away and maintain his friendship with both of them. He had even tried to move on himself and date other women, with disastrous consequences.
Beck McKinley was a good guy. A solid rancher, a devoted father, a pillar of the community. Any woman would probably be very lucky to have him, as long as she could get past those hellion boys of his.
Maybe McKinley was exactly the kind of guy she wanted. The thought gnawed at him, but he took some small solace in remembering that she hadn’t seemed all that enthusiastic at the idea of going out with him.
Didn’t matter. He knew damn well it was only a matter of time before she found someone she did want to go out with. If not Beck, some other smooth-talking cowboy would sweep in.
He hadn’t fought for her last time. Instead, he had stood by like a damn statue and watched her fall in love with his best friend.
He wouldn’t go through that again. It was time he made a move—but what if he made the wrong one and ruined everything between them?
He felt like a man given a choice between a hangman’s noose and a firing squad. He was damned either way.
He was still trying to figure out what to do when she shifted from watching the young horse dance around the pasture in the cold December air. Faith gazed up at the overcast sky, still dribbling out the occasional stray snowflake.
“I probably should get back. The kids will be out of school soon and I’m sure you have plenty of things of your own to do. You don’t have to walk me back,” she said when he started to head in that direction behind her. “Stay and unhitch the horse trailer if you need to.”
“It can keep. I’ll walk you back up to your truck. I’ve got to plug in my phone anyway.”
A couple of his ranch dogs came out from the barn to say hello as they walked the short distance to his house. He reached down and petted them both, in total sympathy. He felt like a ranch dog to her: a constant, steady companion with a few useful skills that came in handy once in a while.
Would she ever be able to see him as anything more?
“Thanks again, Chase,” Faith said when they reached her own pickup truck—the one she had insisted on driving over that morning, even though he told her he could easily pick her up and drop her back off at the Star N.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“Seriously, I was out of my depth. Horses aren’t exactly my area of expertise. Who knows, I might have brought home a nag. As always, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
He could feel tension clutch at his shoulders again. “Not true,” he said, his voice more abrupt than he intended. “You didn’t need me. Not really. You’d already done your research and knew what you wanted in a barrel racer. You just needed somebody to back you up.”
She smiled as they reached her pickup truck and a pale shaft of sunlight somehow managed to pierce the cloud cover and land right on her delicate features, so soft and lovely it made his heart hurt.
“I’m so lucky that somebody is always you,” she said.
He let out a breath, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms. He didn’t have that right—nor could he let things go on as they were.
“About the stockgrowers’ party,” he began.
If he hadn’t been looking, he might have missed the leap of something that looked suspiciously like fear in her green eyes before she shifted her gaze away from him.
“Really, it doesn’t bother me to skip it this year if you want to make other plans.”
“I don’t want to skip it,” he growled. “I want to go. With you. On a date.”
He intended to stress the last word, to make it plain this wouldn’t be two buddies just hanging out together, like they always did. As a result, the word took on unnatural proportions and he nearly snapped it out until it arced between them like an arrow twanged from a crossbow.
Eyes wide, she gazed at him for a long moment, clearly startled by his vehemence. After a moment, she nodded. “Okay. That’s settled, then. We can figure out the details later.”
Nothing was settled. He needed to tell her date was the operative word here, that he didn’t want to take her to the party as her neighbor and friend who gave her random advice on a barrel racing horse for her daughter or helped her with the hay season.
He wanted the right to hold her—to dance with her and flirt and whisper soft, sexy words in her ear.
How the hell could he tell her that, after all this time, when he had so carefully cultivated a safe, casual relationship that was the exact opposite of what he really wanted? Before he could figure that out, an SUV he didn’t recognize drove up the lane toward his house.
“Were you expecting company?” she asked.
“Don’t think so.” He frowned as the car pulled up beside them—and his frown intensified when the passenger door opened and a girl jumped out, then raced toward him. “Daddy!”
He stared at his eleven-year-old daughter, dressed to the nines in an outfit more suited to a photo shoot for a children’s clothing store than for a working cattle ranch.
“Adaline! What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you until next weekend.”
“I know, Dad! Isn’t it great? We get extra time together—maybe even two whole weeks! Mom pulled me out of school until after Christmas. Isn’t that awesome? My teachers are going to email me all my homework so I don’t miss too much—not that they ever do anything the last few weeks before Christmas vacation anyway but waste time showing movies and doing busywork and stuff.”
That sounded like a direct quote from her mother, who had little respect for the educational system, even the expensive private school she insisted on sending their daughter to.
As if on cue, his ex-wife climbed out of the driver’s side of what must be a new vehicle, judging by the temporary license plates in the window.
She looked uncharacteristically disordered, with her sweater askew and her hair a little messy in back where she must have been leaning against the headrest as she drove.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” she said. “We took a chance. I’ve been trying to call you all afternoon. Why didn’t you answer?”
“My phone ran out of juice and I forgot to take the charger to the auction with us. What’s going on?”
He knew it had to be something dramatic for her to bring Addie all this way on an unscheduled midweek visit.
Cindy frowned. “My mother had a stroke early this morning and she’s in the hospital in Idaho Falls.”
“Oh, no! I hadn’t heard. I’m so sorry.”
He had tried very hard to earn the approval of his in-laws but the president of the Pine Gulch bank and his wife had been very slow to warm up to him. He didn’t know if they had disliked him because Cindy had been pregnant when they married or because they didn’t think a cattle rancher with cow manure on his boots was good enough for their precious only child.
They had reached a peace accord of sorts after Addie came along. Still, he almost thought his and Cindy’s divorce had been a relief to them—and he had no doubt they had been thrilled at her second marriage to an eminently successful oral surgeon in Boise.
“The doctors say it appears to be a mini stroke. They suspect it’s not the first one so they want to keep her for observation for a few days. My dad said I didn’t have to come down but it seemed like the right thing to do,” Cindy said. “Considering I was coming this way anyway, I didn’t think you would mind having extra visitation with Addie, especially