and her temper was at war with her hormones.
Nathan was a force of nature. One that apparently was destined to crash in and out of her life whether she wanted him to or not. And the worst part?
“He walked away. Again.”
She poured a fresh glass of wine, forced herself to eat the overdone potatoes and promised herself the next time she and Nathan were in the same room, she would be the one doing the walking.
The Battlelands Ranch glowed in the darkness. It stood like a proud dowager, waiting to welcome home its prodigal children. Practically every window shone with lamplight. Even the outbuildings—the barn, the foreman’s house and Nathan’s own place—boasted porch lights that formed brightly lit pathways.
Just like always, Nathan felt tension slide away as he drove down the oak-lined drive and steered his 4Runner toward the house he’d had built for himself when he moved back to Royal. He might not be a rancher these days, but the land was in his blood as much as it was in his younger brother Jacob’s. The Battles had been on this land for more than a hundred and fifty years. They’d carved out every acre. Bled for it. Wept for it, and managed to hold on to it through all the bad times that had come their way.
The heart of the main ranch house was the original structure, a stately Victorian that the first Battle in Texas had built more than a hundred and fifty years ago to please his new bride. Over the years, that turreted, gingerbread-adorned structure had been added to, with wings spreading from each side and spilling into the back. Most of the ranch houses in the area were more modern, of course. Some mansions, some simple houses, they were all interchangeable in Nathan’s eyes.
This place was unique because the Battles didn’t tear something down just because it was old. They fixed it, improved on it and kept it, always to remind them of where they’d come from. Now that stately old Victorian was the centerpiece of a ranch bigger and more prosperous than that first Battle could ever have dreamed.
Gnarled, twisted live oaks stood like ancient soldiers on either side of the drive and gathered in clumps along the front and rear of the house. As Nathan parked his car and climbed out, he heard the swish of leaves in the grudgingly moving hot air.
From the main house came the sharp, clear sound of children’s laughter, and Nathan smiled to himself. Lots of changes here at the Battlelands—mostly thanks to Jacob and his wife, Terri. They and their three kids were making this place come alive again as it hadn’t since Nathan and Jake were kids themselves.
He glanced quickly at the wading pool and the nearby wooden swing set and climbing gym he’d helped Jacob put together for the kids. That laughter spilled from the house again and Nathan instinctively quelled the small twist of envy he felt for what his brother had. He knew Jake was happy. He had a family and the ranch he loved and Nathan didn’t begrudge him any of it.
Still, it was a stunner that his younger brother had a wife and kids, but Jake had taken to life as a family man as easily as he had assumed control of the ranch years ago.
Nathan loved the place and it would always be home to him, but the ranch had never been at the heart of him as it had for Jake. As long as Nathan could remember, he had wanted to be a cop, while Jake wanted nothing more than to ride the range, and deal with the cattle grazing on the thousands of acres the family claimed. It had worked out well, Nathan told himself. Didn’t matter that he was the eldest. It was enough for Nathan that the Battlelands was in good hands—even if those hands weren’t his.
And, since Terri was pregnant again, Nathan knew that the family ranch was going to be in Battle hands for many more years to come. He couldn’t help wondering what Jake thought of that, if his brother ever sat down and realized that his sons and daughters would be working the same land that had been handed down to him.
That twist of envy grabbed at him again and Nathan couldn’t help wondering how his life might be right now if Amanda had carried their child to term. Would they still be together? Would there be more children? He tried to imagine it, but couldn’t quite pull it off.
The ranch house door opened just then and a spill of light from inside poured onto the wide front porch. Grateful for the distraction, Nathan watched as his brother stepped out of the house. Talking to Jake would help him get his mind off of Amanda. Hopefully. His thoughts were crowded with her.…
God, the taste of her. The scent of her. The feel of her body aligning with his and the hush of her breath on his skin—damn it.
Jake leaned against one of the porch posts and asked, “Late night?”
“A few things to see to,” he answered vaguely and headed toward the main house.
Jake came down the steps, holding a beer in each hand. He was as tall as Nathan, but where Nathan was broad and muscled, Jake was wiry. His dark brown hair was a little too long, his jeans were worn and faded and his boots were as scarred and scuffed as Nathan’s own. He was slow and steady and more at ease with himself and his world than Nathan had ever been.
Jake went his own way and managed to have a good time while he was doing it. Nathan had always admired that trait in his younger brother.
With a wide grin, Jake handed over one of the frosty bottles. Grateful, Nathan accepted it and took a long drink. When Jake wandered off, Nathan followed his brother across the yard toward the swing set. Apparently, Jake wanted to talk—away from the house. But nothing would get Jake talking before he was good and ready, so Nathan just enjoyed the night and the returning sanity now that he was a safe distance from Amanda.
He’d thought he was well and truly over her. Nathan had deliberately put her out of his mind years ago. He’d lost himself in work and in the arms of the willing women who’d come and gone from his life without leaving so much as a trace of themselves behind. So yeah, he’d figured with Amanda back in town, he’d face her down and keep moving on.
But the hard ache in his body let him know that though his mind had let her go, the rest of him hadn’t. And there she was again, he thought in disgust. Right back in his thoughts, front and center. He closed his mind to the memories and focused on the now.
There were a few dawn-to-dusk lights around the play area and he took a second or two to look it over. He and Jake had dug out the wide area beneath the playground equipment and then poured enough fine sand to sink an aircraft carrier. It had taken the two of them nearly two weeks to get everything set up and finished off for safety, but knowing his niece and nephews loved it made all the work worth the effort.
Made of sanded, polished wood—to prevent splinters in tiny hands—the climbing gym sprawled across the pristine lawn as if it had grown in that spot. Jake’s five-year-old twin sons and their two-year-old sister loved climbing on it and especially enjoyed the castle-like room at the top. Gave him a good feeling, seeing the next generation of Battles clambering all over the structure, hooting and hollering at each other, just like he and Jake had done when they were kids. It also made him remember that if things had turned out differently, his own child might have been playing here as well.
He shook off that disquieting thought and buried it under another long drink of his beer.
Jake slapped one hand against the swing set and blurted, “So, how’s Amanda?”
Nathan almost choked on his swallow of beer. When the coughing ended and he could breathe again, he looked at his younger brother. “How the hell did you know I went to see her?”
Jake shrugged. “Mona Greer was walking that tiny excuse
