“Fine,” she said, opening the creaking screen door and stepping aside. “Come in. I’ve got something for you.” She walked to her small desk where she noticed a few past-due notices in the stack of bills she’d been ignoring. She picked up a large envelope from her attorney. “This is what I’d been working on,” she said. “Preliminary.” She handed him the envelope, and he glanced at the return address. “Still some details to hammer out, and since you’re here . . .” She shrugged, trying to summon her outrage, her need to sever all ties with him, her desperate desire to let him know that she wasn’t going to let an ill-fated marriage ruin the rest of her life. But she couldn’t. All of her hot emotions had run cold with the loss of Cammie.

“Already got a copy in the truck.” He tossed the envelope onto her coffee table. “This isn’t a good time.”

He was right about that. “Just so you know where I stand.”

“Oh, I’ve got it.” His face had gone hard. “But right now, we’ve got bigger fish to fry, don’t ya think?”

She nodded. “Okay. Sure. Truce, for now.” She waved him into a chair. “I just wanted to make things clear.”

“Crystal.”

“Good.” Walking into her small galley kitchen, she called over her shoulder, “I’ve got tea or coffee or a soda.” She opened the refrigerator door, then peered over it as she looked into the living room where he was bending over and scratching Bo behind the ears. Her heart tugged a bit at the familiar sight. How many times had she seen him in just that position on the porch of the big old rambling house at the ranch? With the setting sun throwing him into dark relief, Slade had leaned over and petted the hound before kicking off his dusty boots and padding into the kitchen hundreds of times.

Once inside, he’d always taken the time to kiss her. He’d either quickly buss her cheek or, more often than not, sweep her into his arms and press hot, hungry lips to hers. “I think we have time for a quick one,” he’d whisper against her ear, only half joking. The scent of hay, horses, and dust had clung to him, and in that first year of their marriage, she’d usually take him up on his offer. “A quick one what?” she’d teased. And then, laughing, would find herself lifted from her feet and carried into the bedroom, where he’d made love to her, and not in a hurry.