Her gaze went to Dawson again. Her heart ached. She was surprised by how much she’d missed him. Her life in California had been filled with busy, long, stress-filled days trying to make something of herself. She’d forgotten what it was like to just relax and enjoy the day.

  “Better?” Dawson said.

  She nodded and looked away, realizing she’d been staring at him. He’d aged wonderfully. If anything, he was more handsome. There was a confidence to him that had also grown. Dawson Rogers knew who he was, what he wanted, what tomorrow would bring and he was good with that.

  Tears burned her eyes; she turned to swipe at them.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he said softly as he rode beside her. “Once the sheriff is finished at the house, I’ll go in and make that kitchen like new. You’ll get the house sold and—”

  “Dawson,” she said, her voice breaking as she turned toward him. “I don’t care about the house, about any of that.”

  He swung off his horse. The next thing she knew his big hands were on her waist and he was lifting her down and into his arms. She let the tears come again, crying her heart out, soaking his jean jacket with her tears.

  One hand smoothed her hair, while the other held her tightly to him. He said soothing words, whispered into her hair as he let her cry.

  When she finally was able to stop, he handed her his bandanna. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. He took the bandanna back, stuffing it into his pocket. She couldn’t help but smile at him. He’d always been there for her. Always.

  “I love you.” The words came out on their own accord. She couldn’t have stopped them even if she had wanted to. “I love you so much.”

  He nodded. “I love you, too.” His voice sounded rough with emotion.

  “The other day after we made love—”

  “You don’t have to explain,” he said. “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “We both got lost in the moment. I’m not sorry, but I know that it didn’t change anything.”

  Hadn’t it?

  “Come on. Let’s head back. I suspect the sheriff will be calling.”

  She looked into his face. There was so much she wanted to say to him. “I need to tell you—”

  “You don’t have to say it,” he said, handing her the reins to her horse. “I know you appreciate my help. That’s what old friends are for.”

  She took the reins, feeling her heart breaking all over again. She realized he wouldn’t trust anything she said at this point. She’d just had her second emotional breakdown. Given what had been found in her grandmother’s kitchen wall, of course, she would be emotional.

  But it was Dawson, being back here with him, that was killing her. She hadn’t known what she wanted, but looking at him right now, he was all she wanted.

  “Is there someone else?” she asked as he gave her a boost up into her saddle.

  He seemed to hesitate for a moment. “I’ve been seeing Amy Baker,” he said, swinging up into his saddle. He reined his horse around. The sun had come up making the day shine. “That sun sure feels good, doesn’t it? I’ll make us some breakfast when we get back. You still love French toast?”

  * * *

  DAWSON HAD NEVER thought of himself as a coward, but he’d had to cut Annie off from whatever she was going to tell him. He couldn’t bear the thought of her telling him that their lovemaking hadn’t meant anything. That she was still heading back to her life in California once the house was sold.

  Those were all things he already knew on an intellectual level, but he’d let his heart hope for a different outcome. Sometimes the way she looked at him, he would swear... But he knew that she’d been through so much, she probably didn’t even know what she needed. He didn’t want her making the wrong decision. But he didn’t want her staying with him for the wrong reasons, either. He honestly didn’t know what was right for her and he doubted she did either right now.

  Back at the ranch, he’d sent her inside while he unsaddled their horses. Holding her earlier had made him want to throw down one of the horse blankets and make love to her out there in the wild. He wanted her so badly...

  He pushed that thought as far back into his heart as he could. Once her house was sold... It was the mantra that kept playing in his head. But when he thought about her leaving, it almost knocked him to his knees.

  “There you are.”

  He turned at the sound of his mother’s voice.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, closing the distance between them to look into his face as if she could read him like a child’s book. “Oh, Dawson.”

  He shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I’ll be fine.”

  She shook her head. “I heard what happened at the house. Annabelle’s staying with you?” Her gaze searched his face.

  “It isn’t what you think. She’s staying in the guest room.” He’d never seen his mother cry, but right now she looked close to tears. He put his arm around her. “Once the sheriff lets her back into the house, I’ll go over and get the kitchen fixed and then the house should be able to go on the market.”

  Her mother was shaking her head. “Who’s going to buy it knowing...”

  He’d thought of that and was sure Annabelle had, too. “I might have to buy it.”

  Willie nodded. “Okay, son. You could use it as a rental, I suppose. You’re that anxious to get her on her way?”

  “I have no choice.”

  “I suppose not.” She sounded as sad about that as he did.

  * * *

  ANNABELLE HAD SEEN Willie drive up and head out to where Dawson was unsaddling the horses. She watched them for a moment before stepping into the bathroom to check herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were still pink from the November air. Her eyes weren’t as bad as she thought they would be considering all the crying she’d done earlier. She couldn’t help being embarrassed. Dawson, as usual, had been kind and understanding. It was his tenderness that kept breaking her heart.

  Her cell phone rang. She stared down at the number. Clarisa? It was one of the models she used to work with. Her phone rang again. She thought about not answering it. She’d spoken to hardly anyone she’d worked with since everything went south. Clarisa was one of the new, younger models, but a sweet girl who was just starting in the business.

  The phone rang again. Curiosity made her take the call. “Hello?”

  “Annabelle, I’m so glad I got you. I was worried you wouldn’t pick up. So, have you heard?”

  Apparently not. “Heard what?”

  “About Chambers. More models have come forward after hearing what happened to you. At first, everyone was scared to speak up, but then they did, one after another.” Clarisa was laughing. “Chambers was arrested yesterday on assault charges. Everyone is talking about it. It happened because of you.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. When she’d reported Gordon Chambers, she hadn’t been believed. Gordon owned the top modeling agency in Southern California. If you crossed Gordon, your career was over. Annabelle had dodged his advances until he’d offered her a modeling job she would have given her eyeteeth for—but not at the cost of sleeping with him.

  She’d told him what he could do with his job and then gone to the authorities, for all the good it had done. Chambers had instantly blackballed her. Word went out. She’d known he could hurt her. She hadn’t realized how badly. He was telling everyone that she was impossible to work with and denying her charges. That’s all it took and she couldn’t get another job.

  “I have even more good news,” Clarisa was saying. “I ran into Thomas Darrington the other day. He asked if I’d seen you. Apparently he’d heard about Gordon blackballing you. Anyway, I brought him up to speed. He said he wants you for a big spread he’s going to be doing after the first of the year. Girl, I really think you can have just about any job you want now. A lot of people had the same problem with Gordon and you brought him down.”

  Only she hadn’t brought him down. She’d only started the ball rolling. She took a breath and let it out. Her heart was pounding. She could go back. She had a job. She’d always liked working with Thomas Darrington, an up-and-comer in the business and someone she’d worked with before. Thomas had made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. She could have her old life back. According to Clarisa, it was waiting for her.

  “You need to take down Thomas’s number and give him a call,” her friend was saying. “He’s really anxious to talk to you.”

  She found a notepad on Dawson’s desk and wrote down the number. “Thank you for letting me know.”

  “I was afraid you hadn’t heard,” Clarisa said. “You were always so nice to me when some of those other models...” She laughed. “I hope you come back. Give me a call anytime. Also, I know a model who’s looking for a roommate, if you’re interested.”

  Annabelle disconnected and looked down at the number she’d written on the notepad. Next to it, she’d written Thomas. Modeling job. She still couldn’t believe it. Just when she was at her lowest.

  At the sound of Dawson’s voice, she stuffed the note into her jeans pocket. As happy as she’d been just moments ago, she felt that awful pull on her heart. Could she really go back and leave here? Leave Dawson?

  “Annabelle?”

  Just the sound of his voice made her close her eyes for a moment, as if memorizing it. She loved him. He was all Montana cowboy. He’d never leave here. If she left him again, there would be no coming back.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dawson noticed the change in Annabelle when he and his mother entered the house. They’d all congregated in the kitchen, with Willie talking about how it wouldn’t take long to get the house back in order and on the market.

  Annabelle was quiet, nodding, but saying little. When their eyes met, he saw pain in them. There seemed to be a sadness to her, a resignation. He told himself he was glad he’d stopped her when they were out on horseback. More than ever, he felt that she’d been about to tell him what he already knew. That she was leaving as soon as the house sold.

  He whipped up French toast, talking his mother into staying and joining them. He didn’t want to be alone with Annabelle. He told himself that if he kept busy...

  They’d turned the conversation to the weather and the upcoming holidays when Annabelle’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen as if she’d been expecting a call. At her frown, he surmised that it wasn’t the one she’d been waiting for.

  Excusing herself, she stepped away from the table. He and his mother both pretended not to listen, but it was clearly the sheriff calling to say they were finished at the house and she could move back in.

  “You’ll get the work done for her?” Willie asked.

  He nodded as Annabelle returned to the table.

  “Honey, you dropped something.” His mother knelt to pick up what appeared to be a sheet from his office notepad. She glanced at the writing on it before handing it to Annabelle. Dawson couldn’t miss what was written there. If he’d had any doubts, any hopes, they were dashed.

  He watched Annabelle stuff the note into her pocket quickly. Her gaze locked with his for a moment and she seemed about to say something when Willie spoke.

  “Dawson and I were just discussing your kitchen,” his mother said. “Are we going to close off the alcove again or open it up?”

  “You have both already done so much,” Annabelle said.

  “We finish what we start, isn’t that right, Dawson?”

  He was still looking into Annie’s blue eyes, feeling his heart breaking all over again. He mentally cursed himself for letting it happen. Of course he’d fallen for her again. Hell, he’d never stopped loving her.

  “I’ll get right on it. The sooner the better,” he said and got up to clear away the dishes.

  “Let me help you with those,” Annabelle said, but he quickly cut her off.

  “I’ve got them.”

  “Yes,” his mother said, as if seeing that he needed to be alone. “Annabelle, why don’t you and I go back to the house and see what we need to pick up?”

  Annabelle started to say something, but he heard his mother whisper, “Let’s leave Dawson alone for a while, okay?”

  * * *

  ANNABELLE STARED AT Dawson’s back. He’d seen the note. So had his mother. She wanted to tell him that she was torn, that she didn’t know what she wanted, that she couldn’t bear leaving him again. But she couldn’t do that to him again. She’d put him through enough, so she left with Willie.

  For much of the way into Whitehorse, neither of them spoke.

  “Want to talk about it?” Willie finally asked.

  “You saw that I’ve been offered a modeling job back in California. I’ll admit that at first I was excited. I thought for sure I’d never get to work again.”

  “So it’s good news.”

  She looked over at the older woman. “I can go back to that life. In fact, they want me back.” She told Willie why she’d left and what had apparently happened.

  “I’m so sorry,” Willie said. “That must have been awful.”

  “Yes, it was. But the others came forward. They backed me up.”

  “So there is no reason you can’t go back to the life you had.”

  “You know there is a reason,” Annabelle said. “Just the thought of leaving Dawson again...” She had to look away as tears welled in her eyes. Determined not to break down again, she said. “I don’t think I can leave him.”

  Willie looked over at her as they pulled up in front of the house behind Annabelle’s car. “You love him.”

  “With all my heart. I always have. But I wanted to see what I could do outside of Whitehorse.”

  “What do you want now?” Willie asked, but before she could answer there was a tap on the window.

  They both turned to see Mary Sue standing there as if waiting for them. Willie hesitated a moment, as if not wanting to quit their conversation, before she turned to put down her window.

  Annabelle felt a moment of relief. What did she want to do?

  “I thought you might need me,” Mary Sue was saying. “The sheriff called me to say that the house was open. I suppose we’d better see how bad it is and decide what to do.”

  Willie agreed and put up her window. As Annabelle started to get out, the older woman touched her sleeve. “You know how I feel about you and about my son. Make the right decision for yourself. If you stay for the wrong reasons, you’ll resent him and the life he has to offer you.” She dropped her hand, smiling sadly. “I just want you both to be happy.”

  * * *

  DAWSON HAD NO idea how much work undoing Frannie’s remodeling in the kitchen would take. All he knew was that he had to do it quickly and then hope the house sold. If not, he would buy it. He’d already made up his mind. He would just have to do it through a subsidiary of the ranch corporation so Annabelle didn’t know it was him buying it.

  He wasn’t far behind his mother. In fact, he drove up right as Annabelle was opening the house. Mary Sue was here, no doubt to see how bad it was going to be. That, or morbid curiosity. He imagined that would be the case for a lot of people once the house was on the market. Another reason he had to act quickly and probably buy the place. He didn’t want Annie to have to go through that.

  She opened the door and he saw her grimace. There was a definite smell. They all trailed inside. He pushed his way through, wanting to see how bad the kitchen was, to spare Annabelle if it was as bad as he suspected.

  But she wasn’t having any of that. She was right behind him. The alcove was wide open. The sheriff’s department had made the opening larger to get the body out. It appeared that McCall had had someone clean up the floor. But the frame of the stained wall was still there. That was the first thing that would have to go.

  He turned to find Annabelle staring at the hole. “Want it walled back up or opened?” he asked.

  “Open. But I can’t ask you to—”

  “You aren’t asking. I’m going to get my tools, tear the rest of this out, take up the floorboards. The flooring in the kitchen will have to be replaced but there isn’t that much. It won’t take long. I was thinking a nice hardwood floor.” Before she could object because of the price, he added, “It will help sell the house, trust me.”

  She closed her mouth and nodded. “I do trust you. I already owe you so much.”

  “I’m sure money won’t be a problem once you’re back at work.”

  * * *

  ANNABELLE DIDN’T GET a chance to reply as Mary Sue and Willie came into the kitchen. Mary Sue was complimenting everything that had been done. Willie offered to show her the rest of the house. The two of them left as Dawson headed for his pickup and tools.

  She stood in the kitchen feeling almost dizzy. So much had happened. The poor old woman next door had died after falling down her stairs. Not to mention Annabelle’s grandmother had walled up a man in her kitchen.

  “Is there anything I can—”

  Dawson cut her off as he returned with his tools. “I’ve got it. I called for the subfloor sheeting and the lumber to be delivered. This won’t take long.”

  She nodded and stepped out of his way as he strapped on his tool belt. He couldn’t have looked more sexy, she thought and quickly moved out of his way.

  From upstairs came voices. Willie and Mary Sue were visiting, discussing people they both knew. It seemed most people in Whitehorse were related to each other in some way.

  Annabelle walked down to her bedroom. It was the last room of the house to be painted and cleaned out. She closed the door and called Chloe. “Hi,” she said when her sister answered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She let out a nervous laugh. “You can tell by that one word?”

  “I know you, remember?”