A Montana Cowboy by Rebecca Winters

themselves a house.”
    â€œYou don’t owe me an explanation, Trace. It doesn’t have anything to do with me. Logan and I were lucky to find work here for as long as we could.”
    â€œCassie—” he said in an urgent voice. “Please realize it won’t happen right away. I want you to stay on and earn your living until I find a buyer. Or maybe a renter. Probably within four to six weeks. Hopefully that will give you enough time to make other arrangements. I’m prepared to help you with that. So is your family.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œConnor told me that Mac and Millie want you to live with them until after your baby is born where you’ll be safe. That’s the reason he came over earlier, but I told him I’d rather tell you myself.”
    â€œI see.” She got to her feet and walked over to the water’s edge. “That’s all very kind of the family, but I’ll make my own arrangements.”
    She felt him behind her. “I told Connor that’s what you’d say because you’re much too independent.”
    â€œYou know me well. Do you mind if we go home now? It’s going to rain.” They’d heard thunder, so it wouldn’t be long.
    His hands slid to her shoulders. He pulled her back against his hard-muscled body. The unexpected action caused a small gasp to escape her lips. “I meant what I said about helping you. The Realtor I’m using can find you a place to live at the same time.”
    â€œI’m sure he could, but I’ll be fine.” Before she turned around and crumbled in his arms, Cassie eased away from him and walked back to the car. By the time he’d joined her, she’d put one of the bottles of water to her lips.
    â€œCassie—”
    â€œI want to thank you for being frank with me so I can handle this on my own. Four to six weeks gives me enough time to find work and a place to live that suits me. I knew this day had to come. It’s another wake-up call after being in a deep sleep. You and your father have been so kind and wonderful to me, I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
    Fat drops of water started to hit the windshield as they started down the mountain. Slow at first, they picked up speed until there was a downpour. By the time she and a tight-lipped Trace reached the ranch, she felt as if they’d been enclosed in their own secret world. She was unbearably aware of him. Something about the rain made everything more intimate. His chiseled profile haunted her.
    When he stopped the car, she jumped out, needing to get away from him. Once in the house she rushed to her bedroom and shut the door. Hoping to shrug off the feel of his hands on her shoulders, Cassie got undressed and took a shower.
    She washed her hair and pampered herself, but the imprint of his body against her back still stayed with her. When desire hit, there was no mistaking it for anything else. She desired Trace Rafferty. How long had he been at the ranch? Six days? Up at the lake he’d carved her initials in the log and she’d responded like a love-struck teenager instead of a twenty-seven-year-old pregnant woman.
    When she finally left her room in a clean pair of denims and a cotton sweater, the house was quiet. After looking out the living room window she discovered his Explorer was still there, but he wasn’t inside the house. With the storm activity, he was probably out at the barn to settle the horses. Thank heaven. She needed some breathing space.
    While he was gone, she fixed them each a sandwich and left a covered plate on the table for him. She took her sandwich back to her room. How long ago had Trace dropped his bomb on Sam? Had it happened while the two men had sat out on the front porch swing that first night?
    She was still trying to recover from the direct hit she’d taken after learning about his plans. Doc Rafferty would be sick over his son’s