Tenny Welsh laughed. "Yes, I was," she said, "although the group is semiretired now. They all have kids and touring isn't conducive to raising a family, they say. But they'll do it for you," she told Shelby. "Heather Everett is best friends with the lead singer. She convinced them."

"God bless her," Shelby said fervently. "She's such a sweetie."

"So is her daughter, Odalie," Tenny replied with a sigh. "Have you ever heard her sing? She has the voice of an angel!"

"Where did you hear her?" Morie asked, curious.

"She goes to our church and is a soloist in the choir," the other woman replied with a smile. "It's such a joy to hear her."

"She's had an offer from the Met, by the way," Shelby told Morie. "She's deliberating whether or not to go."

"It would be a shame to waste a talent like that," the caterer replied dreamily. "Oh, I'd love to have such a voice!"

Morie didn't reply. She was thinking of her brother, Cort, who had such a hopeless passion for the shy blonde, who apparently hated him. Nobody knew why. Well, perhaps Cort did, but he was very tight-lipped about his private life.

"So here's the final menu." Shelby interrupted her thoughts as she handed the printed list to the caterer. "And please make certain that we have a variety of canapes to suit every taste, and plenty of fruit."

"I always do," Tenny reminded her with a smile. This wasn't the first time she'd catered big social parties for the Brannts. "I know your tastes very well, Shelby."

Shelby laughed. "It will be a gala occasion. We have a famous soccer star, four A-list actors and actresses, the CEO of a giant computer/software corporation, two government agents, a few assorted mercenaries and the former vice president."

"Vice president?" Morie asked, surprised.

"He's a friend of your father's," she replied. "Of course, so are the mercenaries," she added amusedly. "He likes black sheep."

"Well, they are interesting people," Tenny added. Her face changed. "Especially that man, Grange, who works for the Pendletons. The stories I've heard about him!"

"Yes, he was a former major in the Green Berets," Shelby confided. "And there was a rumor that he actually led a group of mercs down into Mexico to rescue Gracie Pendleton when she was kidnapped by that deposed South American dictator, Emilio Machado."

"I've heard about him," Morie said. She frowned. "Wasn't something said about a connection between Machado and our Rick Marquez, who works as a homicide detective with San Antonio P.D.?" she added.

"Yes," Tenny replied in a soft tone. "Some document has surfaced that connects him with Marquez's mother."

"Barbara, who owns the cafe in Jacobsville," Morie commented. "She has wonderful food. I've eaten there when I visited a girlfriend...."

"No," Tenny interrupted gently. "Not his foster mother. His real mother."

Both women looked at her without speaking.

"Now isn't that interesting," Shelby said.

"And don't you dare repeat it," Tenny replied. "I heard it from someone I know and trust and I'm not supposed to tell. But you can keep a secret." She smiled as she met Shelby's eyes. "As I well know."

"Yes." Shelby didn't comment further, leaving her daughter to wonder about the strange remark.

DARYL CAME OVER TO TALK to King about a new seed bull that his father wanted to add to the breeding program, but he stopped by long enough to speak with Morie privately.

"You said you wanted rubies," he reminded her.

She flushed, because she hadn't really taken the engagement thing seriously. He had, apparently. "Daryl..."

"If you don't like the design, we can change it," he assured her. He opened the jeweler's box. "I had it made up like this, because I know how much you love roses."

She caught her breath when she saw the rings. They were the most unique and beautiful settings she'd ever seen in her life. They looked like living blood in their exquisite eighteen-karat-gold settings. The engagement ring was a rose, its petals outlined in gold and set in glittering pigeon's blood rubies, the largest of which made the center. The engagement ring was studded with rubies and made to interlock with the wedding band.

"Here." Daryl pulled them out of the box and took her hand. He hesitated with a grin. "Want to try them on? No sales pressure. They come with a demented fiance, but you can dump him anytime you like if you find someone more deserving."

She looked into his black eyes with real pleasure. He'd taken her to movies and taught her to tango, he'd ridden with her over the acres and acres of her father's huge ranch. He'd been a friend and even a confidant. She'd told him, although not her parents, the whole truth of her sojourn on the Rancho Real and found him a sympathetic and caring listener. He was also as quiet as a clam. He'd never divulged her secrets to her parents.

She could do worse.

He laughed, because she'd said it out loud. "Yes, you could," he assured her. "I even still have most of my own teeth!"

"Most of them?" she asked with a curious frown.

His black eyes twinkled. "Your brother knocked one of them out when we were in college together. I can't even remember what we fought over. But he said that since he couldn't beat me in a fair fight, we'd be better off as friends, and we have been, all these years."

"Yes, well, my brother has an attitude problem from time to time," she conceded. He was hot-tempered, the way Shelby had said their father once was, and he tended to be impulsive to a fault. But he was a good person. Like Daryl.

She shrugged. "Might as well try them on, since you went to so much trouble having them designed for me," she teased and held out her hand.

They were a perfect fit. They complemented her beautiful hands with their faint olive tan, and the settings glittered in the light with a thousand reflections. The cut was exquisite.

"I love them," she confessed.

He smiled. "Good! So. When are we getting married?"

She stared at him in panic. Mallory was still out there somewhere, even if he hated her and considered her a thief. She should hate him, but she couldn't. She loved him. The thing was, if he'd had second thoughts about her, he'd have been in touch by now. He'd have phoned, written, something, anything. But there had been only silence from him. He still thought she was a thief. It tormented her.

"He won't change his mind, Morena," he said gently, using her real name. "Men like that are never wrong, in their own opinion. You're clinging to dreams. It's better, always better, to deal in reality."

"You're right, of course," she said in a subdued tone. "It's just..."

He bent and kissed her forehead. "An engagement isn't a marriage. Just say yes. We'll announce it at the production sale and make your father and my father very happy so they'll shut up trying to pressure us into getting married." He lifted his head. "And if things do somehow work out for you and your suspicious rancher, I'll take back the rings and go shopping elsewhere," he offered firmly. "You have nothing to lose, really."

She drew in a soft breath. He made sense. She didn't really agree, but she was certain that the future would be dark enough if she went through it alone. In some ways Daryl was perfect for her, and her father would be ecstatic. It might be enough to stop him from digging into her recent past and steamrolling over the Kirks in revenge if he found out why Mallory had fired her. That alone was reason enough to say yes. Daryl was right about one other thing-an engagement wasn't a marriage. She could break it anytime she liked, with no hard feelings.

She touched the rings. "Pity to waste them."

"Just what I was thinking," he agreed.

Her dark eyes twinkled. "Okay. We can be engaged. But it's like a trial engagement," she added firmly. "Just that."

He touched her nose with the tip of his forefinger. "Just that. I promise."

Her father was over the moon when they gave him the news. "Thank God you finally saw sense," he told her. He shook Daryl's hand. "Welcome to the family. You can be married very soon."