She gave Sloan a motherly hug and offered her cheek for him to kiss—which he did with surprising willingness.

“Mercy, I heard about your heroics this afternoon from a score of people, Sloan McCord. The handsome cowboy coming to the rescue of two helpless ladies. Well done! I declare, you’re just like your brother Jake, setting the town on its ear before you’ve been here two minutes. Speaking of your scapegrace brother… how is Caitlin and my grandnephew-to-be?”

The chiseled planes of Sloan’s face seemed to soften at the mention of his sister-in-law. “She’s doing well, if you call being big and round as a pumpkin well. She swears the baby isn’t due for two more months, but she looks ready to drop any minute.”

“She’ll be fine, then. Ryan was a big baby, too.”

Heather felt herself flush at such plain speaking, but Winnie seemed to consider it natural.

The older lady went on blithely. “You don’t know how delighted I am about this match between you and Heather. We’ll be family twice over now. I suppose you two have been getting acquainted?”

At the ensuing silence, Winnie looked from one to the other, apparently catching the undercurrents between them. She cleared her throat. “I see Heather has offered you tea, Sloan. Would you care to sit down?”

Heather interrupted. “I believe Mr. McCord was just leaving.”

“Yes, I was,” he seconded.

A frown appeared between Winnie’s brows. “Is the wedding still set for tomorrow morning, then?”

Heather glanced hesitantly at Sloan, leaving the decision to him.

His jaw flexed for an instant, but then he forced a pained smile. “I suppose it is.”

Looking relieved, Winifred beamed. “Splendid! You just leave all the preparations to me.”

“I trust it’s nothing fancy, Winnie.”

“No, no. We’ll hold the ceremony here in the parlor, at ten o’clock. I’ve invited just a few friends, with a breakfast afterward. The train leaves tomorrow afternoon, I understand?”

“At one.”

“Do you have a place to stay, Sloan? You’re welcome here, of course, although it is bad luck for a groom to see his bride before the wedding.”

“I’m bunking not too far from the rail station. The Muleskinner Hotel.” He settled his Stetson on his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then,” he said, tipping his hat to Winifred yet scarcely glancing at his bride.

Heather politely accompanied him to the front door. She thought he might leave without a word, but he paused with his hand on the latch, looking down at her.

“I’ll be here tomorrow at eight sharp to collect your trunks and take them to the station.”

Her heart sank as she met his hard gaze. He was so cold… so businesslike. Far from the sensual man whose passionate kiss moments ago had set her head spinning and her body aching for some unnamed fulfillment.

“They will be ready.”