dwelling on her parents, who’d turned their backs on their daughter at the time when she’d needed them the most.
A half hour later, the two women had the kitchen organized enough to call it a night. Angela exited the back of the house carrying a box full of leftovers, enough for two or three suppers for her and Melanie.
In the backyard, she walked along a path lit with footlights until she reached the far western side of the house where she’d parked her little economy car beneath a liveoak. She was carefully placing the box of food on the back floorboard when she heard the faint crunch of gravel directly behind her.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jubal. Alone. And walking directly toward her.
Hating the way her heart was pounding, Angela shut the door, then turned to face him. The man had hurt her in ways she didn’t want to think about. All she should be feeling at this moment was intense hatred. But try as she might, she couldn’t hate him. After all, he’d given her the most precious gift a man could give a woman. His child.
“Hello, Angie.”
There was only a small filtering of light slanting from the big house to the spot where they were standing. She could barely make out his face, but that didn’t matter. She’d not forgotten the shape of his rough, hawkish features, the gold flecks in his green eyes, the thick tumble of sandybrown hair falling across a wide forehead. His face was too striking to ever forget.
She swallowed. “Hello, Jubal.”
His hands were casually stuffed in the pockets of his western-cut trousers and, as her eyes flicked up and down the long length of him, she realized his body had remained fit the past five years. His shoulders were still broad, his thighs muscular, his waist just as trim as the day she’d first seen him, squatted on his heels, doctoring her father’s sick goat.
After a long silence between them, he spoke again, “I’ve been waiting a few minutes in hopes of catching you. I didn’t get a chance to speak to you inside.”
Hurt and anger swirled together and simmered in the pit of her stomach. “I served five courses. Guess I wasn’t around the table long enough for you to look up and say hello.”
He let out a long breath and wiped a hand over his face. She could see his discomfort. See that he didn’t know how to deal with her presence. Well, she couldn’t feel sorry for the man. He’d made his bed and she hoped he’d been miserable in it.
“Looks like you’re not going to cut me any slack, are you?”
“Why should I?” she quickly countered.
He looked toward the big house, then wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. “All right, I deserve that. And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you sooner.” He looked at her. “But seeing you—damn it, I was shocked. What are you doing here on the Sandbur? I never expected to see you in a place like this.”
Her nostrils flared as she tried to hold on to her temper. What the hell did he think she was doing? Serving a dinner party just for the fun of it?
“I’m working. What are you doing? Rubbing elbows with the rich?” Instantly, she plopped a hand over her mouth in feigned regret. “Oh, sorry. I forgot—you are the rich.”
Frowning, he stepped closer as his gaze swallowed up her pale face. “I expected you to throw some cutting things at me, Angie, but not that.”
The last he said with a hint of regret and a glaze of tears was suddenly started burning the back of Angela’s eyes. She wasn’t a vengeful, vindictive person. So why was she behaving this way to Jubal?
“I’m not a girl anymore, Jubal. I’m a woman. And I guess things—people—look different to me now.” Which was true enough, she thought. When she’d been dating Jubal she’d been a happy, loving, carefree person. There hadn’t been a bitter bone in her body—until he’d decided to end their relationship and run to another woman. Now she was cautious about putting her trust in anyone.
Drawing his hands out of his pockets, he folded his arms against his chest. Angela’s gaze zeroed in on his left hand where it curved around his right elbow. Not for the first time tonight, she noticed his wedding-ring finger was empty. Again, she was reminded that Evette hadn’t been by his side tonight. She could only speculate on the woman’s whereabouts. This was a big night for Jubal. Angela couldn’t imagine the socialite not wanting to share the spotlight with her spouse.
“I had no idea that you were here on the Sandbur,” he admitted. “If I’d known—well, I would have looked you up before now.”
Five years had passed and she’d not heard a word from him. Until tonight, when happenstance had forced him to see her. She found it difficult to believe that he would have sought her out.
Pain crept through her chest, while sarcasm edged her one word question. “Really?”
From the grimace on his face, he obviously considered her presence on the ranch a nuisance. Well, she could tell him that having him around wasn’t exactly making her want to shout hallelujah, either.
“I’m not quite the bastard you think, Angie.”
There was no malice or anger in his voice, but then, he had no reason to be spiteful, she thought as she struggled to keep from breaking into sobs. He’d gotten what he wanted.
“I came to work here two months ago,” she said hoarsely. “A few days after I’d been on the job, I heard through the grapevine about the ranch hiring a resident vet. I didn’t know—until tonight—that it was you. But don’t worry, Jubal, I’m not going to give you or your family any problems by trying to stir up old ashes.”
He looked uncomfortably down at his boots. “I…wasn’t exactly worried about that.”
When he didn’t add more, Angela decided to plunge ahead. After all, she didn’t expect that they would be speaking to each other again. His work here would hardly cause them to brush elbows.
“So—where’s Evette? Didn’t she want to come to your party tonight?”
His gaze lifted to hers and something in his expression made her heart leap.
“I’m not married to Evette anymore.”
Chapter Two
Shock hit Angela’s stomach and twisted it into hard knots. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Our marriage ended in divorce—about a year after it began.”
His features were expressionless as though he were talking about the weather or something mundane, not a life-altering event. As for Angela, emotions were colliding inside her, sending tiny tremors through every nerve in her body. He’d gotten divorced shortly after Melanie had been born. Oh God, if she’d known, what would have happened? Anything?
“Well, I should say I’m sorry. But it’s just not in me, Jubal.”
His shrug was negligible, as though his divorce meant nothing to him. Angela wanted to scream at him for being so casual. Did he not understand that his marriage had totally devastated her life? Or did he just not care?
“That’s all right.
