Don't let him know your knees feel like water. Don't let him see you're upset.
Manufacturing a smile, she tipped her head in the homestead's direction. "Dinner's almost done."
His boots swung off the table and the front legs of the chair smacked the wood. "Great. I'm starved."
With that smooth rolling stride, he moved into the tack room and emerged several minutes later. When he didn't acknowledge her but rather crossed to flick his hat off a peg, she cleared her throat quietly, just enough to be sure her voice wouldn't crack.
"There's rhubarb pie for dessert," she said. "Smells delicious."
He dusted off the brown felt then gifted her a tight smile. "Can't wait."
"In a couple of month's Beau'll be tasting solids. I wonder if he'll have a sweet tooth."
"You must leave me your address." He fitted his hat. "I'll let you know how it goes."
When he continued to stand several paces away, the chiseled planes of his face so impassive, her heart contracted and then slid to her feet.
She couldn't stand the tension a moment longer. They needed to talk, sort this out, whether he liked it or not.
"Jack, I'm confused. Have I done something wrong?"
His brows flew together. "Of course not."
"Then where have you been all day?"
He removed his hat, glared at its well while he shoveled a hand through his thick black hair. "I had things to do."
"What things?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"What wouldn't I understand?"
His hat dropped to his side as he heaved out a breath. "Do you really want to know? You're going back tomorrow." He threw a glance around the stable walls. "This'll all be a dusty memory in a month."
Maddy's breath double hitched in her chest.
What was going on? Why was he suddenly so cold? So hurtful? Because she was leaving? He'd always known that.
She moistened her dry lips and reminded him, "You invited me to come back."
"You can come back any time you like," he said blandly.
The room tilted. Had she dreamt last night? This Jack was like a different man.
"Can I get this straight? You're saying you're not bothered either way? Whether I come back or not?"
"It's up to you. You have your life. You know what you're doing with it." He glanced at his watch. "And we'd better have tea so you can pack and get back to it."
He headed for the stable door but his pace slowed when she didn't follow.
Her feet were lead blocks. Her insides were roped with heavy knots. She could barely stop the corners of her mouth from bowing. Where was the man she'd shared so much with last night?
Was she supposed to nod politely now and eat dinner at the table as if nothing had happened? As if he hadn't nuzzled and stroked every inch of her? As if he hadn't opened up each hidden part of her soul and invited himself into her heart?
Dammit, if he thought he could walk away from this that easily, he was wrong.
"I need you to answer me. Do you want me to come back?"
His eyes didn't meet hers as he growled over one broad shoulder, "Of course I'd like you to come back."
"Jack … look at me."
His broad back in the sexy chambray shirt expanded as he inhaled. He slowly turned. Rubbed his jaw. Met her eyes.
A muscle popped in his darkly shadowed square-cut jaw. "I'm not sure what you want."
She didn't give herself time to think. She walked straight over to cup his face. Then, bouncing up on her toes, she kissed him.
For an instant she felt that same fire, the spark-togas-leak explosion that had ripped through and released her again and again last night. She imagined she heard a rumble of satisfaction deep in his chest, felt the vibration rise in his throat and tingle with crystal clear meaning across her lips.
But as suddenly as it appeared, the scalding tension slid away and the kiss … his mouth on hers … lost its life.
The fire was gone. Snuffed out. Or had he simply locked it away behind a steel door? After the heartfelt promise he'd made-that whatever she was worried about, she didn't need to be-could he hurt her that way now?
Gutted, she let go of his jaw, found her feet and stepped back. But before she looked into his eyes, she willed all emotion from her face. She thought of scorpions and snakes. Of barren dusty miles she would soon say goodbye and good riddance to forever. The alternative was to break down and cry and …
She eased out a breath.
She'd rather be strong.
He'd said he didn't know what she wanted.
Shaking back her hair, she pasted on an unaffected smile and formed the necessary lie in her head.
"Oh, Jack," she began, "be fair. All I want is for you to know how much last night meant. Every girl dreams of having a real cowboy." She raised a playful grin. "And you're as real as they get." When tears stung like acid behind her eyes, she smiled harder and rubbed her nose. "I'm going to have to get out of here before I have a sneezing fit."
She brushed past before the tears caught up and beat her down. Damned if she'd let him see her cry. "Maddy, wait."
Spinning around, she theatrically pinched her nose. "I sincerely hope you're not going to ask me to help clean out that stall or brush down Herc."
They shared a gaze for a torturous moment and just when the emotion seemed about to break free-just when she thought she would crumple and tell him the truth-his shoulders came down.
"No, I wouldn't ask you to do that." He sauntered toward the stall. "Tell Cait to set my place. I'll be along soon."
Returning to the house, Maddy kept her pace steady. Don't think about what just happened. Don't give in to the tears. But she couldn't keep her mind blank or the sense of devastation from creeping higher, tighter. She simply couldn't believe it. It was as if all her life she'd known every shade of blue and today she'd discovered she was color-blind. How had she gotten it so wrong? She'd been slow to come around, but last night … last night she'd trusted him. Truly believed there was so much more to Jack Prescott than arrogance and irresistible blistering charm.
But it seemed he'd meant what he said literally.
One night. Just one night.
That his conscience bit a little-that he couldn't quite meet her eyes-didn't mean his dismissive treatment of her hurt any less. With her blinders off, she shouldn't be surprised.
He'd kissed her in the moonlight when he'd been involved with Tara. No doubt there'd been women before his attractive neighbor. Who would come after her? She still believed he'd loved his wife but, clearly, now he was a rich, handsome bachelor, doing what rich, handsome bachelors did best.
Entertaining himself. Filling in time.
Inside the house, Maddy dragged herself to the nursery. When she pushed the partly-opened door the rest of the way, her blood froze in her veins. She'd walked into her worst nightmare.
Beau was awake, cooing in his crib. Nell was up on her hind legs, her black-and-white back hunched and front paws on the lower rail. Her long nose was thrust through the rungs.
Beau squealed and, horror-daze broken, Maddy rushed forward, all those faded memories from half a lifetime ago suddenly pulsing and hideously real. Discovered, Nell dropped and, tail between her legs, trotted off to the far corner before Maddy could rip her away.
"Get out of here," she growled through bared teeth.
Her heart was smashing through her ribs, her fingers tingled, her hands, her arms … they were losing their strength. As she glared at the dog, ready to physically throw her out of the room, Maddy tried to catch her breath. She clung to the crib before her legs could give way. And still the collie stalked her with those deadly dark eyes.
Maddy hissed, "What are you staring at?"
Like a prowling wolf, Nell inched forward and, remembering those scars, Maddy exploded. "Get out! Get out!"
The baby wailed. Cait rushed in, Jack a heartbeat behind. The housekeeper threw a frantic look around while Jack strode to the center of the room, his fists clenched and gaze killer fierce.
"What the hell's going on?"
Maddy flapped her hand at Nell. "That-that dog shouldn't be in here alone with the baby. Her teeth were an inch from his arm. Dogs are unpredictable, Jack." Sometimes they were savage.
While Maddy scooped Beau from the crib and held him close, Cait's flushed face calmed and she came slowly forward.