CHAPTER ONE
“H ELLO , N ANCEE .”
Nancee Smith shrieked, jumped and spun toward the unexpected voice. For a second all she saw was the sheer size of the intruder. The icing spatula she waved seemed woefully inadequate as a weapon. Then she blinked and focused, only to realize she wasn’t in any danger—at least not physically. Emotionally was a whole other story.
“Shep?”
Her throat tightened as she spoke the man’s name. Jesse Sheppard—known as Shep to his friends—had blown in and out of her life for the past ten years. They had more than a past. They were practically a Lifetime movie franchise.
She pressed a hand to her chest—as if that would help her breathing slow. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Here as in Fool’s Gold or here as in your great-aunt’s kitchen?”
Good question. “How about both?”
His gaze settled on the spatula. “You planning to run me through with that?”
“It’s not sharp enough to do any damage.” Not that she wanted to physically hurt him. Not exactly. She set the icing tool on the counter and waited for him to explain his presence. Which shouldn’t take long. Shep had never been much of a talker.
They’d met her first summer in college. She’d taken a part-time job with the forestry department. Mostly manning the welcome center, where she warned visitors not to feed the bears or light fires outside designated camping areas. Shep had been one of the permanent rangers, and he’d had her from the second their eyes had met.
She supposed every woman had one of those kind of men in their lives, and if they didn’t, they should. She’d tried to play it cool, but there was no way she could resist his broad shoulders or green eyes. He’d been tall, muscled and mostly silent, but when he’d smiled...well, her heart had filled in what he hadn’t said.
They’d spent the summer together. When she’d had to go back to college in September, he’d promised to stay in touch. Only he hadn’t. He’d moved on, and she’d thought she had lost him forever.
Three years later, he’d shown up in her life, only to leave again. Two years after that, he’d done it for the last time. She’d sworn she was over him. Over as in done. With a capital D . Finito.
Yet here he was, in her great-aunt’s kitchen.
She leaned against the counter, determined to let him speak first. No more filling in the silences for him. No more assuming his quiet “I love you” meant anything other than, Hey, let’s make wild, passionate love for a few weeks and then I’m leaving you.
“I work for Fool’s Gold search and rescue, and I teach a couple of night classes at the community college. Biology.”
She felt her mouth drop open. Teach as in teach? “You finished your degree?”
He nodded.
“And got a master’s?”
Another nod.
“In biology?”
One shoulder rose, which she took to mean yes. The man really should learn American Sign Language. Then he could communicate fully without speaking a word. But more pressing, how could she not know these things about him? Shep had been such a significant part of her world for so long, yet she hadn’t known he’d finished college?
“I thought you just did the forest ranger thing.”
“That, too.”
The timer dinged, and she pulled a tray of cupcakes out of her great-aunt’s commercial-size oven, then stuck in the next batch. She turned back to Shep.
“How did you get to Fool’s Gold?”
“By truck.”
She refused to smile. Instead she kept her gaze on his face and waited.
“I interviewed for the job and was hired.”
Which made sense but didn’t answer any of her questions. Why here? Why now? For a brief second she wondered if he’d taken the job because of all the times she’d talked about the town when they were together. But that was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if she’d had any influence on him. His chronic leaving was proof of that.
“Why are you in my aunt’s kitchen?”
One corner of his mouth
“H ELLO , N ANCEE .”
Nancee Smith shrieked, jumped and spun toward the unexpected voice. For a second all she saw was the sheer size of the intruder. The icing spatula she waved seemed woefully inadequate as a weapon. Then she blinked and focused, only to realize she wasn’t in any danger—at least not physically. Emotionally was a whole other story.
“Shep?”
Her throat tightened as she spoke the man’s name. Jesse Sheppard—known as Shep to his friends—had blown in and out of her life for the past ten years. They had more than a past. They were practically a Lifetime movie franchise.
She pressed a hand to her chest—as if that would help her breathing slow. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Here as in Fool’s Gold or here as in your great-aunt’s kitchen?”
Good question. “How about both?”
His gaze settled on the spatula. “You planning to run me through with that?”
“It’s not sharp enough to do any damage.” Not that she wanted to physically hurt him. Not exactly. She set the icing tool on the counter and waited for him to explain his presence. Which shouldn’t take long. Shep had never been much of a talker.
They’d met her first summer in college. She’d taken a part-time job with the forestry department. Mostly manning the welcome center, where she warned visitors not to feed the bears or light fires outside designated camping areas. Shep had been one of the permanent rangers, and he’d had her from the second their eyes had met.
She supposed every woman had one of those kind of men in their lives, and if they didn’t, they should. She’d tried to play it cool, but there was no way she could resist his broad shoulders or green eyes. He’d been tall, muscled and mostly silent, but when he’d smiled...well, her heart had filled in what he hadn’t said.
They’d spent the summer together. When she’d had to go back to college in September, he’d promised to stay in touch. Only he hadn’t. He’d moved on, and she’d thought she had lost him forever.
Three years later, he’d shown up in her life, only to leave again. Two years after that, he’d done it for the last time. She’d sworn she was over him. Over as in done. With a capital D . Finito.
Yet here he was, in her great-aunt’s kitchen.
She leaned against the counter, determined to let him speak first. No more filling in the silences for him. No more assuming his quiet “I love you” meant anything other than, Hey, let’s make wild, passionate love for a few weeks and then I’m leaving you.
“I work for Fool’s Gold search and rescue, and I teach a couple of night classes at the community college. Biology.”
She felt her mouth drop open. Teach as in teach? “You finished your degree?”
He nodded.
“And got a master’s?”
Another nod.
“In biology?”
One shoulder rose, which she took to mean yes. The man really should learn American Sign Language. Then he could communicate fully without speaking a word. But more pressing, how could she not know these things about him? Shep had been such a significant part of her world for so long, yet she hadn’t known he’d finished college?
“I thought you just did the forest ranger thing.”
“That, too.”
The timer dinged, and she pulled a tray of cupcakes out of her great-aunt’s commercial-size oven, then stuck in the next batch. She turned back to Shep.
“How did you get to Fool’s Gold?”
“By truck.”
She refused to smile. Instead she kept her gaze on his face and waited.
“I interviewed for the job and was hired.”
Which made sense but didn’t answer any of her questions. Why here? Why now? For a brief second she wondered if he’d taken the job because of all the times she’d talked about the town when they were together. But that was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if she’d had any influence on him. His chronic leaving was proof of that.
“Why are you in my aunt’s kitchen?”
One corner of his mouth
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