42

“One of these days you and I are going to end up in bed together,” he assured her emphatically. “Make no mistake about that. But when we do, it will be for the right reasons. It won’t be because you’re looking for a temporary escape from your problems.”

“That’s a lousy thing to say,” she told him heatedly, but then the truth hit her.

That was exactly what she’d been looking for. She’d wanted a distraction, something to make her feel alive, and a quick romp with an extraordinarily virile man would have accomplished that.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. There was nothing condemning in his expression. If anything, he looked as if he completely understood her actions.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t be. Having a beautiful woman find me desirable, whatever the reason, is never a bad thing. I’m just holding out until it’s perfect.”

“That day might never come,” she said.

“It will,” he replied with total confidence. “Sooner than you think.” He gestured toward the boxes she was clutching with a white-knuckled grip. “Let’s go find some idyllic spot and have a picnic.”

“You’re not afraid to be alone with me?” she teased. “No way,” he assured her.

“I could get carried away.”

He laughed at the suggestion. “Now, that is something to look forward to.”

Cara could have suffered from terminal embarrassment for throwing herself at Rafe, but he refused to allow it. By the time they’d shared their picnic, he had her laughing unselfconsciously again. Because of that, her feelings—and her respect—for him deepened a little more. So did the attraction, even though she couldn’t seem to shut out the fact that their relationship had begun with his insulting belief that she could be a thief.

But as the days wore on with no more calls from Bobby and little for her to do in Winding River, Cara began to feel more restless than ever. She couldn’t go on this way, not with Rafe looking over her shoulder—albeit with less suspicion. Cooking dinner for her parents and baking for her friends wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy her urge to be back in the kitchen cooking for a whole restaurant filled with satisfied customers.

After her outburst in his kitchen, accusing both Tony and Rafe of conspiring, Tony forgave her and let her fill in from time to time, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She was drifting and she didn’t like it. She had to do something to shake things up, something to get her life back on track.

Maybe it was time to get some sound legal advice. No, she corrected, the truth was, it was way past time. She’d been putting it off, pretending to herself that Bobby would show up and prove that it was all some terrible misunderstanding, a mistake that could be easily rectified. She had been deluding herself that he would straighten everything out so that she wouldn’t have to make any of the tough choices. Despite everything, despite all the evidence to the contrary, she hadn’t wanted to believe that a man she’d considered a friend, as well as a business partner, had betrayed her.

Clearly, she admitted with a sigh, she had been wrong. Bobby’s intentions weren’t honorable. And Deidre’s juggling act with the creditors couldn’t go on indefinitely. Cara couldn’t ask her to stand in the line of fire forever. This wasn’t Deidre’s problem to solve. It was hers.

She needed to make a decision, then get back to New York to handle the fallout herself, whether she chose to stay open and fight, as Tony and Rafe expected her to do, or to disappoint them both, sell or close the restaurant and

pay off everyone she could.

Even though she hated involving her friends in what was happening, she knew that there wasn’t a better lawyer—a better advocate—around than Emma. Fortunately, Emma was scheduled to drive up from Denver on Friday morning. Cara resolved to be waiting for her.

She knocked on the front door at the ranch at ten, knowing that Emma would have gotten an early start. Mrs. Clayton greeted her with a smile and a glass of lemonade, just as she had countless times when she and Emma had been teenagers. There was something comforting about it. In many ways so little had changed in the past ten years. The bonds she had formed back then were still strong.

“Emma should be here soon. Are you sure you don’t want to wait inside?” she asked when Cara moved to sit in one of the rockers. “It’s a scorcher out there today.”

“Thanks. I’ll be fine on the porch, if you don’t mind. I need to have a few words in private with Emma.”

“Then I’ll get Caitlyn out of your hair as soon as they get here,” Mrs.

Clayton promised, wiping her hands on her apron and taking a seat beside Cara. “Caitlyn’s going to want to get out to the barn to see her pony, anyway.”

Cara grinned. “I don’t suppose that pony is a bribe from her grandfather to keep her coming up here.”

“Of course it is,” Mrs. Clayton said unrepentantly. “Now that Emma’s divorced, her father and I would give anything to have the two of them here all the time. I know Emma is very successful in Denver, but she hasn’t been truly happy there for a long time. She just refuses to admit it. And Caitlyn loves it here.”

“No doubt about that,” Cara agreed. “And I think a certain newspaper editor might be pleased to have them nearby, too.”

The suggestion brought a wistful expression to Mrs. Clayton’s face. “Ford seems to be a fine young man. Emma could do worse. Of course, every time they’re together for five minutes, they seem to end up in an argument.”

“I’ve noticed,” Cara said with amusement. “Don’t you think all of that explosive chemistry is a good thing?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Clayton said skeptically. “I haven’t seen any evidence that they have a meeting of the minds about anything at all. If Ford said the grass was green, I think Emma would contradict him and point out every single brown patch in the lawn. I listen to the two of them and shake my head. Whatever happened to that agreeable girl we raised?”

“She grew up and became an outstanding lawyer with a passion for

defending the little guy. Arguing is second nature to her. If she’d been on the debate team in high school, they would have been national champions, but back then she hated confrontation.”

“Well, that’s certainly changed, hasn’t it?” Mrs. Clayton said. “And I’m proud of all she’s accomplished, I really am. I just wish she’d give poor Ford a break every once in a while.”

Cara patted Mrs. Clayton’s hand. “She will. I predict that watching them will give Winding River more entertainment than any other courtship to come along in years.”

“I don’t know about that,” Emma’s mother said, grinning at her. “They’ll have to work for that honor. I’ve heard some absolutely fascinating things about you and that young man who followed you here from back East.”

Cara blushed, even as she insisted that she and Rafe were just friends. “Maybe so, but if Emma and Ford were half as friendly, I’d be a happy

woman,” Mrs. Clayton said, then glanced at the driveway. “There’s my wayward daughter now.”

Practically before Emma pulled to a stop in front of the house, Caitlyn tumbled out of the car. “Grandma, Grandma, how’s my pony? I gotta see him right now. I missed him soooo much. Do you think he missed me?”

Mrs. Clayton winked at Cara, then reached for Caitlyn’s hand. “Of course I do. Let’s go to the barn. I think your grandpa’s down there with him right now. He probably already has the saddle on, so you can go for a ride.”

Caitlyn’s smile spread. “Really? Hurry, Grandma.”

Emma emerged from the car, shaking her head as the two of them went off toward the barn. “I swear that pony is all Caitlyn talked about all week. Now she’s begging me to let her stay here when I go back to Denver.”

“Why don’t you?” Cara asked. “In fact, why don’t you just pack up and move here?”