3b)


Dillon arrived on the scene and placed the sweater in an evidence bag. Miranda called her mother to come get the children and take them home with her for the night, and Clay and Miranda were now in his truck following Dillon’s police car to the station to fill out a report.

Dillon had questioned a lot of people at the fairgrounds as Clay remained with his arm around Miranda. She had trembled like a frightened dog in a thunderstorm despite his arm around her.

He still couldn’t believe this had happened. What kind of a damned fool did something like this? He was still in a state of stunned horror.

He now looked over at Miranda. In the dashboard illumination she was pale as a ghost. Her slender fingers nervously twined and untwined in her lap. He had his heater turned on as the night had grown cool and she was without her sweater, but she continued to shiver as if she couldn’t get warm...as if she’d never be warm again.

“How are you doing?” he asked gently.

She released a tremulous sigh. “I’m not sure. I’m still in a state of shock. What I’m trying to figure out is why anybody would have something like that at a carnival?”

Clay clenched the steering wheel a little bit tighter. “I can’t imagine why anyone would ever have sulfuric acid anywhere but in a battery. It’s not exactly the kind of stuff you just put in a cup and walk around with.”

“It had to have been in some kind of an open container. Did you see anyone holding anything strange?” Her voice held a slight tremor.

“To be honest, I wasn’t paying attention to the people around us. I was just trying to get through the crowd with all of us together. I’m sorry.”

She released a small, humorless laugh. “No need to apologize. Who knew we had to be on the lookout for a crazy acid thrower?”

She shivered once again and Clay reached out and took one of her hands in his. “Dillon will be able to figure it all out,” he said with more conviction than he felt. “At least it didn’t splash on your skin.”

“No, but it ate my favorite white sweater.”

He squeezed her hand and then released it as he turned into a parking place in front of the Bitterroot Police Department. Dillon had disappeared around the corner to park in the back of the building.

“Look at it this way, you can always get another white sweater, but you can’t get another pretty face,” he replied.

He turned off the engine and together they got out of the truck and went through the front door where dispatcher Annie O’Brian greeted them in obvious surprise.

Before they could speak, the door behind Annie’s desk opened and Dillon gestured for them to follow him down a hallway. Dillon’s private office was Spartan. No interesting pictures on the walls, no official-looking framed documents announcing Dillon’s awesomeness. There was just a large desk holding a computer and a framed picture of Cassie. A leather chair was behind the desk with two straight-backed chairs facing it.

Dillon sat at the desk, and Clay and Miranda took the other chairs. As Clay eased down, the tension that had twisted in his guts finally eased a bit. However, it didn’t go away altogether. If that acid had hit anywhere else on Miranda it could have caused real harm to her.

“So, tell me again exactly what happened,” Dillon said to Miranda. As she told him about being shoved aside and then the liquid being splashed on her, Clay’s stomach muscles twisted tight once again.

Had she been pushed aside intentionally in an effort to isolate her from Clay and the children so the acid would only hit her? The thought of the attack being that personal chilled him to the bone.

For him, the evening had only confirmed that he wanted to know more about her and spend more time with her. Being at the carnival with her and her children had made for one of the very best nights of his life...until the end.

He believed tonight he’d seen the real Miranda, with a warm sparkle in her eyes and ready laughter on her lips. But at the moment he was frightened for her.

“And neither of you saw who threw it?” Dillon asked.

“Not me,” Clay replied with deep regret.

“I have no idea who threw it on me,” Miranda replied. “There were so many people.”

“Do you know of any reason anyone would want to do something like this to you?” Dillon asked.

“I can’t imagine,” she replied, looking utterly bewildered.

Clay was grateful to see some color returning to her cheeks. “What about those bone-headed kids we ran into?”

“What kids?” Dillon asked.

“We ran into Robby Davies, Glen Thompson and Jason Rogers,” she said. “They were showing off and being disrespectful. I think they’d imbibed in some liquid courage.”

“I told Robby that someday somebody was going to give him a good ass-whooping.” A wave of horrifying guilt swept through him. “Oh, God, I hope I’m not responsible for the attack.”

“Don’t even think that way,” Miranda instantly replied. “I can’t believe those boys would be responsible for something like this. They can be rowdy and sometimes a little mean, but this, it’s just too...too evil.”

“I’ve had a few run-ins with Robby.” Dillon’s eyes were dark and thoughtful. “But mostly I’m called out to deal with him over a teenage fight. Certainly nothing as serious as this.”

“And Hank wasn’t real happy to see me with Miranda,” Clay added.

“Hank would never do something like this,” Miranda said firmly. “He might be the town drunk, but he isn’t capable of doing something like this to me.”

“And neither of you remember anyone specific being around you when the acid was thrown?” Dillon asked again as a frown cut across his forehead.

Both Miranda and Clay shook their heads. Dammit, he should have been more aware of things...of the people surrounding them. But how could he have anticipated that somebody would throw acid on Miranda? He still found it hard to believe...and horrifying that it had happened at all.

What he wanted to do at this very moment was wrap his arms tightly around her and carry her off someplace where he knew she would be safe.

“Have you had any fights or arguments with any parents at the school?” Dillon’s question pulled Clay from his thoughts. “Or maybe a coworker?”

“No, nothing like that.” Miranda’s cheeks paled once again. “So you think this was a specific attack on me and not just some random thing?”

Dillon’s frown deepened. “Right now I’m not sure what to think. I’m sending your sweater to the lab, but it will take a while to get back results. Before we left the carnival grounds I talked to dozens of people, but nobody confessed to seeing anything.”

He stood. “I’ll question the boys and continue to investigate, but in the meantime the only advice I can give you is that you might watch your back and let me know immediately if anything else disturbing happens.”

Miranda was shaken by the lawman’s words. Clay could tell by the darkening of her eyes and the way she half-stumbled out of the chair.

He jumped up and grabbed her by the upper arm to steady her. Hell, he was also badly shaken by Dillon’s words. He thanked the lawman and led Miranda out of the building and back to his truck.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said breathlessly as he started the engine.

“I still say it was some kind of a crazy random act,” he replied in an effort to ease her fear a little. “You are very well liked and respected in this town.”

“But what kind of a person does something like this? Who even thinks about throwing acid on another person? It’s the worst kind of evil. It’s like something out of a horror movie. I can’t even imagine that I know anyone capable of it.” She wrapped her arms around herself as if suddenly chilled. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling.”

“Ramble away. Most women would be completely hysterical by now.”

“I’ve really never been the hysterical type,” she replied. “But, I reserve the right to be hysterical if something like this happens again.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” God, he didn’t even want to think about something like this happening again to her. He pulled up into her driveway.

She stared at her dark house for a long moment and then turned to look at him. “Uh, would you like to come in to visit for a little while? I’m afraid all I can offer you for a drink is either coffee or cherry Kool-Aid.”

He knew if the night had ended without incident she probably wouldn’t have invited him inside. But she was scared and he was scared for her. “I’ve always been a sucker for a good cherry Kool-Aid.”

She flashed him a quick, stressed smile. They got out of the truck together and walked up the wobbly porch stairs. “You could definitely use some new stairs and railings,” he said as she unlocked the front door.

“Hank has promised to fix them for months. He even showed up here last week in the middle of the night to fix them. He was stinking drunk and I sent him home. I’m beginning to think it’s about time to hire somebody else to fix them.” She opened the front door and ushered him inside.

He entered a small foyer and followed her into the living room. It was a space that befitted his impression of her. The sofa was dark blue and overstuffed, with big floral throw pillows that immediately offered a welcome to sit and visit for a spell. A bookcase held a television as well as movies, games and storybooks.

There was a faint scent of cinnamon in the air, as if something wonderful had recently been baked. The room held the warmth of family and Clay instantly felt at home.

“Do you really want a glass of Kool-Aid or would you rather have a cup of coffee?”

“The first thing I’d like is a tour of your house.” He didn’t really care about what the rest of the house looked like, but after the night they’d had he wanted to make sure they were the only two people on the premises.

She looked at him in surprise. “Oh, okay.” She led him up the stairs and into the first bedroom on the right. It was an explosion of pink...pink bedspread, pink curtains and a fuzzy pink throw rug on the floor.

“It’s a great room for a little girl,” he said. He walked over to the closet and opened it. “And good closet space.” He turned back to face Miranda.

She stared at him and he was dismayed to see fear darkening her eyes once again. “You aren’t just interested in seeing my decorating style or the layout of the house.”

He released a small sigh. He’d hoped to be smooth enough that she wouldn’t know what he was doing, but he’d obviously failed. “You’re right. I want to make sure nobody is here who shouldn’t be here.”

“Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

Fifteen minutes later they were seated at the kitchen table with cups of coffee. He had checked every single room in the house and all the closets. He had also been pleased to see that her doors had both good locks and dead bolts. All the windows on the lower level were also equipped with solid new locks.

“You sure know how to give a man an exciting first date,” he said.

“It wasn’t a date,” she protested.

“Oh, that’s right. You don’t date. Why not?” A woman like her should love and be loved. She was not only beautiful, she was also bright and had a musical laugh that would make the birds sing in the trees.

“The main reason is that I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m not interested in marrying again so there’s really no point in dating.” She took a sip of her coffee and eyed him as she set down the cup. “So, why do you date so much? You must know that your nickname around town is Romeo Madison.”

He winced. “I can’t figure out this dating thing. If I’m Romeo then all I’m doing is looking for my Juliet. How else do you find that special someone if you don’t date?”

“According to rumor, you’ve definitely been cutting a wide swath through the female population,” she said dryly.

“It’s not like I’m sleeping with every woman in town,” he protested. “It’s just that I go out with a woman a couple of times and realize she’s not the forever one for me, so I stop seeing her.”

“Well, I hope you find that special someone,” she replied.

“I’m working on it.” He certainly wasn’t going to tell her that he was working on it right now and trying to figure out how he could get a second date with her.

“It’s getting late,” she said after a long moment of awkward silence. “And to be honest, I’m completely exhausted.”

It was an obvious dismissal. He drained his coffee cup and stood. “Walk me to the front door?”

She nodded and also got up from the table. Together they walked to the door and once there he turned to face her. “Try not to worry about what happened tonight. I can’t help but believe it was a random attack and had nothing to do with you personally.”

“I desperately want that to be true.”

She looked so small and so achingly vulnerable. Knowing he risked a major rebuff, he followed through on his desire and pulled her into his arms.

She stiffened, and then relaxed against him. She fit as if she belonged in his arms. She was warm and he could feel the thrust of her breasts against his chest.

His sole reason for embracing her was to comfort her, but as he continued to hold her for several long moments a wave of desire swept through him.

She sighed and raised her face to look at him. Her lips parted slightly and he took advantage of the moment and covered them with his own.

So soft and so wonderfully warm, her lips stirred him and heightened the desire that had been sizzling through him all evening long. He touched the tip of her tongue with his and that’s when she halted the kiss.




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