The Pride Of Jared MacKade: the classic story from the queen of romance that you won’t be able to put down

“And it wouldn’t be any more trouble. We’ve got lots of room now. Cal’s going to want somebody to play with, to hang around with.”

“Thanks, MacKade.”

“My pleasure.”

“And anyway,” Bryan went on, because he’d come out of his own excitement long enough to see the way his mother was cuddling the orange kitten, “this way we could each pick one. That’s the fair way, right?”

Smiling, Bryan reached out to brush his finger over the orange kitten. “He likes you. See, he’s trying to lick your hand.”

“He’s hungry,” Savannah told him, but she knew there was no possible way she was going to be able to resist the little bundle rooting in her hand. “I suppose they would be company for each other.”

“All right, Mom!” Bryan sprang up, kissed her without any of the embarrassment many nine-year-old boys might feel. “I’m going to tell Shane which ones are ours.”

With a clatter of feet, Bryan dashed out of the barn.

“You know you wanted it,” Jared said.

“I’m old enough to know I can’t have everything I want.” But she sighed and set the kitten down so that it could join its siblings in a morning snack. “But two cats can’t be that much more trouble than one.”

She started to rise, flicking a glance upward when Jared put a hand under her arm and helped her up. “Thanks.” She stepped around him and headed for the light. “So, are you a farm boy moonlighting as a lawyer, or a lawyer moonlighting as a farm boy?”

“It feels like both these days. I spent the last few years living in Hagerstown.” He matched his pace to her long, lazy one. “When I moved back a couple of months ago, I had a lot of things to deal with in the city, so I haven’t been able to give Shane and Devin much of a hand.”

“Devin?” She paused outside, where the sun was strong and warming quickly. “Oh, the sheriff. Yes, Bryan’s mentioned him. He lives here, too.”

“He sleeps here now and again,” Jared said. “He lives in the sheriff’s office.”

“Fighting crime, in a town with two stoplights?”

“Devin takes things seriously.” He looked over to where Bryan was dancing around Shane as Shane herded the cows back to pasture. “Have you given any more thought to your father’s estate?”

“Estate. Now, that’s a very serious word. Yes, I’ve thought about it. I have to talk to Bryan.” At Jared’s cocked brow, she spoke quietly. “We’re a team, Mr. MacKade. He gets a vote in this. We have a Little League game this afternoon, and I don’t want to distract him from that. I’ll have an answer for you by Monday.”

“Fine.” Jared’s eyes shifted from hers again, narrowed. The warning glint in them had Savannah’s lips curving.

“Let me guess. Your brother’s looking at my butt again.”

Intrigued, Jared looked back at her. “You can tell?”

Her laugh was quick and rich. “Honey, women can always tell. Sometimes we let you get away with it, that’s all.” She cast a lightning grin over her shoulder, winked at Shane. “Come on, Bryan. You’ve got chores to finish up before the game.”

She walked back through the woods with Bryan, listening to him chatter endlessly about the kittens, the ball game, the animals at the MacKade farm.

He was happy, was all she could think. He was safe. She’d done a good job. On her own. She caught herself before she could sigh and alert her son to the troubles in her mind. It was often so hard to know what was right.

“Why don’t you run ahead, Bry? Get those chores done and change into your uniform. I think I’ll sit here awhile.”

He stopped, kicked at a pebble. “How come you sit here so much?”

“Because I like it here.”

He studied her face, looked for signs. “We’re really going to stay in this place?”

Her heart broke a little as she bent down and kissed him. “Yes, we’re really going to stay.”

His grin was quick and bright. “Cool.”

He raced off, leaving her standing alone in the path. She sat on a fallen log, closed her eyes and emptied her mind.

So much tried to intrude—memories, mistakes, doubts. She willed them away, concentrating on the quiet and that place in her own head that was safe from worry.

It was a trick she’d learned as a child, when the confusion of life had been too overwhelming to face. There had been long rides in a rattling pickup, endless hours in smelly paddocks, loud voices, the gnaw of real hunger, the cries of fretful babies, the chill of under-heated rooms. They could all be faced, again and again, if she could just escape into herself for a few minutes.

Decisions became clearer, confidence could be rebuilt.

As fascinated as if he’d come across some mythical creature in the woods, Jared watched her. That exotic face was utterly peaceful, her body utterly still. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see a butterfly or a bright bird land on her shoulder.

These woods had always been his. His personal place. His intimate place. Yet seeing her here didn’t feel like an intrusion. It seemed expected, as if in some part of his mind he’d known he’d find her here if he just knew when to look.

He realized he was afraid to blink, as if in that fraction of a second she might vanish, never to be found again.

She opened her eyes slowly and looked directly into his.

For a moment, neither of them could speak. Savannah felt the breath rush into her throat and stick there. She was used to men staring at her. They had done so even when she was a child. It annoyed, amused or interested her by turns. But it had never left her speechless, as this one long, unblinking stare out of eyes the color of summer grass did.

He moved first, stepping closer. And the world started again.

“I hate stating the obvious.” Because he wanted to—and because his knees were just a little weak—he sat on the log beside her. “But you are staggering.”

Steadier now, she inclined her head. “Aren’t you supposed to be plowing a field or something?”

“Shane’s gotten proprietary about his tractor over the years. Aren’t you supposed to be going to a ball game?”

“It’s not for a couple hours.” Savannah took a deep breath, relieved that it went smoothly in and out. “So, who’s trespassing, you or me?”

“Technically, both of us.” Jared took out a slim cigar and found a match. “This is my brother’s property.”

“I assumed the farm belonged to all of you.”

“It does.” He took a drag, watched the smoke drift into the sunlight. “This strip here is Rafe’s land.”

“Rafe?” Her brows shot up. “Don’t tell me there are more of you.”

“Four altogether.” He tried to smother his surprise when she plucked the cigar out of his fingers and helped herself to a casual drag.

“Four MacKades,” she mused. “It’s a wonder the town survived. And none of the women managed to rope you in?”

“Rafe’s married. I was.”