A gust of wind buffeted both of them. Taking advantage of its cold blast, she shuddered. "It's positively freezing. I don't suppose you would have time to buy a girl a cup of coffee, would you?"

"I think it could be arranged."

The cafe Ty chose was in the Stockyards District, not far from the cemetery. Personally Tara would have picked a trendier spot than this over-the-top cowboy-themed cafe that catered mainly to the tourists. But the abundance of empty tables suited her purposes, creating a privacy and intimacy that she might not have attained in other places where she would have been more readily recognized and their conversation possibly interrupted.

With her usual skill, Tara made sure that she became the subject under discussion. She was well aware that Ty pitied her. If pity was the only emotion she aroused in him, then she was determined to use it.

"I was there when Daddy died. Did you know?"

"No." His expression softened with deepening sympathy.

"He was gone so quick, there wasn't anything anyone could do. The heart attack was massive and sudden. He collapsed and I screamed. In those few seconds it took to rush to him, it was over and he was dead. I keep telling myself that I'm glad he didn't suffer long, but-" Tara broke off the rest of the sentence, punctuating it with a vague shrug and a teary-eyed smile.

"At least you were with him," Ty offered.

"Yes." She nodded. "These last few months, Daddy looked so tired. I tried to get him to slow down, but he wouldn't listen. It's clear now that he knew he wasn't well. Possibly he even knew that he didn't have much longer. Maybe that's why he pushed himself so hard lately. He wanted to get his affairs in order. Isn't that a horrible phrase-'get his affairs in order'? I despise it," Tara declared.

"I'm sure he did it for you."

"I know. And the lawyers tell me that he succeeded admirably. As far as the business side goes, I have minimum responsibilities, and absolutely no financial worries, personally. My time and money are my own now. Unfortunately I'm not sure what to do with either of them. Life looks so empty right now."

"That's to be expected," Ty assured her. "But later on, you'll find plenty of things to do, places to go, parties to give."

Tara wondered if he truly believed she was that frivolous. Had he forgotten that she had never entertained anyone without a purpose? Not even now.

"Logic tells me you're right. But at the moment, the future looks horribly bleak-and much too depressing to talk about anymore. Tell me about the ranch. What's going on there? Has your father acquired title to that Wolf Meadow land yet?"

"We're working on it."

"Dealing with the government is never easy. Even though he was very good at it, Daddy hated it. He said it was always such a hassle. Just about the time you had a deal struck, there would be an election and a big shuffling of people. Suddenly, there you were with a brand new person in charge and you had to start almost from the beginning."

"We've run into our share of that," Ty admitted, but didn't elaborate. Tara recalled a time when he would have discussed his problems in detail with her. But he was being as close-mouthed as his father about them now.

"The environmental lobby is very strong right now, too. That has to be an obstacle as well."

"They have definitely been among the opposition."

After a moment's pause, Tara chose not to pursue the subject. "It's good to talk about things like this-for me, anyway. It gets my mind off things," she said, determined not to give him the impression she was probing for information. "At the hotel, you mentioned you had someplace you needed to be. As I recall, you only flew to Texas when you were in the market for a bull or some brood mares. So, which is it this time?"

Ty smiled, revealing that he was comfortable with this subject. "Actually, it's neither."

"Really?" Tara lifted the coffee mug to her lips, peering curiously over the rim at him.

"We're considering holding private auctions for our registered livestock. Since I was here in Texas, I thought I would scout out the kinds of facilities other ranchers use for theirs."

Eyes widening, Tara lowered the mug, her interest piqued. "Some of those private sales are incredibly lavish affairs, private jets flying in from all over the country. They are almost as much social events as they are buying sprees." She hesitated, deliberately. "I don't know how to say this, Ty, but-this doesn't sound like the kind of thing that would meet with your father's approval."

His mouth slanted in a crooked smile. "He isn't all that keen on the idea. But if the preliminary figures we've run are only half right, the profit margin could still be staggering, more than enough to warrant being temporarily inconvenienced."

"When is your first sale scheduled? I would love to come."

"That's at least a year or two away. We still need to determine the type of facility that's required, design and build it, plus have plenty of advance time to promote the sale."

"It sounds exciting." Tara itched to get in the middle of it all. Maybe she could. She took a sip of her coffee and thought about that.

"We really aren't far enough along to have a timetable. Personally, I think we'll be lucky if we have plans drawn for the building by fall. More than likely, it will be next winter. It's more important to build it right, than to build it in a hurry."

Tara injected all the right questions in all the right places to keep Ty talking about the project, gleaning every kernel of information and filing it away for future use. Where Ty was concerned, no information was too trivial.

It wouldn't be easy to insinuate herself into his life again. But Tara never doubted for a moment that she would ultimately succeed. If not one way, then another. Possibly, both. That prospect made her smile.

A summer wind blew through the pickup's opened windows, its air laden with the scent of ripening grasses. Jessy turned her face to it, breathing in the smells. The land rolled away from the dirt road, big, wide, and empty. There was nothing to be seen but earth and sky for miles upon miles upon miles.

Behind the wheel, Ty slid his glance in her direction. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"What makes you think they aren't worth any more than that?" Jessy challenged lightly.

"Because, if I had to guess, I'd say that you were thinking about the twins."

Jessy released a heavy sigh of admission. "Sally will have her hands full, trying to take care of those two."

"She has Dad to help her. They'll manage."

"I know, but Laura has become such an old fussbudget lately. You know how she pitches a fit if she gets the least little bit of dirt on her. Heaven forbid if you accidentally miss her mouth with the spoon and smear baby food on her face. And ever since Trey learned to crawl, he shoots out of sight the instant you turn your back."

"He just likes to explore," Ty said in his son's defense, then conceded, "He is quick as lightning though."

"Imagine what it will be like when he starts walking." As fast as their son disappeared now, that thought was enough to make Jessy shudder.

"What about Laura?" Ty countered. "Can you imagine Miss Priss toddling around the ranchyard? I'm still surprised she didn't scream her head off when Dad took her for a horseback ride."

"She actually liked it, didn't she?" Jessy took comfort from that. "She smiled and laughed-and even patted the horse. Up to then, I was beginning to wonder if she was really my daughter."

"I wouldn't worry about that."

"I won't, but the thought has crossed my mind a time or two." Jessy relaxed against the seatback, smiling at the memories. But it wasn't long before her uneasiness returned. "I still think it would be a good idea if we get home early. Just in case."

"Not a chance." Ty slowed the pickup as they approached an intersecting ranch road. "We aren't going home until the cows do."

"But-"

"No buts. It's our anniversary, and we are going to do it up right. Okay?"

She looked at him for a long second, all of her instincts protesting the plan. Then everything smoothed out inside. "Okay," Jessy agreed.

"What? No more arguments?" Ty eyed her skeptically.

"No more arguments," she promised. "I just remembered something my mother told me when the twins were about a month old."

"And what was that?"

"She said there were times to be a mother and times to be a wife. And I just realized this is one of those times to be a wife."

"Wise woman." Ty swung the pickup, making a right turn onto the intersecting road.

Jessy sat up, noting the change of direction. "What's this? Are you taking a scenic route to town?"

"Something like that." A smile tugged at a corner of his mouth, arousing her suspicions.

"Exactly where are we going, Ty Calder?"

"It's a surprise."

And one he was very pleased about, she could tell.

Within minutes, Jessy guessed their destination. "You're taking me to the old Stanton cabin." She gazed at the log structure's low roofline, visible among the cottonwood trees that grew along the nearby riverbank. Years ago, she had lived in it when Ty was first married to Tara.

"Now if I was doing this right, you would be riding behind my saddle, just like you were the first time when you invited me in for coffee."

"You remember." She was moved by that.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Ty slowed the pickup as they approached the narrow track to the cabin. "This is where we fell in love."

"It's where you fell in love, maybe," Jessy corrected. "For me, it was the calving sheds. I was about ten years old and you were sixteen."

"That long ago." Ty frowned in surprise. "You never told me that."

"You never asked," she replied with a fetching smugness.

The cabin's driveway was little more than twin tire tracks with grass growing between them. Just as Jessy noticed the vehicle already parked beside the cabin, Cat came out the door.

Jessy cast an accusing glance at Ty. "What is this? A family conspiracy?"

"Something like that," he admitted and parked the pickup next to Cat's truck.

When they climbed out of the pickup, Cat greeted them with a hurried, "Sorry, I thought I would be gone before you got here. I left you a note inside," she said, backing toward her own vehicle. "Your dinner is in the oven. It should be done in about"-she checked her watch-"twenty-five minutes. If Logan should call looking for me, tell him I'm going to run by the Shamrock and look in on Uncle Culley before I head home."

"He's not there," Ty stated.

That stopped Cat. "Who isn't?"

"O'Rourke." With a nod of his head, he directed her attention to a spot beyond the trees. On the other side of the riverbank, partially obscured by the trunks of the cottonwood trees, a horse and rider watched them.

"I should have known Uncle Culley would follow me." Cat's voice carried a trace of sadness. "Funny, isn't it? I can't convince him to live with us. But he's always close by, somewhere in the shadows."

"He's in no shape to be skulking around like a coyote." It was a habit of O'Rourke's that Ty had never particularly liked, conscious that the man was obsessively devoted to his sister.

"Tell him that." Cat's smile was full of skepticism over the likelihood her uncle would listen.

"How is he?" Jessy asked with sincere concern.

Cat sighed. "He hardly sleeps at all and doesn't eat right. I guess you could say he's back to normal." She lifted her shoulders in a what-can-you-do shrug and moved again toward her truck. "Enjoy yourselves. And remember." Cat pointed to Ty. "You owe me one."

He waved in acknowledgment then spread his hand over the small of Jessy's back. "Shall we?" He nodded toward the cabin.

Her gaze wandered over the old building, memories flooding back as they moved toward it. "Hasn't this been sitting empty for a while?"

"Nearly two years," Ty replied. "Long enough that it took two full days to get it cleaned up and everything in running order again." He opened the door, then stepped back to let her enter first.

The cabin was small, just three rooms, with white plastered walls and chintz curtains at the windows. The simple fireplace, the old sofa, everything looked almost the same as when she'd lived in it except for the old kitchen table.

A gleaming white tablecloth, the best china and crystal from The Homestead, a pair of silver candlesticks, and a colorful bouquet of flowers had transformed it into an elegant table set for two. Jessy stared at it, tears welling in her eyes.

"Happy Anniversary," Ty murmured, then steered her to the table and stepped forward to light the candles. "A few years back, right here in this house, you told me something that I have never forgotten. You said, even though you could ride like a man and work like a man, that didn't mean you didn't like flowers and candy."

It was then that Jessy noticed the small, beribboned box of expensive chocolates, placed next to one of the settings. Completely lost for words and too choked with emotion to utter them anyway, Jessy could only look at him.

"Cat thought there should be a bottle of Dom Perignon on ice, but I explained that coffee was our drink," Ty said. "She didn't think it was a very romantic choice."

Eyes swimming with tears, Jessy stood there for a long second, more touched by this simple gift than words could express. But she had never been good with words. By nature, she was a woman of action.

Her feet didn't feel as if they touched the ground as she crossed the space and into his arms. His mouth came down, claiming hers in a kiss, filled with that slow, deep-burning warmth that had always been between them. It was the kind that steadied rather than shook, the kind that strengthened rather than weakened, that brought boldness rather than hesitancy. That was the magic of it, and the power.

He lifted his mouth a fraction of an inch, to murmur against her lips, "Dinner won't be ready for another twenty minutes."

His breath washed over her in hot, moist waves, and the brush of his mustache was whisper-soft against her skin. In answer, Jessy slid her hands around his neck, clasping them there as she echoed the phrase she had once used on a long-ago night, "Carry me."

Ty smiled in remembrance. Bending, he scooped her into his arms and carried her that short distance into the bedroom. The slanting rays of the afternoon sun spilled through the window, falling across the bed's down-turned covers and the saucy silk-and-lace nightgown lying atop it. Over in the corner stood an overnight bag.

"Something tells me we're spending the night here," Jessy remarked when she saw it.

"You are very quick," Ty mocked as he let her feet slip to the floor.

"I try to be." Jessy turned away to face the bed. "You have planned everything extremely well except for this." She picked up the silky nightgown and tossed it on the floor. "That's where it belongs."

As Jessy reached back to unzip her dress, Ty was there, moving her hands out of the way. "Let me."

With a single downward glide of his hand, the material parted. His hands came up to slip the garment off her shoulders while he nibbled his way along the leanly muscled squareness of them, arousing evocative little shivers to dance over her skin.

They undressed with the familiarity of husbands and wives, intent on reexploring old delights. The urgency was always there, just below the surface, but it didn't push them. They made love with slow pleasure, letting passion build at its own unhurried pace to the inevitable climax.

Later they dined and drank their coffee by the flickering blaze of the fire Ty built in the fireplace after the sun sank below the horizon and the air had cooled. It was a lazy evening, reminiscing about old times and planning new ones, just the two of them alone, the way it had begun for them.

It was an easy intimacy they shared, both by the fire and in the subsequent darkness of the bedroom. Neither missed the giddiness of new love; they had found something better, something with strength and staying power. As usual, they slept tangled together, each warmed by the body heat of the other.

A bird trilled its morning call outside the cabin window, but its song was drowned out by the strident ring of the telephone. Groggily Ty rolled over and squinted a look at the light beyond the bedroom window, then fumbled around until his groping fingers located the telephone on the bedside table. He picked up the receiver, cutting short the second loud ring. Beside him, Jessy had snapped awake with a mother's instant alertness at the first sharp ring. It took her a second to remember where she was. By then Ty had answered the phone.

"Yeah. What's the problem?" He tried, but he couldn't keep all of the sleep out of his voice.