"I remember."

"When are you planning to get to the wedding vows and forever-after part of our understanding?"

"I'm working on her."

"Well, if you love the girl, kick it in the ass."

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "Would you repeat that, just for clarification?"

"Don't press your luck. And for the record, you're a dead man if you don't marry her afterward. Clear?"

Ryan chuckled. "I read you. No worries, Jake."

Seducing a woman like Bethany called for careful planning. Ryan preferred to stage the seduction scene at his place. Less risk of being interrupted that way. He didn't want one of her brothers dropping in to check on her right in the middle of everything. He could warn his own family not to come over or telephone, threat of death.

He had hoped to put off bringing Bethany out to see the ranch for another week. Her saddle still hadn't arrived, and he didn't have her treadmill set up yet. But, oh, well. Desperate situations called for desperate measures. Circles under her eyes. Oh, yeah. He'd gotten under her skin. Now all that remained was to reap his reward.

That afternoon Ryan called the store and invited Bethany out to his place for dinner that night. She sounded distracted and weary, and for a moment, Ryan was afraid she was going to turn him down.

"There's something special I want to show you," he quickly inserted.

"Well . . . all right. I've been meaning to talk to you about something. Maybe it's just as well I do it there." He didn't like the sound of that. "Hey," he said softly. "Is something wrong?" "Not wrong, exactly. It's-complicated. I'll talk to you tonight. All right? Is six-thirty okay?" "Six-thirty is fine." Ryan frowned as he broke the connection. She'd been meaning to talk to him about something? That had "Dear John" written all over it. Son of a bitch. He rubbed his brow. The headache he'd been battling since Jake's phone call that morning was growing worse. No worries. He loved her, and he knew damned well she cared for him. If she was thinking about not seeing him anymore, he'd be able to talk her out of it. He took some ibuprofen, gathered up all his dirty socks and the scattered newspapers in the family room, and then took two steaks out of the freezer to thaw. That done, he made for the shower.

With his aching head shoved under the jets of hot water, Ryan was able to think more clearly, and he began to plan his strategy. He definitely wanted to look sharp, but at the same time, he didn't want to overdo it. He'd be grilling the steaks himself. Nothing too fancy. He should dress accordingly. He decided to wear pressed black jeans, a long-sleeved black shirt, and a pair of black dress boots polished to shine like glass. Women went for black. Why he had no idea, but he wasn't about to mess with what worked. Not tonight.

Did all guys feel sort of sick before they popped the question? His stomach felt like a wet sock being turned inside out. He angled an arm over the tile and rested his aching head on the back of his wrist. He hadn't felt nervous like this over a female in years. After his green wore off and he'd gotten a little experience under his belt, he'd always just figured, "What the hell," and hadn't really worried about how he looked or what he should say.

Falling in love was a real bitch. She was late. Ryan glanced at his watch. Six-thirty-two, and ticking. Only two minutes late. No big deal. It was a long drive from town, and people didn't always time it exactly right. She'd be here.

He paced. Through the kitchen, into the great room. Around the sofa. Past the slider. Quick stop to gaze out at the road. He'd be able to see her coming around the lake long before she got here. Back into the kitchen. He checked the steaks for the umpteenth time to make sure they were thawed. Opened the new low-profile refrigerator to stare at the salad he'd tossed. Still there, still green.

He sighed and stepped to the new universal-level sink to scrub the potatoes a little more. Looked out the window again. Where was she? Damn. His stomach squeezed. He passed a hand over his eyes. He went back over everything he could remember saying to her over the past few days. As far as he knew, he'd done nothing, nothing, to make her want to stop seeing him.

He glimpsed her gray van through the trees just then. His heart pitched and did a funny little dance in his chest, making him worry he was about to have a heart attack. He took a deep breath, realized he was sweating, and called himself a thousand kinds of idiot. Never let them see you sweat.

He'd wait inside, he decided. If he went out on the porch, he'd look too eager. He no sooner concluded that than he was stepping outside. So ... he was eager. Big deal. He wanted to marry the girl. She was it for him. No harm in letting her know how he felt.

She parked on the cement pad he'd had poured between the stable and the house. Then she just sat there and stared. Ryan walked down the wheelchair ramp he'd added onto the kitchen porch, then moved along the walkway toward her, wearing a smile that felt carved into his face. He lifted a hand in greeting.

When she finally rolled down her window, he said, "Hi, there."

She fixed him with those huge blue eyes. Her face was so white it looked damned near bloodless. "Oh, Ryan, what have you done?" she cried.

Somehow, he didn't think she was any too happy. This wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping to get, to say the least. Wow would have been nice. He glanced around, swallowed. It was on the tip of his tongue to explain what he'd done, but then it struck him how stupid that would be. He had obviously built her wheelchair paths all over hell's creation.

"How do you like it?" he settled for asking. "You can even go down to the lake and follow the shore for quite a ways in either direction."

Her face went even paler, accentuating the dark circles under her eyes that Jake had mentioned. "Oh, God. What have you done?"

Ryan had had a few days in his life when he'd wondered if he wouldn't have been better off never getting out of bed. This was shaping up to be one of them. At the sound of her voice, a horse inside the stable started whinnying and screaming and kicking its stall. Ryan didn't have to go check to see which horse it was. Hell He'd been hoping to surprise her with Wink a little later in the evening. There was such a thing as hitting someone with too much at once.

But, no. The horse recognized her voice. Incredible. It had been eight years. Eight frigging years. Most horses had long memories, but in his recollection, he'd never heard of one recognizing someone's voice after so long.

Bethany glanced bewilderedly toward the stable. "What on earth is the matter in there?"

It sounded like the stable was about to fold like a house of cards. Ryan followed her gaze and rubbed his jaw. "It's nothing." He hoped Sly was still around and would do something to settle Wink down. Fast. "We have a new mare in there. She gets a little-"

Wink grunted three times and whinnied excitedly. Ryan had never heard the horse make that particular succession of noises before, but he recognized horse love talk when he heard it. His stomach did a slow revolution, and he could only pray Bethany didn't make the connection.

"Wink?" she whispered. She started tearing at the driver's door to exit the van. "Wink!" She fixed a tear-filled, incredulous gaze on Ryan as she extended the lift. "That's my horse!" Ryan thought, Well, hell... He puffed air into his cheeks. "Nothing like hitting you with all your surprises at once. I, um ... bought her back for you." She moved her chair out onto the platform, set the brake, and then lowered the lift to the pad. "You what?"

Just in case she hadn't heard him, he repeated himself.

"You what?" she said again.

Ryan wasn't going to say it a third time. She moved her chair off the lift onto the cement and took off like a shot for the stable. Ryan followed, almost wishing that he could stop her from going inside. But, no. He'd paved the way, so to speak.

At the entrance she braked to a sudden stop, stared for a moment at the wide asphalt alley that stretched, straight as a bullet, the length of the center aisle to the double, cross-buck doors that opened onto the riding arena. Before each stall, a lip of asphalt with a sloped edge extended out, making the hasp of the gate accessible to someone in a wheelchair.

"Oh, Ryan," she whispered shakily.

Standing slightly back and to one side, he could see a tear rolling down her pale cheek. About halfway up the aisle, Wink thrust her head out over the stall gate, the whites showing around her eyes, her nostrils flared as she snorted the air. She made the three grunting sounds again and whinnied eagerly. It was clearly a greeting for Bethany alone. Gazing at the horse, Bethany made a low, keening sound, then covered her face with her hands.

"Oh, God, Ryan, why did you do this?" She dropped her hands and whirled on him. "Just friends, you said. No risks, no expectations!" With every word, her voice grew shriller. "Jake sold Wink for twenty-five thousand. I know Hun-sacker wouldn't have let her go for a cent less than that. How much did you pay for her?"

Ryan swiped a hand over his mouth, Instead of feeling like her hero, as he'd imagined he might, he felt like he'd committed a crime. "The money isn't important, honey."

"It is important! And don't call me honey!"

"Bethany, I-"

"How much?" she demanded.

"Thirtyish," he admitted. "That's peanuts, Bethany. I've paid over a hundred for a nice horse without batting an eye." "Thirtyish?" She stared up at him in appalled amazement. "And what does the ish stand for?" "Six. "Thirty-six thousand?" She passed a hand over her eyes. She was shaking. Shaking horribly. "I can't believe you did this. I can't believe it! I can't ever pay it back. Not ever."

"I don't expect you to pay me back."

She stared at him with an accusing look in her eyes. Just stared at him as if she'd never seen him before. After what seemed like a small eternity, she spoke, her voice flat and hollow. "It's all been a lie from the very first, hasn't it? You never intended for us to be just friends. You lied so I'd continue to see you."

Ryan thought about lying again. At the moment that seemed like the wisest choice. Admitting the truth didn't strike him as a brilliant move. "Yeah," he said softly. "I sort of lied, I guess. Actually, it depends on how you define love and friendship, sweetheart. Can you really have one without the other?" He shrugged, doing his best to look reasonable. "I don't think so. An intimate relationship without a wonderful friendship isn't love or anything close to it. Been there, done that, and trust me, it has no meaning."

She hugged her waist and sat back in her chair, flinching when Wink kicked her stall door again and shrieked. She closed her eyes, and the muscles in her face drew taut. "I told you from the first, Ryan. I didn't color it. We can never be more than friends. Never. And I planned to tell you tonight that even the friendship isn't working for me."

"Why, for God's sake?" She lifted her lashes and fixed him with those beautiful blue eyes he'd loved since the moment he first looked into them. A deep, vivid blue so clear it could hide nothing, especially pain-the kind of pain that ran too deep for tears and hurt so much, it couldn't be expressed with words.

"I can't be what you need," she whispered.

She circled around him and headed for her van. Ryan gazed after her for a moment. Then he struck out after her. "Bethany, can we discuss this?" "There's nothing to discuss." He caught up with her just as she reached the lift. She rolled her chair up onto the ramp, raised it to move inside the van, and then positioned herself behind the steering wheel. He watched in silence as she hit the control to retract the chair lift and bent to fasten the restraints.

"So, you're just going to leave. Is that it?"

"Yes," she said softly, and shut the door.

Ryan hooked his arms over the edge of the window opening and leaned inside. "And I'm supposed to just let you go?" "You don't have a choice." When she reached to start the engine, he snaked out a hand and grabbed her wrist. "I outweigh you by a hundred and twenty pounds. That carries the vote."

She threw him a startled look. "Let go of me, Ryan."

"Not until I've said my piece," he bit out.

She twisted her arm free. "Nothing you say will change my mind."

Ryan knew he was about to lose his temper. At the back of his mind, warning bells went off. But he was past caring. "Fine, then!" he bit out. "Run away, Bethany. It's what you're good at. Right? That's all you've done for the past eight years is bury your feelings and run away."

That got her attention. She turned to look at him, at least. Nose to nose with her, he glared back. "All this time, I figured you for having a backbone. I guess I was wrong. You didn't just lose the use of your legs in that riding accident. You lost your guts."

She flinched as if he slapped her. "That isn't fair."

"Fair? Are we playing fair, here? I'm sorry. I guess I missed it. I'm in love with you, damn it!" He swung his arm to encompass the ranch. "I've busted my ass for damned near a month, revamping my place to show you we can have a life together. Instead of being glad-instead of having the guts to at least give it a try-you're running! The truth is, I scare you to death. Good old Paul, back to haunt us. You're afraid of getting hurt, and you're too big a coward to take that chance."

"That isn't true!" she cried. "I'm doing this for you!" Tears rushed to her eyes. "You're just too blind to see it!" Her face twisted, and she cupped a shaking hand over her brow. "I love you."

"You have a hell of a way of showing it."

"It's the only way to show it! Do you think I don't want all this?" Her voice went thin. "That it's easy for me to turn my back on it? I want it so bad I can taste it! You're offering me everything! Everything I ever wanted, ever dreamed of, a life with you, being part of your world! Oh, God. Even Wink! You even bought my horse back!"

The agony in those words made Ryan's stomach drop. His flare of temper went out like a candlewick, dashed with a gallon of ice water. He was guilty as charged. He had tried to make all her dreams come true. He'd worked and planned and then worked some more, creating a world expressly for her-so she could go wherever she wanted, when she wanted-so she could be around horses and ride again-so she could visit the wilderness whenever she wished.

Looking at it all through her eyes, he tried to imagine how hard it would be to turn his back and drive away if he were in her shoes. He wasn't sure he'd be able to. He'd seen the yearning in her expression so many times-a bone-deep yearning for all the things she'd loved and lost-which was precisely why he'd tried so hard to give all those things back to her.

Yet she was prepared to leave ... to simply turn her back on all of it, even on the horse that whinnied and called to her now-a horse that still remembered her and adored her after eight long years. It stood to reason that Bethany probably returned the animal's devotion in equal measure.

Yet she was still going to leave ...

Ryan's throat closed off, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. There was only one reason she would go when she yearned to stay. She honestly believed it was the best thing for him. This wasn't about her at all. It had never been about her. And she was right; he'd been too blind to see it.

"Oh, Bethany," he whispered. "I'm sorry." He hooked a hand over the back of her neck and drew her face to his shoulder. "I shouldn't have said any of that. I didn't mean it."

Her hands knotted on his shirt, and she shuddered as a sob tore up from deep within her. "I-can't-be -what you need, Ryan! No babies. Never any babies. M-maybe never any decent sex! I m-might die really young. And I c-can't be a g-good rancher's wife. I'd be a b-burden to you a-and everyone else!"

Ryan made a fist in her hair and drew her closer. "Sweetheart, no. Listen to me. Are you listening?"

She made a mewling sound and nearly choked, trying to hold back her sobs.

"I love you!" he said fiercely. "If we can't have babies, we'll adopt."

"It's not the s-same! Not for a man. And they might not approve me! You should have a f-family. You were meant to be a father. Just seeing y-you with T-bone, I knew that. You have so much love to give."

"Sweetheart, we'll have a family. You want a dozen kids? Fine. We can go through a private agency. I've already put out some feelers to find out which ones are reputable. And who says it's not the same? I'll love adopted children just as much as I would my own."

"You say that now. How will you f-feel when you're older?"

"The same. If I can't have babies with you, I'll never have them with anyone. I may be a single father and adopt kids without you, but there's never going to be another woman. You're it for me." "That's s-silly. You don't mean it." "Oh, but I do." Ryan turned his face against her hair. "I mean it, Bethany. With all my heart." "Even if I can't give you good sex?" "We won't know about that until we try. Maybe it'll be great, maybe it won't. We'll find a way, bottom line, some way that gives us both pleasure."

"Why should you s-settle for that?"

"Settle? Bethany, I love you. I've followed a hundred dead ends, searching for you. Not a single one of those women ever meant a hill of beans to me. Just you. I'm not settling, damn it. If I could rope the moon and have any woman on earth I wanted, I'd choose you."

"Aren't you hearing anything I've said? People like me live on borrowed time. Health risks, things we can't prevent! I could get a blood clot next week and die on you. There you'd be, with a dozen adopted kids and no wife to help raise them. No! I won't do that to you. I won't!"

Ryan tightened his hold on her, terrified in that moment that he'd lose her if he turned her loose. "Then, at least stay with me 'til next week," he whispered raggedly. "Let me have the seven days. Maybe I'll get lucky, and there'll be another week after that, and another week after that. Let me have what there is. Stay with me as long as you can. I'll let you go when God takes you, and I'll be thankful for every second He gives me, but I can't let you go like this."

"You're crazy."

"Yeah. You got that right. Crazy about you. Give me what you can. No one has any guarantees, Bethany. No one. We all live on borrowed time. And you know what else?" "No, what?" she asked shakily. "You won't die on me. Forget that, lady. I won't let it happen. I'll watch your diet. I'll have you on a treadmill every blessed day, and I'll help you exercise your leg muscles in other ways to prevent blood clots. Plus I'll have you working on this ranch, staying active. You aren't going to die young, not on my watch."

She started to cry again, this time as if her heart were breaking. Ryan slipped his other arm inside the van to loop it around her, then hauled her close against him. He knew he'd won when she stopped resisting him and clung to his neck.

He simply held her for a while, allowing her to cry. He had a feeling these were tears that had been eight years in the making, that she'd held them back for far too long as it was. When at last her sobs began to subside, he ran a hand over her slender back and whispered, "I love you. You can't change that, Bethany. Done deal. And if you run from it, you're going to destroy my life. Can you live with that on your conscience?"

She laughed wetly, the sound muffled against his shirt.

"Give me right now," he urged. "No guarantees. I accept that, and I'll take my chances. Just give me the time you can. Will you do that? Please?"

"Oh, Ryan ... how can I say no?"

"Now you're talkin'."

A shudder ran through her, and she sighed raggedly. "I guess we can give it a try," she whispered. "At least until we see how the sex goes."

Red alert Ryan tucked in his chin to look down at her. "No trial runs."

She raised her head to stare at him with huge, tear-drenched eyes that made him feel as if he was drowning in wet velvet. "But, Ryan, it might be awful No promises. No commitments. Not until we know." Though it was the most difficult thing he'd ever done in his life, Ryan grasped her by the shoulders and set her away from him. "No way, lady. If that's all you're offering me, I pass."

She blinked and rubbed at her cheeks. "What?"

"You heard me. All or nothing. No conditions. You either come into this for better or worse, or it's a deal breaker. I want you to marry me." "But-" "No buts. When people love each other, really love each other, they take the lemons and make lemonade. I won't settle for less. I want a woman who'll stand by me and stay with me, no matter what."

"You're the one who'll be stuck with a lemon!"

"How do you know? I could be the world's most rotten lover."

She swiped at her cheeks again, looking bewildered. "That's dumb."

"I've had a few complaints." He took a step back from the van. "Mostly not, but there you go. No telling how you'll feel about it. And what's the guarantee that things will remain status quo? Men get hurt and they get sick. A year from now, I could become impotent and unable to make love to you at all. You gonna hightail it then?" He backed up another step. "Thanks, but no thanks. I want promises, and I want commitments. If that's not what you're offering, I pass."

Her eyes turned a dark, stormy blue, and her brows drew together in a scowl. "This is stupid, Ryan. I'm giving you an out."

"Thank you. That's very sweet, but I don't want an out." He braced his feet wide apart, folded his arms, and studied her, smiling slightly. "Well? You going or staying?" He glanced around them. "It's gonna be hell to pay if you go. I never will live all this down, and concrete's pretty damned hard to rip up."