She pulled up on the reins and caught her breath as the mare slowed to a walk at the paddock near the stables. Dirty but exhilarated, Bliss climbed down from the saddle and walked Fire Cracker into the darkened interior.

She spent the next forty-five minutes cooling the horse down, then brushing her sleek hide before offering a measure of oats and bucket of water. “You know,” she admitted, scratching the mare between her ears and avoiding being swatted by the sorrel’s tail, “I’m going to miss you, too.”

She’d considered moving down here. Lord knew, her father was doing his best to promote it. Now that he’d moved back to the ranch and was feeling better, he’d thought of every bribe imaginable to keep her in Bittersweet. Not only had he given her the horse, he’d promised her land, offered her a job, suggested her sisters needed her; but she’d been undeterred. Her job, her friends, her entire life was in Seattle.

But Mason was here. Her soul darkened a bit. She loved him. More than she ever had. And that was a problem. Once before, she’d been involved with him and the love affair had been one-sided; now, since they were older, the only difference was that they were physically intimate. Just because they’d made love was no reason to think that they had a future together.

He had his corporations, his ranches, his own life and a daughter.

“Oh, stop it,” she told herself as she finally let Fire Cracker out of her stall. Bucking and snorting, the horse romped to the middle of the corral and immediately dropped to the ground where she rolled back and forth, her legs kicking wildly in the air, a cloud of dust billowing from beneath her. “Great. All that brushing for nothing.” Bliss chuckled as she walked toward the back door of the house.

Lights were already glowing from the windows as the sky darkened and night crept over the landscape. Oscar, lying on the front porch, let out a quiet “Woof ” and thumped his tail, but Bliss barely heard him. Through the screen door she heard the sound of voices. Loud voices.

“Look, Lafferty, I don’t like the game you’re playin’ with Bliss.” John Cawthorne’s voice brooked no argument.

Bliss stopped dead in her tracks. Mason was here?

“I’m not playing any games.” Mason’s voice, clear, calm and cold.

“She’s falling for you again. Just like before.”

“This time it’s different, Cawthorne.”

Different? What was he talking about? Bliss’s heart was like a drum, pounding out a wild, erratic cadence.