Homeward Bound

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Royce rubbed his brow, trying to ease the throb that had plagued him for the past hour. “As soon as the fire inspector gives the okay, I’ll make arrangements to have the wreckage hauled off to the dump.” The trailer fire was the first real catastrophe Royce had had to deal with since being elected the town mayor of Nowhere two years ago.

Luke shoved a wad of chew between his lip and gum. “You gonna call her tonight?”

“No.” The her was Heather Henderson. Daughter of the man who’d perished in the fire. Melvin Henderson had never been considered one of Nowhere’s exemplary citizens. Royce had had his share of run-ins with the man over the years—not one of them pleasant.

He wondered how Heather would take the news of her father’s death. On a scale of one to ten, Henderson had a negative number in the fatherhood department. Heather’s mother had split years ago, leaving her thirteen-year-old daughter at the mercy of a drunk, mean ol’ son of a bitch. In the end, Heather had had no one to care about her.

Except for you.

Royce had been nineteen when he’d stumbled upon the teen bawling her eyes out on the loading dock at the back of her father’s feed store. The lost look on her face when she’d sobbed that her mother had run away and left her behind had shaken Royce more than he’d cared to admit at the time.

That afternoon he’d sympathized with Heather’s grief as if it had been his own. He’d known all too well the feeling of being abandoned. Both his parents had died in a boating accident when he was a young boy. His childless aunt and uncle had taken him in but had treated him no better than one of the cow dogs. They’d given him shelter. Food. A place to sleep. And in return, he’d worked his butt off, learning how to raise cattle and work around a ranch—not an easy task for a boy who’d lived in Southern California near the ocean for his whole life.

He may not have had a storybook childhood full of warm fuzzies, but he’d had a home—which was more than some people got. His aunt and uncle had left him the ranch in their wills, and for that, Royce had forgiven them for not being the loving parents he’d wanted.

Twelve years ago, after witnessing the anguish in Heather’s eyes, something inside Royce had reached out to the young girl. He’d sworn he’d do everything in his power to make sure she believed at least one person cared—Royce McKinnon. But the friendship he’d envisioned between them had never materialized. Heather had turned into a hellion and had rebuffed his offers of help and guidance.

Keeping her in line became a full-time job. Many days he’d considered washing his hands of her, but something had compelled him not to give up on the teen. He didn’t need to pay a psychologist a hundred bucks a half hour to inform him that he’d turned the need to be cared for into a need to care for others. He glanced at Luke. “I’ll drive down to College Station tomorrow.” Maybe after the five-hour drive south, he’d figure out how to break the news to Heather.

“Where is she livin’ these days?”

“I believe in a house near campus.” Heather had moved several times from one apartment or rental house to another since enrolling at the University of Texas A&M seven years ago. “I’ll check the return address on her Christmas card.” Royce had kept every one of Heather’s holiday cards in a shoe box on his bedroom closet shelf.

“Seem to recall her writin’ that she was workin’ at a day care.”

Day care? Why hadn’t Heather put that information in her card to him? Maybe because the last time you paid her a visit, you did more than jump all over her for changing majors again and not finishing college yet. He supposed changing majors more than once and holding down a job made graduating in four years next to impossible.

As if it had happened only yesterday, the last visit flashed before his eyes. Heather at twenty-two had looked nothing like the gangly adolescent he’d remembered riding herd over. He’d never forget the sight of her in those hip-hugging short shorts and the strappy little top that had molded her full breasts and had shouted to him and every redblooded male within two miles of the campus that she was a desirable woman. For the first time, his body had reacted to her in a not-so-brotherly way, exciting him and scaring the hell out of him all at once.

He might have handled himself better if his attraction to her had been one-sided, but he’d caught the breathy sound that had escaped Heather’s mouth when she’d opened the apartment door and discovered him on the stoop. He’d noticed the sparkle of awareness in the blue eyes that had roamed up and down his body.

After he’d entered her apartment, he couldn’t stop staring at her. From her blond head to her pink-painted toenails, she’d mesmerized him. Gone had been any trace of the troublemaker teen he’d remembered. Flustered by his attraction to her, he’d started an argument about her taking forever to graduate. Then she’d done the most amazing thing—she’d kissed him. Her kiss had knocked the fight right out of him. To this day he could still remember the feel of her soft lips feathering across his. After he’d gotten over his initial shock, he’d kissed her right back. Again. And again. At least he’d come to his senses before they’d ended up in the bedroom.

After he left the university that day, he’d been determined to persuade Heather to return to Nowhere and spend the summer with him at the ranch. A small part of him had been convinced that what he’d felt for her had been more than just lust. But fate had foiled his plans, destroying any chance of a future with her. He’d found out the hard way that life sometimes plays dirty tricks on people.

In the end, Heather hadn’t spent the summer in Nowhere, and he’d tried to forget about their one passionate encounter and move on with life. Throwing himself into ranch work had helped, but the exhausting physical labor hadn’t been enough to chase the college coed from his thoughts. So he’d run for mayor, hoping the added responsibility would keep him too busy to ponder what might have been. For the most part, his plan had worked.

Until now. The trailer fire was another one of life’s nasty little jokes. Ready or not, he’d have to face Heather and deliver the news of her father’s death in person.

“Sure you don’t want me to tell her?” A stream of tobacco juice shot out of the gap between Luke’s front teeth.

Royce’s chest tightened; he was so tempted to take the old man up on his offer. “Nope. After I speak with the fire inspector in the morning, I’ll hit the road.”

If there was any good to come out of Henderson’s death, it was that once the man’s estate was settled, his daughter would have no reason to return to Nowhere.

And Heather Henderson would finally be out of his life for good.

Chapter One

“Duck…duck…duck…Bobby, that’s cheating. Sit on your bottom.”

Heather pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at the disgruntled five-year-old’s freckled face. As soon as he wiggled his rump back down on the campus day-care’s blue-carpeted floor, she patted the next head.

“Duck…duck…” Her hand hovered over a bright pink bow on top of a mountain of blond curls. If she “goosed” Rebecca, freckle-face would throw a temper tantrum, and carrot-top, on the other side of Rebecca, would most likely stick his hand out and trip the little girl.

Tapping the bow, Heather moved on. “Duck…duck…goose!”

A quick pat on Tommy’s head and Heather was off as fast as her knees would move. The kids loved her duck-duck-goose rule that adults play the game on their knees. She almost made it back to the empty spot, but Tommy’s fingers grazed her shoulder. She toppled over and tugged the boy to the floor.

“Dog pile!” Brian yelled, jumping through the air.

Heather clenched her stomach muscles right before Brian’s butt landed on her midsection. The hundred-per-day situps she struggled through every morning at the campus gym paid off tenfold in this job. The other five children joined in and she ended up buried beneath bodies that smelled like peanut butter and jelly, laundry detergent and Play-Doh.

She wiggled her fingers against a pair of legs covered in pink tights and smiled when little Sonja, normally quiet and withdrawn, belly-laughed along with the rest of the preschoolers. The sound of rambunctious laugher warmed Heather’s heart. She couldn’t remember ever laughing with such abandon and glee as a child.

“Excuse me, Heather.”

Peeking between the squirming bodies, Heather spotted her supervisor’s mud-colored Easy Spirit shoes inches from her nose. “Yes, Mrs. Richards?”

“There’s someone here to see you. Come along, children. Snack time.”

One by one, the munchkins popped off Heather and dashed across the room. Feeling as if she’d narrowly survived a school of hungry piranhas, she lay sprawled on the carpet, her clothes in disarray and her ponytail smashed to one side. She turned her head—and spotted a large pair of worn cowboy boots.

Uh-oh.

Inch by inch, her gaze strolled up denim-clad legs, slowed across solid thighs, then came to a complete stop at a well-endowed…One hip shifted, jarring her attention upward, past the shiny silver belt buckle. Past the six pearl snaps on the sky-blue western shirt. Past a whisker-stubbled chin. Straight to his eyes. Eyes that stirred up memories of—

“Heather.”

Sucking in a deep breath, she braved a smile.

Eyes dark as chunks of coal stared solemnly down at her from under the brim of a seen-better-days black Stetson.

So he was going to pretend they’d never shared glorious kisses three years ago. Okay, fine. She could pretend, too. “Hello, Royce.”

Her self-appointed guardian angel glowered. She imagined any sensible women would take one look at his expression, which hinted at a not-so-sunny disposition, and steer clear of the cowboy. Not Heather. She’d always admired his temperament, not to mention his strong stubborn jaw, deep-set brown eyes and equally dark slashing brows. Royce McKinnon was downright handsome in a rugged, manly-man sort of way.

His sober gaze fastened on her bare tummy, where a dainty silver butterfly ring pierced her navel. His stare, moving and mysterious, turned the simple act of breathing into a strenuous exercise. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she struggled for control. Three years ago this man had rocked her world. If her skittering nervousness at the moment was any indication, she hadn’t succeeded in putting the past—rather, this man—behind her.

With one last gulp of air, she shoved her T-shirt back in place and hopped to her feet. Desperate for a moment to corral her frazzled nerves, she brushed at an imaginary wrinkle in her jeans, then fixed her lopsided ponytail.

At six feet two inches—minus the cowboy hat—the mayor of Nowhere, Texas, didn’t exactly blend in with the gaggle of preschoolers running loose in the room. “If I’d known you were stopping in town I would have asked for time off.” Well, that was brilliant. He’ll think I’ve been pining for him all these years.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Some things never change.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I left a message on your cell phone.”