“Is the saddle under there?” Watkins peered at the tarp.

  “Yep,” Ben said, “but we’d better not uncover it again. I think we’ve finally got the blanket tucked around it good and tight.”

  “That’s okay. I can wait until the party. I’m not here about the saddle.” He was a good ten inches shorter than Ben and had to push back his hat and lift his chin to make eye contact. “I heard you might be willing to play a little harmonica with Trey and me tonight.”

  “I’d like that, if I wouldn’t be in the way.”

  “Hell, no, son. We’re not that slick. We’d love to have you, and I thought you might want to come on out to the barn. Trey’s already down there with some of our music and our guitars. If you’ll go fetch your harmonica, we can have a private jam session before the party and see what tunes we have in common.”

  “You bet. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “See you then.” Watkins headed for the barn.

  Ben gazed at Molly. “What I have to say shouldn’t be rushed, and I’d better go. I said I’d play tonight, so I don’t want to duck out of it.”

  “You shouldn’t. It’ll be fun.”

  “But we’ll have to talk later.”

  “Are you thinking of changing the plan?”

  His hesitation gave her the answer.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t come to your room tonight. Jack must have put pressure on you to leave me alone.” And she’d deal with Jack, but she might not be able to sway him. She’d also discovered he was stubborn. “I don’t want to jeopardize—”

  “Please come to my room tonight. But before we… before we do anything, I have some things to say.”

  “You have a crazy wife tucked away in an asylum?”

  “No.” His smile was sad. “Nothing that dramatic. Ready to go in?”

  “Sure.” They walked around the house and up the porch steps without speaking.

  Once they were inside, Ben turned to her. “See you tonight.” Then he bounded up the stairs to get his harmonica.

  She debated whether to go up to her room and start getting ready. Normally she wouldn’t need an hour to primp, but tonight was special. She wanted to wash her hair and spend time on her makeup. An hour might not even be enough.

  Ben was coming back down as she pulled off her hat and started up the stairs. She gave him a quick smile. “Have fun.”

  “Thanks.” His return smile was polite and brief.

  With a sigh, she continued to her room. Too bad her situation with Ben had come to a head this soon, but the family would have discovered their relationship eventually, maybe even during the party tonight.

  Jack’s reaction wasn’t all that unusual, now that she had time to think about it. She was his youngest cousin from Arizona, and he’d never had sisters. That could make him even worse than her brothers when it came to interfering in her social life.

  His concern was sweet, and she didn’t want to be rude since she was a guest at this ranch. Although he wasn’t the only one in charge, he had plenty to say about what went on here. On the surface, it looked as if Ben had taken advantage of Jack’s hospitality by showing an interest in her.

  Without giving offense or revealing how far the relationship had progressed, she wanted to convince Jack it was a two-way street. Ben shouldn’t be blamed for something that she’d encouraged every step of the way. As Ben had said, they were both consenting adults and what they did in the privacy of his room was nobody else’s business.

  She didn’t intend for anyone to know that she’d spent the night in his bed and hoped to spend tonight there, too. The layout of the huge house made it unlikely that anyone knew. If she was careful not to be seen entering or leaving his room, that part of their secret would be safe.

  But Jack had planted a seed of doubt in Ben’s mind. Clearly he was wondering if he should back off. The thought made her stomach twist. They might only have this brief time together, but she’d counted on making use of all of it.

  If she were honest with herself, she’d have to admit that she hoped this affair wouldn’t end when she left Wyoming on Monday. Every moment she spent with Ben made him more precious to her. She didn’t want to give him up at all, much less have their time shortened by Jack’s influence.

  If Ben’s mind had changed, she’d just have to change it back. Fortunately, she had a killer dress in her closet. She’d brought it even though it might be a bit much for a family gathering. Jeans weren’t right. She’d packed a more casual dress in case that had seemed more appropriate, but she was going for the wow factor tonight.

  Thinking about the dress lifted her spirits. If her jeans and sweater turned Ben on, then this outfit would send him up in flames. If he had any thoughts of backing out of their agreement, she wanted him to know exactly what he was rejecting.

  An hour later, she descended the stairs carefully, her wrapped gift in one hand, gripping the railing with the other. She looked hot, if she did say so herself. But her hotness quotient would be eliminated if she tripped in her four-inch heels and stumbled on the curved staircase. She also might damage the album she’d so carefully created for Aunt Sarah.

  Laughter and the hum of conversation told her most of the guests had arrived. Her beauty routine had taken longer than usual, so she was about fifteen minutes late. The results, in her humble opinion, were well worth it.

  She’d picked the knit dress off the rack because the moss green exactly matched her eyes. Then she’d tried it on, thinking that the long sleeves, ankle-length skirt and high neck would make it a fairly conservative choice. Oh, no. The dress slithered over her body like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination.

  That alone would have made it sexy as hell, but the skirt was slit up one side to several inches above her knee. She hadn’t noticed that, either, when she’d decided to try it on. Looking at herself in the dressing-room mirror, she’d seen a different Molly Gallagher, a seductive woman capable of driving men out of their minds. This was the dress’s first outing, and after her wild night and stolen afternoon session with Ben, she felt qualified to wear it.

  She’d bought teardrop earrings with stones the same color as the dress. She wore no other jewelry. The dress spoke for itself. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she had left a few tendrils dangling in front of her ears.

  “Molly?”

  She was halfway down the stairs when Ben called her name. She turned and looked over her shoulder. “Hi,” she said. “You look nice.” That was an understatement. He wore a crisp white Western shirt with silver piping that made his shoulders seem wider than ever, and his black dress jeans were sinfully snug.

  His black leather belt was intricately tooled, and she wondered if he’d made it. He wore no hat tonight, and his thick hair gleamed in the light from the hallway. The scent of shampoo and shaving lotion drifted down the staircase. She had an almost irresistible urge to climb back up and kiss his smooth jaw. But judging from the heat in his brown eyes, she didn’t dare.

  “You look…” He swallowed. “I don’t even know how to describe how you look, Molly. That dress really… it fits you like… I’ve never seen a dress look as good on anybody as that one does on you.”

  “Thank you.” It was exactly the response she’d hoped for. She’d never felt more beautiful or desirable in her life.

  “Hang on a minute. I’ll walk down with you.” He started toward her.

  “Got your harmonica?”

  He patted his breast pocket. “Right here. Watkins and Trey are good. I’ll have to bring my A game tonight.”

  “From what I heard before, you’ll be fine.” She smiled at him.

  He paused and caught his breath. “Damn, Molly. You’re so…damn.”

  “What?” She pretended not to know what he meant. But she knew, and exulted in a sexual power she’d never claimed before.

  “That dress. It moves when you move. It slides right over your breasts and your sweet little bottom. I don’t — hell, I know it’s unworthy of me, but I don’t want other men to see how great you look.”

  “Too late.” Jack stood at the bottom of the stairs with Josie. “Put your eyes back in your damned head, Radcliffe.” He held out his hand. “Come on, Cousin Molly. Let’s go join the party. You look terrific, by the way.”

  “Thank you.” She walked down the stairs, took his hand and allowed him to steady her for the last few steps.

  “That dress is dynamite,” Josie said.

  “Yours isn’t too shabby, either.” Molly admired the ice-blue, long-sleeved sheath that Josie had accented with silver shoes and jewelry. Instead of her usual braid, she’d created an up-do that showed off her slender neck. She was a knockout.

  Jack gave Josie a possessive once-over. “Not shabby at all,” he said softly. “I’m a lucky man.”

  He crooked both arms. “Ladies, make me the envy of every poor slob in the room.”

  “I’m honored, Jack.” Molly looked into eyes that glowed with the pride of his Shoshone ancestors. She might as well make her stand now as later. She knew instinctively that he’d respect her for being direct. “But I’m going to wait for Ben.”

  Jack’s glance flicked from Molly to Ben, who’d remained standing midway down the staircase. “All right.” He held Ben’s gaze. “Don’t forget our conversation.”

  Ben’s voice was steady. “I won’t.”

  Jack and Josie walked into the living room and Molly took a shaky breath. Round One. She thought maybe she’d won it, but time would tell.

  “Thank you.” Ben descended the last few steps and stood before her. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I did.” She looked into his eyes. “I’m capable of choosing my own… friends. Jack needs to understand that.”

  A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “I’m glad you consider me a friend.”

  “I do.” She longed to touch him. But while they were within sight of the front door where anyone could come in and discover them, being affectionate might not be the best plan. “You may not realize it, but you’ve given me enormous confidence.”

  “You?” He looked surprised. “You were already confident. You didn’t need me for that.”

  “Ah, but you’re wrong.” She lowered her voice. “When you asked me to pirouette for you at the top of the stairs twenty-four hours ago, I wasn’t completely convinced of my sexual power. Thanks to you, now I am.” She stretched out her arms. “Behold the result.”

  He laughed, his eyes sparkling. “So as I struggle to make it through this evening of torture, watching you move through the crowd in that incredible dress, I have only myself to blame?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “In a twisted kind of way, that helps. Shall we go in?”

  “Yes.” She linked her arm through his. “I can hardly wait to hear you play.”

  “Then know this. Every note will be for you.”

  His words ran in a continuous loop in her mind as they walked into the crowded living room. They were the kind of words that could turn a girl’s head. If Ben were a different sort of man, she’d think he’d used them as a seductive line.

  But he didn’t need to spout pretty words to get a woman into bed. He’d already accomplished that with her. She’d spent enough time with him, especially quality time in which emotional barriers had come down, to know that he didn’t say anything he didn’t mean.

  He’d announced from the beginning that he was the wrong man for her, long-term. She still didn’t know all the particulars, but he hadn’t tried to fool her by implying that they could have more than a brief fling. He’d been honest about that from the beginning.

  Jack might not completely trust him, but she did. She really should corner Jack and discuss his dealings with Ben. Jack hadn’t turned in his genealogy homework yet, and that would give her a good excuse to talk with him.

  For right now, though, she was a party girl on the arm of a handsome man as they walked into a kaleidoscope of color and movement. As Molly deposited her wrapped package on the gift table, Ben went to get them both drinks. Before he made it to the temporary bar set up along the far wall, Watkins grabbed him and pulled him into the corner where Trey was setting up their sound system.

  Molly hadn’t thought about the fact that Ben would be needed over there. She’d never attended a function with someone who was part of the evening’s entertainment. Making her way over, she tapped him on the shoulder.

  He turned. “Oh, sorry. I’ll get our drinks in a second. First I need to—”

  “Never mind. You have things to do. Can I bring you something?”

  He grinned. “One of those dark beers would be outstanding.”

  “Got it.” She wove through the crowd, greeting those she’d already met, like Pam Mulholland, Nick’s aunt and one of Sarah’s best friends. Last Christmas Pam had married Emmett Sterling, the tall, sixty-something ranch foreman standing between her and his daughter Emily. Emily was in line to be foreman after Emmett retired.

  Emily’s husband, Clay Whitaker, director of the stud program at the ranch, arrived loaded down with two bottles of beer and two glasses of wine. “Hey, Molly. Can I get you something from the bar?”

  “Thanks, but I promised Ben I’d fetch his drink, so I need to go there, anyway. By the way, who’s the couple standing by the Christmas tree talking to Jack?”

  “They’re good friends of Jack’s,” Clay said. “Nash and Bethany own the ranch that borders this one.”

  “And Bethany writes self-help books,” Pam added.

  “Right! I remember Aunt Sarah mentioning that.”

  “Except for the ranch hands, they might be the only ones who aren’t somehow part of the extended family,” Pam said. “But apparently Nash and Jack were inseparable in high school, so I think Sarah thinks of him as another son.”

  Molly glanced around at the crowd gathered in the living room. “Such a happy group.”

  “I know.” Pam smiled. “It’s a real tribute to Sarah that everyone’s so eager to help her celebrate her big birthday.”

  “Yes, it is. I’m so glad I made the trip. Anyway, I did promise Ben that drink, so I’d better get going. I’ll catch you all later!”

  But she got sidetracked briefly when she stopped to talk to Regan O’Connelli and his fiancée, Lily King. Regan shared a veterinarian practice with Nick, and he was also Morgan and Tyler’s brother. Lily ran an equine rescue operation on the outskirts of Shoshone.

  Eventually Molly reached the bar. It was so tempting to stop and talk to people. Tonight was a genealogist’s dream. She was finally able to put faces to some of the names on her chart.

  A guy with a buzz cut was tending bar. She’d never seen him before, so she held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Molly, a cousin from Arizona.”

  He smiled and shook her hand. “I’m Steve, a bartender from Spirits and Spurs. I’m absolutely no relation to anybody here, which Josie thought would be a good thing so I can concentrate on the job at hand. What can I get for you?”

  She asked for a glass of the red wine Sarah had introduced her to and a bottle of dark beer. Then she returned to the makeshift bandstand and handed the bottle to Ben.

  “Thanks.” He glanced toward the hallway that led to Pete and Sarah’s bedroom. “Pete just coaxed her back there on some pretext or other. I think this is it.”

  She noticed his breathing had changed and lines of tension bracketed his mouth. “Nervous?”

  “Hell, yes. What if she doesn’t like it?”

  “She’ll love it. Everyone else has.”

  “I know, but they’re not the ones I made it for.” He looked over at the front door. “They’re bringing it in.” His voice was strained.

  She’d never dreamed that he’d be so worried about whether Sarah would like the saddle. So far, everyone had raved about it, but he was right that Sarah’s reaction was the crucial one. If she gave the slightest indication that she didn’t love it, Ben would be cut to the quick.

  His anxiety became hers, and she longed to hold his hand, touch his arm, anything that would let him know she was there for him, but he wouldn’t appreciate that. She might know he was feeling vulnerable, but he wouldn’t want anyone else to figure it out. Outwardly he projected calm confidence in his ability to do his work.

  She’d never thought about the pressure on an artist when a creation was unveiled. Ben’s work was more than just a job, and she wondered how many of his customers understood that. Now that she’d seen this saddle, she longed to visit his shop and ask more questions about the process. That wouldn’t happen if they ended things when this interlude was over.

  Gabe and Nick carried the still-covered saddle into the middle of the room and moved back as conversation hummed all around them. Jack called down the hall to Pete before walking back to stand beside the saddle. Everyone’s attention shifted to the arrival of the birthday girl.

  Pete held Sarah’s hand as he ushered her into the living room. She’d chosen to wear winter white, a stunning dress that showcased her cherished turquoise jewelry. Her cheeks were pink with excitement.

  Molly held her breath along with everyone else in the room. She desperately wanted Sarah to love the saddle for Ben’s sake.

  Then little Sarah Bianca, her evergreen dress decorated with ruffles and a tiara balanced on her red curls, jumped up and down with cries of glee. “Do it, do it, Uncle Jack!” she shouted. “Show Grandma her surprise!”

  “Yeah, yeah!” Archie, her blond, three-year-old cousin, started jumping, too. “Do it, Daddy!”

  With a smile, Jack stepped forward. “Happy Birthday, Mom. From all of us.” He whipped off the blanket.

  Sarah stared at the saddle in complete astonishment. Then she began to cry.

  Ben sucked in a breath. “Is that good?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Molly’s eyes filled as she watched tears of joy flow down Sarah’s cheeks. “She loves it.”

  “But she’s crying.”

  Molly sniffed. “That’s because she’s happy, and touched and overwhelmed by the generosity of everyone. The saddle’s a hit, Ben. You did it.”