“Tricia! Tricia! Are you okay?”

When Tricia opened her eyes, she was staring into Sheriff Kane Saucier’s concerned face. “What happened?”

“A witness said some fool forced you off the road, but they didn’t stop. You crashed into the guardrail.”

Tricia groaned, pushing the white plastic remains of the airbag off her body. “Did my balloon bouquet survive?” Blinking her eyes, she grimaced, trying to process all the places on her body that hurt. “I think I bit my tongue.”

“Your balloons are all still afloat,” he called from the back of the van. “I called for an ambulance.”

Tricia shook her head, then grabbed it as she felt a wave of dizziness swamp her. “You did? I think I’m fine,” she protested weakly. “Can you call them back and tell them not to come?”

“I don’t think so.” Kane looked apprehensive. “You whacked your head pretty good and you were unconscious when I arrived. I’d feel better if you get checked out.”

“I’m not even bleeding.” She crawled from the seat and stood on the ground, needing to show the sheriff that she was okay. “I really need to make this delivery now.”

“I don’t think this van’s going anywhere. I called a wrecker.” Kane strode to the front of the vehicle to survey the damage. “You were damn lucky, this could’ve been a lot worse.”

“Yea, I suppose.” Tricia stared at her wrecked transportation. “Was there a fire? I smell burning rubber.” She felt woozy and disoriented, but that was normal she supposed.

“I don’t smell rubber,” Kane said, kicking one of her tires. “You didn’t leave any skid marks or anything.”

“Hmmm,” Tricia felt a niggle of worry, “I guess it’s my imagination.” Please God, let it be her imagination. She knew what the smell of burning rubber could mean. Suddenly, she felt trapped. “How will I get to the lumber yard to make this delivery?”

Kane pulled his phone from his pocket. “Let me call Potter and tell him to drop your van off at the mechanic’s shop. When you finish at the ER, call the dispatcher. Someone will pick you up and take you to make your delivery. How does that sound?”

Tricia was touched by the lawman’s consideration. “Wow, you’re a full-service Sheriff’s department, aren’t you?”

He grinned, shrugging his shoulders. “We try. Will it be okay for Potter to take the van to Jon’s?” He named a new mechanic in town.

“Sure, yes, tell him I’ll stop by with my insurance information this afternoon.” Tricia walked to the back of the vehicle to retrieve the balloons and chocolate, grateful to see they were intact. She did her best to ignore the tingling in her arms and the stiffness in her neck.

As Kane took the balloons from her and stuffed them into the backseat of his squad car, she leaned on the hood to catch her breath. This was not happening! She refused to let it happen. What she was feeling was due to the crash, not to anything else!

When the ambulance arrived, the EMT’s did a cursory check of her vitals before instructing her to lie down on the stretcher for transport.

“Just call 9-1-1 when you’re through, Tricia, someone will be by to pick you up in a jiffy,” he reminded her.

“Thanks, Kane.” She braced herself when the technicians picked up the gurney and loaded her into the back of the ambulance. “Great, just great,” she whispered. Tricia tried to think of anything else – but she failed. Remembered pain wiped everything else from her mind.

The stigma of growing up with epilepsy would be something she’d never forget.

Whispers. Pointed fingers. The hurtful names and comments.

Freak. Spastic. Fit thrower.

Her mother tried to protect her, but keeping Tricia away from people had done its own share of damage. As she’d moved into adolescence, the frequency and intensity of the seizures lessened. At sixteen, she’d even braved a date, but the excitement of the evening brought on a light episode. In comparison to others she’d suffered, the seizure had been short and inconsequential. Her escort, Paul Gilley, had no basis for comparison. He’d been horrified and Tricia had been mortified.

Even though the symptoms gradually dissipated, Tricia never went out with a boy again. Just as soon as her high school graduation date rolled around, she moved away from the small town where no one would ever forget her shame or think of her in any other way than the girl with epilepsy.

Her paternal grandmother was the one responsible for her fresh start. Trudy Yeager had balked at her daughter accepting the old lady’s help, but Tricia had been desperate.

…A few minutes later, Dr. Kumar gave her his assessment. “You appear to be no worse for wear. I see some bruising from the airbag and where you hit your head, but not much else.”

Tricia sat on the examining table, her hands folded in her lap. “Okay, I like the sound of that, I just needed to be sure.”

“Although…it’s not unheard of for epilepsy to return after a number of years.” He mused, scooting his stool back and laying a tablet on the counter behind him. “The blow to your head could have triggered an episode. I see no evidence of it, but I can’t be a hundred percent certain. Not every person’s experience with the condition is the same. Tell me about yours. What was a seizure like for you?”

This was not what Tricia had envisioned her day being like. “I would feel disoriented, sometimes I would smell things and hear things that weren’t there.” She felt so stupid. “I would tense up and shake, but I never had a grand mal seizure.”

“Okay, I see. Well, I recommend you have some tests run. When can you see your regular doctor?”

“Soon.” She made eye contact with the pretty nurse who gave her a slight smile. Nurse Cox was her name. “Do I know you?”

The woman shook her head. “Not really. I’ve seen you around Hardbodies. I used to date Lance Rogers.”

“Oh!” Well, that explained it. An uncomfortable feeling of envy wiggled around in her stomach. “How have you been?”

“Excuse me.” Dr. Kumar cut them off. “I’m going to let you go home, but call your doctor ASAP. And if you have any further symptoms before then, come back and see us.”

“Yes, sir.” Depressed, Tricia redressed with the help of Nurse Brittney Cox.

“Who is Lance dating these days?”

The question took Tricia by surprise. She wanted to answer, me, but that declaration would be a little premature. “I’m not sure. I don’t know if he’s seeing anyone right now.”

“I call him periodically, just to keep the channels of communication open.”

“Really?” Man, she didn’t need to know that. Nurse Cox was gorgeous, she made Tricia feel like an onion.

“There, you’re all ready to go. If you see Lance anytime soon, tell him I said hello.” She handed Tricia her purse. “Who knows, I might call him myself and just check in.”

Tricia didn’t know what to say. “Thanks. I appreciate your help.” With quick steps, she made her escape, dialing 9-1-1 as she went. The dispatcher told her that the sheriff was waiting for her out front.

Once she passed through the automatic doors, she waved at the handsome lawman. “Hey, I’m over here, Kane.”

“Great! How did it go?”

“He told me to check in with my regular doctor.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

She crawled into the front of the squad car, since her balloons took up most of the room in the back. A thought struck her that Nurse Cox might tell Lance what she’d learned today. She wondered if nurses had some type of code of honor like doctor/client privilege. Dratz, she doubted it. Oh well, she was probably overestimating her conversational appeal.

“To the lumber yard, you say?”

Kane’s question jerked Tricia’s attention back to the present. “Yes, the delivery is for Nolan. His wife wanted to give him something unexpected for his birthday.”

“I hope the sudden appearance of the squad car driving up doesn’t dampen the surprise.” Kane chuckled at the thought.

If it did, Tricia couldn’t tell it. Nolan seemed genuinely touched by his wife’s actions. He did ask why she required a police escort to make the delivery, but Kane took advantage of the situation to pass out some tickets to the county’s law enforcement fundraiser.

Once Tricia was back at her shop, she made the necessary phone calls to her insurance agent, then walked the three blocks to Jon’s Auto Repair. She’d never met him before and the man proved to be kind as well as handsome. If she wasn’t already taken with one perfect cowboy, the strong mechanic with the kind eyes would’ve turned her head. “Thank you, Jon,” she said, giving permission for him to make the necessary repairs. “I think I will take you up on your offer of a loaner. I don’t think I can deliver all my orders on foot.” Whether or not she had the nerve to drive again was questionable, but Kristen would need the vehicle for deliveries.

“That would be a travesty, a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking anywhere.” Jon smiled, handing her the keys to a white minivan.

“Thank you so much.” Tricia was anxious to be on her way. Climbing behind the wheel of the vehicle made her nervous. If she’d suffered a seizure when the van crashed, another could come without warning. The distance she had to go was short, so Tricia played it safe and drove slowly along the back street to avoid any traffic. Tears came to her eyes. Why now? She’d been seizure free for a solid year! For a solid year, she’d kept Lance Rogers at arm’s length, when the only thing she really wanted to do was be as close to him as possible. “Don’t panic, you don’t know anything for sure.” If she experienced no other symptoms in the coming days, she would be thankful and chalk up her fears to fancy.

For now, she refused to continue worrying. She had too much to look forward to.

 

* * *

 “If you don’t pay attention to what you’re doing, Boss, you’re going to dig that posthole to China.”

Denver’s observation broke Lance’s rapt concentration. “Hell, you’re right, I think that’s probably deep enough.” He laughed, accepting the corner post his ranch hand passed to him to drop into place. “That’s enough fence repair for today, I suggest we head back to the bunkhouse.”

“Great. I have a date tonight and I need a shower like nobody’s business.”

“You do smell a little rank,” Lance teased the younger cowboy, handing him the tools to place in the toolbox on the back of the ranch truck. “Stepping out on a weeknight. Do you think that’s wise?”

“Oh, very wise, Lance.” Denver pushed his gray hat back and squinted into the setting sun as it made its last bid to shed light on a darkening world. “The lady I’m seeing is new to town and I want to throw my hat in the ring before the playing field gets too crowded. She’s special.”

Lance couldn’t help but notice the ranch hand’s enthralled expression. Whoever this woman was, she already had Denver Bolden wrapped around her little finger. “Who is this paragon of virtue?”

“Bryn. Bryn Harmon.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Lance said with all sincerity. “Let’s head out then, I don’t want you to keep Miss Bryn waiting.”

Drawing near to the ranch, Denver jumped out to open a wide aluminum gate and waved Lance on through. “Maybe you ought to do something more fun tonight than watch old westerns on the Nostalgia channel, Mr. Lance.”

Mr. Lance? He wasn’t that much older than Denver, was he? “I’m sure I’ll find something to do, Denver.” What he intended to do was give Tricia a call, just like he’d promised.

Once he finished his work for the day, Lance opened a can of chili and poured it into a bowl. After microwaving it for a few minutes, he liberally dosed the pungent concoction with hot sauce. Cracking open a can of beer, he settled down on the worn leather couch and ate it as fast as he could while watching the news. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could reach out to the woman who’d been occupying the majority of his thoughts for months. The kiss they’d shared had blown his mind. He’d been with his share of women, but none of them ever excited him like Tricia. She appealed to him on every level, not only was she sexy enough to bring him to his knees, she was sweet and kind, treating every task she was called upon to perform with dedication and enthusiasm.

Like that kiss.

God, he couldn’t get their kiss out of his head. He could still feel her lips beneath his. He’d never tasted anything so sweet.

Glancing at the clock, he decided she should be home from work and through with her supper. Lance had no need to look up her number tonight, he’d memorized it already. After entering the ten digits, he waited, holding his breath until he heard her first word.

His name.

“Lance?”

Fuck, he loved how she said his name.

Some people pronounced it flat, as if the word was pressed between two pieces of metal. Not so with Tricia, she gave his name life, making it sound shorter with a rounded feel. “Yea, Tricia, how are you?”

Tricia was curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow to her chest. Had he heard about her accident? She hadn’t even called to tell Avery about it yet. “I’m okay.” The inflection she gave her answer was almost a question. If he didn’t bring it up, she didn’t want to. She’d rather talk about anything else other than her ill luck.

“Good to know.” He let out a breath, like he was getting comfortable. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

Tricia shivered. She needed this so much. “You have? I’ve been thinking about you too.”

Lance could tell she was smiling, he could hear the happiness in her voice. “Are we too old to be doing this?”

“Doing what? Talking on the phone?”

“Yea, I’m not sure guys my age do this.” He propped one booted foot on the coffee table, sliding a palm from his knee up to his crotch, adjusting his already swelling erection.

“Oh, I think they do. The younger set sext, I think they call it.”

Lance chuckled. “Ah, see, I don’t understand that. If I’m going to talk sex with a woman, I want to hear her voice. If she’s going to make erotic little noises, I want to hear them.”

Tricia loved the way he was speaking to her. Without planning it, a tiny whimper slipped from her lips.

“Yea, just like that.” Lance groaned, “God, baby, I love talking to you like this. Have you ever sexted with anyone?”

“No. Have you?”

“No, I haven’t had phone sex either.”

“Me neither. Except now…if that’s what we’re doing.” Tricia blushed as she stammered out her words.

Lance laughed heartily. “I don’t know, is that what we’re doing?”

“I think we should have at least one date first.”

“Yea, at least one.” He laid his head back and stared at the ceiling. “You know…I almost gave up on you.”

Tricia stood and began to pace the floor, her heart racing. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“What took us so long, baby?” Lance asked, standing up to stare out the window, not really focusing on the herd of Santa Gertrudis cattle grazing nearby in the moonlight.

“I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to wait until I was perfect.” She walked to the big philodendron in the corner and removed a dead leaf. “And since I may not ever be, I’m afraid to wait.”

Lance couldn’t fathom what she meant. “You’ve always been perfect to me.” He touched his reflection in the glass, wishing he could touch her face. “I sure don’t want to wait any longer, it’s been a helluva year. The attempt on Skye’s life, the ups and downs with the McCoys, especially locating Noah’s mother and bringing her home, all of those things pulled me in a million different directions.”

“Oh, I understand. I keep up with everything through Avery and Isaac. She’s been through the wringer herself, it wasn’t that long ago she was attacked by that idiot Ajax again. You’re the man who holds Tebow together when the family has to be elsewhere, Lance.”

Lance shook his head, then realized she couldn’t see him. “I’ve been so busy living other people’s lives, I haven’t been living mine.”

Her mind went to Nurse Cox, but she pushed the thoughts away. Maybe he wanted to escape his past like she wanted to escape hers. “Me either.”

“Look, no matter the reason, we’ve waited too long.” His voice dropped to a very intimate level. “I want more of your kisses, beautiful.”

Tricia closed her eyes, ripples of awareness sweeping across her skin. “Me too. I can almost still feel them. I’ve never been kissed like that before.”

Lance checked the time on the clock. He was more than tempted to just drive to her place tonight. Hell, if he didn’t have to be up at the crack of dawn, he would. “Just the sound of your voice is turning me inside out.”

“I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered.

“If I could get my hands on you right now…” Lance groaned. Down, boy. He chided himself. This woman was different. She deserved to be treated with respect, to be courted. “Soon, baby, soon. Sunday’s not far away. We’ll spend a few minutes with the family, then sneak off to be alone. Okay?”

“Okay, I’ll think about you tonight, Lance.” Tricia walked to the window and stared out into the street below, her heart and mind full of hope for the future.

“You do that, baby. I’ll meet you in your dreams. Okay?”

“All right.” She smiled. “Goodnight.” Once the connection was broken, Tricia threw her arms in the air and spun around with joy. “I’ve got a date!”

 

* * *

 “Last hand, men, I’ve got work in the morning.” Lance announced as he drained a can of Shiner and tossed it in the trash basket next to the bar. They were playing in the pavilion, away from the prying eyes of little McCoys.

“Me too,” Canyon agreed, “I’m shoeing horses in the morning. If I don’t lose my shirt this round, I’ll break even. Who knew you were such a card shark, Rogers?”

“…know when to hold ‘em…know when…” Aron sang, which caused everyone else to groan.

“Don’t even start that, McCoy,” Bull Redford drawled as he passed out the cards, placing two down in front of each player. After he’d gone around the table, he laid five more cards face up across the middle between them. “You don’t have your brother’s singing voice.”

“Speaking of Joseph, where is he tonight?” Rogue Walker asked as he surveyed the hand he’d been dealt.

“Over in Louisiana, he and Cady went to visit Beau and Harley LeBlanc. Cady has a family reunion this weekend, so they’re letting one trip serve two purposes,” Jacob explained as he laid out some chips. “I’ve got a winning hand here, gentleman.”

“I raise you twenty.” Bull laid his cards down on the table. “The next time you see Joseph, tell him to come see me next week, I’d like to provide the stock for their Rascal Rodeo free of charge.”

“That’s nice of you, Redford,” Aron acknowledged. “You’ve got the best stock in the rodeo business as far as I’m concerned.”

“Thanks, I’m trying to branch out and add a bloodline I discovered down in Mexico, a fellow called Don Luis Cortez breeds some amazing animals. They’re a cross between the Spanish fighting bulls, Lidia, and Brahman.”

“Sounds like a volatile combination,” Lance observed, studying his hand. “I bet they’d make some great rodeo performers.”

“Cortez…Cortez…” Aron mused. “That name sounds familiar, I did a sculpture on a ranch down there a few years back.”

“I’m out, this is too rich for my blood.” Canyon folded his cards. “One of these days, I want to show you some of my work, Aron. Just to get your opinion.”

“Me too, I’m out.” Aron laid his cards on the table, face down. “Sure, Canyon, I’d love to see it. Bull tells me you weld metal sculptures.”

“Yea, I use scrap iron to make everything from bald eagles to horses.”

“Sounds intriguing, if I don’t get over there first, I’ll have Joseph stop by and take some photos when he visits Bull.”

“I don’t want to break up this art fest, but the game is still going on here.” Rogue stacked up a handful of chips. “I’ll meet your twenty, Bull, and raise you fifty.”

“Damn.” Jacob hissed out a long breath. “I’ve got a feeling I’m in over my head here.” He folded his cards and tipped his hat to Lance. “It’s up to you, bud. Don’t let me down.”

“I thought you had a winning hand?” Aron asked his brother.

“I was bluffing,” Jacob snorted. “Now, you know why our parents always thought I was the good son.”

“Come on, Walker, let’s see what you’ve got.” Lance studied Rogue’s face, trying to determine if he was reading his tell right. Ah, there it was. He licked his lower lip, quick, twice. Two dollars to a hole in a donut, the oilman wasn’t nearly as confident of his hand as he pretended to be.

“All right, you asked for it, boys.” He spread the cards out. “Three jacks and two kings.”

“Ah, Texas Holdem, no game on earth like it.” Lance grinned like a Cheshire cat as he displayed a royal flush. “Read ‘em and weep.”

“Good God,” Canyon exclaimed. “How did you do that?”

Rogue spoke before Lance could answer. “Luck of the draw, my boy, luck of the draw.”

Lance shook his head. “Not entirely. There was a little skill involved.” No matter. He was just glad the night was coming to an end. Rogue Walker was a master of the game and Lance didn’t have a lot to lose.

“What’s the best hand you were ever dealt?” Bull asked Rogue, watching the oilman sort through his chips.

Rogue pulled something from his pocket. “I’ve had a royal flush more than once, but that wasn’t the hand that won me the biggest prize.” He chunked a wad of cash toward Jacob. “I promised you a donation for your cancer charity, there’s my winnings from the Reno tournament.”

Jacob caught the green missile and pocketed it with a smile. “Thank you, I’ll put it to good use.”

“What was your biggest payoff? I heard you won a million-dollar pot in Vegas. What could be bigger than that?” Canyon asked Rogue, a little in awe of the legendary gambler.

“Well, I’ll tell you; I won the lien on a piece of property with a straight, but the lien wasn’t the prize. We had some ups and downs, but that winning hand gave me a second chance with Kit.”

“Second chance?” Aron asked. “I didn’t know you two were together before you hooked up in Kansas.”

Rogue drained his beer, then ate his last jalapeno. “We met in college. I was an ass.”

“That’s not new information, Walker.” Jacob snorted.

“Oh, she fixed my wagon, don’t ever doubt it. After our first date, I found myself walking down the road with nothing but my hat to hold over my bare dick. She got me naked, then took off with my clothes, stranding me out in the boonies.”

“What did you do to deserve that?” Lance asked, curious.

“Oh, I deserved it, all right. I let my mouth get the best of me. I said some things I shouldn’t have and hurt her feelings. It was stupid and I was wrong,” Rogue explained with a thoughtful look in his eye. “I’m just thankful it all worked out, I love that woman.” 

“Dang, walking buck naked down the road.” Canyon shook his head. “That’s worse than the time Bull’s ex-wife made him sleep in the horse trailer.”

Bull shook his head. “It might be worse, but there’s a world of difference in the women. Rogue’s wife is a lady and mine was a tramp.”

“Well, you’re rid of Carol, that’s what counts. I’ve been there, your ex and mine were cut from the same cloth.” Aron commiserated with Bull.

“How about you, Lance?” Jacob asked. “The way you play, surely you have a story.”

“I don’t play for money often.” He glanced at Jacob who just gave him a brief nod. “I’ve heard most players don’t always recall the pots they’ve won, but they never forget the big losses.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” Bull sighed, cashing his chips out of the game money. “I can remember the name of every bull who ever threw me.”

“My biggest loss wasn’t my own,” Lance confided in a low voice. “My father lost our ranch on a bad hand of Texas Holdem.”

“Fuck, I didn’t think people actually did things like that.” Canyon was amazed. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Lance cracked open another beer.

“What kind of jerk takes a man’s home away from him?” Aron stood and pushed his chair under the table.

“A jerk named Slade Lambert and his Jezebel of a wife.” Hatred boiled up inside Lance like a volcano about to erupt. Just saying the name Lambert made him sick. He hated these people with every fiber in his being. “He was a ruthless cheat and she was just evil.”

“You’re a good card player, Lance. Why don’t you challenge him to a game of cards or a damn duel?” Bull placed his hat on his head. “If you need a second, count me in.”

Lance stood to shake hands with his friends, bidding them goodnight. “Unfortunately, Lambert is dead. The widow has never seen fit to give me an audience. I heard a rumor she’s sick, but I don’t know that for certain. I’m afraid I’m running out of time. I have no idea who stands to inherit everything, but if I ever meet the man – he’s going to have trouble on his hands.”

 

* * *

 “So far, so good,” Tricia whispered to herself as she climbed into the backseat of the Uber vehicle. “Thanks for this, I know it’s going to be a long day.”

The young man waved in the rearview mirror. “No problem. I have an aunt who lives not far from your destination. I’ve been intending to visit her for a while. Just relax and time will fly by.”

Tricia held up her kindle. “I have a book to read.” Finally, she’d get to enjoy Sable Hunter’s Too Hot To Handle.

After about a half hour on the road, she shut off her tablet. Despite Avery’s considerable talent, Tricia couldn’t concentrate. She had too much on her mind.

Just the visit with her grandmother was traumatic enough. Their relationship was relatively new. Her parents split when she was four and the divorce was beyond messy. The only memories she could recall of her father’s parents were vague and colored by her mother’s caustic comments. It was only after her grandfather’s death that her grandmother saw fit to call and offer an olive branch. The timing couldn’t have been better for Tricia, she’d needed to make a change and the help she was offered made a new life possible.

“Business or pleasure?” the driver asked her, apparently noticing that she’d stopped reading and was staring at the passing Texas countryside.

“A little of both,” she murmured with a smile. She did look forward to seeing her grandmother, but even more proud to pay off a good chunk of the loan she’d been given to buy the florist shop.

After her answer, their conversation faded away. Tricia was grateful, she still had mulling to do. The way her body reacted to the fender bender worried her. Yes, she’d banged her head, but not hard enough to inflict a concussion. To pacify Avery and fulfill her promise to the ER doctor, she’d made an appointment to her regular physician for the following week. Tricia had downplayed the whole event to her partner. Avery didn’t even know about her history of epilepsy. She probably should’ve told her, but the seizures hadn’t been part of her life in a long while. When she moved to Kerrville, Tricia had hoped to leave that part of her life behind. So far behind, that she hadn’t even included her history with the disease on the medical forms at her regular doctor’s office. Tricia was holding onto the hope that the ER doctor had been right, but his diagnosis had been performed without any in-depth testing.

To be on the safe side, she’d decided not to drive anymore until she knew something for sure one way or the other. Kristen Royce, their after-school help, was used to making the deliveries and anywhere else Tricia needed to go, she could walk or hire a ride. For this longer jaunt, she’d called Uber and the rates were so reasonable, she thought she might use the service around town instead of a cab.    

Leaning her head against the glass, she watched the landscape change from the lush river-bottom country of Kerr County to the rocky wonderland south of Fredericksburg. Her grandmother owned a beautiful ranch north of Enchanted Rock, she didn’t really know how many acres or how much money she had, none of that concerned her. She wasn’t interested in most things wealth could buy. Other than her business and her friends, Tricia’s heart and mind was focused on only one thing – or, more correctly, one person.

Lance Rogers.

Daydreams of him were her constant companions. She’d built up this whole story in her head, probably because she was so used to hearing Avery plot out her books. Tricia always dreamed of starring in one of those romantic tales. Her favorite novels weren’t about billionaires or high-powered businessmen, she much preferred stories about everyday people, like cowboys and firemen. What appealed to her most was just the idea of having a husband who loved her and the chance to have a family. Those fantasies she’d told Lance about, he was always cast in the starring role. Her whole body flushed with arousal at the memory. “Oh, my gosh,” she whispered, remembering the naughty things she dreamed of doing with him.

“Did you say something?”

“No, no.” Tricia hid a grin. “I was just mumbling to myself.” Lying her head back, she announced, “I think I’ll take a nap. Wake me up when we’re about a half hour away from the ranch.”

“Sure thing.”

Only a few seconds later, or so it seemed, Tricia was awakened. “Miss, Miss, we’re here.”

Opening her eyes, she checked out her surroundings. Sure enough, she could tell they were getting close. The difference between her grandparent’s ranch and Tebow was activity. Tebow was bustling and North-Star was placid. There was only a few employees left and the stock was slowly being sold off. Her grandmother was methodically shutting the place down, only a few race horses remained. Tricia’s father had been killed in a small plane crash years before and as far as she knew, there was no one to take the reins if something were to happen to her grandmother. She didn’t like to think of such a thing, but it didn’t take a medical degree to see that her grandmother was sick. What would happen to North-Star then, Tricia didn’t know. There might be distant relatives she wasn’t aware of, Tricia just didn’t know her grandmother well enough to be sure of these things.

When the car drew to a stop in the circle drive, she signed the receipt, making sure to tip the guy. She could tell the driver was impressed by the stately Georgian mansion. “Can I call you when I’m ready to leave?” she asked.

“Yea, I’m not in a big hurry,” he told her. “Even if you decide to stay the night, that would be fine.”

“I don’t plan on staying more than a few hours.” Tricia couldn’t help but smile. “I have plans tomorrow.”

Big plans. With Lance.

Walking up the steps of the intimidating home, Tricia used the big knocker to tap on the door. When no one answered, she rang the doorbell, hearing resounding peals coming from within. In a few moments, footsteps could be heard on the other side. The door was opened by Henderson, the family butler, a stoic looking man who looked to be on his last legs. “Madam.” He stepped back to allow Tricia entrance. “May I take your wrap?”

“I think I’ll keep it, Henderson, thank you.” She held onto the sweater that she’d brought along to ward off the chill which seemed to emanate from the very walls of the cavernous home. When her grandmother appeared, Tricia couldn’t help but notice how frail she looked. “Hello, am I early?”

“Not at all, my dear, come in. You’re right on time. Could you bring us some tea, Henderson?”

The old man mumbled and shuffled off. After exchanging a somewhat awkward hug, Marcelle Lambert led Tricia into a cozy room off the kitchen. “How was your trip?”

“Fine.” She didn’t mention the Uber driver, no use worrying her grandmother unnecessarily. “How are you feeling?”

The older lady waved her arthritic hand. “I’m as well as can be expected. Come sit down and tell me how you’ve been doing.”

“Oh, I’m good. Business is booming.” Not seeing any reason for delay, she opened her purse and took out the check. “Here’s the payment as promised, right on time.”

Marcelle took the proffered piece of paper, but quickly laid it aside without glancing at it. “Thank you.”

Tricia wondered if the check would ever be cashed. Oh well, she wouldn’t touch the money, it didn’t belong to her. “Have you been doing any traveling?” she asked as Henderson came back carrying a silver tea service.

Her grandmother shook her head as she accepted a cup from her butler. “No, I’d planned to travel to Scotland, but I’m afraid my trip will be delayed.” She gave Tricia a wink. “I’ve been binge watching Scandal. Are you familiar with that program?”

The answer she received amused Tricia. “I’ve heard of it. I don’t watch much television. If I’m not working in the shop, I’m reading or working in my yard behind the shop.” Accepting a cup of tea from Henderson, she mumbled her thanks and sat it down on the side table. Taking out her phone, she pulled up some photos. “See, I raise old-fashioned roses, just like you. Aren’t they pretty?”

Her grandmother looked closely. “They are beautiful. My flowers are outstanding this year, no thanks to me.” She held up her hands, frowning at the twisted fingers. “I can’t do things like I used to.” Focusing on her granddaughter, Marcelle narrowed her eyes behind the thick spectacles. “As young and beautiful as you are, you shouldn’t be alone. Are you seeing anyone?”

“No, I’m not. I have friends, but no one special.” At least not yet. Tricia eased back on the sage green couch, debating with herself over how much she should say. When she was younger, she’d longed for a grandparent. Now that she had one, she was reluctant to share. Her grandmother’s face was kind though, and soon Tricia found herself opening up. “Well, there is one man…”

“Oh, really? Does he live in Kerrville?”

“Just outside of town, he’s the foreman at Tebow Ranch.”

“I see.” Marcelle looked pleased. “An outdoorsman, a man’s man. I assume he is handsome?”

Tricia blushed. “Oh, yes.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly been out with him yet…” Tricia fidgeted in her seat, picking up a pillow. “There just hasn’t seemed to be a right time. His work keeps him busy and I…I probably haven’t made it easy. I’m not the most social of people.”

“You’ve grown into a lovely young woman. As bad as I hate to admit it, your mother and stepfather did a good job of raising you.” Marcelle’s voice was kind, but firm. “If you’re letting your past hold you back, you shouldn’t,”

Tricia shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about her epilepsy. She wanted the past to stay in the past. Crossing her fingers, she hoped she wasn’t lying. “Oh, I’m not. I’ve been feeling great.”

“Good to hear.” Rising slowly to her feet, Marcelle moved to her desk. “I have something for you.” She opened a drawer and rummaged around.

To save her grandmother steps, Tricia went to join her. “You do? What is it?”

“Just a copy of the photo I had Henderson take of us and Falcon the last time you visited.” 

Tricia accepted the framed photo depicting them standing on either side of Marcelle’s prize horse. She’d signed it, To my Granddaughter, with Love. “Thank you, I’ll put it on my desk.” She slipped the gift into her purse.

“You’re welcome.” Marcelle picked up an ornate cane next to her chair. “Would you like to stroll in the garden?”

“Oh, please, yes.” Tricia smiled. “You know flowers are my passion.” She held the older lady’s arm as they made their way through a set of French doors and into the fragrant summer air.

“Now, tell me, what is your young man’s name.” Marcelle asked as they wound their way through beds of roses and other flowering plants.

“Lance. Lance Rogers.” Beneath her fingers, she could feel her grandmother stiffen. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Rogers, you say?”

“Yes, I’m not sure where he’s from. I don’t think he grew up in Kerrville.” Tricia shrugged. “I’m not certain, I haven’t been there that long myself.”

“I would love to come see your shop, if that would be okay.”

The suggestion surprised her. “I’d love for you to come. I’m very proud of it and you’re the one who made it possible.” She’d been disappointed that her mother hadn’t taken the time to visit and the prospect of showing it off to her grandmother thrilled Tricia.

“Excellent. Would the middle of next week be a good time?”

“Absolutely, you’re welcome anytime.” Impulsively, she stopped and hugged Marcelle Lambert. They still had a long way to go in their relationship, but this was a great start. “I look forward to your company.”

As they continued their journey through the garden, Tricia couldn’t help but be happy. For the first time in her life, everything seemed to be falling into place.