“A man,” she agreed, and let it go at that, not looking at him. “What do you think I did in New York, stare out windows longing to be back here?” That was the truth, little did he know it. The glitter had long ago worn off her life there, leaving it barren and lonely.
“Not me, honey,” he said. “I know all too well how dull this place is to you. You’ve done everything but shout it from the roof.” He glared at her. “Did the man come too close, Abby? Did he want to settle down, and you couldn’t face the thought of that?”
She stared at him blankly. “Is that shocking?” she asked, adding fuel to the fire. “I told you, Cade, I like my life the way it is. I like having money to spend and things to see and places to go. I went to Jamaica to do a layout last month, and in September I’m going to Greece for another one. That’s exciting. It’s great fun.”
He stared at her with cold eyes, believing the lie. “Yes, I can see that,” he growled.
He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it while his eyes ran quietly over every line of her face. “Then where does your boyfriend come in?”
She swallowed and turned away. “He wasn’t...a boyfriend, and it’s a long story.”
“I’ll find time to listen.”
She shifted restlessly and turned. “Not tonight, if you don’t mind. I’d like to say hello to Jerry.”
He drew in an angry breath, and for just an instant she thought he was going to insist. But he reached past her and opened the door.
She went ahead of him, relieved that he’d swallowed her explanation. Boyfriend! Oh, God, what a horrible joke that was, but she’d rather have died than tell him the truth. Anyway, what would it matter? Let him think she was just getting over a love affair. What did it matter?
Melly was curled up on the sofa next to the tall, blond man who was going to be her husband. They both jumped when Cade deliberately slammed the door behind Abby and himself.
“Oh, hi, boss.” Jerry Ridgely grinned, looking over the sofa back with dancing blue eyes. “Hi, Abby, welcome home!”
“Thanks, Jerry,” she said, grinning back. She’d known him almost as long as Melly had. One of the advantages of growing up in country like this was that you knew most everybody from childhood onward. It gave people a sense of security to know that some things stayed constant.
“Staying for the wedding?” he asked, and Melly smiled at her sister.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she promised. “Which reminds me, Melly,” she added, sticking her hands in her pockets, “I’ve roughed out some sketches for your wedding dress. They’re in my suitcase.”
“I’d love to see them,” Melly said, enthusiastic. “You’re sure you don’t mind making it for me?”
“Don’t be silly, of course I don’t mind. Sometimes I wonder why I got into modeling when I love designing so much.” Abby sighed. Modeling. The word reminded her of New York, which brought back other memories, and she turned away, her eyes clouding.
Melly got to her feet quickly. “Let’s go see if Calla has the berry cobbler dished out,” she said, catching Abby’s arm. “Can you men live without us?”
“Cade can.” Jerry laughed, glancing toward the taciturn rancher. “But I’ll have trouble, sweetheart, so hurry, will you?”
“Sure,” Melly agreed, in a tone that was meant for the foreman alone. She winked and tugged Abby along with her, closing the door behind them.
“Have you and Cade been at it again?” she asked Abby as soon as the door was closed behind them. “He looks like a thundercloud, and you’re flushed.”
“He’s persistent as all get-out,” Abby groaned. “He nearly backed me into a corner in the kitchen just now. He’s not going to worm it out of me, Melly. I can’t talk to him about it, I can’t!”
Melly sighed and hugged her sister. “Oh, Abby, I hoped you might be able to, once the two of you were alone.”
“Talk to Cade?” She laughed. “My God, all I have time to do is defend myself. He’s even worse than I remembered. Why does he hate my career so much?”
“You really don’t know, do you?” Melly murmured.
Abby ignored that, wrapping her arms tight around herself. “We got into it in the truck, and I tried to hit him, and when he grabbed my wrist...” She shivered. “He’s so strong....”
“He’s also Cade,” Melly reminded her. “He’d never hurt you, not the longest day he lived.”
Abby tried to smile. “I want a miracle, I guess. I want Cade to touch me and make the fear all go away.”
“That could still happen,” Melly said softly. “But you have to give it time. And telling Cade the truth would be a heck of a start. For God’s sake, Abby, it wasn’t your fault...!”
“So everyone tells me.” She sighed. “Let’s go help Calla. I just want to get my mind on something else right now. It will all work out somehow, I suppose. Someday.”
She carried that thought all through the long evening, watching Cade sit in his big chair and smoke cigarette after cigarette while he went over paperwork with Jerry and drank two neat whiskeys after the delicious dessert Calla put before them. Cade was so good to look at. He always had been, and the four years since he’d kissed her for the first time hadn’t changed him very much on the surface. He was still overpoweringly masculine. Strong and capable and as tough as well-worn leather.
She watched the way his hands held the sheets of paper in their firm grip. They were tanned and sprinkled with dark hair. He didn’t wear jewelry of any kind; the watch strapped around his wrist had a thick leather band and a dial that did everything except predict the future. He went in for utility, not style. But he managed to look like a fashion plate for all that, even in worn jeans and a faded shirt. He had a big, powerful body, and it was all steely muscle. Cade was just plain man, and he stood out anywhere.
He looked up once and caught her gaze, and she felt just a touch of the old magic. But she looked away and only the fear was left.
Later, Melly went into the bedroom with Abby. They sat on the old bed that had been Abby’s from girlhood and went over the wedding dress pattern.
“It’s just magnificent,” Melly breathed. “But it will take forever for you to make it....”
“A week, in my spare time.” Abby grinned. “Do you really like it?”
“I love it!” She traced the design with a caressing finger. “It’s the best design I’ve ever seen. You ought to sell it.”
“Sell your wedding gown?” Abby exclaimed. “Do I look like I have a cash register for a heart?”
“Don’t be silly. You know very well what I mean. It’s good, Abby. It’s really good. You’re wasted showing other people’s designs.”
“Thank you for thinking so,” Abby said with a smile.
“I’m not the only one, either. Did Jessica Dane ever get in touch with you?” Melly asked. “She absolutely raved over that dress you made me last summer.”
“The boutique owner?” Abby asked. “No. Actually, I