She glanced away. “I just wanted to thank you again.” And to find out what happened to Dave Sorenson. And now she knew—the sad truth. Her heart began to ache again and she knew she should leave this ranch. There were too many ghosts from her past still wandering through the old house. And of course, there was the other problem that came in the form of a rangy Texan who played havoc with her mind—whether she wanted him to or not. “I’d better be off. Josh has probably driven his grandma crazy by now.”

“How is he—your boy?”

“Better, I think,” she said with a grin. “He’s getting a little cranky and my mom always said that a bad mood is a sure sign that the patient is getting better.”

“Your mother sounds like a wise woman.”

She thought of Brynnie and all her husbands. “Some people might disagree on that one. She seems to get married at the drop of a hat.”

“But you don’t.”

“Me?” she said, startled. “Well, no. I, uh, tend to think marriage is more of a commitment than Mom does.”

“Is that why you didn’t marry Josh’s dad?”

She felt a needle of warning, the way she always did when the subject of Josh’s paternity came up. “I told you we were just kids.”

“Even so, most men want to do what’s right.”

“Most boys don’t,” she replied automatically, then felt a twinge of guilt. “It was complicated.”

“Does he see Josh often?” Luke asked, and Katie’s heart hitched painfully.

“No.” She considered telling Luke the truth; after all, he’d known Dave, but what good would come of it? First she had to talk to Josh, then the Sorensons. And then, her family.

Luke, as if sensing the subject was too tender to discuss, asked, “Can’t you stick around a few more minutes? Since you’re already here, I thought you might want to see the rest of the place.”

“I would. Very much,” she admitted boldly as the offer, softly seductive, hung in the air between them. It was true. Katie was tempted; she’d enjoy nothing better than to get to know Luke Gates with his slow, sexy drawl, bedroom eyes and past that had yet to be unraveled. She thought of their one shared moment of passion, that unguarded instant in time when she’d felt his lips on hers, tasted the salt on his skin, experienced his flesh pressing hot against her own. “But I’d better take a rain check.” Her gaze held his and she saw in his blue eyes a flicker of something darkly dangerous and ultimately erotic.

“I’ll hold ya to it,” he said, and her insides turned to jelly. He was too close, too unclothed, and too damned male. But she couldn’t just let sleeping dogs lie.