* * * *

  Betty Lou replied to his silliness only to keep him awake. She knew she had to get him to some place warm and quick. Getting him to his feet was no small achievement. The moment she did, he wanted to dance.

  “Knock it off,” she snapped. “The dance is over. Let’s go get a beer.”

  He seemed to like that idea.

  “You do know how to ride a horse, don’t you?” she asked as she leaned him against Grey Spirit.

  “Do badgers bite? Do grizzly bears growl? Do--.”

  “Put a sock in it, Tanner, and turn around.” Getting him onto her horse proved to be a job. He was heavier than she thought and the snow was slippery.

  But he’d obviously ridden before and he didn’t seem to be feeling any pain. She got him up in the saddle but noticed that his leg was bleeding again.

  She scrambling up behind him before he fell off and hoped it wasn’t far to his pickup. She’d seen his tracks on the road and figured he must have left this truck nearby.

  The snow fell in a thick shroud now. Within minutes, it soaked everything it touched and she and Tanner were no exceptions. She wrapped her arms around him to keep him in the saddle and give him some of her warmth. When they reached the road, she turned down it and found his pickup.

  “Stay right here,” she told him and tried to slip off carefully, but Tanner fell off the horse and into her arms, knocking them both to the ground. By the time she got him off her, she was exhausted.

  She put her arm around him and helped him up. They stumbled to the pickup. On the way, he tried to lower his hand to pat her bottom. She considered decking him but reminded herself that she would have to pick him up again so she merely cussed him out.

  He winked and grinned. “I love it when you talk dirty,” he said, making her grind her teeth.

  By the time she got him into the pickup, sent Grey Spirit for the barn and slid behind the wheel, he was asleep.

  “Wake up, Tanner. Damn you, don’t you dare go and die on me. Not after all I’ve been through with you.”

  He stirred as she took the truck keys from his pocket, started the engine and picked up his radio to call Sara to have the ambulance waiting for them at the end of the road when she got there.

  While the heater warmed the cab of the pickup, she stripped Tanner of his wet clothes and slipped a bedroll she’d found behind the seat over him.

  She took off her own wet outer clothing and held him in her arms, molding her body to his, afraid he’d already lost too much body heat.

  When he opened his eyes and grinned at her, she knew he was going to live. She turned the pickup around and headed down the road.

  * * * *

  Betty Lou Garrett. Tanner closed his eyes and opened them again, expecting her to be gone. Nope.

  Still he knew he must be dreaming. Betty Lou? Here with him? Driving his truck down the road as if she was being chased out of hell?

  Her hair was wet and hung in curls around her face. Her Montana sky blue eyes snapped when she looked at him.

  Betty Lou looked so real.

  He reached out to touch her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She had that same kind of look the mountain lion had had the instant before it struck so he pulled his hand back.

  “Talk to me, Tanner. Tell me why I should have danced with last night. Tell me why you think you’re God’s gift to women. Tell me anything, but try to stay awake.”

  “Am I dead?” he mumbled.

  “Not quite. I found you under a tree, freezing and disoriented,” she said, her gaze on the logging road she was racing down.

  The pickup bounced around a curve. The pain in his thigh brought back the memory of the mountain lion but little else.

  He glanced down to find that he was nearly naked under the sleeping bag. “So you took advantage of me?” he asked with a grin.

  She shot him a warning look. “Don’t make me wish I’d left you under that tree.”

  He noticed that she seemed to be trying to keep one eye on the road and the other on him. He laughed. “Betty Lou, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were afraid of a wounded, half-froze-to-death cowboy. Or is it that you’re afraid because you can’t trust yourself around me?”

  She shook her head but she was smiling.

  Tanner moaned beside her and started to snuggle down deeper into the sleeping bag.

  “Why do you think it is that women seem to fall for a guy like you?” Betty Lou asked him.

  He opened his eyes again and smiled. “It’s my charm,” he whispered. “It’s killer.”

  She snorted and they both laughed, though Tanner’s was weak.

  “You know I’ve always thought there was something about me you didn’t like,” he said.

  “Where you’d get an idea like that?”

  He grinned. “I knew I had to be wrong about that. I figured you were just trying to hide the fact that you’re crazy about me.”

  “I think you’re delirious again.”

  He chuckled. Their gazes met for an instant, and in his eyes she saw something that made her ache inside.

  She looked away. Up ahead the lights of the ambulance flashed in the snowy darkness.

  The ambulance took Tanner to the hospital. Betty Lou went back to the ranch to take care of her horse. She had a deputy come out and take Tanner’s pickup back to his place so he’d have it when he got out of the hospital.

  Betty Lou called the hospital next. Tanner was in stable condition, the nurse said. She hung up and tried to put him out of her mind. But even when she closed her eyes to sleep that night, Tanner’s handsome face grinned down at her.

  In the days that followed, she called the hospital every morning to see how he was doing. He was better, giving the nurses a hard time. He’d been asking for her, the doctor said.

  Sure, when she got into town, she’d stop by. She never did.

  Buck came out toward the end of the month and actually tried to sweet-talk her. She told him she couldn’t sell the ranch. It was her life. She was a part of it, kind of like a marriage, for better or worse.

  Buck had gotten angry and told her a woman didn’t belong on a ranch without a man. She’d shown him to the door.

  Her father had once told her she was like a strong-headed filly. It would take a special man to break her.

  She didn’t want to be “rode hard and broke” by any man. She wanted a man who wanted her because of who she was – not in spite of it.

  She’d always believed that when the right man came along – if he ever did – she’d know it. No bolts of lightning. She’d just know.

  She’d been right. She knew.

  * * * *

  Over the weeks he’d spent recuperating, Tanner had done a lot of thinking – mostly about Betty Lou Garrett. All he’d gotten out of it was a headache.

  He’d called her from the hospital to thank her for saving his life. She’d acted as if it was something she did every day. It probably was. He had to admit he’d never met another woman like her.

  It was Saturday night and he was restless. His leg had healed and he was anxious to get out of the house. Part of him wanted to drive out to the Garrett Ranch and tell Betty Lou how he felt about her.

  The more sensible part of him told him not to be a fool. Betty Lou had made it clear he was the last man on earth she might be interested in. He decided to go to the community dance and get his mind off the impossible woman.

  * * * *

  Betty Lou watched Tanner come through the door of the community center. She’d been half-hoping he would come, half-hoping he wouldn’t. She’d never made it easy for a man. She didn’t know how and she’d never really cared enough to learn.

  The band swung into a slow song. She waited, hoping Tanner would ask her to dance. He didn’t. He leaned against the opposite wall, his hat low on his forehead, his gaze on her.

  Fear dogged her footsteps as she cross the dance floor and came to a halt in front of him. His expression didn’t change as he studied her.

  She could feel, rather than see, the people around them watching, waiting.

  Nervously she tipped her Western hat, just the way she’d seen Tanner do a dozen times. “I believe you owe me a dance,” she said, her heart pounding with fear that he’d turn her down.

  A slow grin spread across his handsome face. “You bet, pretty lady,” he said as he pulled her into his arms.

  Maybe she could get used to being called pretty after all.

  A Recipe for Love

  By B.J. Daniels

  Copyright 2011 B.J. Daniels

  Smashwords Edition

  Jenny Cross couldn't believe her luck. She hadn't been to a garage sale in ages. But Saturday morning as she was returning from a friend's house, she saw the sign and on impulse stopped.

  In a large box of old books, she found an out-of-print cookbook exactly like one her grandmother used to have before it was lost. Jenny had thought she'd never find another one.

  Just the sight of the cookbook brought back memories of when she was a girl and the many hours she spent cooking with her Grandmother Cross.

  Hugging the cookbook to her, she walked over to pay the young man taking money.

  “I see you found something,” he said smiling. “Ah, a cookbook. It's a rare person who can appreciate an old cookbook. I thought everyone got their recipes off the Internet anymore.”

  “My grandmother had one just like this,” she said as she paid him. “When I make my grandmother's recipes it's as if she’s right there in the kitchen with me again. She taught me my love of cooking.”

  “My kind of woman.” He had warm brown eyes that twinkled when he smiled. “I saw that cookbook in the box but I'm a terrible cook.”

  Jenny pulled her business card from her purse and handed it to him.

  “Jenny Cross Catering.” His gaze met hers as he pocketed the card. “Nice to meet you, Jenny.” He held out his hand. “Kirk Ryan, carpenter. If you ever teach a cooking class…” He looked as if he would have liked to continue their conversation but another customer came up to pay so Jenny moved aside.

  At home, she thumbed through the pages of the cookbook. They were well worn. Whoever had owned this cookbook had loved to cook.

  A yellowed index card fell from between the pages and fluttered to the floor. “What's this?” Jenny said to herself as she bent to retrieve it.

  “Honeymoon Cake,” she read with a chuckle. The recipe was printed in a neat slanted hand. At the bottom was a postscript.

  This is an old family recipe.

  Intrigued, Jenny skimmed the list of ingredients and realized she had everything she needed to make it. Going into the kitchen, she quickly went to work, curious about the cake and the family the recipe had belonged to, especially

  Kirk Ryan, carpenter and self-proclaimed terrible cook.

  As the cake was baking, Jenny thought of her own old family recipes. Her most prized were those printed in her grandmother's handwriting with little notes printed at the bottom like this one. She hated to think that this recipe might be lost to Kirk's family because no one knew it had been tucked inside the cookbook.

  As the timer went off in the kitchen, the house smelling wonderful, Jenny took the cake from the oven and had an idea.

  She covered the cake to keep it warm and drove back to the house where she'd bought the old cookbook. The sale was over but Kirk was still in the yard boxing up the items that hadn't sold.

  He smiled when he saw her get out of her car carrying the cake.

  “What is that wonderful smell?” he asked as she drew near. His gaze took on a far away look. “It reminds me of summers spent here at this house with my grandparents.”

  “I wondered if it might be your grandmother’s recipe,” Jenny said as she removed the cover from the cake. “I found this recipe tucked in the cookbook." She took the card from her pocket and handed it to him.

  “Honeymoon Cake?” He laughed. “Wait, I remember this cake. My grandmother used to make it all the time for my grandfather. It was his favorite."

  “So it really is an old family recipe?" Jenny said glad she'd followed her heart back here.

  “My grandmother swore this cake brought her and my grandfather together. He was going past her house one day, caught the scent of it baking and had to meet the woman who could cook something that smelled that delicious. The rest, as they say, is history.” He smiled. “Thank you for reminding me. I'd forgotten that story.”

  Jenny nodded shyly as she put down the cake on one of the empty garage sale tables and started to leave. “Just give me a call sometime and I'll pick up the cake pan.”

  “Wait,” Kirk called after her. “You can't go. Didn't you read what my grandmother wrote at the bottom of the recipe card?”

  Jenny frowned as she turned back to him. She'd thought she'd read every word.

  He smiled as he pretended to read: “Not to ever be eaten alone. Share with someone special. Someone you'd like to get to know a whole lot better.”

  Saving Grace

  By B.J. Daniels

  Copyright 2011 B.J. Daniels

  Smashwords Edition

  The moment Jake saw the way the car was pulled off the road, he feared the driver was in trouble.

  He slowed the ranch pickup as the driver, a petite redheaded woman, climbed awkwardly from behind the wheel, clutching the open door as if in pain.

  Bringing the truck to stop behind the car, he climbed out. “Miss? Are you all right?”

  She turned and he was shocked to see that he knew her. Or that is – had known her back in high school. The other shock was that she was very pregnant.

  Grace’s big brown eyes filled with relief as she recognized him. “Jake. Oh, am I glad to see you.”

  How many times in high school would he have loved to have heard those words from her?

  “The car just quit. I’m not due for four weeks but--.” She stopped and held up a hand for him to give her a moment as she leaned against the open door and mouthed, “Contraction.”

  “You’re in labor?”

  As the contraction ended, she actually smiled at the panic in his voice. “Didn’t I hear that you raise horses? Horses. Babies. It’s all kind of the same, right?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to deliver mine if you don’t get me to the hospital and quick.”

  “Hang on,” he said as he led her over to his pickup.

  As he helped her into the passenger side, she smiled at him. “I had the worst crush on you in high school. Did you know that?”

  He slammed the pickup door and hurried around to climb behind the wheel, telling himself he must have heard her wrong.

  “Don’t you remember in chemistry class when I kept asking you questions all the time?” she said and laughed. “I kept thinking you’d take pity on me and ask me out. I had this crazy idea that you and I were destined to get married someday.”

  He glanced over at her. Could her timing be any worse? He saw her grip the door handle as she had another contraction.

  “Jake, you might want to drive a little faster,” she said as the contraction ended. “I’m going to have a hard time explaining to the baby’s father why his son was born beside the road in a Chevy pickup when his daddy is a Ford man.”

  Jake sped toward the hospital, wondering about the man Grace had fallen in love with and married. To think he could have been that man—

  He swung into the emergency room entrance and killing the engine, rushed around to help Grace out of the pickup and into one of the wheelchairs sitting outside. She gripped his hand as she had another contraction.

  “Grace, I never knew how you felt,” he said looking into those beautiful brown eyes of hers. “I…I don’t know what to say.” How about confessing how you’ve always felt about her? A little too late for that, he told himself.

  “Don’t pay any attention to me,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “It’s the hormones. I never know what I’m going to say.”

  As another contraction started, Jake wheeled her into the emergency room.

  “This way,” a nurse said taking them to a room where Grace was quickly lifted into the bed.

  Jake started to back out of the room, but Grace grabbed his hand as she breathed through another contraction.

  “Are you the baby’s father?” the nurse asked.

  Before Jake could answer, a man came rushing into the room.

  “I’m the baby’s father,” the attractive man said sounding out of breath. “Grace, I just got your call,” he said and glanced at Jake.

  “This is Jake,” Grace managed to say before another contraction hit.

  “Oh, that Jake?” he asked and Grace nodded. He reached across the bed to shake Jake’s hand. “Glad to meet you, I’m Bill. Bill Larson. Did she tell you it’s a boy? A son.” He grinned at Grace. “Isn’t she amazing?”

  Amazing. Jake watched her breathe through the contraction, clearly in pain, but taking it like a trooper.

  “Jake saved me,” Grace said as the contraction ended. “Just like he did in chemistry class in high school.” She smiled, then looked past him, her eyes welling with tears, “Sis,” she cried as her sister Carolyn rushed into the room.

  “I should get going,” Jake said as Carolyn hugged her and asked what she could do to help.

  Before Grace could answer, she had another contraction. Her gaze shifted to Jake as he was backing out of the room. She raised her hand as if to stop him, but whatever she’d planned to say was lost as a doctor rushed in and several nurses gathered around her.

  Jake let the door close behind him and stood in the hallway for a moment. He’d never thought he’d seen Grace again after she left town. But apparently she was back, married, pregnant and about to have a baby any minute.

  Just his luck.