"And by your standards, did he pass or fail?" Mattie bit into her creation, but the distaste of her sister's lies dulled its flavor.

"You tell me." Jenna stole a piece of bacon from Mattie's plate. "Has Gil mentioned anything about the ranch?"

Mattie's gaze darted to her sister's mouth, and she wondered whether this was another game. When had her sister turned into such a pit bull?

"You mean his father's ranch?" Mattie got up to pour herself a cup of coffee. Her hands trembled. "He won't sell."

"I wouldn't be so sure. With a little prodding from Gil, you might be surprised what the old man's capable of, especially in his condition." Jenna rested her elbows on the table and fiddled with the sleeve of her jacket. "I know how upset that makes you. You probably dreamed of settling here with Gil and raising babies, but he'd never be satisfied on this ranch. He and I are the same that way - too confined here."

Mattie lowered her eyes and tried not to let the comment disturb her. "I guess that means you'll be flying to Texas soon." She sipped her coffee, guilt-ridden at wanting her sister gone. There was never any peace with Jenna around.

"I thought I'd spend a few days with the folks. Not that they'll be anymore interested in visiting than you've been. All they talked about at the wedding was Mattie this and Mattie that. I had to beg them to listen to my my life. They're much more concerned about yours - they always were." life. They're much more concerned about yours - they always were."

"You're wrong." Mattie pushed the curtains back and watched Gil lead his new roan mare into the barn. "The folks and I hardly ever talked." Sadness welled inside her chest as the words sank into her heart. She didn't feel close to any of her family, not her sisters, nor her parents. The last few months, she'd urged Gil to make amends with his dad. Maybe it was time she took her own advice.

"Well, whatever." Jenna stood and shrugged into her jacket. "Bridgett's the princess who can do no wrong, you're the baby who needs protection, and I'm the black sheep of the family."

Mattie watched her leave. "You don't have to be the black sheep," she said as Jenna stepped out the door.

Jenna turned and smiled. "Like I told Gil - you always see the best in people. That's probably why he loves you so much. I'll admit the thought of going after Gil again was tempting, but when I saw the way he chased after you at the wedding, I knew there wasn't any point. So I willingly concede, and I'm outta here." She blew Mattie a quick kiss and was gone.

GIL HITCHED THE RED ROAN TO A STALL AND HEARD THE HUM OF an engine and the crunch of tires on the gravel outside the barn. He prayed Jenna had left and hadn't bothered his dad about selling the property.

Too bad for her if she did. He certainly knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of his father's tirades.

Footsteps sounded behind him. Light footsteps about the size of a particular doctor's boots. "Did you and your sister have a nice chat?" he asked Mattie without turning.

"No one has nice visits with Jenna." Mattie came up beside Gil. "What about you? I supposed she convinced you to persuade John to accept her offer? You know how much your dad loves this ranch. How can you do this to him?" She went on before he had a chance to defend himself. "I want to talk to John - to discourage him from selling."

Gil smiled down at her, though tempted to bite back. "After everything I admitted at the reception, what makes you think I'm going to betray him?" He retrieved a currycomb to smooth the tangles from the horse's dark mane, unsure if he and Mattie would ever work out the knots in their relationship.

"Last night I bared my soul to you," he said. "I didn't hold anything back - not even the fact that I love you. I'm not sure what Jenna said, but you need to decide who you're going to trust, Mattie - me or her." He laid the comb down and walked away, just as he'd walked away from the three-year-old in the round pen.

No looking back.

When he reached the house, he took the porch steps two at a time and found his dad reclining in his favorite chair in the living room.

"Did Jenna visit you this morning?"

His father glanced up from his newspaper and frowned. "No, why? Was she here?"

Gil swiped the hair from his forehead, relieved he didn't have to deal with the repercussions of her visit. "She seems to be on a warpath." He checked his jeans for dirt before sitting on the edge of the couch.

"What's going on with her? I get the impression you know more than you're telling." His dad folded the newspaper and waited, his full attention on Gil. "If you're worried you'll upset me, don't be. I feel fine."

This was the moment Gil feared most - the moment when he would come clean about his past - get everything out in the open. He'd told Mattie. Now it was time to tell his dad. He needed to take this step in order to clear his conscience. Hopefully, it wouldn't totally destroy their relationship. His palms dampened with sweat.

"Jenna has her reasons for behaving the way she does." Gil wiped his hands on his jeans. "It started a long time ago, back before Frank died . . ."

GIL WAITED FOR HIS DAD TO SAY SOMETHING . . . ANYTHING TO LET him know he understood or even heard the words spoken the last twenty minutes. At this point, Gil didn't care if his dad hollered in rage. He could deal with anger and frustration. Not silence.

The man twirled his thumbs. "You've kept that hidden all these years? I thought you left the hills because you hated us."

"I've never hated you, Dad. All I ever wanted was your approval - to please you." Gil clasped his hands together. "You don't know how many times I longed to see that gleam in your eyes - the gleam you got when you looked at Frank."

"Was I that bad? I know your mama always took a shine to you . . ." His dad's lips quivered, his eyes downcast. "What happened to Frank wasn't your fault. Not that I approve of what you and Jenna did, but you can't know for sure that Frank would have let you drive his truck. If you'd been with him, I might have lost both my sons that night. I don't blame you for his death, Gil. Neither should you."

Gil knelt by his father's recliner, the way he'd done as a boy, his eyes brimming with moisture.

"What about Mattie? Does she know all this?" His dad laid his hand on Gil's shoulder.

"I told her last night, even admitted I loved her." Gil sniffed back his emotion. "She didn't take it so well."

"I don't suspect she did. Women are funny that way."

He squeezed Gil's neck and seemed at peace, despite everything Gil admitted. The two of them had never spoken so openly to one another, and Gil marveled at it all. "What about the ranch, Dad? You'll have a difficult time running this place with your heart problems. I hate the thought of leaving you, right when things are starting to be good between us."

"Then don't leave. Stay here." His dad reached for his glass of water on the end table.

"You know I want to buy that estate in California. It's a beautiful home, with lots of space and shade. There's even an indoor arena in the barn." Gil stood, hoping to increase his courage. "I want to ask Mattie to marry me, and I'd like you to come with us," he continued. "We can start all over. You can help with the horse operation and watch your grandkids grow up."

His dad took a drink and coughed. "Mattie loves these hills. What's she going to think about California?"

Gil shook his head. "It might take her a while to adjust, but she'll have an easier time with you there. What do you say, Dad? Will you come to California?"

FORTY-EIGHT.

MATTIE HUNCHED OVER HER DESK AT THE CLINIC. HER HEAD ACHED from thinking. What did Gil mean - decide who she trusted? At this moment, she wasn't sure she could trust Gil or Jenna. And certainly not her own heart. Her little beagle traipsed into the room and nestled by her boots. She bent over and picked him up as he licked her hand.

"Why can't everyone be like you?" Except for a few minor incidents when he'd chewed on her boots or some leather tack lying on the ground, the pup had been a perfect companion. Mild mannered, easy to talk to, and better than a pillow to cuddle at night. He didn't argue, either, which made her appreciate him even more. She scratched behind his floppy ears until his hind foot thumped against her thigh.

The pup stared up at her with big brown eyes. "The world would be a better place if more people were like you." She kissed his nose, and he licked her chin. Her phone chimed, and she set the beagle on the floor. She noted the caller ID on the digital display and groaned.

"Hi, Mom." Mattie's forced enthusiasm sounded less than convincing. "I guess you and Dad made it home okay after the wedding."

"That's why I'm calling." Her mother's voice resonated concern. "Your dad and I were worried about you. We saw you arguing with Gil last night. Is everything okay?"

Mattie squeezed her eyes shut. She'd caused a scene at the reception for all to discuss this morning. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine," her mother said. "Your dad wondered if you'd like to come over. Have a late lunch with us tomorrow after church. Jenna's going to be here. We can invite Bridgett and the kids, as well."

The pup gnawed on the toe of her boot, and Mattie nudged him away. "I don't know . . ." Although a part of her wanted to be closer to her parents, she didn't care to see Jenna again so soon. "Can I get back to you, Mom? I'm pretty swamped at work right now."

Swamped with worries.

"Sure, but we'd love to see you, Mattie. We never get a chance to talk anymore - you're always so busy." Her mother sighed on the other end, and Mattie's irritation grew. "You know you can talk to us about anything."

"I appreciate that, Mom. I'll call you back as soon as I can."

GIL STARED OUT THE LIVING ROOM WINDOW. IN THE DISTANCE, THE hills they'd burned earlier that week now hinted at buds of pea-green. "I know you love this place." He glanced at his dad in the recliner. "I would never ask you to leave if I didn't think it was best for all of us. We could put the ranch in a trust - come and visit whenever you wanted."

His dad hung his head. "What good would a trust do?" His voice rumbled, thick and gravelly.

Gil returned to the couch and clasped his hands. "We could have an attorney draw up papers. Make provisions for a friend to run the place - maybe Jake, if he'd agree to it. It's the safest way to ensure the land stays in the McCray family. Who knows, one of my kids or grandchildren might decide to live here some day." His heart tugged inside his chest at the thought.

"If you ever have kids." His father pushed himself up from the recliner. Cane in hand, he shuffled to the buffet cabinet where he pulled out a drawer in search of something. Minutes later, he returned with a black velvet box.

"You might try giving this to Mattie the next time you propose." He handed it to Gil and made his way back to his recliner, short of breath. "Your mama would have wanted you to have it. She would have liked Mattie."

Gil opened the box to see a simple diamond solitaire set in white gold. "I can't take this." He closed the lid to give it back to his dad.

"Sure you can. Do it right this time and maybe she'll accept."

"Does that mean you'll come to California with us?" Gil tried to keep the excitement from his voice, knowing the decision would not be easy.

His dad seemed to chew on the question. After a few minutes, he replied, "I always thought I'd live out my days in these hills." His words came out soft and wistful like the leaves on a cottonwood when the spring winds blow. "One lesson I've learned is that life never turns out quite like you expect. I never expected Frank and your mama to die so early in their lives. It nearly ripped my heart apart - but time heals even the worst pain. I never expected you to run off to California to be a superstar football player . . . and I never expected you to come home - but you did."

He rubbed his mouth with wide, thick fingers. "My pride wouldn't let me go to any of your football games. Because of pride, we missed a lot of years - you and I." He sat up in the chair and leaned on his cane. "If going to California will somehow make up for that, I'm willing to give it a try."

Humbled by the man's selflessness, Gil knelt down and offered him a hug. "You won't regret this, Dad. I promise. You'll have a better life than you've ever known in Kansas."

"You don't need to make me any promises. Just get that girl of yours to say yes, 'cause I refuse to die before I jostle a grandbaby on my knee." He stretched in his recliner and stared up at the ceiling, twirling his thumbs.

Gil's throat tightened. He could hardly believe his dad agreed to give up the ranch so easily. No argument - barely a hesitation. Now he had only to convince Mattie that a life with him in California was the right decision.

The next morning, Gil led his father to an empty pew at New Redeemer Church. Scanning the aisles for Mattie's red hair, he spotted Clara and her three children toward the front, but he couldn't distinguish the person next to them. Rather than agonize over Mattie's presence, he put his mind on the hymns and words of Scripture, thankful to have his dad seated beside him. When the sermon concluded, a throng of people gathered around them, welcoming his dad to the service.

"John, I'm so glad you decided to join us."

Gil turned at the familiar voice and saw Mattie shake his father's hand. She looked up at Gil, her eyes like dew on grass.

"You never told me you'd convinced your dad to come to church."

Gil noted how pretty she looked, the sway of her dress, her hair draped over her shoulders in a partial ponytail that complimented her face. "I didn't know until this morning."

He caught her hand and pulled her to the side. "Join us for lunch?"

Mattie stared out at the churchyard where the kids played. "I've made plans already."

"Change them," Gil's father said, having apparently overhead their conversation.

Her brow furrowed, and Gil recognized her struggle.

"No, that's alright." He lowered his voice for her. "If you can't do lunch, maybe we could take Dusty out for a ride in the pasture this afternoon. I need to speak to you about something important."

He gazed into her eyes, hopeful.

Please say yes.

If she refused, what would he do? Beg? Walk away? Gil prayed he wouldn't have to find out.

FORTY-NINE.

MATTIE LOWERED HER GAZE, DETERMINED NOT TO GIVE IN TOO easily to Gil's eager demand. "I don't know. As I said, I have another commitment."

She glanced up to see him no longer smiling, his chin firmly set.

"What about tonight, then? We could ride before dark."

Mattie struggled for an answer. Oh, how she wanted things to be right between them . . . but how could she get over the fact that he'd been with her sister - as intimate as a man could be with a woman? Not to mention that he'd betrayed his brother in the process. Had he really changed? Had he really changed?

Could she trust him with her heart, her very soul?

"I'll meet you in the barn around three," Mattie finally said, then rushed outside before she could change her mind. As she walked to her truck, she noticed the land, stretched out into gently rolling hills, barren except for a few trees that dotted the prairie. Soon cattle would graze the bluestem pastures, and all of nature would come out of its long, winter slump.

The wind whipped the soft material of Mattie's dress, and her heels poked into the moist earth, made damp from an overnight shower. Springtime offered much to look forward to - the greening of the hills, wildflowers, cool water from the deep stream wells.

If only Gil would give up his notion of California and stay on at his father's ranch. They could experience this new season in the hills together, and she'd have more time to witness his true character. She watched as Gil and John made their way down the church steps.

Seeing them together, she realized that some miracles do happen. Would a miracle happen for her and Gil too? She dug in her purse for her cell phone. Minutes later, Mattie heard her mother's voice on the answering machine. The poor reception crackled in her ears.

"Hey Mom, something has come up. I won't be able to make lunch this afternoon. Sorry. I'll call you later and maybe we can reschedule."

Mattie placed the phone in her purse. What did Gil want to discuss with her that was so important? She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but she was holding out hope for a miracle.

A LITTLE BEFORE THREE, MATTIE ENTERED THE BARN WHERE GIL saddled Tulip. She debated turning around as fear gripped her stomach.

Gil looked up and grinned beneath his straw cowboy hat. "It's a nice afternoon for a ride. A bluebird day, my mama used to say."