Angus checked the clock. For all that had happened so far that night, it was barely past eleven o’clock. Gathering his clothes, he crossed the hallway to his room, dressed and hurried to his study.

A few phone calls and he had a meeting set up at the Ugly Stick for midnight and another for early in the morning. Rather than hang around the house where temptation lay sleeping in Brody’s old room, Angus left the ranch and headed for the saloon, ready to lay out a plan.

At a quarter ’til midnight, Angus pulled into the parking lot of the Ugly Stick Saloon. As he got out of his pickup, he heard a shout near the entrance. Two men were leading a third out the door between them. The man in the middle shook loose and fell to the ground. “I told you I’d get the goddamn money. I just need time.”

“You’re out of time, Kent. The boss wants his money now.” The larger man kicked the man on the ground.

“Hey!” Angus shouted. “What’s going on?”

“None of your damn business.”

“Maybe not, but I know the owner of the Ugly Stick, and she wouldn’t be too happy about whatever you’re doing.”

The big guy glared as Angus strode up to the group. “You’d do best to go inside and leave us alone.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not going to happen.” Angus glanced from one man to the other.

Each man weighed a good fifty pounds more than he did and they were bulky, like bouncers at a Vegas club. With scarred faces and tattoos crisscrossing their arms, they’d scare a lesser cowboy.

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” Angus said in his most congenial tone, adding a big stupid grin. “I’ll go inside. But I’m taking this man with me.”

The man on the ground rose to stand behind Angus. “Thanks, Mister.”

“Don’t thank me,” Angus muttered. “We’re not inside yet.”

“Here’s the deal,” the guy with the skull tattoo said. “You can go in and leave the deadbeat with us.”

“Sorry. I can’t do that.” Angus spread his arms wide. “So what next?”

“This.” The big man took a swing with his ham hock of an arm.

Angus had expected it would come to violence, and he was ready. He easily ducked the swing, grabbed the arm and twisted it up behind the man’s back between his shoulder blades. “Now, let me give you the deal again. You and your little friend will leave, while me and my new friend go inside. Got it, little big man?”

The other man lunged at Angus, but Angus spun, taking the one with the skull tattoo with him, ratcheting the man’s arm higher up the middle of his back. “Tell him to back off, or I break your arm,” Angus warned.

“Back off, Roland,” Skull Tattoo grunted.

Roland, his fist raised, his attitude one of repressed anger, hesitated.

Angus nudged the arm again.

Skull Tattoo groaned. “Back the fuck off!”

His fists falling to his side, Roland took a couple of steps backward.

“Go inside,” Angus ordered the man they’d been kicking around.

The man scurried to the door and disappeared inside without offering to assist Angus in disentangling himself from the two men.

Angus was all right with that. He didn’t need the help. He backed away from Roland, still holding on to Skull Tattoo’s arm. When he reached the door, he put his foot against the man’s back and shoved hard, sending him flying forward, where he sprawled on the ground. Then he turned and entered as Greta Sue was exiting.

He caught Greta Sue’s arm. “Just call the sheriff. Those two are big.”

“They shouldn’t be fighting on the premises.” Greta Sue’s face was set in grim, tight lines, like she wanted to chew them up and spit them out.

“Yeah, but unless we get backup, we’ll be in a world of hurt. They’re a little more than either you or I can handle.” He didn’t tell her that he’d just handled them and they would be twice as mad and ready to hurt the next person out the door.

Audrey Anderson joined them at the door, her brow furrowed. “I called the sheriff. Are you okay, Angus?” She touched his arm and looked him over.

He grinned. “I’m fine. But I could do with a whiskey.”

She smiled. “It’s on the house.”

He sat at the bar and Libby filled a glass with a double. The interior of the bar was a lot different than it had been twenty-four hours before. Gone were the masses of women and the few cowboys they were bidding on. The regulars were there, dancing with their girls, playing a hand of cards or just drinking beer and whiskey.

“Thanks, man. I would have been raw meat if you hadn’t come along when you did.” The man the two goons outside had kicked to the ground pulled up a stool beside Angus. He pressed a hand to his ribs, winced and stared at the glass in Angus’s hand, his tongue running across his lips.

Angus held up his glass of whiskey. “Can I buy you a whiskey?”

He nodded. “Thanks. I’m short on cash.”

Libby appeared in front of them and splashed whiskey into a glass and set it in front of the stranger.

“Why were they roughing you up?” Angus asked.

The man’s lips pressed together. “Their boss thinks I owe him money.”

Angus lifted his glass and took a pull before continuing with “And do you?”

Pushing a hand through dirty-blond hair, the man shrugged. “Yeah.”

“A lot?”

Again, he shrugged. “Twenty grand.”

Angus whistled. “I can see where their boss might be anxious to get it back.”

“He can afford it.” The man tossed back his whiskey and held it out for a refill. “I have a plan to pay him off by the end of the week.”

“Must be a good one if you can come up with twenty grand in a hurry.”

“My ex is loaded. I’m going to get her to loan me the money.”

Angus’s hand wrapped around his glass so tightly he thought it would break. He knew without asking who this deadbeat bastard was, and he wished he’d left him to the two men in the parking lot.

“Women can be hard to read,” Angus managed to force out between his gritted teeth. “What makes you so sure she’ll hand over that kind of money?”

“I hold the trump card.” He grinned, displaying yellowing teeth and an evil glint in his eyes.

Dalton.

A sweet kid who only wanted to love and be loved. It took every ounce of restraint to keep from balling his fist and shoving it into the man’s face.

“Libby, could we get another whiskey?” Angus called out.

While the bartender poured, Angus asked, “So what’s this trump card?”

“The kid. All I have to do is pretend I want custody of the kid and she’ll give me any goddamn thing I want.”

Angus smiled up at Libby. “Hear that, Libby?” He turned to the man beside him. “Kent.” He faced the man on the adjacent stool. “That’s your name, right?”

He nodded. “Wayne Kent.” He leered at Libby. “Prettiest bartender I’ve seen in a long time.”

“Wayne says he can get a woman to do anything for him if he threatens to take custody of her kid. What woman would fall for that?”

Libby snorted. “Every woman I know, if the man has any legal claim.”

Angus turned back to Wayne. “Seems your plan has merit. When are you putting the screws to her?”

Wayne swirled the whiskey in his glass. “I was thinking about tomorrow morning, before she leaves town to go back to Dallas.”

Angus clapped a hand to Wayne’s back. “Hey, buddy, let me help you out.”

“No, no. I can’t let you do that.” Wayne waved a hand. “You’ve already done enough.”

“Not nearly,” Angus said, strengthening his resolve to make things right for Gwen. “Come on. I feel responsible, having saved your life once.” Angus winked, hiding the anger simmering below the surface. “I know most of the people in town. I can set up a meeting place and let you take over.”

“You’d do that?” He brightened. “Why?”

“I hate to see someone suffer.”

“Thanks, but I’m not sure she’ll answer my phone call. She was pretty mad at me last time I talked to her.”

“Right. That would be a problem.” Angus raised his brows. “Who is she?”

“Gwendolyn Graves. She’s staying in the bed-and-breakfast on Main in Temptation.”

“Gwen Graves?” Angus grinned. “This will be easier than I thought. I have it on good authority she’s not staying at the B and B tonight, and that she might be a little more open to negotiation.”

“You think? I don’t know…” Wayne sighed, “…she was hot last time I talked to her.”

Angus jotted his home phone number on a napkin and handed it to Wayne. “Dial this number. They’ll be sure to get her to answer.”

Libby stood behind the bar, her eyes narrowed, her mouth set in a grim line.

Angus shot her a glance and shook his head, the movement almost imperceptible if the person wasn’t looking for it.

Libby nodded once and turned away.

Wayne tucked the napkin in his breast pocket. “You really know how to help a fellow out.”

“Then it’s a plan? I can get the keys to this bar. You can meet her here.”

“That would be great. Hopefully, she can wire the money straight to my account.”

“I’m sure it’ll be that easy.” Angus nodded. “Nine o’clock tomorrow morning, I’ll make sure the door’s unlocked. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m calling it a night. Nice meeting you, Wayne.”

“Same.”

Angus stood.

“Hey.” Wayne put his hand on Angus’s arm. “Thanks, Mister…”

“Angus McFarlan.”

“Thanks, Angus.” He stuck out his hand and Angus shook it, forcing back the temptation to slug the guy in the face.

Angus left the bar, hooked Jackson Gray Wolf’s arm and walked him out through the back door. “Thanks for meeting with me on short notice. Can you deliver Gwen’s Cadillac to my house?”

Jackson nodded. “Sure. When do you need it?”

“Tonight, if that’s possible. And, Jackson, you still interested in buying my stud?”

Gwen woke to the scent of bacon and biscuits wafting through the room. Her stomach grumbled and she stretched on the crisp white sheets, her hand reaching out for the man beside her.

A tap on the door made her jerk upright, draw the sheet up over her naked breasts and run a hand through her unruly hair. “Come in,” she called out. Her heart raced and she held her breath, waiting for the man of her dreams to walk in and pick up where they’d left off the night before.

“I’m glad you decided to stay the night here instead of at the B and B.” Mrs. McFarlan backed into the room, carrying a large tray loaded with heavenly smells.

Gwen yelped and flattened herself against the mattress, pulling the sheet and quilt up over her naked body. “Mrs. McFarlan, I…didn’t expect…” she bit the inside of her mouth and finished with, “…you to make a fuss.”

The older woman turned with a wide grin. “We don’t have guests often, so it’s nice to make a fuss.” Her gaze darted around the room. “Oh, I thought I heard…um…” She paused, her face falling. “Well, there’s enough food here for two.”

“Thank you, Mrs. McFarlan.”

“Call me Maggie, or Mama Mac.” She smiled. “I like the sound of that. I’m glad you and Angus worked things out. He’s done nothing but mope around here for the past seven years.”

Gwen’s heart leaped and pounded against her ribs. Despite the fact she was hiding her naked body beneath the covers, she couldn’t help questioning. “He moped?”

Maggie winked. “You know. Man-moping, when they get all dark and brooding all the time.” Still carrying the loaded tray, she focused on Gwen. “Do you want me to plump your pillows so that you can sit up and I can put this tray in your lap?”

“No!” Gwen shook her head. “Thank you. If you could set it on the table over there, I’d appreciate it. I like to stretch and wake up slowly.”

“Certainly. I suppose Angus got up early to feed the animals. I’ll go check on our little man. He was polishing off a rather large stack of pancakes in the kitchen. I need to make sure Colin doesn’t try to steal any.” She winked. “I’m on strike as far as my boys are concerned. I’m glad to see Angus taking me seriously.”

“On strike?” Gwen frowned.

“I’m not cooking, cleaning or running errands for them anymore, and I told them I’d sell the ranch if they didn’t make an effort to find wives, settle down and have kids.” She chuckled. “I didn’t know how effective that threat would be, or I’d have made it a lot sooner.” Maggie set the tray on the table and straightened. “Let me know if you need anything. I can loan you some clothes if you like. Though you’re much taller than I am, I could probably come up with a dress or two.”

Gwen sank deeper into the blankets. “No, thank you. I have my suitcase.”

“Okay then. I’ll leave you to get dressed.” Mrs. McFarlan left the room, silence making the older woman’s words echo in Gwen’s head.

She’d told her sons she’d sell the ranch if they didn’t find wives.

A sick, hollow sensation washed over her, making her stomach clench and her eyes sting.

All this time that she’d thought Angus had really missed her and wanted to be with her he’d been fulfilling his mother’s demand to marry and have children.

What kind of fool was she to think her world could fall into place in less than two days?

Gwen lay still while her heart shattered into a million pieces. Her first inclination was to pull the blanket up over her head, shrivel up and die. But she couldn’t. She had to take Dalton back to Dallas and the life she’d built since she’d left Temptation the first time.

Pushing back the sheet and quilt, she struggled to sit up and stand, the heavy weight of betrayal dragging her down. She trudged past the tray of food, so hopefully prepared, and sank to the floor in front of her suitcase, her eyes filling with tears.

How could she be so incredibly stupid? He didn’t love her at all. He loved his horses and his ranch so much he’d marry her to keep it.

She fought to keep from shedding one more tear for Angus McFarlan. The man didn’t deserve her or her tears. A single fat tear slipped from the corner of her eyes and started down her cheek. Gwen swiped at it, refusing to wallow, resisting the urge to sink into despair. She was a very successful business owner with people who looked to her for direction and a son she loved to the moon and back. So she was lonely. That would pass. Life went on.

Gwen swiped at the second tear and grabbed a pair of trousers, a blouse and her bra, dragging them on as quickly as she could. When she had fully dressed and brushed her hair back into a low ponytail, she zipped her suitcase and exited the room where she’d dared to dream of a future with a man who was only using her.

Dalton skipped down the hall, spotted her and ran all out, crashing into her empty gut. “Mama, can we stay here forever? I want to live on a ranch. This ranch. Memaw said I could have a puppy and a pony of my own. Uncle Colin said he’d show me how to throw a football and Angus said he’d teach me to ride my pony.” He hugged her tight, his smile so wide it nearly blinded her. “Can we stay? Please?”

“Oh, Dalton.” Her voice caught on the lump stuck in her throat. “We have to go home to Dallas.”

“But I don’t want to go to Dallas. Memaw said there’s a school in town.”

“But we don’t live here, sweetheart.” Gwen ruffled her son’s head. “Go put your boots on. We need to leave.”

A telephone rang somewhere in the house and Mrs. McFarlan’s voice carried to where Gwen stood in the hall. “Gwendolyn Graves? Why yes. Just a moment, please.” Angus’s mother appeared at the end of the hallway. “There’s a man on the phone for you, Gwen.”

“Did he say who it was?”

“No, I don’t recognize the voice.” She glanced behind her. “Do you want me to ask?”

Gwen sighed. “No. I’ll take it.” The only people who might have guessed she’d ended up here would be Mona and Grant. Trudging down the hall, she turned toward the living area, dreading running into Angus. The telephone stood on a table in the hallway.

Gwen answered, “This is Gwen.”

“Gwendy baby.”

Just when Gwen thought her day couldn’t get worse, it did. “What do you want, Wayne?”

“Ah, so glad I found you.” He paused then said, “All I want is joint custody.”

Gwen’s stomach sank. “I’m not giving you joint custody,” she said, her tone flat, unbending.

“I’ll make this easy on you. All you have to do is show up at the Ugly Stick Saloon at nine o’clock and we can discuss the details.”

“Wayne, who told you I was here?”

“A man who saved my ass last night at the bar gave me this number.” Wayne chuckled. “He’s a good guy. Knows a lot of people in this pissant town. He’s the one who suggested we meet this morning. I’m sure you’ll come to see reason.”

Past her endurance, Gwen demanded, “Who told you I was here, Wayne?”

“His name is Angus McFarlan.”