He stopped, knowing he didn't have a choice. He couldn't just slip past her.

"Your receptionist told me I'd probably find you out here."

He glanced back at the building behind him. "I'm usually at the barn."

Julianne shifted her stance. She still wore the jeans and the simple T-shirt she'd sported earlier. But her

hair, that scarlet, spellbinding hair, blew gloriously in the wind. "I owe you an apology."

"No, you don't." He jammed his hands into his pockets, thinking how small she was, just a sprite of a

woman.

"But I was rude to you," she said.

"That's all right. I had it coming."

"That isn't true." She paused, took a breath. "It was a misunderstanding. I saw your ring and I a.s.sumed

you were still married."

"Oh." Taken aback, he kept his hands in his pockets. He couldn't explain why he wore the wedding

bandSharonhad given him. He couldn't admit the truth, not to anyone but himself. "That was a logical deduction, Ms. McKenzie."

"Julianne," she corrected. "I'm so sorry about your wife."

Everything inside him went still. Dead still. He would never forget the pain and guilt that taintedSharon's

memory. "Thank you."

"I'm divorced," she offered.

"Is that good or bad?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't decided yet."

"So what brought you toTexas?" he asked, trying to ease into a simpler conversation.

"My birthday."

She made a sour face, and he found himself smiling. "That bad, huh?"

"I'll be forty."

He'd suspected as much. Although she wore her age well, he could see the maturity in her eyes, in her

gestures. "You'll survive. I did. Two-and-half years ago."

"You're a man. Gray hair looks good on your gender."

And all those brilliant Irish locks looked incredible on her. "Come on. I'll walk you back to the lodge."

She gave him a suspicious look. "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"I'm headed that way. And I a.s.sume you barely got a chance to relax. Besides, I think you left your cane

in the lobby. And your granny gla.s.ses. Oh, and those dowdy housedresses old ladies wear. I'm sure I

saw one in your suitcase." "Very funny." She b.u.mped his arm and started toward the lodge. "My cousins are going to have an over-the-hill party for me."

"Black balloons? A cake with a tombstone on it?"

"Exactly." She stopped, gazed up at him. "What did you do on your fortieth birthday?"

He tried not to flinch. He'd been emotionally ill that day, churning about the condition of his body. He

remembered throwing his prosthesis across the cabin and smashing a lamp to smithereens. Although he deserved to be punished for what he'd done toSharon, the constant reminder wasn't easy to bear. Particularly on the birthday she'd been teasing him about but hadn't lived to see.

"Quite truthfully, turning forty sucked."

Julianne laughed. "Now there's a man after my own heart."

He laughed, too. Even though he could still feel the loss, the fear, the pain from that depressing birthday.

"I hated every minute of it."

"Then I guess that makes you my forty-support buddy."

"Yeah, I guess it does," he agreed. "After all, no one should have to go through it alone."

"Amen to that." She sighed, lifted her face to the sun. "And no one should have to be subjected to a

cake with a tombstone on it."

Or bury a wife, he thought.

They continued in silence, pa.s.sing several large barbecue grills, a host of shaded picnic benches and the

chef's organic garden.

When they reached the lodge, Bobby pointed to the parking lot. "I'm going that way."

"Oh, okay. I think I'll book my first horseback-riding lesson for tomorrow. Should I do that at the reception desk?"

He nodded. "Guess who your instructor will be?"

"You?" she asked. "My forty-support buddy?"

"Yep." He tipped his hat. "Ancient cowboy at your service."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow, old man."

"You got it."

He walked to his truck and then stopped to glance over his shoulder, to catch one more glimpse of her hair. But she was already gone, already out of sight.

He reached for his keys, wondering what Julianne McKenzie would say if he told her the truth about his wife.

That Sharon Elk had put her faith in him on the night she'd died.

On the night he'd killed her.

Chapter 2.

Julianne sat on the edge of a rolling-pin bed, poring over a color brochure.

Her room at the lodge, artistically crafted from oak beams and plastered limestone, offered a cedar chest, a cypress table andmultipaned windows.

The architecture, she read, was inspired by the German immigrants who'd originally settled in the Texas Hill Country, but the colorful baskets and clay pottery represented the Elk family's Cherokee roots. Curious to know more, she scanned the back of the brochure, hoping to learn more about Bobby's family, but the rest of the information centered on the ranch.

"So, what did he say?"

Julianne glanced up. Kay sat at the table, watching her with a keen eye. Her cousins were staying in the room next door, but they seemed determined to remain by her side, probing her for details about Bobby Elk.

"He accepted my apology."

"And?" Kay prompted.

"And we talked about my birthday. About coping with turning forty. He seemed to understand how I feel."

"Did you tell him you were divorced?"

Julianne nodded. "I mentioned it."

"We think he's perfect for you." Kay shot a gleaming grin at Mern. She, too, sat at the table, but she wasn't nearly as devilish as the dark-haired Kay. Mern behaved like the innocent partner in crime, with her ladylike mannerisms and angelic gold locks. She merely inclined her head, waiting for Julianne's reaction.

Just her luck. Her cousins, who used to drive her to distraction when they were kids, had decided to play matchmakers. "And just how am I supposed to date him? I'm only going to be here for a week."

Kay spoke up again. "We were thinking more along the lines of a fling. Something fast, fulfilling and fun."