with you. He wanted to stay."

The words were made up as she went, trying to make the impact less damaging.

"Okay, thanks for letting me know," he said with a quiet nod.

Then he turned and left the kitchen.

"Damn you, Jesse," she said softly.

An hour later, after several frantic phone calls, Kate learned that Jesse really had gotten Harvey Mendle, the Tire King, to replace him. The man had a child in the golf program and was nearly as famous as El Paso's sports stars. He might not have been quite the local hero that the other two were, but he could play golf, and in a pinch he'd have to do.

An hour after that, when she pulled into the golf course parking lot, her stomach roiled. The largest tire she had ever seen, with a house-sized crown gleaming on top, stood in plain sight. The Tire King had arrived, and there wasn't a single soul who wasn't going to know it.

Her cell phone rang.

"What the hell is this I hear about the Tire King advertising in the parking lot?" Julia demanded.

"Hello to you, too."

Julia sighed. "Sorry, sweetie, but something is going on. I've sold advertising at hefty prices, and now

the value of those spots is being diluted by El Paso's very own advertising slut."

"Can a man be a slut?"

"Katherine, I'm not in the mood."

"Now it's my turn to be sorry." Kate hesitated, staring up at the black knobby tire that stood as tall as a

one-story building, the crown like a gaudy balcony. "I suspect Harvey feels he can do a little advertising."

"Good Lord, why?"

"Probably his price for playing in the tournament."

A long pause sizzled over the airwaves. "You asked him to play?" Julia asked very carefully.

"I didn't. Jesse did. Jesse left town this morning."

"I knew it! That bastard! Oh, sweetie, are you all right?"

The tone of her voice changed to caring so quickly that it brought tears to Kate's eyes. There had been

so few people she could count on in her life. But Julia, like Chloe, had always been there for her.

"Hey, don't worry about me. I should have known."

"Oh, Kate. You've always been vulnerable when it comes to him." Julia sighed. "I'll deal with the other

advertisers. Let Mendle have his damn tire. Somehow it all will work out."

Kate wished she was as sure.

The parking lot spilled over, cars lining the streets for miles in every direction. Crowds paid to get a

look at the stars.

Bobby Mac was wonderful and gracious, doing his best to make up for the fact that Jesse wasn't there,

while Harvey, the Tire King, did more to run people off with his constant sales pitch than get them excited about the event.

Lacey McIntyre squeezed Kate's hand when she learned what had happened, her husband stepping in

and saying, "Don't worry about it. I might not be a professional golfer, but I've been known to wow a

crowd a time or two."

But Kate could tell that everyone was upset with Jesse. However, it was Travis who broke her heart.

The minute he walked up, a group of boys circled him.

"So, Travis, where's your dad?" Then they laughed, as if they didn't for a second expect any dad of his

to appear.

Travis shrugged his shoulders, trying not to care. The boys jeered, then headed toward the first tee box to get a good spot.

Kate felt sick watching. But there was nothing she could do about it. She had to put it out of her head.

She had a show to tape-with or without Jesse.

She hurried to the ladies' locker room and hastily checked her makeup. She'd have to carry a compact of powder around with her if she wasn't going to shine like an oil slick underneath the hot sun. It was only 8:30 in the morning and already she could tell it was going to be a scorcher.

At 8:55, she stood on the number one tee box, an amazing crowd stretching out along either side of the

fairway.

Bobby Mac wore a blue golf shirt with gold trim-his former team colors. He smiled and signed autographs. Harvey Mendle, wearing an eye-shocking orange-and-yellow plaid ensemble with blazing

white shoes, gave out coupons for the Tire King.

"Is everyone ready?" she asked.

The men nodded.

"Great, let's get started."

The event consisted of nine holes. An hour and a half of golf that she would edit down into forty-four minutes of highlights with sixteen minutes of ads, all to be shown that afternoon. She had her work cut out for her.

Kate turned to the camera, nodded to Pete, then smiled just as the camera started rolling.

"Good morning, West Texas. We are here at the El Paso Country Club for the first annual golf-off for El Paso's public sports programs." She made the introductions, trying not to cringe at the boos that filtered through the crowd when she announced Jesse Chapman couldn't join them after all. They laughed when she mentioned the Tire King.

The event wasn't off to a great start.

She interviewed each of the men, and after the first minute, she was in her element, asking questions about things that were important to her and El Paso. She surprised herself when she told a joke that made the crowd laugh. She even managed to make the Tire King sound interesting. Then she explained that Bobby would be playing for the football programs, and Harvey would be playing for the golf programs. A check for $50,000 would be made out to the winner's designated program, $35,000 to the runner-up's program of choice.

Bobby Mac teed off first, hitting a long and true shot that flew straight down the fairway. Harvey came up to the tee box next, addressed the ball, waggled the club, waggled again and again, until the crowd started to get antsy. Finally he went into his back swing, the movement awkward, then he followed through in the ugliest form imaginable. But no one could deny that his ball went every inch as far as Bobby's.

For good or bad, they were off. Or at least Bobby was. Harvey, after his one impressive shot, hacked his way along the course, launching the ball into the crowd, while Bobby waited patiently and graciously, his second shot landing pristinely on the green.

Finally, Harvey made it to the rough surrounding the smooth grass around the number one hole. But they weren't out of the woods yet. The Tire King, no doubt flustered or nervous after shanking so many times, shot the ball clear across the green, scattering the gallery on the other side.

The crowd groaned. Even Bobby grimaced. Kate told her TV audience that it was a wonder anyone took up the game of golf.

Eventually, Harvey sank the ball, two strokes over par-two strokes behind Bobby Mac. Over the next two holes, Harvey lost more and more ground. By the time they approached the fourth tee box, with six holes to go, Harvey was seven strokes behind the football player.

To make matters worse, Travis had walked along not too far from Kate, his golf school buddies jeering and making snide remarks. They had stopped making comments only when she turned around at one point and said, "Is there a problem?"

That shut them up, though if anything, Travis had become more sullen.

The competitors teed up for the fourth hole. Having the best score on the last hole-Kate didn't mention that he'd had the best score on the last three holes-Bobby went first, his ball flying with perfection through the startling blue sky. Kate could practically hear Harvey groan. But no sooner did the Tire King step up to the tee box than a gasp rippled through the crowd.

First one head turned, then another, until the whispering turned into a huge roar that erupted through the gallery.

Everything stopped. Kate forgot the camera.

A spectator called out, "It's Jesse Chapman!" Another shouted, "He's here!"

Kate's mind went still. Her chest tightened. And sure enough, Jesse stepped through the crowd and onto the back side of the tee box.

He shook hands and joked with the gallery, his dark hair shining in the sun. "Sorry I'm late, folks," he said with his famous four-color-magazine smile.

When he saw Kate, he stopped, so tall and muscular, towering over her. He looked beautiful and wonderful and like the person she had loved for a lifetime. But suddenly that smile that had always made her melt wasn't enough. Who knew why he had come back now? A belated sense of responsibility? The realization that he might look worse to the world for not showing up than he would if he played badly? Whatever the reason, he was bad boy Jesse Chapman and he would come and go as he pleased. She would never be enough to keep him. Once and for all, she had to take that to heart and move on with her life.

"It looks like our very own Jesse Chapman has arrived after all," she said into the camera.

"Hallelujah," the Tire King said, walking away from the ball. "Have at it, buddy."

A caddy hurried toward the men's tee with Jesse's clubs. Jesse didn't immediately follow him. He walked over to Travis, and in front of the crowd and TV audience, Jesse crooked his arm around Travis's shoulder. "Are you going to wish your old man good luck?"

The boys from golf camp were impressed. But Travis wasn't so easily won over. Like Kate, he'd had to learn a hard lesson.

"Good luck," he muttered.

But if it hurt Jesse's feelings, he didn't show it. He ruffled the boy's hair, took his driver, then halted in front of Kate. "Miss Katie," he said with a gallant bow for the audience, "I hope I can hit the ball better than we cooked on the last episode of Getting Real that I was on."

The women swooned, but Kate just stared at him.

She moved the microphone away from her. "I'm glad you're here. It means a lot to Travis."

He leaned forward so that no one else could hear, every trace of charm gone. "Let's hope like hell neither one of us regrets this."

Then he pulled a golf cap out of his bag, put it on, and walked up to the tee.

The crowd cheered. Bobby and Jesse shook hands and joked. The golf-off suddenly was rife with the anticipation of seeing two great athletes compete.

"Where the heck did you hit your ball, Bobby Mac?" Jesse asked good-naturedly. "I want to know exactly where I need to land in order to beat the cr-" He glanced at the camera. "Crud out of you."

After the laughter died down, Jesse addressed the ball. A hushed silence fell over the gallery. Every eye was trained on this amazing man with his athlete's body holding that driver, muscles tense and rippling as a full-fledged concentration took hold.