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  “So you won’t mind helping out?”

  “Not at all. Might not be politically correct not to aspire to be a world-class chef, but I like to cook. I like to cook for lots of people.”

  “That makes one of us. How are things going at the diner?”

  “Slow.”

  “That stinks. Unless you like havin’ time on your hands?”

  “Not really. I like to stay busy, though I do have more time to try out recipes when I’m not flipping burgers. Sitting around drives me crazy.” She shot Gemma a sideways glance as they started toward the house. “Would it be all right if I weeded that garden spot? Clem promised me a few tomato and pepper plants. I’d like to try my hand at gardening.”

  Gemma didn’t hide her shock. “You’ve never had a garden?”

  “Mom and I didn’t stay in one place very long. Certainly not long enough to see the fruits of my labors.”

  “You can do whatever you want, Macie. I want you to think of this as your home for as long as you’re here, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “You have time to come up to the house right now and hash this cooking business out?”

  “Sure.”

  “What were you gonna do with the mint?”

  “Dry it. Maybe sprinkle some in a batch of brownies.”

  “See? You’re creative. I never would’ve thought of that.”

  An engine revved in the machine shed, then sputtered and died. Metal clanged on metal.

  Gemma frowned. “Damn old tractor. Something’s always broken around here. I wish your dad would just forget about it.”

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  “Not a chance. I never knew that Dad loves to tinker with engines. My Escape is running like a champ now, thanks to him. He has some kind of magic hands.”

  “I’ll second that,” Gemma muttered. Then she stopped in her tracks and looked up, her mouth open in shock.

  Macie laughed. “Not touching that one, Gemma.”

  “Foot in mouth disease runs in my family.”

  “Carter’s too. So the McKays are descending on us. What is his brother Colby like?”

  “Charming. Candid. Generous. He and Channing are great. You’ll like them.”

  But will they like me? Rather than dwell on that, or if Carter was going to present them as the couple he insisted they were, she focused on the jobs at hand. Inside the kitchen, Macie made lists and took notes of where assorted pots and utensils were kept.

  Gemma said, “I know it’s only a little after noon, but do you want a beer? I sure could use one.”

  “That’d be great.”

  “Pull up a chair.”

  They sat at the table, drinking in silence. Finally Macie said, “Why are you looking at bulls?”

  “For breeding bucking bulls.”

  “Once everything is squared away on the Bar 9, are you gonna try to get back into the stock contractor business?”

  Gemma looked surprised that Macie remembered. “Good question. That’s what I’d planned.”

  “And now?”

  “I’m wondering if I’m doin’ it only because it’s what Steve would’ve wanted. Being a contractor is a lot of work and a lot of travel. Which wasn’t so bad right after Steve died, when I didn’t wanna be alone here, where every damn thing reminded me of him and the hole in my life.

  “It was fun for a couple of years. Getting to know the cowboys and their families.

  Changing things up from town to town, a different rodeo every week. It felt like an extended family, appealing thought to me since I’m low on family.”

  Macie bit back me too and listened.

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  Gemma cleared the huskiness from her throat. “But then things went downhill fast.

  Mike Morgan had a career-ending injury courtesy of one of my steers. Colby was almost killed by a bull in Cheyenne. Some of the other cowboys I’d been friends with for years dropped out ’cause they couldn’t make a living rodeoin’. After I quit seeing Cash around the circuit, I realized he was a big part of why I’d liked it so much in the first place.”

  After that personal admission, Macie waited in vain for a look of dismay to cross Gemma’s face.

  “It was my damn pride that kept me away from him. That and fear.” She laughed.

  “And my age.”

  “Gemma, you’re hardly teetering toward the grave.”

  “Part of me knows that. The other part, the skeptical part that looks in the mirror every morning? That part sees wrinkles, gray hair, and luggage under my eyes, and seems to have the upper hand, calling me an old hag.”

  “Ageism sucks on either end.”

  Gemma gave her a thoughtful look. “Meaning?”

  “You think you’re too old to do what really makes you happy; everyone thinks I’m too young to know my own mind.”

  “I’ve never thought of you that way.”

  “That makes one of you.”

  “Even your dad?”

  “He made mistakes when he was young and wants to make damn sure I don’t repeat them. Although I appreciate the fact he wants to protect me, I am an adult. Sometimes I feel like I never was a kid.”

  “Cash keeps reminding me age is only a number.”

  “I agree. But that means I’m a very old twenty-two.”

  “What does that make me? A very young forty-eight?”

  “Yep.” Macie winked. “Why, we’re practically the same age.”

  Gemma grinned and clinked her bottle to Macie’s. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Her dad walked in as she swallowed the toast. “My two favorite ladies.” He kissed the top of Macie’s head, then stood behind Gemma and squeezed her shoulders.

  For some reason Macie was pleased he’d acknowledged her first.

  “Whatcha ladies doin’?”

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  “Celebrating Macie volunteering to pull my ass out of the fire. She’s gonna cook up a storm today before the McKays arrive tomorrow.”

  “Really? Honey-girl, that’s awesome.”

  “No biggie.” Though it was, because she could see how happy it made him.

  “You gonna wow them with your special caramel apple pie, eh?” He frowned. “Hey, didja ever bring back that can of whipped cream you borrowed?”

  Macie choked on her beer, and waved off her father as he started toward her with a worried look on his face.

  Gemma’s eyes narrowed, then widened with comprehension. She hid a grin behind her beer bottle.

  “You ready, sweets?” Cash said to Gemma. “We need to hit the road.”

  “Soon as I hit the bathroom.” Gemma stood and smiled at Macie. “Thanks again for helping out. I enjoy talking with you. Don’t be a stranger.” She disappeared up the stairs.

  “You’ll be okay here alone tonight?” her dad asked. “Last time we left there was a storm—”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Is Carter comin’ over?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  He fiddled with his cowboy hat. “Call him. I’d feel better if he was around.”

  Macie lifted her eyebrows. Dad wanted Carter here? That was a first. “Why?”

  “Yeah, well, because I want him to check the cattle before supper. He needs to take care of what’s important.”

  Right. The cattle. Instead of that horses-and-cows-and-everything-else-are-more-important-than-me sinking sensation, she knew her dad had meant her. She was important. Macie hid a teary smile and turned away.

  Later that night, Macie was exhausted when Carter barged into Gemma’s kitchen.

  After he kissed her thoroughly, he said, “Come on. I want to show you something.”

  “Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I’m tired and I have to be up early.”

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James

  “It’ll be worth your while, I promise.”

  “Then will you tuck me in bed?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll even let you sleep tonight.”

  They weren’t getting a lot of sleep the nights they were together. If she’d thought the man was dynamic in bed before the whipped cream incident. Whew. It was nothing compared to the stamina with which he made love to her at every opportunity. Just a few hours back he’d wrestled her to the floor in Gemma’s living room and screwed her silly.

  She still couldn’t figure out what’d changed him. In addition to the smokin’ hot sex, they talked into the wee hours. And laughed, Lord, they’d laughed until they cried. They had pillow fights and water wars. They’d crawl in bed and feed each other ice cream. Or snuggle up by the campfire. Sometimes they played cards, although neither of them knew how to play pinochle. They were truly acting like a couple.

  Macie couldn’t remember ever being so happy. Or exhausted.

  She sighed.

  “Please? Come on, darlin’, be daring.”

  “Okay. But you better not be taking me snipe hunting.”

  “Never. Close your eyes.” He slipped something soft over her head. Everything went dark.

  “A blindfold? Why?”

  “You’ll see. Trust me.” He clasped her hand in his and led her outside. “It’s just a short drive.” He helped her into his truck. They rode down the gravel road in silence.

  Macie was a little unnerved, not knowing where they were or what they were doing.

  They walked a ways and stopped.

  “Hang on.” She heard a rustling noise and then Carter picked her up and laid her on something soft flat on the ground.

  “Carter—”

  “Ssh. Don’t be scared. I’m here. Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them.” He nibbled around the edges of her lips as he slid off the blindfold. One last sweet kiss and he moved away.

  She felt him lay down beside her.

  “Okay, darlin’, you can open them now.”

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  Macie blinked her eyes open and stared at the sky above her, which was a magnificent swath of pitch black, punctuated with silver stars. Stars so big she could almost reach out and touch them. Stars bursting with light so bright it was as if she were part of the Milky Way.

  “Omigod. It is beautiful.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.” That wasn’t a lie. She was absolutely floored.

  “There’s no moon tonight and no clouds. No streetlights or air pollution to diffuse the pure blackness of the sky.”

  “Is it always like this in Wyoming?”

  “No. Maybe once or twice every couple of years. I’ve seen it in the summer when it’s hot as hell, and in the dead of winter when it’s ice cold. I have to admit I like layin’

  on a blanket much better than bein’ wrapped up in a parka.”

  “Me too. Thank you for sharing this, it’s spectacular.”

  Carter reached for her hand. He swept his thumb over her wrist; he always had to be touching her. It wasn’t annoying; it was soothing, and becoming a familiar and welcome quirk.

  They stargazed in awestruck silence. She had no idea how much time passed. Her mind blanked to everything the majesty stretched out before them and the sweetness of the man laying beside her.

  She blinked and Carter was above her.

  “I didn’t bring you out here to have my wicked way with you, believe it or not.”

  He ran his fingers down the line of her jaw and she shivered.

  “But I want you. I want to make love to you like this. With starlight on your face.

  With warm sage-scented night air around us and a soft blanket below us. No one around for miles. Just you and me, Macie. As alone as we’ve ever been.”

  They undressed each other slowly and rolled over the blanket, skin to skin.

  Exchanging soft kisses, gentle caresses. A whispered word, a low moan. No hurry. The sexual heat between them simmered, rather than boiled.

  In the breathtaking moment beneath the shimmering stars when Carter slipped inside her body, Macie also felt him slip into her heart.

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  Chapter Twenty-five

  Colby and Channing McKay arrived with four pickup loads of bull riding equipment and half the population of Crook County, Wyoming.

  Or so it seemed to Gemma.

  Happy as she was to see wild child Keely McKay, her quiet friend/nemesis Amy Jo Foster, four teenage boys, and a dog named Shithead, Gemma wondered if she and Channing would get a chance to talk privately. Lord knew she needed it.

  She wanted to know if she was acting like an old fool because she’d fallen head over heels in love with Cash Big Crow.

  Macie had overtaken the kitchen and shooed her out. Cash loitered in the paddock setting up the mechanical bull, while Colby and two teenage boys tied one of the practice barrels between two trees. The other boys were hauling more stuff out of the vehicles and carrying it into the barn. Keely and Amy Jo were arguing while they dragged piles of brush for the evening bonfire.

  Where there were cowboys, there were campfires.

  Didn’t take long for the heated argument between the girls to reach her ears.

  “He won’t let you, Keely, and it’ll just piss him off if you ask him, so drop it.”

  Gemma’s brows lifted. Sweet Amy Jo cursed now? Didn’t take long for Keely McKay to corrupt her.

  “Why are you acting like my mother?”

  “Because I’m trying to keep you from getting killed.”

  “Puh-lease. Do you know how many times I’ve watched—”

  “Watching isn’t the same thing as participating.”

  Keely let loose a sultry laugh. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for months, but do you listen to me? No.”

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  “We are not talking about… that kind of stuff. We’re talking about you wanting to climb on that stupid mechanical bull. Colby won’t let you.”

  “Maybe I can sweet talk Cash.”

  Amy Jo released a disgusted sigh.

  “Or Carter would let me do it.”

  “Wrong. Carter won’t let you get away with half the shit that Colby does. So give it up.”

  “If they don’t let me try it, I’ll sneak out on my own and do it.”

  “Oh, no you won’t. I’ll tell.”

  “You are supposed to be my friend and back me up on this.”

  “I am your friend. And if you wind up dead, who will I room with in Denver? We already paid the deposit. We’re finally gonna whoop it up, away from—”

  “How’s it goin’, girls?” Gemma asked.

  Amy Jo gasped and whirled around guiltily.

  Keely jumped. “What are you doin’ sneakin’ up on us, Gemma?”

  “Seein’ if you were up to no good.”

  “She’s always up to no good,” Amy Jo grumbled.

  “Don’t I know it.” Gemma smiled. “I couldn’t help but overhear you talkin’. You two movin’ someplace?”

  “Yep. We’re getting the hell out of Dodge and starting massage therapy school in Denver in September.”

  “It’s a temporary move,” Amy Jo amended. “The school has an accelerated program, so we’ll be living there for a year.”

  “Both of you? Together? In an apartment? With no supervision? Sounds like a disaster.”

  “Sounds like an episode of Sex in the City: Wild Wyoming Women.”

  “Keely!”

  “You should’ve seen the look on Dad’s face when I told him I wanted to open a massage parlor.”

  “Good Lord, Keely.”

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  Keely smiled cheekily. “Well, I’m glad yo
u’re here. We were just talkin’ about a…man versus woman situation. Men always havin’ the upper hand, tellin’ us what we can and can’t do. You think you could ask Cash if—”

  “No. And if I see you anywhere around that mechanical bull, Miz McKay, I’ll tell your dad what I saw you doin’ in Cheyenne last year. That oughta get you grounded, oh, for life.”

  “Grounded? Need I remind you I’m twenty, not ten?”

  Gemma lifted her eyebrows. “Need I remind you the legal drinkin’ age is twenty-one, and you doin’ a half-nekkid—”

  “Fine. I’ll shut up now.”

  “Good. Besides, that thing is not one of them wussy bulls they use in cowboy bars and charge you five bucks to try. That one of Colby’s is a nasty piece of machinery and the closest to getting on the back of a real bull. It’s dangerous.”

  “Told ya so,” Amy Jo said.

  “Why don’t you try to stay out of trouble and see if Cash’s daughter needs any help in the kitchen?”

  “Her name’s Macie, right?” Amy Jo inquired politely. “She seems nice.”

  “She seems young.” Keely demanded, “Hey, are you using her as free slave labor just because she’s too young to know better and because Cash is working for you?”

  “No. She’s a professional cook and she’s older than you, smarty.” Gemma debated on mentioning Macie’s relationship with Carter, but Keely would find out soon enough.

  “No way. How old is she?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  Keely and Amy Jo exchanged a look. And a grin. Then they ran to the house.

  Gemma yelled, “No askin’ her to buy you guys booze. You ain’t old enough to drink!”

  “Well, I am. Let’s get shitfaced.”

  Gemma turned and smiled at Channing. “Macie’s camper is empty and I know she’s got beer.”

  “You’re on.”

  Once they each had a cold one, Gemma said, “Married life agrees with you, Mrs.

  McKay.”

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