began.
“Death is never easy.” Reverend Green looked out at the crowded pews, his face grim, his voice solemn. “But the death of one so young, with such promise, is beyond words.”
Kasey had told herself she’d be strong. That Jeanie would have wanted her to be. But the blackness inside her, the emptiness, kept pulling at her, threatening to overtake her. She kept her eyes to the front of the church, at the flowers covering the casket.
It wasn’t Jeanie. It wasn’t.
An arm came around her shoulders. Slater. When had she started to cry? He pulled her close, held her. She would have crawled inside him if she could. It would be safe there.
She knew he was leaving. He hadn’t told her, but she’d seen his bags in the back of his truck.
“Slater,” she whispered. “Take me with you.”
He stilled, but said nothing.
“Please don’t leave me, too,” she murmured. “I love you.”
She felt, more than heard, his sigh. He cradled her against him, ran his hand over her hair. She breathed in the scent of his aftershave, felt the strong, steady beat of his heart under her fingertips, and she knew she’d never love again...
“Kasey, are you listening to me? I want you to think about this, that’s all I’m asking.”
Blinking slowly, she stared at Slater, forcing herself to focus on his words. How young and foolish she’d been. Of course she’d loved again. She’d met Paul one year later, hadn’t she?
She stepped away from Slater’s touch, from the heat that had begun to swirl up her spine. “I appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing to think about.”
“Kasey—” He turned and threw his hands out with exasperation. “You can’t just marry some strange guy. Let’s talk about this. Whatever problems you might—”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not marrying a strange guy. I’m not marrying anyone.”
He hesitated, then slowly turned back toward her. “You aren’t?”
“No. I never was.”
“You weren’t?”
She shook her head.
“But the ad, with your name and the Double D...”
Patience touched her smile. “I’m afraid my boys are the culprits. When we were in Dallas I placed an ad for a stud—as in stallion—for the mare I just bought. Cody and Troy decided to surprise me with an ad of their own.”
Kasey’s sons placed the ad? Slater suddenly found that he couldn’t speak. Perhaps it was due to the fact that his foot was in his mouth. He sank slowly into a chair at the kitchen table and simply stared at her.
She sat across from him, then flipped her hair off her shoulders and laughed hesitantly. “Somewhere they got the crazy idea that I, uh, could use a husband.”
Her cheeks flushed bright pink, emphasizing the deep green of her eyes. He felt like an idiot, talking to her as he had. Ten years might have made him older, but it sure as hell hadn’t made him any smarter.
“And here I thought I was saving you from doing something foolish,” he said, shaking his head. “Too bad there wasn’t someone to save me.”
“I’m glad there wasn’t,” she said quietly, holding her gaze steady with his. “Ten years is too long.”
The look in her eyes warmed him. It felt good, sitting in the kitchen with Kasey. He’d spent many an hour here, with the Donovans, at this very table, eating, talking, laughing.
He covered her hand with his and linked fingers. “I’m sorry about your folks, Kase. I was out of the country when it happened. By the time I found out and called, the number was disconnected. I didn’t know how to reach you.”
There was a high-pitched squeal from upstairs, a stomping of feet and the slam of a door. Kasey seemed oblivious to it.
“Paul and I never stayed in one place very long. The seven years we were married, I think we moved five times. He was easily bored.”
There was something in Kasey’s voice and the upward lift of her chin that had Slater’s jaw tightening and his protective defenses kicking into overdrive. He knew enough about pride to understand he couldn’t ask her about it. Not yet, anyway. “And the past two years?”
“The boys and I stayed in New York. I had a great job with an investment company that paid for schooling and offered flexible hours for working mothers. It gave me a chance to spend more time with my sons, take the classes I needed for my degree, and make a few good investments.” The ceiling fan over the kitchen table shook from a sudden pounding overhead. Kasey ignored it. “I’d had the ranch leased out, and once I had enough money saved, I came back here. I’m boarding a few horses right now, and as soon as I find the right stud for Miss Lucy, I’m going to start raising quarter horses. My boys are going to have the kind of life they deserve.”
Determination shone in her eyes. A fierce love for her children that summoned an unexpected stab of envy in his gut. Thank God there were mothers like Kasey to make up for the Paul Morgans and Jack Slaters in the world.
“Listen,” she whispered suddenly.
He did, but there was only quiet. Confused, he watched her straighten in her chair, her green eyes narrowing. She pulled her hand from his, and he couldn’t help but notice how smooth and soft her fingers were against his calloused palms. He started to say something, but she put one long, tapered finger to her lips. Lips that were wide and turned up at the corners, lips that could make a man forget himself.
Which was exactly what he was doing, dammit. He gave himself a mental kick and reined in his unwanted thoughts. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly. And therein lies the problem. Prepare yourself, Slater.”
“Prepare myself for—”
They hit with all the vengeance of a tornado. Two screaming banshees blew into the kitchen, arms flailing and feet flying. Troy was in the lead, his shrieks a mixture of terror and laughter; Cody was on his brother’s heels, his red face blazing with anger, his hair wet and dripping with green goo.
“I’m gonna rip your liver out,” Cody wailed. Troy stuck out his tongue. Slater ducked as Cody flung a wad of the green slime at Troy. They circled the table twice, then darted out the back door.
Slater stared at the open back door. “Shouldn’t we be calling the paramedics?”
Kasey’s laugh was deeper than he’d remembered, richer. “You haven’t been around kids much, have you?”
Hardly. Jared Stone had a two-month-old baby, and Jake, Jared’s brother, had a one-month-old. At a family gathering only a few days ago, Savannah, Jake’s wife, had insisted that Slater hold both babies for a picture. Before he knew it, he’d been corralled onto the couch with a tiny baby girl in each arm. He’d faced guerrillas
