“Congratulations.” They hugged and Katie’s heart swelled. When she’d first learned she had two half-sisters, she’d been wary, not certain of her feelings, especially since Bliss had been pampered and preened—John Cawthorne’s “princess.” But, being ever pragmatic, Katie had decided to make the best of the situation and from the minute she’d pushed herself into Bliss’s life, insisting that both she and Tiffany be accepted, she hadn’t regretted it for a minute. Today was proof positive that a loving family—no matter how tattered and shredded and pulled apart—was the greatest gift in life.

* * *

Luke eyed the pile of dry earth that had been scraped away from the building site. Kicking at a dirt clod, he examined the dig and was satisfied with the progress. The excavation would be finished in two days; the setting of forms for the concrete foundation that would link the existing buildings was scheduled thereafter, and by the end of next week the framing crew would be at work. He wanted everything done immediately, of course, but knew better.

As he squared his hat on his head and walked to the stables, he reminded himself that patience was a virtue—one that had eluded him for most of his life. He reached through the slats of the fence and twisted on the faucet for the water trough. Clear water gushed through ancient pipes and spilled into the metal drum, splashing noisily. Several mares lifted their heads at the sound. A light bay with black ears nickered in his direction.

“Hello to you, too, Trudy,” he said and felt a sense of belonging, of finally having a place in the world he could call home.

It was just a damned shame that he’d be doing it alone. For the first time since his divorce from Celia, he experienced a need to be connected, to be a part of something bigger than just himself. It was an odd sensation, really—one he’d hoped he would avoid for the rest of his life and that, he suspected, had more than a little to do with Katie Kinkaid. That mite of a woman had bored herself under his skin and he found himself thinking about her far too much.

“So stop it,” he ordered. She was just a woman. Angry with himself, he twisted off the faucet, and saw that the stock seemed settled down. The foals cavorted, running and bucking and nipping at each other while their more sedate dams, ears flicking at each sound, tails forever switching at flies, grazed and generally ignored the antics of their spindly-legged offspring.

It was a peaceful existence right now, though an influx of guests, ranch hands, and house staff would change that sense of tranquility in the months to come. But then money was money, and somehow this place had to support itself.