She laughed in a low tone as she dropped her voice to a whisper. "And remember, roses are always good, particularly yellow ones for Texas." She disconnected.

Kent groaned as he tucked his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. He should've known this would somehow turn out to be all about getting him a wife. His mom was probably planning the wedding, or more likely, pulling out her original plans. Nothing he could do about it. Moms would be moms. And he'd lucked out with one of the best, so he couldn't complain, or at least not where she could hear him.

He paced over to the railing and leaned against it, feeling as if his get-up-and-go had got-up-and-went straight to Lauren Sheridan. He hadn't been able to get her off his mind or out of his bed, if only in the metaphorical sense. He had a hot ache that was burning a hole in his jeans, and he wasn't sure he liked it one bit. How the h.e.l.l had she come back to town and gotten under his skin in only one day?

He liked relationships simple anymore. He'd built his life around simple. He was dedicated to simple. Sure as shootin', Lauren was anything but simple.

He took another swig of coffee out of his porcelain mug shaped like a much-worn cowboy boot. He used it because he didn't have the heart to tell his mom, who'd given it to him, all proud-like, that it was a pain in the neck to clean and tended to spill out the uneven top if he didn't hold it just right.

He sighed and glanced over at the glossy front door of the hundred-year-old farmhouse. Pink. Not bright pink or even an acceptable red, but pale pink. He didn't complain about it either, or change the color, because his mom had put her heart and soul into decorating their family's original house on Cougar Ranch. Not that his parents lived there anymore. They'd built a comfy, stone ranch house on the highest point, and he'd taken over the farmhouse.

He squinted, trying to get the pink to change color. No dice. His mom insisted the color was a tribute to former First Lady Mamie Eisenhower's love of pink. As she'd explained, that was why so many houses built in the 1950s had pink bathrooms and other stuff. Pink was considered a neutral color instead of a feminine shade back then.

He shook his head. Who knew from First Ladies or pink tile? Anyway, the farmhouse wasn't built in the fifties. Still, he never said what was really on his mind. He just endured the annoying pink door along with his boot mug. Sometimes you had to pay a steep price for those you loved, particularly women and their c.o.c.kamamie notions.

He walked past two white rocking chairs with pale-pink cushions and sat down on a pink cushion that covered the seat of a white porch swing that hung from the ceiling. The wooden house was painted bright white from top to bottom except for the gray porch floor and the silver metal covering its peaked roof. He liked being surrounded by wood and age and heritage. He took another slug of coffee, careful not to spill brown sludge onto the pink chintz.

For some no-good reason, he felt lonely. And that wasn't like him at all, not with his kinfolk and friends running in and out of his life. Maybe his brain was on the fritz. His hormones sure as h.e.l.l were in overdrive, thanks to the arrival of his first sweetheart.

He might as well just go ahead and admit it. He'd been courtin' Lauren since the moment he'd stepped outside the firehouse wearing nothing but his jeans and a big grin and seen her standing there like a dream come true. Bottom line, he could twist every which way but Sunday, and he'd still end up bird-d.o.g.g.i.ng her.

And then there was that little chip off the old block named Hannah. Lauren's adorable little girl took him right back in time to when he'd grown up with Lauren. Hannah was sugar and spice all rolled into one smart cookie. And yet, there was a loneliness and wistfulness to her that tugged at his heart. He wanted her to be whole and happy, just like he'd want for his own child. If he could help set her on the right path, he'd do it in a minute.

In his world, the right path almost always included the healing power of horses. Kids loved and trusted ponies. They were right to do so. The four-legged animals were smart, intuitive, and generous with their affections. He'd seen it time and time again that folks who were unable to trust other people or communicate with them on an emotional level could do both with horses. Far as he was concerned, horses were a great gift to everyone from leathery-skinned codgers to rosy-cheeked kiddos.

Still and all, the right horse had to be placed with the right person. Sometimes that placement could come fast, but other times it could take a while to find the perfect mount. Hannah was correct to want a pony of her own. She'd make a fine cowgirl. He wished he'd thought of equine-a.s.sisted therapy for Hedy, but he hadn't even considered going there. He hoped Lauren was right about changing Hedy's life with therapeutic riding.

He was willing to help find the right horses and provide the s.p.a.ce for them. In his book, loved ones came first. And he couldn't tolerate seeing somebody in emotional or physical distress, not when he had the ability to help solve the problem.

As he finished off his coffee, he set the swing in motion, creaking back and forth like it had for over a hundred years. Time. It had a way of getting away from you if you didn't catch it and ride it like a bucking horse. Maybe you'd stay on. Maybe you wouldn't. But it wasn't the count that mattered in the long run. It was the act itself. If he didn't take action, he might be sitting here on this same porch in this same swing fifty years from now with not much to show for it. At least, he wouldn't have much to show for it in the way of family.

He could see now that he'd been blaming Charlene for not being what he wanted her to be. She had as much right to her own way of life as anybody else. But if he gave up the thorns he'd woven around his heart for protection, where did that leave him? He'd be about as vulnerable as a turtle without its sh.e.l.l. On the other hand, he could take a chance again.

He pushed off with his right foot and swung higher, harder, realizing that his head was gonna follow his heart with or without his rational consent.

Chapter 21.

About midmorning, Lauren turned off Wildcat Road at an open gate. A sign overhead read "Welcome to Cougar Ranch" studded with a lone star in a circle on either side of the words. The ranch sign stretched from tall post to tall post, and it was made of powder-coated, heavy-gauge steel in a dark-blue finish that was typical of the area. She really liked Cougar Ranch's traditional sign, particularly since it hadn't changed in all these years.

She drove slowly across the cattle guard. It had an old wagon wheel on either side of a row of horizontal metal pipes that kept cattle from straying off the property but let wheeled traffic move easily in and out. She headed up the graded gravel road that led to the old farmhouse, feeling as if she were moving back in time to those long-ago happy days.

When they'd made plans on the phone earlier, Kent had told her that he now lived at the farmhouse, while his parents had built a new home with all the modern conveniences and open floor plan. Yet the original home site would always have a special place in her heart. She'd played there as a child and sat on the porch swing when she was older. She vividly remembered sharing the turn of the seasons with Kent and his family. They'd made and eaten caramel apples in the fall, creamy divinity candy at Christmas, fresh peach ice cream in the spring, and deviled eggs dyed red, white, and blue then arranged on a platter in the shape of a United States flag for the Fourth of July.

She couldn't help but feel nostalgic for those innocent days that had seemed endless at the time. Now she knew they were fleeting from one moment to the next. If she could go back in time, she'd savor every single minute, knowing that her special world of love, laughter, and friendship was an endangered creation. And yet, as with all of life, she could only live in the present and take it as it came-one precious moment after another.

She glanced at her daughter, strapped into a booster seat in the pa.s.senger seat of their SUV. All those years ago she couldn't have imagined sharing her current life with Hannah. She smiled as she thought of that very morning. Hannah had awakened her with giggles and tickles. Pretty quick, they'd gotten into a tickle-fest across the bed that had left them both with big grins on their faces. That fleeting experience would last as a bright jewel in her memory forever.

So far, she was relieved that Hannah appeared to be adjusting remarkably fast and well to her new environment. In just a day, she'd bonded with new friends and family. Right now Hannah couldn't seem to get enough of the North Texas scenery. And yes, it was as beautiful as ever.

A few fluffy white clouds highlighted the clear, azure sky, casting shadows across the wide plains with rolling hills that extended as far as the eye could see. Cottonwood trees grew along meandering streams while live oaks shaded black cattle. She couldn't see the Red River below the bluff to the north, but she knew the water moved sluggishly in a winding red slash between Oklahoma and Texas as it made its way to Louisiana before turning south for the Gulf of Mexico.

As she wound her way up to an elevated spot on the ranch, she saw the farmhouse. And sighed. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed this one special place on Earth till this very moment.

Ancient oaks with spreading limbs trimmed upward made a canopy over the front yard, and when their leaves fully sprouted would shade the peaked roof of the house. She'd almost forgotten how the simple farmhouse had touches of Victorian gingerbread along the roofline of the octagonal room that jutted out from the front with a covered porch to one side. Three narrow posts held up the porch roof, while a simple wood railing of vertical slats enclosed the floor. A stone walkway meandered up to three stone steps that made the entrance look warm and cozy.

When had Kent painted the front door, a barn type with eight gla.s.s panes, pale pink? She couldn't imagine why he'd selected that color, but it made her grin in delight because it was so against a rugged, cowboy type that it was simply fun. Then again, maybe his former fiancee had decorated and he hadn't had the heart to change her improvements to his home. She felt a little deflated at that thought, but then pushed it from her mind. No matter, the pink door contrasting with the white house and silver roof worked well for her.

She felt her breath catch in her throat and her heart speed up when she saw Kent rise from the swing and walk to the edge of the porch. Somehow, he might still hold the key to her heart. She wasn't sure how she felt about that fact, but she realized she might like it very much despite her past with Jeffrey.

Kent looked good in a crisp blue cowboy shirt, faded jeans, and brown boots. He raised a hand in greeting. She waved in return before she drove around and parked on the cement drive at the side of the house beside Kent's blue truck. She turned off the engine, glanced at Hannah, and was rewarded with a big grin.

"I like that house." Hannah grinned even bigger. "Is my pony inside?"

Lauren chuckled, shaking her head. "That's a people-house. There's a barn in back that's a horse-house."

"Yay! Let's go see the horses."

"Let's talk with Kent first."

Hannah turned big brown eyes on Lauren. "I like Cowboy Daddy, and I like his house."

"Me too."

Lauren chuckled in happiness as she stepped out of the SUV, leaving her handbag on the floorboard. She slipped her cell phone into the front pocket of her well-fitting jeans and smoothed down her crimson long-sleeve T-shirt before she walked around to the pa.s.senger side. She helped Hannah out of her booster seat, then watched her daughter dance impatiently in place. She proudly wore her favorite pink long-sleeve T-shirt-studded with rhinestones in the shape of a horse's head-with blue jeans and yellow athletic shoes.

As they rounded the corner of the house, Kent walked down the steps with his easy, long-legged stride to meet them.

Lauren felt her heart speed up even faster this close to him. Maybe she was excited because she was back at the old home place, but she guessed the feeling had more to do with Kent than anything else.

"Mornin'." Kent gave them a lazy smile that revealed his dimples.

"Hi Cowboy Daddy," Hannah said shyly, grasping Lauren's fingers and swinging their hands back and forth.

"Hey there, little one," he replied.

"I'm not so little."

"That's right," he quickly agreed, smiling at her.

"We're not intruding or keeping you from work, are we?" Lauren asked even though they'd made plans earlier. She didn't want to put anybody out just to meet her needs.

"Remember, you're back in Wildcat Bluff now. We take care of our own." Kent's hazel eyes lit with inner fire as his gaze swept over her.

"I'm not used to small-town Texas anymore."

"Better get used to it. You know everybody'll be up in your business whether you want it or not."

"Guess you're right. And it's all with the best of intentions."

"You know we're like the old-time ranchers and farmers around here. We all depend on family, friends, and community to make life safe and good." He gave her a big grin before he took a sip of coffee from his cowboy boot mug.

"I appreciate everyone being so generous already."

"You'll return the favor someday."

She nodded in agreement. "Fine mug you've got there." She couldn't help teasing him. "Real cute."

He grimaced, looked down at the mug, and shook his head. "Don't say a word. Mom found it someplace and decided it suited me."

Lauren chuckled, appreciating Kent's love for his mother. She squeezed Hannah's hand, completely understanding the power of a mother's love for her child. "I was going to bring your hat, but Hannah's taken a liking to it and if you don't mind-"

"She can keep it as long as she likes. I've got plenty."

"Thanks. Once she has her own cowgirl hat, I'm sure she'll be willing to let it go."

"No worry."

Hannah suddenly jerked her hand free of Lauren's fingers and pointed at the front porch. "Look!" She ran down the stone walkway, up the steps, and flattened herself against the pink front door, arms outstretched as if caressing the door.

Lauren exchanged a puzzled look with Kent, then glanced back at her child. "What is it?"

"It's the best door ever!" Hannah hollered. "We match!"

Kent chuckled, taking hold of Lauren's hand, entwining their fingers, and leading her up the walkway. "She's a doll."

"Thanks. She can be a mess, too."

"That's good. Real good," Kent said, smiling.

When they reached the stairs, Hannah whipped around and flattened her body against the door with her arms outstretched again. "Mommy, will you take my picture? I bet I disappear into this door."

Lauren laughed as she stepped up to the porch, pulled out her phone, and snapped several quick shots.

"Thanks!" Hannah twirled around before she bounded over to Lauren. "Let's see."

Lauren held out her phone so all three of them could see Hannah in pink against pink. "You look adorable."

Hannah pushed back her long, blond hair and grinned at Kent. "Your door is the best."

"Thanks." Kent smiled at her. "You and that door are quite the sight for sore eyes."

Hannah appeared puzzled, c.o.c.king her head to one side. "Do your eyes hurt?"

Kent chuckled. "No. That's an old-fashioned saying that means you and the door look good together."

She rolled her big, brown eyes, and then she nodded with a great deal of skepticism.

Lauren couldn't help but laugh. "You'll be learning lots of new, colorful sayings now that we're in Wildcat Bluff."

Hannah glanced from Lauren to Kent then back again as if judging if they were funning her or not.

"She's right. Scout's honor." Kent quickly held up two fingers in a Scout's honor salute, then crossed his heart with the same two fingers.

"Okay." Hannah obviously lost interest. "Mommy, can we have a pink door when we get our new home?"

"I don't know. We'll see." Lauren hated to disappoint her daughter, but she never made promises she couldn't keep.

"You can use my pink door any time you like," Kent said.

Hannah grinned, revealing small, white teeth. "I like this place!"

"I've always loved it here," Lauren said wistfully. "Only I don't remember the pink front door."

Kent laughed and held up his boot mug. "Goes with the mug. Not my choice, but I'm learning to live with it."

Lauren felt a sudden heaviness in her heart. She couldn't imagine him letting anybody paint that door pink unless it was somebody he loved like his former fiancee. But she couldn't let that get in the way of Hannah's happiness-or her own, for that matter. They just needed to move forward from here.

"A swing!" Hannah launched herself across the porch and leaped onto the swing. She lay flat on her back and kicked her legs into the air, setting the swing to rocking back and forth. "Best house in the whole, wide world!"

When Kent put an arm around Lauren's shoulders and pulled her close, she leaned into him just like old times.

"Remember how we used to swing there after school?" he asked.

"And neck-isn't that the old-fashioned term-at night?"

"That's right. Only now I don't have to get you home by ten on weeknights." He tightened his grip on her shoulder. "You could stay all night every night."

Lauren shivered as chills swept through her. What would it be like to be out here on the ranch alone with Kent in his big bed as she'd imagined so many times when she was sweet sixteen? Only now there were no parents, no school, no curfews, and she knew exactly how delicious a night in his arms could be. When a wicked blaze swept through her at the thought of joining Kent under his covers, she felt her skin ignite in moist heat.

Kent squeezed her shoulder as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. "Think Ruby would watch Hannah if you came out here one evening? I grill a mean steak."

If Lauren had been hot before, now she was on fire. It was as if he'd read her mind, or maybe he'd always imagined her in his bed out here, too.

"Kisses!" Hannah leaped off the swing and raced over to them. She held up her face toward Kent. "I love kisses as much as I love pink doors."

"I love little girls more than pink doors." Kent leaned down and gave Hannah's cheek a gentle kiss.

"You do?" Hannah beamed from Kent to Lauren. "Pink door. Kisses. Only thing better is a pony."

Lauren chuckled, shaking her head. "Incorrigible."