Prologue
“Darcy, honey, can you finish making the pies? If I don’t get out and help the men set up outside this is going to be the most sparse Fourth of July party ever.”
Anthea Cox had worked as the housekeeper and general caretaker on Darcy’s grandfather’s ranch for as long as she could remember.
“Sure, Anthea.” Darcy Beckett looked out the window. Eight hired hands, her grandfather and Anthea’s husband, Hank, were milling about rather aimlessly. “You tell them, Anthea. We women shouldn’t have to do all the work.”
Anthea put her arm around Darcy’s shoulder and gave her a warm hug. “That’s right, child. You remember that. Men and women should share responsibilities in this life, as well as pleasures.”
Darcy flushed at her private thought of pleasure and took another look outside. Where was Joe? The youngest—and strongest, Darcy thought proudly—of Kenneth Beckett’s hired hands, Joe Tyler was always roped into tasks like this. She’d seen him there a few minutes ago.
“Looking for someone?” Anthea asked over her shoulder.
“I’m just looking out the window.” Darcy’s skin tingled with anticipation.
Anthea gave her a knowing look. “Don’t see that Tyler boy out there.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Pity. You’d have such a fine view from here.”
Darcy’s face grew hot, but she laughed. “You always could see right through me.”
Anthea went to the refrigerator and took out a chilled lump of pastry dough for the pies. “Just see to it that your grandfather doesn’t see through you that way.”
“He doesn’t understand anything about love,” Darcy said miserably. She knew if her grandfather found out about her and Joe, the consequences would be dire.
“He knows a thing or two, but he can be a little too...vehement. At times.”
“Mean is more the word.”
“He’s just looking out for you.” Anthea put a sympathetic hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m old enough to take care of myself.”
Anthea smiled. “At your age, I thought I knew all about love, too. I didn’t.”
There was a whoop of laughter from the men outside and Anthea flashed an impatient look in that direction. “I’d better get out there. Folks’ll be coming in an hour.”
Darcy took the chilled dough and began pressing it down with the heel of her hand. “I’ll take care of this, don’t worry.”
Anthea bustled out the kitchen door. As soon as she was gone, Darcy sighed and allowed herself a moment’s indulgence in thinking about Joe. Last night had been magical. Better than she’d ever imagined it could be.... She shivered with remembered pleasure. She knew about love, all right.
She picked up the apron and moved back to the window. Where was Joe anyway? Just as she was reaching behind her to tie the straps, she felt hands on hers. “Need some help, ma’am?” Joe asked, close to her ear.
She whirled to face him. “We shouldn’t be in here alone together, you know.”
He reached behind her to tie the straps. “I’m only helping a lady in distress.” He stopped tying and rested his hands on her lower back.
“Is that all you’re doing?” she teased.
“That and kissing my future wife.” He lowered his mouth onto hers and kissed her. Darcy’s passions flared, quickly reaching a state close to what she’d felt last night.
She pulled back, breathless. “W-wife?”
“Sure. You knew I’d make an honest woman of you, didn’t you?”
She swallowed. “When?”
“How long before you’re eighteen?” He gave a devilish smile. He knew dam well her birthday was in September—it was the day after his.
Her heart thundered in her ears. “Do you mean it?”
“More than anything.” He kissed her again. “What do you say? Will you marry me?”
“Joe—”
“Say yes or I’ll die.”
She smiled. “Well...”
“Darce, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life.” His eyes burned with sincerity. “Do you love me?”
She looked down. He loved her! Her knees began to shake. “Yes,” she said, looking back at him. “I love you.”
Something crossed his expression then: a boyish relief mingled with joy. “Then say yes.”
“Yes.”
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, deeply. “How about we get ourselves a place just like this?”
“Like the ranch?”
“Like all of this.” He swept his arm across the room. “You look good in this kitchen. I can see you here, making breakfast for me and the kids—”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Kids?”
He nodded. “Two or three of them. That okay with you?”
“I always wanted two kids,” she said wistfully. “A boy and a girl.”
He tipped an imaginary hat. “I’ll do my best to help you out with that dream, ma’am.”
She gave a tremulous smile. “If last night is an example of your help, I’ll look forward to it.”
“Last night was just the tip of the iceberg,” he murmured and lowered his mouth onto hers again.
Her body flamed to life. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body along the length of his. She felt so safe in his embrace, so warm, so happy.
“What the hell is going on here?” a voice boomed from the doorway.
Darcy sprang back and looked, with horror, at the source of the angry demand.
It was her grandfather.
Chapter One
“Come on, get out of the way!” Darcy glanced at her watch, then leaned on the horn of her dilapidated luxury car for the second time. “Let’s get moving here.”
Ahead of her, the brake lights on the pale blue pickup flared red, and the vehicle stopped. Stopped? That wasn’t the response she’d been after.
Inside the truck, the driver moved as though to get out.
Darcy’s breath caught in her throat. Boy she may have just aggravated the wrong guy. She looked around. The rough road that led to T.L. Ranch had barely enough room for one car and certainly no room for her to go around him. And she couldn’t back up. The reverse gear had broken a week ago, and she’d been using the Fred Flintstone method ever since. She wasn’t about to open the door now....
The driver’s door of the pickup opened.
Darcy straightened her back and carefully reached for her purse on the seat next to her. Coming from Chicago, she knew not to take any chances with angry strangers. She had a stun gun and pepper spray at the ready at all times. Which should it be?
A booted leg extended out of the truck. And it was a big boot.
Pepper spray, Darcy decided.
She watched with bated breath as the driver unfolded himself from the truck. He straightened up to nearly seven feet tall, or so it seemed to her.
His hair was as black as licorice under a battered Stetson, and