A Wife in Wyoming. Lynnette Kent

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A Wife in Wyoming - Lynnette Kent Mills & Boon American Romance

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warmth of his skin against hers was nearly as distracting as the smile. “Fifteen years, believe it or not, since graduation. I hear you’ve done magnificent things in San Francisco.”

      “I do my job. What have you been up to?”

      Garrett stepped up beside his brother. “Caroline runs the Department of Family Services in Bisons Creek. She’s working with the area’s disadvantaged families.”

      “Really?” Ford lifted a disbelieving eyebrow.

      Caroline nodded. “Really,” she said, and at that moment realized they were still holding hands. She slid hers quickly out of his grasp. “I majored in psychology, got my master’s degree in social work and was with the department in Casper for four years before moving back here. There are people in trouble in this area, just like anywhere else, especially the teenagers. High school is a lot more dangerous now than when we were there.”

      He crossed his arms over his chest, which only made his shoulders broader. “So I understand. Garrett said you have a project you want to talk to me about.”

      “I do.” She glanced around and noticed the volunteers were cleaning up the refreshment table. “Now might not be the best time, though. Could you meet me in town for lunch tomorrow?”

      He glanced at Garrett. “I’m here to take on some of the work Wyatt can’t get to. I expect I’ll be in the saddle all day tomorrow. What about right now? Kate’s Café is still open on Sundays, right?”

      “I’ve got some sick parishioners to visit,” Garrett said. “I can’t take a break for lunch today.”

      Caroline hesitated. She’d expected to have Garrett’s support when she explained her plan. Would she be as persuasive by herself?

      Ford read her indecision. “If you’re busy, maybe later in the week...?”

      “No, not at all.” She would do this and do it well, for the kids. “Right now is perfect. Shall we meet there in about ten minutes?”

      Dylan sauntered up. “Hey, Miss Caroline. You are looking especially fine today.”

      She gave him the big smile he deserved. “Thank you so much, sleepyhead.”

      He flushed and pushed his dark hair back off his face. “Stayed up till dawn working on a piece. Then somebody stomps in at seven and drags me out of bed to feed horses.” His gaze went to Ford. “So I’m a little short on shut-eye.” He yawned for emphasis. “Going home to bed.”

      Ford propped his hands on his hips. “That leaves me without a ride.”

      Caroline swallowed hard. “No problem. We can go to the café in my truck. I’ll run you home after.”

      His gaze, meeting hers, was hard to read. “Great. I’m interested to hear what you have to say.” He stepped forward and pressed the tips of his fingers against her shoulder blade. “Shall we?”

      They got a few interested stares from lingering church members as she led the way to her truck. Caroline wanted to yell, “Just business!” at them but restrained herself. She wondered if Ford would prefer that she had.

      She unlocked the truck from a distance with the electronic key and was surprised when he followed her to the driver’s side to open the door.

      “Th-thanks,” she said, after climbing in with as much grace as she could manage in a dress.

      “You’re welcome.” He shut the door, came around the back and swung into the passenger seat with a cowboy’s smooth control.

      “You’re still at home in a truck, I see.” She let her gaze brush over him as she turned her head to reverse out of the parking space. “Do you drive one in San Francisco?”

      “I’ve got a Mercedes for town. The clients prefer it.”

      “Do they know your ranch background at the law office?”

      “My partners are aware. I have some pictures in my office, but most people don’t notice. They’re concerned with their own issues, not mine.”

      “Not like Bisons Creek, where everybody wants to hear your business?”

      “Not remotely like Bisons Creek, which has its good and bad points.”

      The drive to Kate’s Café took all of three minutes. Caroline parked in a spot the next block up—one of the five blocks that made up Main Street—because the lot around the restaurant was full. They didn’t talk as they walked to the café, but the never-ending Wyoming wind blew her hair in all directions.

      Caroline sighed. She would be giving an important presentation to the most intelligent, educated and sophisticated man she knew in front of at least half of the town’s citizens, and she’d look as if she’d walked through a tornado. Great.

      Ford held the door open for her again when they reached the café. The bell on the handle rang as he came through behind her, and every face in the building turned in their direction. Caroline kept her smile in place and scanned the suddenly silent crowd for a table.

      “Here ya go, son.” Marvin Harris stood up from the table in the front corner. “The missus and I are done. You’re welcome to sit here.”

      “Thanks, Mr. Harris.” Ford shook the older man’s hand and his wife’s. “Good to see you, Mrs. Harris. How are those grandsons of yours? I hear they’re real firecrackers.”

      “You got that right.” Mr. Harris chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “Caught them one day trying to fly out of the hay loft with a pair of wings they’d made out of cardboard. Lucky they didn’t break their darn fool necks!” He turned to Caroline. “Hello, Missy. How’s your mama these days?”

      “Just fine, Mr. Harris, thank you.” At least, she hoped so. She hadn’t visited with her mom in almost a month.

      Mrs. Harris walked up to Ford and patted his arm. “It’s about time you finished with this San Francisco foolishness, boy, and came back home where you belong. Get yourself a wife and some kids and settle down.” As she left, she gave Caroline a wink that Ford would surely notice. “You two have a nice afternoon.”

      Just kill me now, Caroline said to herself. It can only get worse from here.

      By the time Ford had pulled out Caroline’s chair and then settled into his own, one of the waitresses had come to clean the table. “Thanks, Angie.”

      Caroline said the same thing at the same moment. Their gazes met and held before sliding apart.

      “How’s school?” Ford asked the waitress.

      “Good.” The college sophomore gave him a grin. “I made the rodeo team. Cool, huh?”

      He nodded. “As long as you remember to study for classes.”

      Angie stuck her tongue out at him and turned to Caroline. “You rode for the University of Wyoming team,

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