The Virgin and Zach Coulter. Lois Dyer Faye

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only been a few feet away when she attempted to step around the older, beefy cowboy blocking her path.

      Zach registered the instant tenseness that gripped the slim, curvy female body.

      Then she’d turned and he’d seen her face. Heart-shaped, with dark brows winging above deep blue eyes, high cheekbones, a stubborn little chin below a lush mouth—she was outrageously feminine.

      The swift urge to protect and claim swept through him.

      Down the sidewalk, Cynthia stepped off the curb and opened the driver’s door of a bright red sports car. A moment later, she backed out of the parking slot and drove away.

      Zach shook his head. He hadn’t reacted to a woman with this much instant lust since he was a teenager. He shrugged and turned to stride to the entrance of the Anderson Law Office only yards away.

      It must be the lack of sleep, he told himself.

      Even as he blamed his reaction to Cynthia on exhaustion, Zach knew he was lying. He had to admit she’d knocked him off stride without trying, and when she’d smiled …

      Damn, he thought ruefully. Just thinking about her smiling up at him was enough to make him want to turn around, find her and see if he could tease her into laughing again.

      He realized he was standing outside the law office door, a half smile on his face, and shook his head to clear it.

      He needed to focus on seeing the attorney and heading out to the Triple C.

      He couldn’t help but wonder what Ned Anderson might reveal about his father—and if the attorney could explain why Joseph Coulter had named his sons in his will. Zach had avoided any thoughts about his estranged father for so long that having to talk about him felt strange—and oddly painful.

      He steeled himself and pushed open the door.

       Chapter Two

      Chimes rang, announcing his presence as Zach entered the attorney’s office.

      “Is Ned Anderson in?” he asked the receptionist.

      “No, I’m sorry, he’s not. Do you have an appointment?” The older woman eyed him over half-glasses.

      “No. My brother told me to stop and talk to him before I head home, but if he’s not available I’ll come back tomorrow.” Zach turned toward the door, not the slightest disappointed that the lawyer wasn’t in. He’d rather be at the ranch, sleeping in a warm bed, instead of meeting with his father’s estate attorney. He’d been traveling nonstop for nearly a week to get this far. The journey from the base camp at Mount Everest, where he’d spoken with Cade, had required hiking with stubborn pack mules, a train to the nearest city, and finally several airline flights just to reach the U.S. This morning he’d boarded an 11:00 a.m. flight from Seattle to Billings, where he’d rented the truck and driven to Indian Springs.

      “Wait!” The woman’s voice stopped him and he looked back at her. “Are you Zach Coulter?”

      “Yeah.” He paused to look back at her.

      “Mr. Anderson had an emergency in Great Falls today, but he asked me to give you something if you arrived while he was gone.” She quickly bustled across the waiting area and entered an office. A second later, she popped back out. “Here it is.” She held out a sealed manila envelope and a silver ring holding a collection of metal keys. “He said to tell you the letter and enclosures explain everything and that he’ll be back in the office next week. He hopes you’ll come in to see him then.”

      Zach took the keys and envelope from her outstretched hand.

      “I’ll do that.” He nodded and left the office. He returned to his truck, tossing the envelope on the passenger seat and shoving the key ring into his jeans pocket before backing out. As he drove off, he glanced at the wide plate-glass window of the attorney’s office. Anderson’s receptionist watched him, lifting a hand in a wave of farewell.

      He returned the gesture, realizing that he’d forgotten how friendly the people in his hometown could be. He liked the energy and convenience of living in San Francisco. It was the perfect base for someone who traveled as much as he did. But he couldn’t remember the last time a business acquaintance in the city had waved goodbye to him.

      Zach obeyed the twenty-five miles per hour speed limit, giving him time to assess the buildings and shops lining Main Street. Surprisingly, not much had changed in the thirteen years he’d been gone. The Black Bear Bar and Restaurant still took up the corner across from the pharmacy. The big door of Miller’s Feed Store was rolled up and stood open for business. The neon sign over the Indian Springs Café still flashed bright red, and Connors Auto Parts had dusty ranch trucks parked at the curb out front.

      There were several small shops he didn’t remember but all in all, Zach was pleasantly surprised to find his hometown apparently alive and well.

      Driving through the center of the town where he’d grown up brought a wash of memories. Picking up speed as he drove toward the Triple C, every mile that brought him closer to his boyhood home held even more.

      At last he slowed, braked to turn off the highway and drove beneath a tall, welded metal arch that spelled out Coulter Cattle Company in graceful curves. The lane was edged with pastures dotted with sagebrush before it rounded the base of a butte and topped a rise.

      Zach braked, letting the engine idle. At nearly five o’clock the late-afternoon sun highlighted the familiar buildings clustered at the foot of a flat-topped butte on the far side of the valley. From this distance, the ranch looked exactly the same as it had on the morning he’d driven away years ago—for what he’d sworn was the last time.

      And damned if he wasn’t glad to be here, he thought with surprise. He hadn’t seen Cade in nearly a year and it was always good to catch up with his brother. As for returning to the ranch? There was an odd mix of reluctance to see the place and an uncomfortable weight on his chest that reminded him of the way he’d felt after his mother had died. That same heaviness had returned when he’d left the Triple C, and again when Cade had told him Joseph was dead.

      He shook his head. He’d never spent a lot of time examining his feelings and he didn’t plan to start now. It was enough that he wasn’t turning the truck around and heading back to San Francisco.

      What the hell, he thought with a shrug. Life was full of surprises. He’d never expected to be driving down this road again.

      He shifted the truck into gear and left the crest of the hill, following the gravel road as it descended to the valley floor. The wood-and-iron bridge rattled beneath the wheels as he crossed the creek before the road climbed again to reach the buildings.

      Zach automatically swung the truck in a wide circle before parking in front of the house with the nose of the truck pointing toward the exit.

      An older pickup sat in front of the bunkhouse across the graveled ranch yard, and a newer model silver truck was parked just beyond Zach’s pickup.

      Guessing the newer vehicle belonged to Cade, Zach grabbed his duffel bag from the jump seat and stepped out, stretching in an attempt to relieve the aches from the long days of nonstop travel.

      The gate in the fence to the

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